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I even started taking the money, mostly because I was much too useful 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 ladies do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time.
I only worked three or four nights a week anyhow, because I had to be house by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he might actually charge more, particularly if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That benefit ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it. I was always scared somebody would see me entering into a unusual car, a various weird vehicle whenever, and question what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months currently, and I 'd lost track of the number of people I 'd made love with. I didn't need 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 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 extra 200, which I believed was ridiculous, but you 'd marvel the number of people wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor whore to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the things I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to really like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt truly guilty at first, but that had actually disappeared when I realized I wasn't injuring anybody. The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or a minimum of return to their cities and live 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 due to the fact that I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that method. Like a guy who enjoyed me wouldn't injure me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, many 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 lady 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, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and enjoyed. And someplace, somehow along that ride, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go house and see my genuine papa and nearly forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two prior to. However I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it. It was set into me, maturing not as his daughter however as his wife. We 'd done whatever but consummate our relationship, I thought, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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