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I even began taking the cash, primarily since 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 ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little woman in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing since he could really charge more, specifically if the person I was going with chosen me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost 2 months already, and I 'd misplaced the number of people I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Method 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. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was outrageous, however you 'd be surprised how many people desired exactly 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 typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my representative, my security man, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. But that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to really like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. None of the men spending for me desired a female, simply a lady, and knowing that I truly was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it. I had a talent for the sex things anyhow, 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 comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt really guilty in the beginning, however that had disappeared when I understood I wasn't harming anyone. The men liked me for a bit, although some of them loved me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least come back to their cities and cope 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 really me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who enjoyed me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me actually was my father. I might speak with him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel full-grown and special and enjoyed. And somewhere, in some way along that ride, I 'd started to think 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 full-grown love, and I couldn't help it. It was set into me, maturing not as his daughter but as his better half. We 'd done whatever but consummate our relationship, I thought, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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