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I even began taking the money, mostly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the method of typical sense. I would have been simply 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 very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing because he could really charge more, specifically if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly two months already, and I 'd misplaced the number of men I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd be surprised the number of guys wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor slut to fuck and suck . These were all older people too, like my papa's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the things I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to really like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it.
The men loved me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for real 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 since I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that method. Like a guy who enjoyed me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me actually was my papa. I might talk with him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and full-grown and loved. And someplace, somehow along that ride, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go house and see my real father and almost forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 before. However I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not assist it. It was set into me, maturing not as his daughter but as his partner. We 'd done whatever but skilled our relationship, I believed, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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