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I even began taking the cash, primarily since I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of typical 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 women do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing since he could really charge more, specifically if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was absurd, but you 'd be stunned how lots of people wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage whore to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to actually like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent 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 actually guilty at first, but that had actually gone away when I understood I wasn't hurting anybody. The men loved me for a little bit, although a few of them liked me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least come back 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 lonesome because I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that method. Like a person who loved me would not hurt 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 wanted to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me really was my papa. I could talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it.
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