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I even began taking the money, mainly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of typical sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies 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 could in fact charge more, specifically if the guy 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.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was outrageous, but you 'd be shocked how numerous guys wanted 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 men too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the things I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to really like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt actually guilty at first, but that had gone away when I realized I wasn't harming anybody. The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least return to their cities and cope 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 actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that method. Like a man who loved me would not injure me, you know? I loved my dad. That had actually changed too and I do not know if one thing related to the other precisely, but I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, the majority of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wished to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at first, however then it didn't and I started liking it.
I could close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me really was my papa. I could talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel special and developed and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it.
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