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I even started taking the money, primarily because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of typical 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 ladies do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing due to the fact that he might really charge more, particularly if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically two months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of guys I 'd had sex with. I didn't wish to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal 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 additional 200, which I believed was ludicrous, but you 'd marvel how many men wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor slut to fuck and draw . These were all older men too, like my father's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a great deal of money to spend and it was the pointers that truly flushed my checking account. Deke offered 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 transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap 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 in fact like these people for an hour or two. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; however 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 comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt really guilty in the beginning, however that had actually disappeared when I understood I wasn't injuring anyone. The men liked me for a bit, although a few of them enjoyed me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and cope 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 lonesome since I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that way. Like a person 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 desired to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and picture the guy who was making love to me really was my daddy. I could talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it.
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