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I even started taking the cash, mostly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the method of typical sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous 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 excellent thing since he could actually charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.

I 'd been doing it for almost two months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of men I 'd made love with. I didn't would like to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Method 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 2. Picking me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I believed was ridiculous, however you 'd be surprised how many men desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage slut to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my papa's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a great deal of cash to spend and it was the ideas that actually flushed my savings account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing 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. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to in fact like these people for an hour or two. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it.

Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt truly guilty in the beginning, but that had gone away when I recognized I wasn't harming anybody. The men liked me for a bit, although a few of them liked me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or a minimum of return to their cities and deal 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 because I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who liked me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, many of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe.

I could close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and loved. And someplace, somehow along that ride, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go house and see my real dad and nearly forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 before. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't assist it. It was set into me, growing up not as his child however as his spouse. We 'd done everything however practiced our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?

 

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