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I even began taking the cash, primarily due to the fact that 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 girls do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing due to the fact that he could in fact charge more, specifically if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd be surprised 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 father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. But that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else because I needed to actually like these guys for an hour or more. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; however never older. None of the men spending for me desired a female, 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 real talent for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for genuine 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 lonely because I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys 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 child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and picture the male who was making love to me really was my dad. I might talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel unique and full-grown and liked. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it.
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