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I even began taking the cash, mostly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way 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 women do.
I had not been a little woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing since he might really charge more, especially if the person I was going with chosen me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months currently, and I 'd misplaced how many people I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Selecting me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I thought was outrageous, but you 'd marvel the number of men wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage whore to fuck and suck . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a great deal of money to spend and it was the tips that really flushed my checking account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my agent, my security person, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it.
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 in the beginning, however that had actually gone away when I understood I wasn't injuring anybody. The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of return to their cities and live with them. But 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 man who loved me wouldn't injure me, you know? 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 desired to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and think of the guy who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and liked. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it.
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