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I even began taking the money, mainly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of common sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing since he might actually charge more, specifically if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, however you 'd be surprised how many people wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor slut to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the pointers that actually flushed my checking account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. 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 clothes and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform 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 2. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never ever 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 truly guilty in the beginning, however that had gone away when I understood I wasn't hurting anyone. The men enjoyed me for a bit, although some of them enjoyed me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or a minimum of return to their cities and deal with them. However they loved 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, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman 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, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it.
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