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I even started taking the money, mainly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of typical sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing due to the fact that he could really charge more, specifically if the person I was going with chosen me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically two months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of men I 'd had sex with. I didn't wish to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Way 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. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was outrageous, but you 'd be surprised the number of people wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor slut to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my father's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to really like these men for an hour or two. I had to act younger often too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it.
The males enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them liked 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 lonesome due to the fact that I knew it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that way. Like a man who loved me would not harm me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people 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 lady next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and imagine the guy who was making love to me truly was my papa. I could talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel developed and unique and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not assist it.
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