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I even started taking the money, primarily since I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt 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 ladies do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing since he could really 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 extra, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically two months already, and I 'd lost track of how many guys I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Way excessive for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Choosing me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I thought was ridiculous, however you 'd be surprised the number of guys desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage whore to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous since he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased 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 because I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt truly guilty initially, but that had actually disappeared when I understood I wasn't hurting anyone. The men loved me for a bit, although a few of them liked me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry 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 lonesome because I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who loved me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I was in love with my dad. That had altered too and I do not understand if one thing pertained to the other exactly, but I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, the majority of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wished to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at initially, however then it didn't and I began liking it.
I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me truly was my daddy. I might talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel developed and unique and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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