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I even started taking the cash, mostly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the method of typical 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 ladies do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a very long time though.
I just worked three or four nights a week anyway, considering that I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good idea due to the fact that he could actually charge more, particularly if the man I was opting for picked me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it. I was always afraid someone would see me entering into a weird car, a different unusual car whenever, and question what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for practically two months already, and I 'd misplaced the number of men I 'd had sex with. I didn't need to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Way excessive 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. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was outrageous, however you 'd marvel the number of people desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor slut to fuck and draw . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the tips that actually flushed my savings account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my representative, my security man, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. However that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to in fact like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. None of the men paying for me desired a woman, just a lady, and knowing that I really was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt truly guilty at first, however that had gone away when I realized I wasn't injuring anyone. The men loved 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 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 since I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me wouldn't harm me, you understand? 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 various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me really was my daddy. I might talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and liked. And somewhere, somehow along that ride, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go house and see my genuine father and almost forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two prior to. However I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it. It was programmed into me, maturing not as his daughter but as his spouse. We 'd done whatever however skilled our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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