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I even began taking the money, mainly since I was much too practical 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 ridiculous things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing because he might in fact charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly two months already, and I 'd misplaced how many men I 'd made love with. I didn't would like to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Method excessive for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Selecting me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I believed was ridiculous, but you 'd be surprised how many people desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor whore to fuck and suck . These were all older men too, like my daddy's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security guy, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the things I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to really like these men for an hour or more. I needed to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a woman, simply a girl, and knowing that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think 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 much 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 truly guilty initially, however that had gone away when I realized I wasn't hurting anybody. The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least return 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 since I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me would not hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and picture the male who was making love to me truly was my dad. I could talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel grown-up and unique and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it.
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