Chapter 1

Dean Madden was admittedly a dirty old man. Even though he was just 42, he had lost a couple of jobs because of his inability to keep his hands off the younger women he worked with. He had lost his first job as a cop early in his career, after letting several teens avoid traffic tickets and other charges, for sexual favors. After that, he lost his security guard job at the mall when he was caught banging a shoplifter, in exchange for letting her off the hook for her offense. Fortunately for Dean, while his working career had been less than successful, he was an exceptional stock market investor and he made himself a multi-millionaire, and he didn’t need to work anymore.

Now Dean was free to pursue his favorite activity, finding and fucking hot teenagers!

Dean had used several techniques in his never-ending quest to find newly legal teenagers to satisfy his appetite for hot young pussy. At first, he had simply picked up teens at the mall, or other hangouts. But this method was dangerous, as often the teens were not quite ready for sex with an older man and it often led to angry parents coming after him, or even catching him with their nubile daughters.

As a millionaire, it was easy to find and date divorced women with teenage daughters. And he could usually arrange to have some fun with the daughters. But such arrangements were always dangerous, as the teenager’s moms rarely were happy when they caught Dean playing with their daughters. The last mom had hit him pretty hard with a baseball bat after she caught him balls-deep fucking her hot blonde daughter before he escaped half-naked from her house.

He soon realized that the best girls to find were those who were tired of living with their struggling single parent, bored and unhappy at home, and/or eager to try some new adventure.

His latest ploy was to recruit girls posing as a “Talent Scout” who was on the lookout for teen models for popular magazines like Seventeen and Cosmopolitan. This routine required some advance planning, and some care to avoid being categorized as a stalker or pervert when he approached the sexy young teens who were his targets. He also had to make sure that the girls he identified as potential “models” were either on their own, lived with a parent who didn’t care where they were or when they came home or were emancipated in some other way. And above all, it helped if the girl he identified as one with model potential was not the sharpest pencil in the drawer, as the saying goes.

Dean had put together a pretty convincing setup, at least for the relatively unsophisticated girls he was working with. In addition to a bedroom at his house equipped like a small photography studio, complete with lighting and white screens, he had leased a new Mercedes that he was sure looked like Hollywood success to the young teens he met. He wore an outfit that consisted of jeans, a silk shirt, and a sports coat that made him look wealthy and sophisticated. He made sure to carry an expensive little Nikon camera, lots of cash, and a pocketful of business cards with his name and contact information. He had cards made up with his name, Dean Madden, above a small logo and a company named “The Ford Agency” which was meant to sound like the famous Tom Ford modeling agency, but, of course, was not related in the least.

Dean generally hung out at the mall, lounging on a bench near one of the favorite teen shops, like Forever 21, Abercrombie & Fitch, or Victoria’s Secret. His technique was relatively simple. He’d spot a cute girl, take out his Nikon, and start snapping a few shots. When the girl noticed, as they almost always did after they heard the loud clicks of his camera, he would smile and beckon them over to chat. Always smiling and polite, he would explain who he was, see if the youngster had an interest in being a model, and get some information from the girl as to her living arrangements and her relationship status.

As he soon discovered, EVERY girl was flattered to be thought of as a potential model, even those who objectively were either not pretty enough or didn’t have the right body type. And once they were flattered to think he saw them as models, he was amazed at how quickly they opened up about their home, their situation and often even more details than he had asked for. Once the hook was baited, Dean simply the girl his card, and told them to think over his offer, and then contact him to schedule a time to get some portfolio pictures taken. He usually also shot a quick pic with his phone and tagged the picture so he could keep track of those he had handed cards to. Dean also made sure he only hung out at the mall a couple of hours a week, so that he appeared to be new in town. And because you never know when you’ll meet the right girl, he carried his Nikon and business cards everywhere throughout his day.

Dean happened to be at the tire store in Springville that day, when he happened to see a cute young girl walking by, likely from the trailer park just next door to the store. She looked poor and a little scruffy, wearing just an old cotton t-shirt, a pair of tight, worn-out, cutoff jeans and a pair of dirty sneakers. Her bleached blond, straight, stringy blond hair hung limply just past her shoulders. But it was her firm, perky torpedo-shaped tits, and firm round bubble-shaped butt that caught Dean’s attention. She was tall, around 5’7”, so she conceivably could be a model- although with her tits, more likely a porn model. He immediately strolled out of the store, and approached the girl, his Nikon in hand.

“Hey,” he said with a smile, “Mind if I take a couple of quick shots of you, darlin’”

He started snapping pictures before she responded, capturing a couple of pics of her with her mouth gaping open in surprise, her protruding front teeth giving her that dumb innocent look. In fact she looked like a deer caught in his headlights: young, cute and dumb.

“Why you want pics of me,” the girl asked naively, as she stopped and looked at the well-dressed stranger.

She stood facing him and he noticed now that her perfectly shaped tits were topped with firm puffy nipples, outlined through the thin fabric of her t-shirt. She stood with one dirty sneaker propped against the other, cocking her hips into an unintentionally sexy pose. Her slightly undersized t-shirt ended several inches above her shorts, revealing a flat tummy, and a cheap, sparkling chrome navel ring with several fake stones dangling from little chains. Under the dangling jewels, her tight cutoffs stretched across her hips, bridging across her hips and showing tantalizing gaps on each side of where her flat and firm tummy disappeared into the shorts. Dean looked up and down the sexy teen, brazenly looking at every inch of her body before looking up at her eyes and responding.

Knowing he had her attention, Dean started slowly.

“Well, first, my name is Dean, and I’m a talent scout,” he said, extending his hand to the girl.

“I’m Sam, that’s short for Samantha,” she said with a big grin, that showed her buck teeth to their fullest. She reached out her hand and began to shake Dean’s hand.

But Dean moved in a step and pulled Sam’s hand up, and gave her a dramatic kiss on the top of her hand.

“A great pleasure to meet you, Samantha,” he said looking directly into her big green eyes. He smiled and as he lowered her hand, he gestured and pulled her hand gently, to have her turn around in front of him.

Sam complied, making a somewhat awkward pirouette, giving Dean a look at her sexy back, her long legs, and of course, the swirling blue ink of a tattooed tramp stamp across her lower back just above her little butt dimples.

“You know, Samantha, I look for pretty girls for a living, and when I find a truly exceptional girl, I can make a lot of money.” Dean explained. “And of course the model I find becomes a celebrity- a model making tens of thousands of dollars a day.”

“Wow,” said Sam, her mouth falling open, with the naïve look of innocent awe.

“I think you might have the look that my New York clients are looking for,” Dean said, again looking up and down the teen’s sexy body.

“Wow,” Sam said again, mouth agape, “you really think I could be a model. I ain’t even out of high school yet.” She pronounced “I” and “high” as though they were “ah” and “hah,” with a pronounced southern drawl.

“Well, tell me a little bit about yourself, Samantha, and then I’ll see about setting you up to get some portfolio pics taken, and I’ll talk to some of my New York clients,” Dean said with interest, “I think you’ve got real potential.”

“So,” Dean started, making some notes on a little pad. “You said you are still in high school. Where do you live, and who do you live with, and what’s your current occupation?”

“Yeah,” Sam began, “I’m a junior in high school, but I’m just barely passin. I live with my ma in the trailer park, and with her boyfriend Trevor, who’s a real jerk. And I guess I really don’t have a occupation, other than maybe babysittin’ for some kids in the park. I’d sure love to be a model ... that would be way cool.”

“I see,” Dean said, taking a few notes, “and why do you not get along with your ma’s boyfriend- Trevor, is it?”

“Well,” Sam explained, looking down and obviously a little embarrassed, “Trevor is kind of a pervert, and whenever ma ain’t around, he’s always trying to grab my butt, touch my boobies, or pull down my panties and shit. It’s really wrong, cuz he’s ma’s boyfriend, not mine. I don’t know why he always wants to touch me when he can touch ma all he wants. He’s just a jerk, ya know?”

Dean smiled. This girl was dumb as a box of rocks, just like she looked, with the kind of healthy, young body just built for sex. He was already imagining her with her clothes off, and his cock was stiffening.

“Well, here’s my advice to you, Samantha,” Dean said, in a serious tone. “Sometimes, it’s best not to tell your ma, and certainly not her boyfriend, about this kind of opportunity that I’m offering you. They get jealous, or they want to tell you what or how to do things or even take some of the money that will be coming to you. So you take my card here, and when you are ready to make the leap to fame and fortune, just give me a call, and I’ll get you set up for pics. I can even arrange for a place to stay to get you away from that Trevor guy, and a trip to a photographer in New York city. How does that sound?”

“Wow, man,” Sam said, her mouth again open, “that sounds pretty cool. I’m definitely gonna give you a call, Mr. Dean, man.”

“Great, Sam,” Dean said, I look forward to working with you, and with that, he moved in and gave Sam a quick embrace, putting his hands on her naked back, pressing himself against her firm tits, and giving her an air kiss on each cheek, before backing away.

Sam was impressed by the hug with the air kisses that she had seen on TV with real celebrities.

“Thanks, Mr. Dean,” Sam said, “You are the real deal, ain’t you?”

Sam was super excited from her meeting with Dean, and didn’t know who to tell. But she had to tell somebody, that’s for sure. She thought about her best friend, Kayla, but Kayla was gone for the weekend. She had left with her uncle to go to a concert in Buffalo, and Sam had wanted to go, but her ma wouldn’t give her the $50 she needed for the ticket and everything. Sam wasn’t too sure about Kayla’s uncle, he seemed sort of sketchy to Sam, but he had a car. He was willing to take Kayla and a friend, and Sam was going to go until she couldn’t afford it. Kayla went without her and she would be back tomorrow sometime. Sam couldn’t wait to hear what happened at the concert.

She really didn’t have any other close friends, and like Mr. Dean said, it wasn’t a good idea to tell her ma or anybody like that. Then Sam thought about what she would wear for her portfolio pics, and she knew she didn’t have much in the way of dress-up clothes, and she sure didn’t have much money. She headed for the thrift store, and it was then she thought about maybe talking to old Mr. Ray, who was kind of pervy but also kind of sweet. And Mr. Ray was always giving girls free clothes- they just had to show him their tits and maybe let him feel them up and stuff.

So she went directly from the tire store where she met Mr. Dean to the thrift store. It was already late, and Mr. Ray said they would be closing up for the night pretty soon, but that Sam could come in- cuz she was cute. That’s how old Mr. Ray was, always letting the teenage girls get away with stuff- cuz they were cute. So Sam went right up to Mr. Ray and asked if she could ask him some personal questions, confidentially. She told him he couldn’t tell nobody, because her whole future was on the line.

Ray said “Of course, darlin, let me close the front door, and we can talk for a while.” He loved that these teenage girls wanted to confide in him their most personal secrets.

So he came back to the girls area where Sam was looking at clothes, and asked her what was up.

“Well, Mr. Ray, believe it or not, I ran into a real, live talent scout,” Sam shared breathlessly, “who is working for a big New York agency, and I don’t think I should say his name, but he’s for real.”

“Wow, Sam,” Mr. Ray said, softly stroking her hair as he stood behind her in the racks area. “That sounds like a great opportunity for you, sweety.”

“Yeah, for sure,” Sam said with excitement. “But ya know, I ain’t got any sexy clothes to wear for a photo session, where this agent’s gonna get some pics for my portfolio thingy, ya know?”