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I even began taking the money, mainly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the method of typical sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing due to the fact that he could in fact charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with picked 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 practically 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of people I 'd had sex with. I didn't wish to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Method 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. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was outrageous, but you 'd be surprised the number of people desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage slut to fuck and suck . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my representative, my security guy, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to really like these guys for an hour or two. I needed to act younger often too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; however never ever older. None of the men paying for me desired a lady, simply a lady, and understanding that I actually was just 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 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 at first, but that had disappeared when I realized I wasn't injuring anyone. The men liked me for a little bit, although a few of them loved me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and live with them. They were in love with who I pretended to be for that brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely because I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who loved me wouldn't hurt me, you know? 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 different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me really was my dad. I might speak with him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and enjoyed. And someplace, somehow along that ride, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go home and see my real father and nearly forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 prior to. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it. It was set into me, growing up not as his daughter but as his better half. 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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