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I even began taking the money, mostly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret 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 ridiculous things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing due to the fact that he might actually charge more, particularly if the man 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 actually like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ridiculous, but you 'd be shocked how many people desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage slut to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my papa's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the things I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or two. I needed to act younger in some cases too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; however never older. None of the men paying for me desired a woman, just a woman, and understanding that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the 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 really guilty at first, but that had gone away when I recognized I wasn't hurting anybody. The men loved me for a little bit, although a few of them enjoyed me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least 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 due to the fact that I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I loved my father. That had changed too and I don't understand if one thing pertained to the other precisely, but 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. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly. But a great deal of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at first, but then it didn't and I started liking it.
I could close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me really was my dad. I could talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it.
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