Chapter 4

I was working just three days a week now, about three months after I'd started being an escort for my boyfriend, Deke. He wasn't happy about that, but I really didn't have much choice. I was only 15 and I had a life. I had to be home some of the time, even Deke could understand that. He mostly worried that my dad would get suspicious or something, which was entirely possible, but I worried more about my dad. Period. He needed me to take care of him and I'd spent far too many days after school in hotel rooms taking care of other men, other daddies.

We were still making a lot of money. At least I thought so. I worked Tuesdays and Wednesdays after school and then Saturdays from noon til ten at night, sometimes even later than that, because I could tell my dad I was sleeping over with Jen, or another friend, and he always believed me. Which was something else that bothered me. I'd gotten way too good at lying to my dad.

Friday nights I spent with Deke, as much as I could anyway. And other nights he would come around, like he'd done before, just to give me a quick fix of his big black cock. I still lusted for it, although my feelings for the man himself had cooled a little with time. I still liked him, of course, and he was still my boyfriend, but you know what I mean. Like how you get used to someone and you still like them okay, you still love him maybe, but you settle down and relax and realize the world isn't ending tomorrow. Or that's how I felt anyway, except for his cock. I'd had a lot of sex, a ton of sex with a lot of guys, and none of them even came close to Deke in the dick department.

"Yeah, bitch ... Push them titties together," Deke urged me breathlessly while we fucked in his car.

It must have been a little after six o'clock on a Sunday morning and he was just dropping me off at home. I'd escorted four guys on Saturday. One from noon to three and another from four to six in the afternoon. A guy from seven to nine after a real quick dinner, and the last guy for the rest of the night. He'd stayed with me until leaving reluctantly at five in the morning so he could catch his flight home. He had three daughters, that last guy, and he'd fucked my pussy hard while he told me all about them. I was beyond caring about that stuff though; I just liked the part where I got to call him Daddy. That was becoming more and more my own personal thing and the reason I kept working for Deke.

That and his huge cock.

"Mmmm ... That's so hot, Deke ... Fuck my tits ... Shoot on my face..." I breathed, moaning like I meant it, but I was pretty tired too, big cock or not, and I wasn't exactly in the mood after some 18 hours of sex with strangers.

"Heh..." Deke grinned down at me. "Don't be talkin' that ho shit with me, baby. I ain't no john." He knew I was just playing him, trying to get him off so I could go home and sleep.

I had my t-shirt bunched up over my breasts and I pushed them together around Deke's long, thick penis. He knelt on the passenger seat, straddling my body, and the seat was tilted way back so it was almost flat. It was easy like that, for me anyway, but I suppose it was still a little awkward for Deke. He wasn't complaining though. Tit fucking was his new thing apparently, and he liked doing it a lot. Mostly because he could shoot all over my pretty face. He'd always been into that.

I just lay there, sucking and kissing and licking the swollen dark head as it worked back and forth. His big black dick was hot and heavy, contrasting nicely against my soft white skin as it moved between my tits. I kept my fingers over it, trapping him there, and a little stream of precum ran down my body, between my boobs and over my soft tummy. My face was wet too, the head of Deke's cock smacking wetly against my chin and cheeks, my nose sometimes too, but mostly my lips and I tried to just keep him in my mouth, but that was hard the way he was moving now.

"Ah shit, here it cums, bitch ... Open your mouth ... Open your fuckin' mouth, ho!" Deke grabbed my by the hair, turning my face the way he wanted.

As he rubbed his cock quickly over and between my tits he, finally started cumming, his cock jerking beneath my fingers and shooting his thick warm load into my face. A lot of it got in my mouth, which I'd opened wide, but mostly it flew up into and over my eyes and nose, into my hair and on my cheeks. All over basically, and Deke was cumming a lot the way he always did. I kinda bathed in his sperm, and that's what he wanted. He'd bitch later about how I always got his car, his pimp ride, all nasty, but that was his own fault.

"Mmmm..." I smiled for him, licking my lips and making a big show out of swallowing Deke's cum. I'd enjoyed it, not as much as I would have enjoyed fucking that black beast, but it hadn't been bad anyway. I loved his cock, I just wished it wasn't sunrise after a long night of work.

"Damn, you're a fine ass fuck, baby ... supa-phreaky!" Deke was grinning, leaning and back and waiting for me to clean up his dick. I always cleaned him up before I'd clean myself.

"Don't talk like that," I told him. "I'm not in the mood for nigger, okay?"

"What's up with you?" Deke didn't get pissed or anything, but he narrowed his eyes a little. "Getting your period or something?"

"No," I told him unnecessarily; he knew exactly when my period was due and it wasn't for another week. "I'm just tired."

"It's cool," he shrugged. "I thought you liked it when I talk like that."

"Sometimes." I cleaned his cock gently with a packet of Kleenex from my purse. "But you don't have to do it all the time."

Deke might have been black on the outside, but he'd never spent a day in the hood, at least not if he didn't want to. He was almost as white as I was on the inside, meaning he'd grown up in suburban America, gone to good schools, all of that. Heck, he'd even been a boy scout, an Eagle Scout no less, and he was getting his degree in international finance.

I just didn't understand why he wanted to play the Compton nigger all the time. Why he wanted to be a pimp was easy to figure out though. I'd made him two grand in one night, after he'd given me my cut which had been over a thousand dollars with the tips I'd gotten. Tips added up to more than my fees sometimes and I'd started to worry about the money I was making. I had over twelve thousand dollars hidden in my big stuffed teddy bear, a white one almost as big as I was, and he was getting full.

"Hold on a sec, baby," Deke said, sitting behind the wheel now and I'd finished wiping my face, as best I could.

I was still messy, really messy, and my t-shirt was damp and smelling of semen. I was getting ready to go, to slip out of Deke's car and cut through a couple yards to sneak into my house before my dad woke up. That was always the worst part about being with Deke like this, because I was almost always a mess when we were done.

"What?" I looked at him.

"I'm looking for some more talent, you know anybody?" he asked with a thin smile, holding my arm and squeezing me gently.

"Talent?" I didn't really understand at first. "You mean a girl?"

"Yeah, I need to expand, baby. Shit, I got you booked solid for the next three weeks. I was thinking maybe you have a friend or something, you know, some of those catholic girls..." He grinned at me.

I just laughed and shook my head. "No way, Deke. Uh-uh ... I'm not getting my friends involved, no way. They don't know anything about sex anyway, believe me."

"I can teach 'em all they need to know," he chuckled and I felt a twinge of jealousy. "Just introduce me to a couple, you know. I'll throw a little party, get some of the brothers to come by, let your friends get their phreak on..." He started doing a little shimmy and slipped into his Snoop routine.

"No," I told him, and I meant it, staring straight into his eyes. "What about those other girls you have? I know you got some."

"They're just ho's baby, good for twenty dollar tricks behind a dumpster." He rubbed my arm. "The real green's with bitches like you, Sammie. Uppity sluts what love to fuck dat daddy dick."

I rolled my eyes then. The only time Deke called me by my name was when he really wanted something. "Well, I'm not gonna do it," I shrugged. "I gotta get home, my dad's gonna wake up pretty soon."

"Just think about it." Deke said, letting me go finally. "I'll cut you in on what they make, like partners and shit, right?"

"Yeah right," I snorted, like I believed that.

"Hey Daddy!" I was just coming out of the shower, wrapped up in a towel, when he walked out of his bedroom, scratching his head and stretching in his pajamas.

"Oh. Hi." He blinked at me. "I thought you were staying at your friend's house."

"Yeah," I nodded, rubbing my head with a towel, still drying off. "I'll make you some breakfast. Some waffles, 'kay?"

"Sure." He just nodded, forgetting I owed him an explanation, or at least letting it go.

I got dressed quickly, just throwing on a t-shirt and some old jeans over my panties. I didn't bother with a bra, brushed my hair and headed for the kitchen. I'd been tired before, and I still was a little, but I was home now. I'd had a nice hot shower and I was home. I liked it. I liked making breakfast for my dad. I know it sounds dumb, but just being away for the one night made me miss him and coming home, that was always nice for me.

"I got your coffee right there." I pointed at the little table all ready for him, standing at the kitchen counter and pouring batter into the waffle iron.

"Thanks Princess." He smiled at me and paused as he passed so he could give me a kiss on the cheek. His face felt like sandpaper; he never shaved on Sunday mornings, but I didn't mind.

"So what's your plans for today?" Daddy asked me once we'd gotten settled down to eat. I'd made too much waffle batter as usual, so there were too many waffles, but they tasted good anyway. I'd put real blueberries in them.

"Ummm ... I don't know," I shrugged, wanting to tell him I was gonna crash all day. "I was thinking I'd do a little cleaning upstairs, open the windows and air the bedrooms out. We need to wash the screens too, one of these days."

"Mmmm..." My dad made a face and I smiled at him. "Didn't we just do that?"

"Yeah, last spring." I rolled my eyes. "Don't be lazy, come on."

"You're just like your mom." He shook his head.

"Yeah, well..." I shrugged, taking a bite of my waffle. He said that sometimes, more and more it seemed like, and I never knew how to respond.

"Oh! A friend of mine, a guy I went to college with, he's in town. I invited him over tonight." Dad gave me a sheepish smile. "I thought maybe he'd like a home cooked meal..."

"That's cool," I shrugged. "What are you gonna cook?"

I was teasing him, of course, and it was pretty funny. My dad wasn't much use in the kitchen. I didn't mind at all getting the news that we were having a dinner guest, Dad needed to have his friends over more often, and I kept telling him that. But I think he worried about making more work for me, or something, and that was just ridiculous.

"You don't mind?" he asked.

"No, why would I mind?" I'd finished eating and I stood up, moving around behind him so I could give him a hug. "I like doing stuff for you, Daddy."

I gave him a kiss on the cheek and I felt that weird deja vu feeling, like I'd done this before. And I had obviously, but the feeling was more like I'd done more than just this before, like I'd reached down, along his chest, down his stomach. Reaching to find my dad's hard cock and squeezing it, feeling it hot and hard in my hands while he kissed me, pushing his tongue in my mouth, and...

I stepped back, blushing and blinking my eyes and feeling hot all over. He couldn't see me, and that was good. I'd never felt that, at least not so suddenly, not so distinctly. Yeah, I wanted my dad, I understood that about myself, but when I was home I wanted to be ... his wife, not his lover. There was a difference, like a big wall that kept the bad feelings, the sexy feelings outside our home. Inside we were safe, I didn't want him that way ... Did I? I bit my lip, knowing that the walls were breaking down finally. I really wanted to kiss my dad right then, and not on the cheek.

"I'm gonna lie down a little bit, okay?" I told him, not waiting for an answer, but trying to walk out of the kitchen like I was normal.

"Sure, Sam." Daddy had picked up his morning paper. "I'll clean up down here."

"Okay," I said mostly to myself, since I was alone in the kitchen. "This is lookin' good."

I'd slept until noon and then cleaned a little, because the bedrooms and especially the bathroom needed it. Later I sent dad to the grocery store with a list, and finally cooked a pretty nice baked ham, with pineapples and raisins in the honey glaze. Some sweet potatoes and all the easy stuff that comes in jars mostly, like apple sauce, you know. It was a nice dinner, sort of almost fancy, but still casual enough. I liked cooking a lot, not for myself, but for my dad, you know. I was getting pretty good at it too.

Daddy's friend was coming over, his old college buddy. Dad had told me a little bit about him, but they hadn't seen each other in a couple years. They were in the same business though, aeronautical engineering, so they'd stayed in touch with emails and what-not. They were fraternity brothers too, which was a big deal, I guess. At least my dad seemed to think so, but I'd never understood that whole college thing at all, and I guess I wouldn't until I got there and saw it for myself. All I really knew was that the guy's name was Phil, he was divorced with kids, and he'd once been one of my dad's best friends, but now they lived on opposite coasts.

I just hoped he liked ham.

"He isn't Jewish is he?" I yelled, suddenly feeling a little panic attack.

"What?" My dad was upstairs getting dressed. He'd spent the day outside, cleaning up around the rose bushes. That was usually my job, since they were sorta my roses, but Dad needed some fresh air so I'd put him to work.

"Your friend ... He isn't Jewish or anything, is he?" I didn't have to say it so loud the second time because my dad was coming down the stairs, dressed in slacks and a grey polo. He looked great, I thought, just casual like that, and I wished his friend was a woman. I'd pretty much shoved my earlier thoughts away, thank God, and I was back to normal, just worrying about him.

"Ah, no," he grinned. "Not unless Phil converted."

"Good," I giggled. Not that I have anything against anyone's religion, except some of those weird cult guys in California maybe, but it was a nice ham in my oven and my only backup was frozen waffles.