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I even began taking the cash, mainly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of typical 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 girls do.
I had not been a little girl in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing because he might really charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
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 ridiculous, however you 'd be stunned how numerous people desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage whore to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it.
The guys loved 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome because I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that method. Like a guy who liked me would not harm me, you know? 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 child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and liked. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it.
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