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I even started taking the cash, mainly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way 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 period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing due to the fact that he could actually charge more, specifically if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That advantage 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. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was ridiculous, but you 'd be stunned how numerous men wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage whore to suck 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 mainly. They had a lot of cash to spend and it was the ideas that actually flushed my savings account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my advertising and transportation 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 inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to in fact like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it.
The guys loved me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 due to the fact that I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a man who liked me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me truly was my father. I might talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel grown-up and unique and liked. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it.
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