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I even began taking the cash, mainly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt 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 women do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing because he could actually charge more, specifically if the person I was going with chosen me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was ludicrous, but you 'd be stunned how numerous people desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor 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 primarily. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the things I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. However that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else because I needed to really like these people for an hour or two. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men spending for me desired a lady, simply a lady, and knowing that I truly was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe 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 much 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 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 due to the fact that I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a person who liked me would not hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and imagine the guy who was making love to me actually was my father. I might talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it.
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