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I even started taking the money, mainly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way 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 time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing due to the fact that he could in fact charge more, particularly if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity 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. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was ridiculous, however you 'd be shocked how numerous guys desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage whore to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a great deal of money to invest and it was the tips that really flushed my bank account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require 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. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or more. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. None of the men paying for me desired a woman, just a woman, and knowing that I actually 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 anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 because I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that method. Like a man who enjoyed me would not harm me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and imagine the guy who was making love to me truly was my father. I might talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel unique and developed and liked. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it.
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