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I even began taking the cash, primarily because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the method 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 ladies do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing since he could actually charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months currently, and I 'd misplaced the number of guys I 'd had sex with. I didn't want to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Method 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. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was absurd, but you 'd be surprised the number of guys wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor slut to fuck and draw . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of money to spend and it was the ideas that truly flushed my checking account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous since he was my supervisor, my representative, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to in fact like these people for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it.
The guys liked me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me for real 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely since I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me would not hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me really was my daddy. I might speak to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel unique and full-grown and liked. And somewhere, in some way along that flight, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go house and see my genuine daddy and almost forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 before. However I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not assist it. It was set into me, growing up not as his daughter but as his partner. We 'd done everything however consummate our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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