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I even began taking the cash, mostly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the method 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 ladies do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing since he could really charge more, particularly if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ludicrous, however you 'd be surprised how many guys wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage slut to fuck and suck . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the pointers that really flushed my checking account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous because he was my supervisor, my representative, my security guy, 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. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to actually like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it.
The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 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, mostly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a guy who liked me wouldn't harm me, you know? 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 desired to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me actually was my papa. I could talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and loved. And someplace, in some way along that ride, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go house and see my genuine father and nearly forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two before. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it. It was configured into me, maturing not as his daughter but as his partner. We 'd done everything however practiced our relationship, I believed, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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