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I even began taking the money, primarily because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of common sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do.
I had not been a little woman in a long time.
I only worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyway, because I had to be house by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he said that was a advantage due to the fact that he might actually charge more, especially if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it. I was constantly scared someone would see me getting into a weird automobile, a various weird automobile each time, and wonder what was going on.
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 thought was absurd, however you 'd be shocked how lots of people wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage slut to suck and fuck . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the things I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. However that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I needed to actually like these men for an hour or more. I needed to act more youthful often too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years of ages; but never ever older. None of the men spending for me wanted a female, simply a girl, and knowing that I actually was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty at first, but that had actually gone away when I recognized I wasn't hurting anybody. The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least come back to their cities and cope 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 because I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me would not hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me really was my papa. I could talk with him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel full-grown and special and enjoyed. And somewhere, in some way along that ride, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go house and see my real dad and nearly forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 before. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his child however as his partner. We 'd done whatever but consummate our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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