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I even started taking the money, primarily because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of typical 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 girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing due to the fact that he might actually charge more, particularly if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was absurd, however you 'd be surprised how numerous guys desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage whore to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my papa's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated that was generous since he was my supervisor, my representative, my security guy, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the things I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to really like these people for an hour or two. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I think 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 patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty in the beginning, however that had gone away when I realized I wasn't hurting anyone. The men loved me for a bit, although some of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of come back 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 lonely because I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that way. Like a person who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, most 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 woman next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and think of the male 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 unique and grown-up and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not assist it.
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