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I even began taking the cash, mostly 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 research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little girl in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he could really charge more, particularly if the person I was going with chosen me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost 2 months currently, and I 'd misplaced the number of guys I 'd made love with. I didn't would like to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Way excessive 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. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was ridiculous, however you 'd marvel the number of people wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, 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 money to invest and it was the ideas that truly flushed my bank account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous because he was my supervisor, my representative, my security person, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. But that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to actually like these people for an hour or more. I needed to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. None of the men spending for me desired a female, simply a girl, and knowing that I actually was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The males liked me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd marry 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 since I knew it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that method. Like a man who enjoyed me wouldn't injure me, you know? 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 different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me really was my father. I could speak with him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and developed and enjoyed. And someplace, in some way along that ride, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go house and see my real daddy and nearly forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 before. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it. It was set into me, maturing not as his daughter but as his spouse. We 'd done whatever but consummate our relationship, I believed, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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