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I even started taking the money, mainly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way 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 ladies do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing due to the fact that he could in fact charge more, specifically if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, but you 'd be stunned how lots of guys desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage slut to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous since he was my supervisor, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to actually like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it.
The males 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely because I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a person who enjoyed me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and imagine the guy who was making love to me actually was my papa. I might talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it.
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