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I even began taking the cash, mostly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do.
I had not been a little woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing since he might in fact charge more, especially if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was absurd, however you 'd be shocked how lots of guys desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor slut to fuck and draw . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the suggestions that really flushed my checking account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes 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. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to in fact like these men for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine skill for it.
The guys liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely because I understood it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that way. Like a person who loved me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people 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 woman next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I might talk with him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel developed and unique and liked. And somewhere, somehow along that ride, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go house and see my real daddy and almost forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more before. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not assist it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his child however as his other half. We 'd done everything however skilled our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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