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I even started taking the cash, primarily 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 girls do. I hadn't been a little woman in a long period of time though. I only worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyway, given that I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he might actually charge more, specifically if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it. I was constantly afraid someone would see me getting into a weird cars and truck, a various strange automobile whenever, and question what was going on.

Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was outrageous, but you 'd be shocked how lots of people wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage whore to fuck and suck . These were all older guys too, like my papa's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the ideas that truly flushed my bank account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I require 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. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else since I needed to really like these men for an hour or two. I needed to act younger in some cases too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men spending for me desired a lady, just a lady, and understanding that I truly was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.

Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty initially, but that had actually disappeared when I recognized I wasn't harming anybody. The men liked me for a little bit, although a few of them liked me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least return 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 lonely because I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who loved me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, many of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe.

I could close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me really was my papa. I might speak with him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and enjoyed. And somewhere, somehow along that trip, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go house and see my real daddy and almost forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more before. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it. It was configured into me, maturing not as his child but as his partner. We 'd done everything but consummate our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?

 

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