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I even started taking the money, mainly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of common 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 girls do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing because he might in fact charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ludicrous, however you 'd be shocked how numerous people desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage whore to fuck and suck . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a great deal of cash to invest and it was the suggestions that truly flushed my bank account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to in fact like these men for an hour or 2. I needed to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; however never older. None of the men spending for me desired a woman, just a girl, and knowing that I truly was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty at first, but that had gone away when I realized I wasn't harming anyone. The men loved me for a bit, although a few of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least return to their cities and deal with them. But they loved 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, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who enjoyed me would not hurt 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 various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me really was my papa. I could speak with him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and liked. And somewhere, in some way along that ride, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go home and see my real father and practically forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 prior to. However I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it. It was configured into me, growing up not as his child however as his wife. We 'd done everything but skilled our relationship, I believed, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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