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I even began taking the money, mostly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of typical sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing since he might in fact charge more, particularly if the guy 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 really like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically two months currently, and I 'd misplaced how many men I 'd had sex with. I didn't need to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Method 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 deserved an additional 200, which I believed was absurd, however you 'd be surprised how many people desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor whore to fuck and suck . These were all older people too, like my dad's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or 2. I needed to act younger sometimes too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men paying for me desired a female, just a girl, and understanding that I truly was simply 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 things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The men liked 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 understood it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who enjoyed me would not 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 maybe.
I might close my eyes and imagine the male who was making love to me actually was my father. I might talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel grown-up and unique and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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