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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 typical 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 women do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time.
I just worked three or 4 nights a week anyhow, considering that I needed to be house by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing since he might in fact charge more, especially if the person 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 was constantly scared someone would see me entering into a odd vehicle, a various odd car whenever, and question what was going on.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was ludicrous, but you 'd be stunned how many guys desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage slut to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous since he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. But that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to actually like these men for an hour or 2. I needed to act younger often too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men spending for me desired a lady, simply a lady, 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 talent for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty at first, but that had gone away when I recognized I wasn't injuring anyone. The men liked me for a bit, although a few of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least return to their cities and live with them. However they loved who I pretended to be for that short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely because I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who loved me would not hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people 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 daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me really was my father. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not assist it.
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