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I even started taking the money, mostly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of typical sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do. I hadn't been a little lady in a long time. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing since he could actually charge more, especially if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it.

I 'd been doing it for practically two months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of people I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot 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. Choosing me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I believed was absurd, but you 'd be surprised how many men wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor slut to suck and fuck . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the ideas that really flushed my bank account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. However that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to in fact like these people for an hour or 2. I needed to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a lady, simply a woman, and understanding that I actually was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it. I had a talent for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.

The guys 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 lonely due to the fact that I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me wouldn't harm me, you understand? 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 various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly.

I might close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me truly was my father. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and enjoyed. And someplace, somehow along that ride, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go house and see my real father and almost forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 prior to. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not assist it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his child however as his wife. We 'd done everything but practiced our relationship, I thought, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?

 

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