Date: Tue, 04 Oct 2011 16:33:11 -0700
From: applesandpears@hushmail.com
Subject: A Little Revolution Part 12

I love my readers, and to communicate with me, let me know what you like,
what you want to see, and make any other comments or requests, to Adrian
at:

applesandpears@hushmail.com

Editor's Note: Naturally, this is all fiction, don't take it seriously,
don't fuck your kids, etc., or anyone else`s. We don't live in this
world. If you have a hard time telling fantasy from reality, seek
professional help.




Nelson Berriera had the ripped, smooth, and muscled body of a porn
star. That's because he was one. At 18, he had been working in front of the
camera since he was the same age as the ten-year-old whose rubbery round
black ass he was splitting with his thick uncut cock. As he energetically
fucked the kid he sweated profusely in the tropical heat, the sweat running
off his nose, chin and hard, pumped up chest and big pyramid-shaped
nipples, splashing down on the boy's glistening back.

Nelson was always horny, but that morning he'd woken with a raging bone and
churning balls, thinking of this particular lean, tight black body. The
street kid's name was Rodrigo, and Nelson had rolled over in bed and
reached for his machine, sending Rodrigo a text message on the phone Nelson
had bought for him. Since mostly unsupervised kids like Rodrigo often
stayed up late and slept in, he wasn't sure he'd get a response, but Nelson
had slept in to after ten on that Sunday morning and Rodrigo had been on
the verge of getting up anyway. There the boy was at the back door, fifteen
minutes later, still rubbing the sleep from his dark eyes. Nelson had a bit
of the crush on the boy; while most of his clients, being Europeans,
Asians, and Americans, preferred him to work with lighter-skinned, bronze
and cafe-au-lait kids, Nelson preferred darker boys with more African
blood. He himself was a classic of what the rest of the world thought of as
Brazilian; a finely defined well built young man with straight black hair,
cropped close, and creamy light brown skin that glistened like bronze when
oiled or wet. In other words, he was a traditional mix of Portuguese and
indigenous, with just a touch of African back somewhere improving his
muscle tone, giving him broad, strong facial features, a killer round ass,
and a fat dangle between his thighs.

Rodrigo, on the other hand, bore his African blood more obviously, not
uncommon up in the north. Bahia had been a great slave port, and most of
its population still carried the traces of those ancestors. Nelson
preferred the black kids with their flawless hard bodies, every muscle
showing, their cute round faces, their pale palms and feet, their shiny
white teeth. Like most kids of his poor class in Salvador in the summer,
Rodrigo rarely wore anything more then some flimsy shorts and cheap
flip-flops. Nelson had answered the back door onto the garden through which
Rodrigo had come. The teenager was buck naked and hard; he reached out and
pulled the giggling boy inside by the shoulder. He ran a head over the
boy's close-cropped nappy hair, picked Rodrigo up with a brotherly hug,
threw him over his shoulder with one muscled arm, and stripped him of his
silky basketball shorts, revealing the tight bright teal nylon speedo the
boy wore as underwear. Nelson had always been turned on by speedos, so he
didn't bother to remove these, and they were now stretched tight across
Rodrigo's thighs as he fucked the boy's perfect full round ass. Sex was
always business for Nelson, and the recorders attached to the half-dozen
unhidden cameras placed around the bedroom were running; there was a
certain American, a wealthy businessman from the South, who would buy
anything Nelson did with the black street boys, the darker the better. He'd
be sending him an email with a link as soon as he had the recording of this
session downloaded and briefly edited. But business aside, Nelson was very
fond of Rodrigo and was truly enjoying the fuck.

He'd held off nutting with the perfect control of a male who came a half
dozen times a day. He held the boy around his slim, taut waist, the
fingertips of his large hands meeting up and touching. Then he let go and
grabbed the boy by his large wing-nut ears, tugging on them, which he knew
Rodrigo liked. The kid arched his back and his hips went into overdrive,
flexing in and out, slamming his spherical ass up and down on Nelson's long
brown dick with little micro-thrusts.

Nelson reached around to his own muscular ass, it's perfect triangular tan
line showing off its round firmness to maximum effect, and jammed the butt
plug that had been sliding loose back up between his cheeks. Then he laid
into the street boy and started some athletic fucking, resting his body
weight on his palms against the white stuccoed wall and slamming the boy
forward with his hips. Little Rodrigo had to brace his own hands against
the wall, elbows locked, to prevent Nelson from pushing him head first into
the wall, but the kid was used to rough fucking and had an excellent sense
of balance. Finally Nelson bear-hugged him across his hard little
popped-out chest and rolled over onto the other side of the bed onto his
ass, balancing Rodrigo's weight almost entirely on his cock. The muscular
teen grabbed the boy, slammed him up and down half a dozen times, and then
pulled his cock out, gliding it up between Rodrigo's thighs, where it was
held in by the stretched nylon of the teal speedo he still wore just below
his crotch. Rodrigo squeezed his thighs shut, trapping the cock in one more
tight sensation of skin. Nelson's ass came off the bed, lifting them both,
and the big fat uncircumcised head started shooting thick cream all up
Rodrigo's stomach, pumping several loads right over the boy's own
cock. Rodrigo knew right what to do, and grabbing his slim stiffy, now
creamed with white cum, he jerked off furiously before having his own dry
cum, well exaggerated for the cameras with the acting skills he'd picked up
from watching porn. Not that the dry cums didn't curl his toes and feel
great!

Nelson let out a loud sigh and lifted the little boy off his lap. He wasn't
one for post-cum cuddling. He pulled Rodrigo's little teal speedo back up
over the boy's cum-drenched junk, which immediately grew damp spots through
the thin material. Nelson tossed the boy his basketball shorts which
Rodrigo wiggled into with the flexibility of an eel. He knew that now that
his balls were drained, the older boy wouldn't want to sit around
conversing. As he slipped on his cheap flip flops, Nelson fished a few
bills out of his dresser. He grabbed Rodrigo by the drawstrings of his
shorts and pulled him up next to him, sticking his tongue into the smiling
boy's mouth and shoving the money into his cum-streaked waistband. Rodrigo
made a face as the damp bills crammed his deflating cock, but he knew that
Nelson loved this kind of playful hazing and was well ready to indulge
it. The older boy opened the back door, patted the black kid on his round
ass, gave him one lass kiss and then a shove out into the garden. Rodrigo's
belly was still wet with semen, so he wiped it up with the palm of his hand
and licked it down as he made his way through the garden gate and back onto
the street. Halfway down the block he ran into two neighborhood boys around
his age. They took one look at him and pantomimed their middle fingers
through the ring of their index and thumb, letting him know they knew where
he'd been. Not that they had anything to say; like a number of lads in the
area they were also fuck boys of Nelsons, and Rodrigo knew them from one of
the orgies Nelson had arranged for visiting Japanese man.

Nelson swaggered back down the hallway, absentmindedly running his hand the
length of his deflating still-wet meat. He nonchalantly opened the door to
his mother's bedroom. She had the air conditioning unit cranked up and the
cold air, which Nelson didn't really like during sex (he loved to sweat)
made his nipples instantly pop out.

His mom had had him when she was 14, so she was only 32 and still had a
curvy but tight Brazilian woman's body. She was laying on her back, her ass
right on the edge of the extra high mattress that she liked, with her legs
spread, her hair-free pussy stretched out, and the two fifteen-year-old
neighbor boys she'd been regularly fucking on Sunday mornings hard at
work. One of the boys, whose names Nelson could never keep straight (both
of them insisted on never doing anything "gay" so Nelson had never fucked
them) was hard at work pounding his erection into Nelson's mom's cunt while
the other patiently awaited his turn, stroking his not inconsiderable
member in anticipation of the sloppy seconds coming his way.

Nelson's mom had her head thrown back and was sucking his little brother
Felipe, who was knelling over her head. The eight-year-old's tiny hard
prick was moving in and out of her lips. The boy was on his hands and
knees, and above him against the backboard of the bed Nelson's 12-year-old
sister Mirabella was spread-legged with her eyes closed, her finger playing
her clit as Felipe slid a large fuchsia-colored rubber cock in and out of
her.  With the noise from the doorway Felipe jumped up onto his feet,
abandoning both his sister's cunt and him mum's mouth and ran and leapt off
the edge of the bed into his older brother's arms. He adored Nelson, and
they always hugged and kissed when they first saw each other in the
morning. Mirabella opened her eyes and looked pissed at her little
brother's typical spazzy abandonment of her pussy, then seeing her beloved
big brother she smiled and grabbed the dildo with her free hand and went
back to work on herself. Nelson knew this was a live session and that the
show needed to go on for the client currently watching over the satellite
from Toronto, who paid them to perform this family orgy every Sunday
morning while his wife was at church. His mom looked up at him with a
knowing smirk.

"Almost done honey. Make yourself some crepes, the batter is in the
fridge".

Nelson deposited his little bro back onto the bed, where the young boy,
raised from earliest memory to be a sexual performer, got right back into
place. Nelson fist bumped to two teenagers who were there to assault his
mom's pussy and walked back out, shutting the door behind him to not waste
the cool air, and continued naked down to the kitchen where he got the
crepe batter out of the shiny new fridge he'd just bought his mother. While
he was taking off the plastic, his smartphone, left on the kitchen table,
buzzed. It was a mail from the boss.

Nelson had been started on sex a decade before at the same age his little
brother was now, after a local man who knew his mother had seduced and
fucked him with her permission. She was desperate, on her own with two kids
and needing money, and had agreed to it but insisted on being in the room
the whole time to keep an eye on things. She'd found the sight of her
little boy sucking cock overwhelming, and had soon started joining in the
action. He'd been passed around amongst other local kid fuckers, breaking
through as a underground star when one of his regulars started filming some
of the sessions and uploading them to public newsgroups. Shortly afterwards
this budding filmmaker had been approached online with a clear message in
the form of an anonymous email; if he wanted to avoid a trail leading the
police to his door, he would connect the young boy and mother in his videos
with a man who was coming to Salvador. He did what he was told, and a week
later Nelson had met the man he still thought of as the boss, the man who
called himself Phillipe, a handsome, pale and quiet European in his early
fifties who spoke excellent Portuguese and never revealed too much about
himself. Over time he'd come to realize that Phillipe was just a middle
manager, but he was his only direct contact Nelson was to have with the
organization.

Meeting Phillipe had changed his life. His mother had gotten enough money
to buy this nice house in a modest neighborhood near the beach, and the
means to support herself and her son and young daughter. Phillipe himself
had paid for her to get her teeth straightened and some minor plastic
surgery. He'd also fucked her until she was pregnant with little Felipe,
named after his father, which explained why the boy was even
lighter-skinned then Nelson, and especially then Mirabella, whose father
had been black. Phillipe had instructed Nelson in using the computer and
video equipment that filled the house. The boy had become really good at
recruiting attractive talent from the many street kids and hustlers of
Salvador, and took great pride in his performance abilities and popularity
with the customers. Most of all, he'd been given a passport and had the
chance to travel; at 11, he'd appeared, dressed as an alter-boy, as the
centerpiece at a sex party for a group of Catholic priests in Miami, and
he'd been on seven total trips out of Brazil, including to London, Los
Angeles, and Hong Kong, places most ghetto kids from the wrong side of a
rough town in Bahia would never see. He'd even, at 14, met one of his
favorite football stars in Brazil, if you consider meeting someone getting
fucked in the ass without exchanging a word. Every time his phone buzzed it
seemed like more good news.

It was. It was a request from Phillipe that he go Paris in a few weeks to
fuck a client's son on his 12th birthday. He'd never been to Paris. The job
would pay all his expenses and and additional two thousand euro, enough for
several months of spending money in Salvador, though Nelson already knew
that he would blow the money on clothes while he was over there. He was
obsessed with fashion and liked looking as good when he was dressed as when
he wasn't. He wondered if he'd have time to go out and experience the city
away from the client. He hoped so.

Nelson knew how lucky he was. If the internet hadn't come along, he'd have
been stuck as a cheap street hustler in a poor Brazilian city, taking
whatever he could get giving blow jobs to skeezy old men and letting them
mount his tight brown ass with their hairy little cocks. Instead, he made a
good living and was able to throw steady, safe work to some of those very
street hustlers whose clutches he had narrowly escaped. He paid them well
and they enjoyed spending time with a hot guy like him. Sometimes they even
got to fuck girls at his house, including Nelson's mom and sis, both
considered smoking hot in the neighborhood. Phillipe had picked him for his
good looks and natural talent, but he'd worked hard to please Phillipe and
the clients both. He loved pleasing people, took naturally to it, and
despite the massive ego his athletic performance and high sexual demand had
given him at a young age, still thought of himself as that sweet, lucky,
almost shy boy he'd always been at heart.

He couldn't wait to get on the plane and go. The trip would be great, and
certainly one of the high points would be fucking the cute little blond kid
whose picture had been attached to the mail, the birthday boy. His name was
Rene.