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I even started taking the money, primarily since I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do. I hadn't been a little woman in a long time. Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing due to the fact that he could in fact charge more, specifically if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.

I 'd been doing it for almost two months currently, and I 'd lost track of the number of guys I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd be surprised the number of men wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor slut to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my father's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the ideas that actually flushed my savings account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics 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. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to in fact like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it.

Mary Magdalene had actually been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty in the beginning, however that had disappeared when I realized I wasn't harming anybody. The men loved me for a bit, although a few of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or a minimum of return to their cities and cope with them. However 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 knew it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me would not harm me, you know? 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 desired to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe.

I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me actually was my father. I could talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel developed and unique and enjoyed. And someplace, somehow along that trip, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go home and see my real father and nearly forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 prior to. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it. It was configured into me, growing up not as his child but as his partner. We 'd done everything however skilled our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?

 

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