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I even started taking the cash, mainly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little lady in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he might in fact charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with chosen 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 currently, and I 'd misplaced the number of men I 'd had sex with. I didn't want to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Method excessive 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. Selecting me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I believed was outrageous, but you 'd marvel how many men desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. 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. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or 2. I needed to act younger sometimes too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. None of the men paying for me desired a female, just a lady, and knowing that I actually was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty at first, however that had gone away when I understood I wasn't harming anybody. The men liked me for a bit, although some of them loved me for real 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 due to the fact that I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who liked me would not hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me truly was my dad. I might talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and liked. And somewhere, somehow along that ride, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go home and see my genuine daddy and almost forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 before. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it. It was programmed into me, maturing not as his child however as his partner. We 'd done everything but consummate our relationship, I believed, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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