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I even began taking the money, primarily since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret 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 women do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing because he could actually charge more, specifically if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost two months currently, and I 'd misplaced how many people I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Way excessive for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd be surprised the number of guys wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage whore to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. 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 stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to really like these people for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but 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 loved me for genuine 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely since I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a person who enjoyed me would not 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 maybe.
I could close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me actually was my papa. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it.
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