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I even began taking the cash, mostly 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 simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing due to the fact that he might really charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, but you 'd be stunned how many men desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage slut to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my daddy's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I needed to actually like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men paying for me desired a woman, simply a woman, and understanding that I really was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The guys liked me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 lonely due to the fact that I understood it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that method. Like a guy who enjoyed me wouldn't hurt 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 child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me actually was my dad. I could speak to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and developed and enjoyed. And somewhere, somehow along that flight, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go house and see my real father and practically forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 prior to. But I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not assist it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his daughter but as his partner. We 'd done whatever but practiced our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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