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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 method 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 lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing since he might really charge more, especially if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was absurd, however you 'd be shocked how many people wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor whore to fuck and draw . These were all older men too, like my daddy's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of money to spend and it was the suggestions that truly flushed my checking account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else because I needed to in fact like these guys for an hour or two. I needed to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. None of the men spending for me wanted a woman, just a lady, and knowing that I truly was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The males loved me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me for real 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely since I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me would not harm me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most 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 woman next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and imagine the male who was making love to me really was my papa. I could talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and developed and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it.
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