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I even began taking the cash, primarily because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the method 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 women do.
I had not been a little woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing because he could actually charge more, specifically if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity 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 absurd, but you 'd be stunned how lots of guys desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage whore to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my papa's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a great deal of cash to invest and it was the tips that really flushed my checking account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk 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 considering that I had to really like these people for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill 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 at first, but that had actually disappeared when I recognized I wasn't hurting anyone. The men loved me for a bit, although some of them enjoyed me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least return to their cities and live with them. But 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 understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a man who enjoyed me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, many of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I could talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel special and developed and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it.
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