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I even started taking the cash, mainly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little women do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing because he might actually charge more, especially if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically two months currently, and I 'd misplaced how many people I 'd had sex with. I didn't need to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash 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. Selecting me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was outrageous, however you 'd be surprised how many guys wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor whore to suck and fuck . These were all older people too, like my papa's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a great deal of money to spend and it was the ideas that actually flushed my bank account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms 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 because I had to actually like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it.
The guys loved 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 lonely because I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who liked me would not 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 desired to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me really was my father. I might talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and liked. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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