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I even started taking the cash, primarily because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little women do.
I had not been a little woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing due to the fact that he might actually charge more, specifically if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months currently, and I 'd lost track of how many people I 'd had sex with. I didn't need to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Method 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 2. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was absurd, but you 'd be surprised how many people wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage slut to fuck and suck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my representative, my security person, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to actually like these people for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men spending for me desired a lady, just a girl, and understanding that I really was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The guys loved me for a little bit, although some of them liked 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely since I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that method. Like a person who enjoyed me would not hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and picture the guy who was making love to me truly was my dad. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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