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I even began taking the cash, primarily due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common 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 ladies do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he could really charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months currently, and I 'd lost track of how many guys I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Method 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. Choosing me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I believed was ludicrous, however you 'd be surprised the number of men desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage slut to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my daddy's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to in fact like these men for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it.
The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me for genuine 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 knew it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a guy who loved me would not hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me truly was my daddy. I could talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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