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I even started taking the cash, mainly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the method 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 girls do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long period of time though.
I just worked three or 4 nights a week anyway, since 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 because he might in fact charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it. I was always scared someone would see me entering into a strange cars and truck, a various odd car each time, and question what was going on.
Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was absurd, however you 'd be shocked how lots of guys desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor slut to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my daddy'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 person, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to actually like these people for an hour or more. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a lady, simply a girl, and knowing that I actually was simply 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 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 patron saint. I 'd felt truly guilty initially, however that had actually gone away when I recognized I wasn't hurting anyone. The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a person who loved me would not harm me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most of them wanting 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 lady next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and imagine the guy who was making love to me truly was my father. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel developed and unique and liked. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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