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I even started taking the cash, mainly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of typical sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing since he might actually charge more, particularly if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of men I 'd had sex with. I didn't need 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 spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Choosing me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I believed was ludicrous, but you 'd marvel the number of people desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage slut to suck and fuck . These were all older people too, like my papa's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous since he was my supervisor, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the things I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to actually like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt truly guilty in the beginning, however that had actually disappeared when I realized I wasn't injuring anyone. The men enjoyed me for a bit, although some of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least return to their cities and live 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 due to the fact that I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a man who enjoyed me would not harm me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me really was my daddy. I could speak to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel grown-up and unique and loved. And somewhere, in some way along that ride, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go house and see my genuine father and almost forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more prior to. However I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it. It was programmed into me, maturing not as his child however as his partner. We 'd done whatever but consummate our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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