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I even started taking the cash, primarily 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 research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing since he could in fact charge more, particularly if the guy 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.
I 'd been doing it for almost two months already, and I 'd misplaced the number of guys I 'd had sex with. I didn't want to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Method excessive for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was ridiculous, but you 'd be surprised the number of guys wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated that was generous since he was my supervisor, my representative, my security person, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to actually 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 patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty initially, however that had disappeared when I recognized I wasn't harming anyone. The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although a few of them liked me for real and asked me if I 'd marry 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 actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that method. Like a guy who loved me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me really was my dad. I could talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel grown-up and unique and liked. And somewhere, in some way along that flight, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go house and see my real dad and almost forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two prior to. However I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his child but as his partner. We 'd done everything however consummate our relationship, I thought, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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