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I even started taking the money, primarily due to the fact that I was much too useful 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 research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little girl in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing due to the fact that he could in fact charge more, especially if the man 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 truly like it.
Way 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 thought was ludicrous, however you 'd be surprised how many guys desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor whore to fuck and draw . These were all older guys 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 invest and it was the ideas that truly flushed my checking account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my supervisor, my representative, my security guy, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk 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 because I had to really like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it.
The men 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome because I understood it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that method. Like a guy who liked me would not injure me, you know? 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 daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me really was my daddy. I could talk with him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and liked. And somewhere, in some way along that flight, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go home and see my real father and practically forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two prior to. But I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his daughter but as his better half. We 'd done everything however consummate our relationship, I believed, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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