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I even started taking the money, primarily 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 homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do. I had not been a little woman in a long time. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing since he could actually charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.

I 'd been doing it for almost 2 months currently, and I 'd lost track of the number of people I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Way 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. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, however you 'd marvel the number of guys wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor slut to suck and fuck . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the tips that actually flushed my savings account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security person, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I require 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 men for an hour or 2. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it.

Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt really guilty at first, but that had disappeared when I realized I wasn't injuring anyone. The men liked me for a bit, although some of them loved me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least return to their cities and deal 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 actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that method. Like a guy who liked me would not harm me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe.

I might close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me actually was my father. I could talk with him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and developed and liked. And someplace, in some way along that trip, I 'd started to think 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 prior to. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it. It was set into me, maturing not as his daughter however as his other 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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