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I even started taking the money, mostly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the method of common sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do.
I had not been a little lady in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing since he could actually charge more, specifically if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was outrageous, however you 'd be surprised how numerous people wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage slut to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of cash to spend and it was the suggestions that truly flushed my checking account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my supervisor, my agent, my security guy, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to in fact like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt really guilty initially, however that had gone away when I understood I wasn't harming anyone. The men loved me for a little bit, although a few of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or a minimum of return to their cities and live with them. However they loved who I pretended to be for that short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome since I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people 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 child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me really was my father. I could speak with him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and liked. And someplace, somehow along that trip, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go house and see my real papa and practically forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two prior to. But I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it. It was programmed into me, maturing not as his child however as his better half. We 'd done everything but consummate our relationship, I believed, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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