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I even began taking the money, mainly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of typical sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he could actually charge more, especially if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly 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 thought was ridiculous, however you 'd be shocked how numerous men desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of cash to spend and it was the suggestions that actually flushed my savings account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my representative, my security man, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms 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. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to actually like these guys for an hour or more. I needed to act younger in some cases too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. None of the men spending for me wanted a lady, simply a lady, and understanding that I actually was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine skill for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The guys loved me for a little bit, although some of them liked 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely because I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that method. Like a man who liked me would not hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men 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 child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me really was my daddy. I might speak with him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and liked. And somewhere, in some way along that trip, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go house and see my genuine daddy and nearly forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two prior to. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it. It was configured into me, maturing not as his daughter but as his partner. We 'd done everything but practiced our relationship, I believed, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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