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I even started taking the money, mainly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt 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 silly things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing since he could in fact charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly 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 ludicrous, but you 'd be shocked how numerous guys desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor slut to suck and fuck . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my marketing 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. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to actually like these men for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men paying for me wanted a lady, simply a woman, and understanding that I actually was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The males enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 due to the fact that I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that method. Like a man who enjoyed me wouldn't harm 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 different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and think of the male who was making love to me truly was my dad. I might talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it.
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