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I even began taking the money, mostly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of common sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do. I had not been a little woman in a long time. I just worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyhow, given that I had to be house by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he could in fact charge more, specifically if the guy I was opting for chosen me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it. I was constantly scared somebody would see me entering into a odd vehicle, a different odd cars and truck each time, and wonder what was going on.

I 'd been doing it for practically two months already, and I 'd lost track of how many guys I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Way excessive for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Selecting me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, however you 'd marvel the number of people desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the pointers that actually flushed my bank account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to in fact like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it.

The guys liked me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 lonely due to the fact that I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a person who enjoyed me wouldn't injure me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, many 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 lady next door maybe.

I could close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me actually was my dad. I could talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and full-grown and loved. And someplace, somehow along that trip, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go house and see my real daddy and nearly forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more before. But I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it. It was programmed into me, maturing not as his child but as his other half. We 'd done whatever however consummate our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?

 

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