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I even started taking the cash, mostly because 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 girls do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing since he might actually 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.
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, however you 'd be shocked how numerous guys wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to fuck and suck . These were all older men too, like my papa's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the ideas that really flushed my savings account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need 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 considering that I had to in fact like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little lady 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 men liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome since I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that method. 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 child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and picture the guy who was making love to me really was my father. I might talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel developed and unique and liked. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it.
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