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I even started taking the cash, mostly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of typical sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little women do.
I had not been a little lady in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing due to the fact that he could really charge more, especially if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was outrageous, but you 'd be surprised how many men wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor slut to fuck and suck . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the ideas that truly flushed my bank account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my representative, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell 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 guys for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty initially, but that had actually gone away when I realized I wasn't hurting anybody. The men liked me for a little bit, although a few of them enjoyed me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least return to their cities and cope 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 knew it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that method. Like a guy who loved me would not hurt me, you understand? I was in love with my father. That had actually changed too and I don't know if one thing related to the other specifically, but I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty men or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps. However a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me in the beginning, but then it didn't and I started liking it.
I could close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me really was my father. I might talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel special and developed and loved. And somewhere, in some way along that flight, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go home and see my genuine dad and nearly forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more before. But I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it. It was configured into me, maturing not as his child however as his wife. We 'd done everything however skilled our relationship, I believed, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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