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I even started taking the money, mainly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of typical 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 women do. I had not been a little lady in a long time. I just worked 3 or four nights a week anyhow, since I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he said that was a advantage because he could actually charge more, specifically if the person I was choosing selected me up at school. That opportunity ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it. I was always afraid somebody would see me entering a weird automobile, a various weird cars and truck each time, and wonder what was going on.

I 'd been doing it for practically two months already, and I 'd lost track of how many people I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Method too much 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. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was absurd, but you 'd be surprised the number of men desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage whore to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my papa's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. But that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to actually like these guys for an hour or 2. I needed to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; however never older. None of the men paying for me desired a woman, simply a girl, and knowing that I truly was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it. I had a talent for the sex things anyway, 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 actually guilty in the beginning, but that had disappeared when I understood I wasn't injuring anyone. The men enjoyed me for a bit, although some of them enjoyed me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed 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 lonesome because I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a person who liked 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 wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe.

I might close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me actually was my dad. I might speak to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and full-grown and loved. And somewhere, somehow along that ride, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go home and see my real dad and almost forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 before. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it. It was set into me, maturing not as his daughter however as his wife. We 'd done everything but consummate our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?

 

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