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I even started taking the money, mainly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way 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 hadn't been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he might actually charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months already, and I 'd misplaced how many guys I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal 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 believed was outrageous, but you 'd marvel the number of guys wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage slut to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my father's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a great deal of money to spend and it was the pointers that truly flushed my checking account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous since he was my supervisor, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap 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 men for an hour or two. I had to act younger often too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt truly guilty in the beginning, however that had disappeared when I understood I wasn't hurting anyone. The men enjoyed me for a bit, although some of them enjoyed me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least return to their cities and cope with them. 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 due to the fact that I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a person who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most of them wanting 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 maybe.
I might close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me truly was my father. I could talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and liked. And someplace, in some way along that ride, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go home and see my genuine daddy and practically forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two prior to. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it. It was programmed into me, maturing not as his child however as his better half. We 'd done everything however skilled our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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