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I even began taking the money, mainly because I was much too useful 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 silly things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing due to the fact that he might really charge more, especially if the man 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 nearly 2 months currently, and I 'd misplaced how many 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 cash too. Method excessive 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. Choosing me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was ridiculous, but you 'd marvel how many guys wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage slut to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of money to spend and it was the pointers that really flushed my checking account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my supervisor, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased 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 tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to really like these men for an hour or two. I had to act younger often too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it.
The males liked me for a little bit, although some of them liked 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 lonesome since I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who liked me wouldn't harm me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them desiring 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 possibly.
I could close my eyes and think of the guy who was making love to me truly was my dad. I might talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it.
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