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I even started taking the cash, mostly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of typical sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time though.
I only worked three or four nights a week anyhow, considering that I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing since he could really charge more, particularly if the guy I was choosing chosen me up at school. That opportunity ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it. I was constantly scared someone would see me entering a unusual car, a different strange automobile every time, and wonder what was going on.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was outrageous, but you 'd be surprised how many guys desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor whore to suck and fuck . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the things I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to really like these people for an hour or two. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine skill for it.
The males loved 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely due to the fact that I knew it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that method. Like a guy who enjoyed me wouldn't injure me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most 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 woman next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and envision the male who was making love to me really was my papa. I could talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't assist it.
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