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I even began taking the money, primarily due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common 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 had not been a little girl in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing due to the fact that he could really charge more, especially if the person I was going with chosen me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly two months already, and I 'd lost track of how many guys I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was outrageous, however you 'd marvel the number of people wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor whore to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the things I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to really like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act younger often too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real 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 really guilty initially, but that had actually gone away when I recognized I wasn't injuring anyone. The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although a few of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least return 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 lonely since I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who loved me wouldn't injure me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them desiring 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 girl next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me really was my father. I might speak to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel special and developed and liked. And someplace, in some way along that ride, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go house and see my real father 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 could not assist it. It was configured into me, maturing not as his daughter however as his wife. We 'd done everything but consummate our relationship, I believed, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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