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I even started taking the cash, primarily because I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of typical 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 ladies do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long period of time though.
I only worked three or four nights a week anyhow, since 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 since he might really charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it. I was always scared someone would see me entering a unusual car, a various odd vehicle each time, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for almost two months currently, 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 lot of cash too. Method 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 2. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was ludicrous, but you 'd marvel the number of guys wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage 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 manager, my representative, my security guy, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the things I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to actually like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never 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 liked 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely because I understood it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that method. Like a man who enjoyed me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me really was my papa. I could talk with him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel grown-up and unique and loved. And somewhere, in some way along that ride, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go home and see my genuine papa and almost forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 before. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it. It was set into me, growing up not as his child but as his wife. We 'd done everything but practiced our relationship, I believed, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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