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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 method of common sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time.
I only worked three or 4 nights a week anyway, since I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. 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 advantage turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it. I was always scared somebody would see me getting into a strange car, a various unusual automobile whenever, and wonder what was going on.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was absurd, however you 'd be surprised how lots of men wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor slut to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a great deal of cash to spend and it was the suggestions that truly flushed my bank account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to in fact like these people for an hour or two. I had to act younger often too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt actually guilty in the beginning, but that had gone away when I recognized I wasn't injuring anybody. The men loved me for a little bit, although a few of them liked 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 due to the fact that I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me wouldn't injure 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 various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and picture the male who was making love to me actually was my dad. I might talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel developed and special and liked. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't assist it.
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