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I even began taking the cash, mostly because I was much too useful 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 research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little women do.
I had not been a little lady in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing because he might actually charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months already, and I 'd misplaced how many guys I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash 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 two. Choosing me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd marvel the number of guys desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage slut to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the things I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to actually like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill 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 actually guilty at first, however that had gone away when I recognized I wasn't hurting anyone. The men loved me for a bit, although some of them liked me genuine 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 since I knew it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that method. Like a person who enjoyed me wouldn't hurt me, you know? 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 different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and picture the male who was making love to me actually was my dad. I could talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it.
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