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I even started taking the cash, mostly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the method of common sense. I would have been just 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 girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing due to the fact that he might really charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly two months currently, and I 'd misplaced the number of guys I 'd had sex with. I didn't want to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Way 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 absurd, but you 'd be surprised how many people desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor whore to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to really like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt actually guilty in the beginning, but that had actually disappeared when I realized I wasn't hurting anyone. The men loved me for a bit, although some of them enjoyed me genuine 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 lonely because I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that method. Like a person who loved me would not hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, many 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 girl next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and envision the male who was making love to me truly was my father. I might talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't assist it.
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