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I even began taking the cash, mainly 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 homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing because he could actually charge more, especially if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of how many men I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, but it had 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 2. Choosing me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was ridiculous, however you 'd marvel the number of men wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage slut to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a great deal of money to spend and it was the pointers that truly flushed my bank account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes 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 tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to really like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never 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 tutelary saint. I 'd felt actually guilty at first, however that had actually gone away when I recognized 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 a minimum of return to their cities and live with them. But 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 lonely due to the fact that I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I loved my father. That had actually altered too and I do not understand if something pertained to the other precisely, however I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wished to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps. However a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, which troubled me initially, however then it didn't and I started liking it.
I could close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me actually was my father. I could talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it.
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