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I even began taking the money, mostly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little woman in a very long time though.
I only worked three or 4 nights a week anyway, given that I had to be house by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing since he could actually charge more, especially if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it. I was always afraid somebody would see me getting into a weird car, a different strange cars and truck whenever, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months currently, and I 'd lost track of the number of people I 'd had sex with. I didn't want to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot 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 two. Picking me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I believed was ridiculous, however you 'd marvel how many men desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage slut to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the pointers that really flushed my bank account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my supervisor, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else since I needed to really like these people for an hour or more. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men paying for me desired a lady, simply a lady, and understanding that I really was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty in the beginning, but that had disappeared when I recognized I wasn't hurting anybody. The men liked me for a bit, although a few of them enjoyed me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least return 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 lonely since I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who loved me would not hurt me, you know? 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 desired to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me actually was my father. I could talk with him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and liked. And somewhere, somehow along that flight, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go home and see my real daddy and almost forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two before. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it. It was configured into me, maturing not as his child but as his spouse. We 'd done everything however skilled our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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