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I even started taking the money, mostly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of typical sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he could actually charge more, especially if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was ludicrous, however you 'd be stunned how many guys wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage whore to fuck and draw . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my representative, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the things I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to really like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men spending for me desired a woman, just a woman, and understanding that I truly was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyhow, 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 comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty at first, however that had actually disappeared when I understood I wasn't harming anybody. The men liked me for a bit, although some of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and live 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 lonesome because I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that method. Like a guy who loved me wouldn't injure me, you know? I loved my father. That had changed too and I don't understand if something involved the other specifically, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty people or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wished to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe. However a great deal of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at first, however then it didn't and I began liking it.
I could close my eyes and think of the guy who was making love to me actually was my father. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel full-grown and special and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it.
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