Date: Tue, 20 Apr 2004 03:20:27 +0200
From: Dylan K <dkboy58@hotmail.com>
Subject: Australian Visitor (part1) (adult youth)

*** This story is a love story with some sad memories of my real life
changed into the form of the characters depicted in the story. If the
characters seem to have any similarity to anybody `real' it is entirely
coincidental as the characters have no similarity to the `real' people they
were written about.

This story contains some sexual interactions between boys, men, and teens.
If this material offends you or is illegal in your area please do not read
on.

I do not encourage any of the behaviour mentioned throughout the story I am
merely writing of experiences from myself and others with some expansion to
make it slightly interesting.
Please remember people who write murder stories are not always murderers.
The same applies with this boylove story.

Please email me with your thoughts on the story. However deconstructive
criticism will be sent straight to the Spam Box. Thank you. ***

Dkboy58@hotmail.com

Introduction

Hi my name is Alecco. I live in a small village in the English countryside,
about an hours drive from London. At the moment I am one of those teens that
seems to go through life slowly, and 90 percent asleep. But still I have
stayed away from drugs and alcohol (well apart from the occasional drink now
and again). So at the grand old wrinkly age of 15 I will begin to tell you
my stories of how I had such a strange childhood. Who knows maybe I will
finish them before my cradle-to-grave scenario ends. The stories I tell may,
and in fact probably will, contain sexual encounters between boys and older
boys who never really seem to grow up. In each story I will endeavour to
give not only the way I saw the event, but also the view of others within as
best I can although I cannot give this in the first story as I didn't get to
ask his feelings until it was to late . Enjoy! And any comments please feel
free to email me. And please remember ladies and gentlemen to smile :oD

Chapter One -- My special daddy

In 1988 a cute little boy was born in Cairns, Australia. That, meine Damen
und Herren, was me, Alecco. I was raised for a few years in that same place
often playing in the ocean and I was so happy. It was the best place to grow
up. We lived on a ranch that ran right down to the beach. The ranch had some
wild horses that came and went as they pleased, and we had our own horses
within our stables as did some of the nearby folk. The house was nice and
fairly large. It had a large attic which slowly I persuaded my parents to
make my playroom, so my dad being my hero, decked out the attic and made it
perfectly safe for a growing kid. I spent so much time up there that my dad
eventually moved my bed and clothes up there and often it was our special
little den. Although being a child of four others, I was by far my dad's
favourite. My two older twin brothers, Alex and Taylor (6 years older than
myself) had there own little building next to the house that I'm sure one
day would have been used for some important farming task. Yet instead when
the boys turned into double digits it was converted into a `cool' hang-out
bedroom. My little sisters Allie and Tammy were only babies at the time of
my moving to the loft (when I was at the very important age of five) so they
stayed in the house close to mom and dad's room. The attic was, to me
anyway, the ultimate dream bedroom and if it was possible to love him
anymore than I already did, then I would have loved daddy more for making it
absolutely perfect for me. All of the furniture inside had been hand-crafted
by my dad's big strong talented hands and I would always insist that my
friends, and brothers when they occasionally paid me a visit, took the
utmost care not to damage anything that my daddy had made.

During my fifth year my parents enrolled me at the local school, and the
week before my first day, daddy and I worked hard in his workshop at
building me a desk. It was a lot of work and we would often start early in
the morning and work right through until lunch when we would run into the
house and beg for some OJ and sandwiches. One day it was extremely hot and
by lunch time we were sweltering, so instead of going for lunch, daddy
picked me up and threw me onto his shoulders and ran all the way across the
ranch, down to the end field, and straight onto the beach. He was very fit
and he didn't stop running until we got there and even when we were there he
hardly seemed out of breath. Then gently he lifted me off his shoulders and
on the way down gave me a kiss right on my lips, which I greatly
appreciated. There was something about a kiss from daddy that was so much
nicer than one from mom. Then carefully I dropped down to the sand giggling
like the happiest boy on earth, which in fact I was. Daddy bent down in
front of me and started to unbuckle my very sweaty dungarees. The beach was
empty as we were in a very remote part. I wasn't sure if we actually owned
that part of the beach as I never seemed to see anybody on it except
occasionally wanderers would come and station themselves in the very hot
months but nobody seemed to care. So there were my dungarees now falling
past my slim hips. I wore no t-shirt under them as was the fashion to be
bare-chested and I always think boys look very cute shirtless in dungarees
to this day. Then very swiftly daddy untied the laces of my working boots
and slipped them off. They must have smelled a lot because I was very hot
and sweaty, but daddy still decided he was going to have a play with my
little feet. He called them "ickle feet". He loved playing with them, saying
they were so cute and yummy looking and how he would love to eat them all up
and keep them in his tummy forever and I would giggle away and he would
pretend to eat them, putting my dinky little kiddy toes into his mouth and
licking all around them. By then I would be in hysterics but he wouldn't
stop because he knew I loved him doing that and secretly I think I knew he
loved having them in his mouth. I must admit I do see some very cute boyfeet
these days. So as I would have guessed daddy decided as soon as my boots and
socks were off my feet, the toes were in his mouth and I was feeling giddy
with happiness and love. Although I was a little grossed out that my feet
were so sweaty and smelly yet he was licking it all off! What a kewl daddy I
bet you're all jealous. Then after about five minutes of tongue-bathing my
`ickle tootsies' he pulled the dungarees the remainder of the way off of my
body so I was sat solely in my tight little red undies. I stood up and ran
at him and playfully pushed him over onto the sandy beach. As I did he
lifted me up onto his body and he lay on his back as I straddled his manly
torso. Then I leant forward and lay my lips on top of his and just held them
there. I liked when daddy and I kissed for a long time it made me feel so
special because he never did that, or any of the other special things with
the others. I don't think he even ever kissed them much at all and they were
never allowed in his workshop except on special occasions but I was allowed
in with him whenever I wanted. He never played with their feet, I even asked
him once and he said because their feet aren't cute and I don't want to do
our special little things with those noisy brats. That was a good enough
answer for me and I was perfectly happy being daddy's special little boy.

So we lay on the beach one on top of the other, motionless except for our
lips gently gnawing on one another's, our tongues gently rubbing against
each other intertwining and making love. I found this kiss with my daddy
totally natural, although for a five-year-old I could be very intimate and
sexual even though I had no idea any of that existed at the time. It was me
that first started kissing daddy longer. I don't know why I did it, it just
felt right and it felt nice. I couldn't imagine doing it with someone else
especially not mom, her kisses were just nothing special and I often
preferred her to kiss me on my cheek instead. I guess I was just such a
daddy's boy. I broke the kiss and smiled staring into my daddy's eyes. He
had eyes the same colour as the ocean and I loved to stare into them because
they looked so wonderful and magical. That was the same excuse for daddy. My
eyes were the exact same colour as his and he would stare into them for the
same reasons. The other family members all had brown eyes like my mom.

As I looked into his eyes I fell into a sleepy state, it wasn't like he was
hypnotising me or anything I just loved to stare at them and it would take a
lot to stop me staring into them. I felt my daddy's big strong talented
hands running up and down my back and I was confused, he spent all his time
working on big heavy projects with his bare hands, moving around great big
bails of hay and operating heavy machinery, yet his hands were so amazingly
soft on my body. It felt like silk was being gently rubbed around my torso.
His hands slipped around the front of my chest as I rose up slightly. It was
then I realised I was smiling so happily and contented. His fingers worked
their way up the sides of my body and delicately ran along the hairless
smooth baby-soft caves of my armpits. It didn't tickle at all though, it was
too nice a feeling to tickle, I simply just lay there enjoying the feel.
That was another place my daddy loved to be. Sometimes he would run his
fingers gently in there, others he would smell them and then bathe them with
his very lovely and delicious tongue. I loved my daddy's tongue it always
found its way into the places that felt so awesome when it was there.

So as his fingers ran through my little wonder pits I let out a loud sigh
and laid my head down onto my daddy's dungaree covered torso. I decided
however it would be more comfortable with his dungarees off so I sat up and
as he kept stroking various parts of my upper body I began to unfasten the
dungarees. That done they fell back over his shoulders and obviously reading
my mind, he lifted himself up slightly so that I could pull them down to his
lower back. Then sadly pulling myself away from daddy's silky touch I leaped
down to his work boots and untied them. Unfortunately I was not as skilled
at getting them off as his lovely hands were. I got very angry with myself
and started to get a little upset that I was just making the knot worse.
Daddy eased my troubles simply by lifting me into his basket-lap as he sat
up and kissed me on my lips, then working his way along my cheek his lips
made it to my ear where I felt a very yummy tongue lick away inside my ear.
That tickled a lot but it was still very awesome. When I looked back down
his boots were amazingly both untied, and I once again pulled away from my
daddy's loving attention. The boots were soon off though and followed by the
dungarees. I didn't do it half as sexily as daddy would have done but I
didn't care I just wanted them to be off him so that I could get back to
kissing him as our both hairless torsos met and slightly rubbed across each
other. I adored the feel of daddy's slightly sweaty torso rubbing up and
down on my very young innocent soft body. As I laid back down daddy's silky
hands began to wander down my back. What I hoped for came true, again.
Daddy's fingers slipped down and down my soft little back until they reached
the waistband of my sexy little red undies.


More in chapter 2 coming soon.

Please email me with your thoughts on the story. However deconstructive
criticism will be sent straight to the Spam Box. Thank you.

Dkboy58@hotmail.com