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I even began taking the money, mostly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do. I hadn't been a little lady in a long time. I just worked three or four nights a week anyway, considering that I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing since he could in fact charge more, specifically if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That privilege ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it. I was constantly afraid someone would see me entering a odd car, a different weird cars and truck each time, and question what was going on.

Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was outrageous, but you 'd be surprised how many men desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage whore to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous since he was my supervisor, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the things I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. But that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to really like these men for an hour or more. I needed to act younger often too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a lady, just a girl, and understanding that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it. I had a talent for the sex things anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.

The males loved me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for genuine and asked me if I 'd wed 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 because I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who loved me would not injure me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly.

I could close my eyes and envision the guy who was making love to me truly was my dad. I might talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel developed and special and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it.

 

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