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I even began taking the money, primarily due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of common sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing due to the fact that he could really charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd be surprised how many guys wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor slut to fuck and suck . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a great deal of cash to invest and it was the suggestions that really flushed my checking account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to in fact like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome since I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a person who enjoyed me would not hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most 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 might close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me truly was my daddy. I might talk with him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel developed and unique and loved. And somewhere, somehow along that ride, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go house and see my genuine father and almost forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more before. But I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it. It was set into me, maturing not as his daughter however as his better half. We 'd done everything however practiced our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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