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I even began taking the cash, primarily due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the method of common sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time.
I just worked three or four nights a week anyhow, since I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he might in fact charge more, particularly if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it. I was always afraid someone would see me getting into a strange car, a various weird cars and truck each time, and question what was going on.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was ludicrous, but you 'd be shocked how many guys desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage slut to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my representative, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the things I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. However that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to in fact like these men for an hour or two. I needed to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men spending for me desired a woman, just a lady, and knowing that I truly was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least come back to their cities and live with them. They were in love with who I pretended to be for that brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome due to the fact that I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that method. Like a person who liked me would not hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me truly was my father. I might talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel developed and special and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it.
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