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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 guilt get in the method of typical sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing because he might in fact charge more, particularly if the person I was going with chosen me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, however you 'd be stunned how lots of men wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage whore to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security guy, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. But that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else since I needed to in fact like these men for an hour or 2. I needed to act younger in some cases too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; but never ever older. None of the men spending for me desired a female, just a woman, and knowing that I actually was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill 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 slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty at first, however that had actually gone away when I realized I wasn't harming anyone. The men loved me for a bit, although a few of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and deal with them. But 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 because I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who liked me wouldn't injure me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys 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 child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and think of the male who was making love to me really was my papa. I might talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and liked. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't assist it.
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