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I even began taking the cash, mostly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common 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 lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing due to the fact that he might in fact charge more, specifically if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost 2 months already, and I 'd misplaced how many men 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. Method too much 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. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was outrageous, but you 'd be surprised the number of men desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor whore to suck and fuck . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the things I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or more. I needed to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men paying for me wanted a woman, just a woman, and knowing that I truly was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine skill for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The men liked 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 lonely due to the fact that I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that method. Like a guy who enjoyed me wouldn't hurt 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 wanted to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and envision the guy who was making love to me really was my dad. I could talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not assist it.
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