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I even began taking the money, mostly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of typical sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little women do. I hadn't been a little woman in a very long 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 ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he could in fact charge more, specifically if the man I was going with picked 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 was constantly scared someone would see me entering a strange vehicle, a various unusual car each time, and question what was going on.

Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd be shocked how many people desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage slut to fuck and suck . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of cash to spend and it was the ideas that actually flushed my checking account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap 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 considering that I had to actually like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it.

The guys enjoyed 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 lonesome since I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who liked me would not injure me, you understand? 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 wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door possibly.

I could close my eyes and imagine the guy who was making love to me really was my father. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it.

 

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