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I even began taking the money, mainly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of typical sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing because he might really charge more, specifically if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage 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. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was outrageous, but you 'd be stunned how numerous men desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage slut to fuck and draw . 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 stated that was generous since he was my supervisor, my representative, my security man, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the things I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to really like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it.
The males loved me for a little bit, although some of them liked 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 lonesome because I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who liked me would not 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 different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and picture the guy who was making love to me actually was my father. I could talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel full-grown and special and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't assist it.
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