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I even started taking the money, primarily since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time though.
I only worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyway, since I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good idea since he might really charge more, especially if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it. I was constantly scared someone would see me entering into a unusual automobile, a different odd car every time, and question what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months currently, and I 'd lost track of the number of men 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 too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Selecting me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I thought was ludicrous, however you 'd marvel how many guys desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage whore to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the things I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to really like these men for an hour or 2. I needed to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men paying for me wanted a lady, just a girl, and understanding that I actually was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine skill for it. I had a talent for the sex things anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The guys 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome because I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a guy who liked me would not 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 wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me really was my daddy. I could speak with him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and developed and enjoyed. And someplace, in some way along that ride, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go house and see my real daddy and almost forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more prior to. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it. It was configured into me, maturing not as his daughter however as his better half. We 'd done whatever however practiced our relationship, I thought, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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