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I even began taking the cash, primarily because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the method of common sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing due to the fact that he could in fact charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of how many men I 'd had sex with. I didn't need to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal 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 2. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, however you 'd marvel the number of men wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor whore 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 mainly. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the things I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. However that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else since I needed to in fact like these guys for an hour or two. I needed to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men paying for me wanted a woman, simply a girl, and understanding that I actually was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it. I had a skill for the sex things 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 tutelary saint. I 'd felt actually guilty initially, but that had actually disappeared when I realized I wasn't harming anybody. The men loved me for a bit, although a few of them loved me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and deal 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, mostly I felt a little much safer that method. Like a guy who liked me would not hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys 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 child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and think of the guy who was making love to me actually was my dad. I might talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel special and developed and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not assist it.
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