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I even started taking the money, mostly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time though.
I just worked 3 or four nights a week anyway, since I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he might in fact charge more, particularly if the person I was opting for picked me up at school. That benefit ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it. I was always scared somebody would see me entering a odd car, a different weird automobile whenever, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for nearly two months already, and I 'd misplaced how many people I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash 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 two. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ridiculous, however you 'd be surprised the number of guys wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor slut to suck and fuck . These were all older people too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous since he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the things I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to in fact like these men for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real 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 really guilty at first, but that had actually disappeared when I recognized I wasn't injuring anyone. The men loved me for a bit, although a few of them liked me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of 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 since I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who loved me wouldn't hurt 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 wanted to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me actually was my father. I could talk with him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel developed and special and loved. And someplace, in some way along that ride, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go house and see my genuine dad and practically forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 before. But I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it. It was set into me, growing up not as his daughter but as his other half. We 'd done everything however skilled our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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