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I even began taking the cash, primarily due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret 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 silly things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing since he could really charge more, especially if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of how many people I 'd had sex with. I didn't wish to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money 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. Picking me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, however you 'd be surprised how many guys desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor slut to fuck and suck . These were all older men too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the things I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to actually like these guys for an hour or more. I needed to act younger often too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a woman, simply a woman, and understanding that I really was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it. I had a talent for the sex things anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The guys enjoyed 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 lonely due to the fact that I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who liked me would not injure me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most 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 girl next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I might speak to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel developed and unique and loved. And someplace, in some way along that ride, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go home and see my real daddy and practically forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 prior to. However I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not assist it. It was programmed into me, maturing not as his daughter however as his spouse. We 'd done everything however consummate our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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