three pairs of lovers with space



Anthony Bacon was an English boy-lover who emigrated to Australia in the early 1980s, initially to Sydney. His account of his impressions has never been published before. All the photographs here were taken by him and are of boys who actually involved themselves in Greek love then, the two of hustlers of 12 and 13 being the real boys in his account.


I came to Australia from the U.K. in the early 80s.  The weather was wonderful and so were the boys.  So, I must clearly state from the very first that I have loved boys with a passionate tenderness since I was fourteen myself.

Are you still watching?

Were Australian boys different from those I’d left behind in the Old Country?  Not even slightly, I was relieved to discover! They were the same deeply curious, sensuous creatures, and had the same enormous capacity for love.  The same wonderful sense of humour, as well.  Though popular culture in both sex-repressive nations saw kids generally as silly nothings — neuters, almost — they were of course, none of those things.

Back in the early 80s, boys in Australia were still often allowed to roam free in their own time, and you met them everywhere.  On the beach and in public parks, by rivers and near boatsheds, at shopping-centres or simply riding their bikes in the street.  Like their British cousins, they were largely ignored by their parents.  Though well-fed and well-clothed and though sparkling with good health; they knew that they were secondary in the hermetic world of their mothers and fathers.

Hermetic?  Yes, back then, kids lived in one world and their parents in another.  Conversations about the really important things in life very rarely happened.  Few boys asked: “Dad, why does my willy get stiff?”.

Perhaps some had fathers who could simply explain the phenomenon in a sensible manner, but most did not, and here it has to be recorded that Australian adults tended to be even more uptight about sexual realities than British parents.  So, for the deeply curious boy, information was thin on the ground…

So, how did they find out about sex and what went where?  Older boys, mainly: “Come on, I’ll show you how to do it…”. Then there was the concept of attractiveness.  A boy half-way good looking would know it from an early age.  Loving aunts and grandmothers pinching their cheeks: “Oh, what a lovely boy!”. Then, later on, men pinching their nether-cheeks…

Impish grin

The truth is that most adults in Australia at that time worked hard and played hard.  The playing part of life included a lot of cold beer and their whole culture reflected the relative lack of importance of their children in the scheme of things.  The old adage held: a good boy was neither seen nor heard?

Along comes an adult who smiles and talks gently and listens to what the boy has to say… Wow, what is this?  Does this man really care what I think?  He laughs at my jokes!

OK, after a while, he wants to go behind the bushes…  So that’s OK because the boy has been doing this with his friends for some time, and anyway the boy is deeply curious about men

Or maybe this isn’t his first time?  The need for more pocket-money, or simply the thrill of doing something that would cause his sainted mother to have heart-failure is an important part of the attraction? 

Some boys were serious hustlers.  Others couldn’t even spell the word…  Two such were a pair of blond surfie-boys I met in a shopping centre as I wondered with my camera.  The older was about 13, the younger 12.  The 13 tried to beckon me over, but I had a feeling of danger nearby and I smilingly retired.  Later, showing a contact-print of the boys to a like-minded friend, he laughed and said that he knew them both!

They apparently always acted as a pair and while the elder would suck off a fire-hose, it was paradoxically the younger boy who would ‘take it up the bum’ — in their own words.

Inviting a promising man ...

My own theory is that most of the boys I met had sex with friends or strangers simply for the thrill of the forbidden.  And, of course, for the pursuit of that radical physical-sensation, the orgasm.  The fact that very young boys — in the right circumstances — can be orgasmic was never lost on me.  So, it was outright pleasure?  Or, being the first boy in his class who could wet-come properly?  Yet these boys entered ‘the game’, often before wetness was even physically possible, and that also was not lost on me.

Yes, I suppose there were raggedy kids in Sydney who lived under bridges, but I never did meet any of these.  They tended to be older.

No, my greatest love was for the young and clean, twelve-to-fourteens, mainly.  Slender, smooth-skinned and compact, with enormous eyes and almost always with a complexion untroubled by spots, their arms and legs were covered with a silky golden down, rather than hair…

Yes, and they laughed a lot… Nearly all of them were thrilled to be a part of what they saw as real life.  Treated like equals — but with gentleness and patience — and yes, it was really good to receive money or gifts, or both. That new Swiss Army knife was bonzer… 

And being introduced to new ways of ‘doing it’!  ‘It’, being sex generally.  Often, a boy would happily allow himself to be sucked off, or would offer to suck off the man, but would clearly stipulate ‘no bum-sex’. 

Me, I was as happy as Larry just to be in their company.  So, it is with delight that I can report that many boys having been skilfully sucked over-the-rainbow, would then often gracefully bend over and give me my quid pro quo…. ‘Come-uppance’ seems like too much of a bad pun!

The key to this, with such slender young people was of course, mental rather than physical.  If the boy was happy with doing ‘the big poke’, then it was possible.  If he wasn’t inwardly happy, it simply would not be an option?

Another shot of the same two boy lolitas

I have to say that I could swallow my disappointment in the latter case because I knew that often, a proper fuck could very well happen at a later date…

And yes, I did meet such sweet boys many times more than once.  For me, it had always been the sheer outrageousness of the act of penetrating a boy’s tender bottom that made the act even more exciting than any physical sensation involved. I suppose that I reverted to an element of playful boyishness in my own psyche in those incredible moments?

And here it is opportune to mention that these boys were not forced into prostitution by economic necessity.  For them, the extra pocket money was good to have, but overall, the main driving-force was that sex was wicked fun.

You should hear prurient giggles from behind the bushes now…  Oh, those far off days!






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