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I even started taking the cash, mostly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of typical sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I had not been a little girl in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing since he might in fact charge more, specifically if the person I was going with chosen me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically 2 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 money too. Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Choosing me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I believed was absurd, but you 'd be surprised the number of people wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a great deal of cash to invest and it was the tips that actually flushed my savings account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms 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 given that I had to in fact like these people for an hour or two. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a whore. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt actually guilty in the beginning, however that had actually disappeared when I recognized I wasn't harming anybody. The men loved me for a bit, although some of them liked me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least come back to their cities and deal with them. However 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 much safer that way. Like a guy who loved me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and envision the guy who was making love to me truly was my father. I might talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel developed and unique and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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