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I even began taking the money, mostly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of common sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time though.
I just worked 3 or four nights a week anyhow, given that I needed to be house by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he might actually charge more, specifically if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it. I was always afraid somebody would see me getting into a weird vehicle, a different odd cars and truck every time, and question what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for almost two months currently, and I 'd lost track of how many guys I 'd had sex with. I didn't wish to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Way too much 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. Picking me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I believed was ridiculous, but you 'd be surprised how many guys wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage slut to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a great deal of cash to spend and it was the ideas that actually flushed my savings account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous since he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. However that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else since I needed to actually like these people for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men spending for me desired a lady, just a lady, and knowing that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyway, 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 tutelary saint. I 'd felt truly guilty at first, but that had actually disappeared when I understood I wasn't injuring anybody. The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least return to their cities and deal 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 actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a person who enjoyed me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I loved my daddy. That had actually altered too and I do not know if one thing had to do with the other precisely, but I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty people or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps. However a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me in the beginning, however then it didn't and I started liking it.
I might close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me really was my father. I could talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel special and developed and enjoyed. And someplace, somehow along that ride, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go home and see my real father and practically forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 before. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not assist it. It was configured into me, maturing not as his daughter however as his wife. We 'd done everything but skilled our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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