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I even began taking the cash, mainly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of typical sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little women do.
I had not been a little girl in a long period of time though.
I just worked three or four nights a week anyhow, considering that I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he might really charge more, specifically if the person I was going with chosen me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it. I was constantly scared somebody would see me entering into a unusual car, a different weird car each time, and question what was going on.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was outrageous, but you 'd be stunned how lots of people wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to fuck and suck . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. But that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to in fact like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a female, simply 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 things anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 knew it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a guy who loved me wouldn't injure me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me actually was my father. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and developed and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it.
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