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I even began taking the money, mainly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret 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 ridiculous things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a very long time though.
I just worked 3 or four nights a week anyhow, given that I needed to be house by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing because he might actually charge more, particularly if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it. I was constantly scared somebody would see me entering a odd car, a various weird vehicle whenever, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for practically two months already, and I 'd misplaced the number of men I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was absurd, but you 'd be surprised the number of people wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage whore to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my papa's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the things I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. But that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to really like these guys for an hour or more. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years of ages; however never older. None of the men paying for me desired a female, simply a lady, and understanding that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the 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 lonesome due to the fact that I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that way. Like a person who liked me wouldn't 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 desired to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me actually was my father. I might speak with him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and loved. And somewhere, somehow along that flight, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go home and see my real daddy and nearly forget that it had not 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 configured into me, maturing not as his child however as his other half. We 'd done everything however consummate our relationship, I believed, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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