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I even began taking the cash, mainly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common 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 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 since he might in fact charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, but you 'd be surprised how many men wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage slut to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the pointers that actually flushed my checking account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my supervisor, my representative, my security man, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing 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 actually like these people for an hour or two. I had to act younger often too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill 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 actually guilty initially, but that had actually disappeared when I recognized I wasn't injuring anyone. The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them liked me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and cope 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 understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a man who enjoyed me would not hurt me, you understand? I was in love with my dad. That had actually altered too and I do not understand if something involved the other exactly, but I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty people or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wished to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at initially, however then it didn't and I began liking it.
I could close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me truly was my papa. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and liked. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it.
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