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I even began taking the cash, primarily since I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of common sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing because he could in fact charge more, particularly if the person I was going with chosen me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was absurd, however you 'd be shocked how lots of guys wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the pointers that actually flushed my checking account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my supervisor, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought 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. But that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to really like these guys for an hour or more. I needed to act younger sometimes too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; but never ever older. None of the men paying for me wanted a woman, simply a lady, and knowing that I actually was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it. I had a talent for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The guys loved 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 due to the fact that I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a person who liked me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most 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 imagine the man who was making love to me actually was my father. I could speak to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and liked. And somewhere, in some way along that ride, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go house and see my genuine father and almost forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two prior to. However I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it. It was set into me, maturing not as his daughter however as his better half. We 'd done whatever however practiced our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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