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I even started taking the cash, primarily because I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret 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 girls do. I had not been a little woman in a long time. I just worked three or 4 nights a week anyway, because I had to be house by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing due to the fact that he could really charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it. I was constantly afraid somebody would see me entering a strange cars and truck, a different odd cars and truck whenever, and wonder what was going on.

Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was outrageous, however you 'd be stunned how many guys wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor 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 since he was my supervisor, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the things I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk 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 younger in some cases too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it.

The guys loved me for a little bit, although some of them liked 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 since I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who enjoyed me wouldn't harm me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty men 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 daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps.

I could close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me actually was my father. I could talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and enjoyed. And someplace, in some way along that flight, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go house and see my real daddy and practically forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more before. However I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it. It was set into me, maturing not as his daughter however as his partner. We 'd done everything however consummate our relationship, I believed, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?

 

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