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I even began taking the money, mostly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of typical 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 ladies do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he might in fact charge more, especially if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically two months currently, and I 'd misplaced the number of guys I 'd had sex with. I didn't wish to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot 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. Choosing me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I thought was ridiculous, however you 'd be surprised how many men desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage slut to suck and fuck . These were all older people too, like my dad's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security guy, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. 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 2. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; but never ever older. None of the men paying for me desired a woman, simply a lady, and knowing that I really was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine skill for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. 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 disappeared when I recognized 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 lonesome because I understood it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that method. Like a person who enjoyed me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and think of the guy who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I could talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel full-grown and special and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it.
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