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I even started taking the cash, primarily because 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 silly things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time.
I only worked 3 or four nights a week anyway, given that I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he might actually charge more, especially if the guy I was opting for selected me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it. I was always scared somebody would see me entering a unusual cars and truck, a various unusual car whenever, and wonder what was going on.
Way 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 believed was ludicrous, but you 'd be shocked how lots of people wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage whore to fuck and suck . These were all older men too, like my father's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my representative, my security guy, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I needed to really like these people for an hour or 2. I needed to act younger in some cases too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; but never ever older. None of the men paying for me desired a lady, just a girl, and understanding that I actually was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty in the beginning, however that had actually gone away when I recognized I wasn't injuring anybody. The men liked me for a little bit, although a few of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of 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 because I knew it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that way. Like a person who enjoyed me would not hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them desiring 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 woman next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and envision the male who was making love to me really was my dad. I could talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not assist it.
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