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I even began taking the money, mainly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt 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 ridiculous things that little girls do.
I had not been a little lady in a very long time though.
I just worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyhow, considering that I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing because he might really charge more, particularly if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it. I was constantly scared somebody would see me entering a weird vehicle, a different odd automobile each time, and question what was going on.
Way 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 ridiculous, however you 'd be stunned how numerous men desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage slut to fuck and draw . These were all older guys too, like my daddy's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the tips that really flushed my savings account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous since he was my supervisor, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk 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 since I had to actually like these men for an hour or two. I had to act younger often too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it.
The males loved me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for genuine and asked me if I 'd marry 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 because I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who loved me wouldn't hurt me, you know? 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 desired to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and picture the guy who was making love to me truly was my papa. I could talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it.
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