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I even started taking the cash, mainly 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 just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing since he could really charge more, especially if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost two months currently, and I 'd lost track of how many people I 'd had sex with. I didn't need to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Picking me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I believed was ludicrous, however you 'd be surprised how many people desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my papa's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security person, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to really like these people for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it.
The males enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome due to the fact that I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that method. Like a person who loved me wouldn't injure me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, most 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 girl next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and imagine the guy who was making love to me really was my father. I might talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and developed and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it.
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