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I even started taking the cash, mostly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the method of typical sense. I would have been just 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 due to the fact that he might really charge more, particularly if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of how many guys I 'd had sex with. I didn't want to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Way 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. Choosing me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was ridiculous, but you 'd be surprised how many men desired exactly 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 people too, like my father's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to really like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years of ages; but never ever older. None of the men paying for me wanted a female, simply a woman, 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 talent for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The guys loved me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 lonesome because I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a guy who loved me would not harm me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty men 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 child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and envision the guy who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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