Date: Thu, 31 Dec 2015 22:14:49 +0300
From: Jack Pinkerton <jack.b.pink@yandex.com>
Subject: How Hunter Got Into Show Business, Chapter 3

How Hunter Got Into Show Business Chapter 03, Mb
By Jack B Pink (jack.b.pink@yandex.com)
http://www.asstr.org/~JackBPink/
Codes: Mb(9), oral, anal (minor), rim (minor), interracial

Please be aware that this story describes, in erotic detail, sexual
interactions between males and between adults and minors (both over and
under 14). The author vehemently discourages and condemns any sort of
adult-child abuse including sexual abuse - even if all parties involved are
"consenting" at the time. Seriously. It's not worth destroying a child's
life to get off. Just read these harmless stories.

This story is meant solely for entertainment purposes, not
instruction. Please do yourself a favor and DON'T harm or abuse any real
children.

The characters and events depicted in this story are completely
fabrications and in no way relate to real people or real events. Any
appearance of similarity to real persons or events is completely
coincidental.

***I thrive on feedback. If you enjoy this or any of my other stories, I'd
love to hear from you. If I made you cum, let me know (consider it payment
;) ).***

--

LeBoyd wasn't really annoyed when Zachy, the little eight year old slut
took the new kid. He was too busy eying the Bosses: Brendan Bailey,
legendary film producer; Myles Milson, Brendan's business partner; and
Leroy Lovecoke, an Oscar winning writer and director. They were also with a
man LeBoyd knew only by reputation. Augustus Juiles was a well-known child
talent agent. He had made many stars famous from Andy Santana to Laurina
Che. But for as many true break-out child stars he produced, there were
dozens who whored themselves in this business for naught. Not that Juiles
cared. He got paid either way: star-whore or whore-whore. If he'd signed
LeBoyd, LeBoyd would be one of his many failures. LeBoyd had gotten nothing
but tiny bit parts for all his services.

But LeBoyd was clever. He knew, after a few years of trying and a few years
of seeing true talent make it, that he wasn't destined for stardom. So he
made a deal with Bailey. He'd show up at these parties, entertain the man's
perverted guests, and Bailey would teach him the inner workings of show
business.

Noticing the room's occupants getting sparse, LeBoyd made his way off the
dance floor for another drink, but Bailey caught his eye and motioned him
over.

***

"We are really impressed with your work, Augustus." Mr. Lovecoke was
saying.

"Yes, that new boy, what's his name?" Bailey asked as an adorable black
preteen sauntered up and slipped his arm around the producer.

"Hunter," I replied as I eyed the little black boy. His slender, four foot
two inches [1.25 m] frame was shining with sweat, his head shaved smooth
and gleamed. His smile was easy as his eyes met mine. His scent was
intoxicating, still boyish with no hint of manly musk, and I felt myself
grow.

"Yes, Hunter. Cock Hunter," we all laughed at the lame joke. Lovecoke makes
everything funny. "I really like him."

"Good, his preliminary audition went well. I had him do 'Chester's Mansion'
and he plays the abuse victim well." I bragged truthfully, "One of the
best, and he certainly has the heart breaker look going for him."

"That he does. We'll see how eager he is to please tonight, but I do think
you deserve a little bonus." Bailey looked at the little black boy and
instructed, "LeBoyd, stay with Mr. Juiles tonight."

LeBoyd gave me that winning smile and reached out his hand. I took it,
feeling his softness, moist with his perspiration. He led me as I eyed his
toned back through his white mesh shirt and admired his rear, pushing
tightly against the silky soft white shorts.

LeBoyd took me down the guest wing, which was full of half a dozen suites
designed for entertaining Bailey's guests. As we we entered the hallway,
distinctive slurping, slapping, moaning, and groaning could be heard coming
from every room. None of the rooms had doors, no secrets among the
elite. LeBoyd led me past room after room, and I couldn't help peek in on
the other guests.

The first room had a couple of Latino twins servicing a younger Asian man
who I didn't recognize. Probably a Chinese filmmaker, they were becoming
more and more important. One of the twins was slurping on the man's prick,
while his brother's face was deep in the man's ass.

In the next room, Rafael Le'Strata, a fat French director who'd been around
for ages, was thrusting into what looked like the mattress of the large
bed. But my quick voyeur scan was enough to see a little head peeking up,
gasping for breath. There was a little boy wedged between the fat man and
the mattress, clearly struggling while being sodomized by the old queen.

The third room was quite the party, from the look of things. Three boys
were servicing five men. One boy was riding a big black cock as he was
sucking the dangling balls of another man while one of his friends was
simultaneously choking on an adult dick and fisting the anus that went with
it. The third boy was clearly the luckiest. He was sitting on a man's face
while the fifth man was fellating him. He was in heaven.

LeBoyd pulled me into the next room, annempty one, and walked over to the
bed. His butt tightened and relaxed, holding my eyes with ease. When he got
to the plush king-sized bed, he turned around and gasped as I surprised him
by grabbing his globes and lifting him into my arms. Before I knew it,
without thinking, my lips were pushing against his, my tongue was pushing
through his mouth. He recovered from the surprise quickly, and massaged my
tongue with his, moaning softly. He tasted like chocolate and rum. My hands
were still engulfing his little bubbles, kneading and squeezing as if they
had minds of their own.

LeBoyd's body was pressed firmly against mine. As my hands toyed and our
tongues sparred, I felt his little boyhood poking firmly in my core. I
broke the kiss, not reluctantly, but eager to continue. I looked between
us, his boy-erection pushing against the thin fabric of his
shorts. Removing a hand from his delightful rear, I squeezed his
prepubescent penis, feeling his two inch hardness from above his little
grapes to the tip of his helmet. He moaned in heat the way only a boy
could.

I threw the fifty-five pound [25 kg] thing to the bed and quickly stripped
my clothes off before his wide eager eyes. LeBoyd eyed me up and down,
measuring my attractiveness. He saw my five foot eight [1.75 m] lean frame,
peppered with a smattering of curly hair. He saw my lean, but defined
muscles slide and flex under my skin. He saw my hardened prick, 6.5 inches
[16.5 cm] in length, engorged to its full five inch [12.5 cm] circumference
pointing down at him drooling in lust.

As I climbed on the bed over the ten-year-old, he reached expertly for my
penis. I lightly slapped his hand away and dove on the boy, wresting
him. He shrieked, part in surprise and part in humor as my fingers scurried
up his sides inside his mesh shirt. He squealed in pleasure-pain as I
twisted his nipples, aroused and firm. He struggled as I handled him,
spinning him around to pull off the shirt and yank down his tight shorts,
freeing his chocolaty smoothness to the evening air.

I held him down, but leaned up to inspect his body. His dark skin was
perfectly smooth and tight against his immature, but well defined
muscles. I admired his shapely biceps, his flat stomach, his budding, but
still small pecs. His legs were slender, but not bony. LeBoyd was still all
boy, not hint of puberty had marred his childness. His little-boy penis,
while aroused, was a slender two inches [5 cm], a purple head peeked out of
the folds of his foreskin. He was a consistent ebony, except for his palms,
the bottoms of his feet, and his groin which were all lighter. He spent a
lot of time in a Speedo in the sun, darkening most of him, but leaving his
best parts protected. The contrast from his tan made his bits glow, drawing
my focus.

With a growl, I fell back onto the boy, eliciting an "oof" as he gasped
from my weight. I spun us around so he was on top, straddling my stomach. I
could feel his soft, hairless sac rub against me as my dick slipped
naturally between his butt cheeks. I ached for his hole, but I had all
night for that, and I wanted some service first. I wanted him to taste me
like a good little boy should. Using my hands to guide him, I spun him
around so we were in an uneven sixty-nine position, his head at my leaking
groin, his hips on my chest.

Ever experienced LeBoyd knew instinctively what was expected. At first, I
felt the softness of his tiny tongue lap at my urethral opening, tasting
and then cleaning my pre. Then his tongue wedged itself between my glands
and my foreskin, capturing the slick slime that wet it. I moaned in
frustration as the expert tongue teased me.

Looking down at the child who was worshiping my sex, I greeted the full
moon on my chest. LeBoyd's legs were spread wide across my chest, his balls
mashed between us. His lighter butt, hills before me spread wide. The tight
little anus, only slightly darker than the surrounding skin, lay still and
tight. I wondered, briefly, if this little hole had ever been used, but of
course it had. No anus belonging to a tongue so expert as his was
virgin. He was just naturally tight. But how tight? I had to know.

I wet my finger in my mouth, just the one. If LeBoyd's ten-year-old anus
was as tight as it looked, I wanted to stretch it out with something other
than my fingers. So I used just my index finger, and entered his hole,
smooth and tight. My invasion surprised the boy, and he lurched forward,
taking an inch and a half of myself inside his mouth unintentionally. He
also clenched tight. My finger, already straining to push farther in, his
tightness severe, felt his sphincter twitch tighter. This convulsion passed
through my finger, up my arm, and down my body. My prick was where the
reaction ended, throbbing in joy and spraying a small jet of my precum to
the back of his mouth. I wasn't sure if his moans were from my taste or my
finger, but they were unmistakably in pleasure.

He clearly was planning on teasing me more and started to pull off my
hardness, but it was too late and I was too far gone to let him keep
control. I pushed my free hand against his smooth skull, forcing his lips
to my balls, like and expert, he didn't gag, but I could feel his throat
muscles constricting with strain against my penis. With effort, I pushed my
finger fully into his body as suction started on my cock. With my finger, I
felt around for his little bump, so small and hard to find in boys. It
didn't take long before I was thumping his immature little prostate with my
finger. His hips started to grind against me as my gifted pleasure took
hold.

All the while, LeBoyd's dark lips held tight against my shaft, his tongue
sucking firmly, his throat clenching around my mushroom tip. He certainly
couldn't breath, but I was close, so I didn't stop him until the end. When
I felt me seed work through my groin, I quickly pushed him off of me and
onto his back. I leaped up and crouched over him, grabbing both of his
little hands. I placed one on my penis and his little hand started stroking
me professionally, eager to bring me to joy. His fingers only wrapped
halfway around me, but it was enough. I mashed the fingers of his other
hand into a wedge and violently shoved it up my own ass, enjoying the
slightly painful stretching of my sphincter. Not that I needed it, but
there is something about having a preteen fisting me that always gets me
off.

With a mighty yell, I shot my ejaculate onto the boy below me. My seed
roped across his face, his neck, his chest as my sphincter crushed
violently against his hand. My shots quickly tuned into thick drips as my
happy orgasm ended.

I looked down at my little black boy. He was looking up at me, blinking
with those big brown eyes, strips of white streaked up his face like
warpaint. His bright white smile matched the pearly pool on his tongue. My
softening cock was between his face and mine. I wiped the remainder of my
jizz on his button nose, adding a white pimple to his black and white
face. He smiled at me. A smile that said "What about me?"

--

Thanks for reading. I can be contacted at jack.b.pink@yandex.com.

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