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I even started taking the money, primarily due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way 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 girls do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing because he could in fact charge more, especially if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
Method 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 ridiculous, however you 'd be shocked how numerous men wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor slut to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my father's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. However that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I needed to in fact like these men for an hour or more. I needed to act younger in some cases too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; however never older. None of the men spending for me wanted 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 believe I had a genuine talent for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff 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 convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty in the beginning, but that had gone away when I understood I wasn't injuring anybody. 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 at least return to their cities and deal with them. However 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 lonely because I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who enjoyed me wouldn't hurt me, you know? 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 desired 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 envision the man who was making love to me really was my dad. I might talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and enjoyed. And someplace, somehow along that trip, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go home and see my real dad and almost forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two before. However I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not assist it. It was set into me, maturing not as his child however as his partner. We 'd done everything but skilled our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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