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I even began taking the money, mostly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common 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 hadn't been a little girl in a long period of time though.
I just worked 3 or four nights a week anyhow, given that I had to be house by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good idea due to the fact that he could actually charge more, particularly if the guy I was opting for selected me up at school. That opportunity ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it. I was constantly afraid somebody would see me entering into a strange vehicle, a various unusual vehicle whenever, and wonder what was going on.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was outrageous, however you 'd be stunned how numerous men wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor whore to fuck and suck . These were all older guys too, like my daddy's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a great deal of money to spend and it was the pointers that really flushed my savings account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security person, 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 considering that I had to in fact like these people for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it.
The men loved me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a person who loved me wouldn't injure me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, many of them desiring 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 woman next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me truly was my father. I might talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel grown-up and unique and enjoyed. And somewhere, in some way along that trip, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go home and see my real father and practically forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two before. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it. It was programmed into me, maturing not as his daughter but as his better half. We 'd done everything but consummate our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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