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I even started taking the cash, mostly since I was much too practical 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 homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long period of time though.
I just worked 3 or four nights a week anyway, considering that I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good idea due to the fact that he could actually charge more, specifically if the guy I was opting for picked me up at school. That advantage ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it. I was always afraid somebody would see me entering a strange vehicle, a different unusual automobile whenever, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for almost two months already, and I 'd misplaced how many men I 'd had sex with. I didn't need to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Way 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 two. Selecting me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I thought was ludicrous, but you 'd marvel how many guys desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage whore to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the things I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to really like these people for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men spending for me desired a female, just a girl, and knowing that I actually was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The men loved me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for real 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 since 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 injure me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me really was my father. I could speak with him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel grown-up and unique and loved. And somewhere, somehow along that ride, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go home and see my real daddy and nearly forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 prior to. But I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not assist it. It was configured into me, maturing not as his daughter but as his better half. We 'd done whatever but consummate our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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