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I even started taking the cash, mostly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way 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 hadn't been a little woman in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing because he could in fact charge more, especially if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ridiculous, however you 'd be surprised how many men wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage slut to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the tips that actually flushed my bank account. Deke provided 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 clothing and the stuff I require 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 considering that I needed to really like these men for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. None of the men paying for me wanted a lady, 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 genuine 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 liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome due to the fact that I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that method. Like a guy who liked me would not hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, many of them wanting 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 possibly.
I might close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me actually was my dad. I might talk to him, inform him I enjoyed 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 assist it.
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