Kevin and Adam



My name is Kevin Maitland; Kevin Connor Maitland to be exact. I live and work on what is usually known as the Near North Side in Chicago. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the geography of one of America’s largest cities, Chicago sits at the south west tip of Lake Michigan. It is essentially a rectilinear city, with streets running either north-south or east west. Each street, whatever its length, always retains the same name, so that you always know where you are on the “grand plan” as it were. You may, of course, be miles from where you want to be, because the streets can be very long, but blocs are numbered in a very regular manner so that you can easily find places. All in all it is a very logical layout and numbering system, which beats New York’s hands down. Chicago was, for many years, America’s second city, but with the growth of Los Angeles on the west coast, it has fallen to third place. Nevertheless, Chicago is a huge city with lots going on. It’s a great place to live and I love it.

The downtown area, the centre of the city is called the Loop, which takes its name from the fact that a superannuated, overhead city transport light railway rattles in a loop around the area. To the east of The Loop is Lake Michigan; south of The Loop are the poorer suburbs and many industrial plants; the Near North Side begins just north of The Loop, where North Michigan Avenue, Chicago’s most prominent north – south thoroughfare, crosses the east-west orientated Chicago River and becomes what I personally consider one of the finest streets in the USA with some fine shops and shopping malls and some great architecture, both ancient and modern. Chicago has long been famed for the most advanced and adventurous architecture in the USA, ahead of New York and other cities.

To the immediate west of North Michigan, the quality again drops off rapidly, but to the east in a sort of triangle formed by the avenue itself and a road called Lake Shore Drive, which follows the shore of the lake as it runs north at a somewhat western angle. The upper part of this triangle is a nice place to live. There are some fine apartment houses and a few newer, smaller hotels in private hands, which offer their clients something more individual than the large chain hotels, most of which are present in downtown Chicago or around the airport at O’Hare, out further west.

This triangular subdivision, I suppose I should call it, ends just north of one of Chicago’s iconic old hotels, the Drake. Here, North Michigan Avenue meets its definitive end as it merges tangentially with Lake Shore Drive, which continues its northern course along the lake shore to the east. On its west side, looking out over Lake Michigan are large apartment blocks, forming what is called the Gold Coast. This is one of the best residential areas of Chicago proper, as distinct from its many far flung suburbs. Just a few streets over to the west, the quality again drops off dramatically: the beauty, if beauty it is, is but skin deep!

Why am I telling you all this. Not because I am a city tour guide, but because I work in the office of small real estate agency, Boardman’s, which concentrates its sales efforts on precisely this rich area and a little further north. I am what, in the language of the profession, is called a “negotiator” which is an upmarket name for a salesman and I joined the Boardman agency aged nineteen, as a trainee negotiator.

I had no real academic qualifications to speak of on leaving school and had taken a job in a supermarket, but then I got the chance of this job in the property business, so I jumped ship and took it. Boardman’s has a series of branches all over the Chicago area, but I had the luck to be sent to this Gold Coast branch, as it was called, which dealt with property in the area I have just sketched out above. Initially, I was sort of the odd-job boy, the only male employee, in an office staffed by some six ladies of indeterminate age, all of whom were determined to “mother” me.

Why was this? Well, even though I say so myself, I was an attractive (I still am!) young recruit, with nice manners and well spoken and these ladies simply adored having a man about the place. Alas, they did not know that I was totally gay, a confirmed and practicing homosexual from the moment I left high school and I wondered what their reaction would be when it finally, as it inevitably would, became common knowledge where my sexual inclinations lay. Well, in the event, it was a non-event. They just accepted me for what I was; a handsome looking, nice mannered guy.

I was not, and am not today, an effeminate type. On the contrary, I had always been a keen sportsman and gymnast at school and I know that my body, and, dare I say it, my cock, were the envy of most of my school friends. So my lady co-workers did not feel they had an effeminate type in their midst, which I think they might have found embarrassing. Anyway, I was totally accepted for what I was by all of them and we all got along together with no problems.

At the time I joined Boardman’s I was already living alone Beylikdüzü escort in a rented room. My father had caught me in my bedroom, in the act of fucking my first male conquest. I must have been mad to think that I would get away with it, but he walked in on us as I was battering my partner’s arse as hard as I could. My father is a very straight laced type and could not believe that I, his only son (I have two older sisters) could be gay. Anyway, there was an enormous bust-up, which resulted in my leaving home, accompanied by a flood of tears from my mother and sisters. But my father was adamant; no homosexual, not even his own son, was going to sleep under his roof. We went through a long drawn out dramatic row together, the outcome of which was that my father might just as well have uttered those immortal words “Never darken my doorstep again”. He did not actually say that, but he made it quite clear that I was no longer welcome and should leave. So that was that and away I went, to the sound of my mother’s entreaties to let her know where I would be staying. Aged nineteen I was out of the family home, on my own and had to paddle my own canoe, which quite frankly, I really did not much mind.

My life at Boardman’s was very pleasant. I was soon taken out on sales presentations with one or other of my female colleagues and I quickly saw what was needed. As I have explained, the Boardman office where I was located had, as its sales territory, all this northern part of Chicago, of which the jewel in the crown was the near North Side and the Gold Coast. But there was also lots of other, less desirable real estate a little back from the lake, all of which was eminently saleable, albeit to a somewhat different type of clientele. And sell them we did as greenbacks were greenbacks whether from wealthy lake front buyers or from more modest types looking for a starter home, not too far from the downtown area, to renovate.

I was first allowed to take out prospective buyers alone, when the office was overwhelmed with requests to see properties for sale. I quickly discovered that in joining a realtor’s office, I had fallen on my feet, for I had a natural ability to talk to clients, listen to what they wanted, and show them what we had on our books which might meet their requirements. Once started as a salesman proper, I found I had the knack of twiddling the prospective clients around my little finger as I have that much desired, but difficult to acquire, attribute called empathy: clients truly thought that I understood their problems and desires. And who is ultimately to say, for I was successful in the gentle art of “closing the deal”: getting clients to sign on dotted line and thereby earning my commission. So I very quickly became a good salesman. Realtors are notoriously poor payers of basic salary, but shell out lots on commission, so you have every incentive to sell. So sell I did; I earned loads of commission and was soon making a very good income.

Well, now that you know what I do for a living, let me fast forward from a beginner aged nineteen to today, when I am twenty three years old. If you can believe it, I turned out to be so good at “closing the deal”, that from my joining Boardman’s aged nineteen, by the time I was twenty one years old, I was the top salesman in the office where I worked. So, for the past two years, just wait for this, I have been earning just over $100,000. – each year in salary and commission. This year I might even make $120,000.-! It sounds amazing, I know, but it is a fact. Were my female colleagues jealous? If they were they never showed it and life at Boardman’s was just great for me. I loved the job and was earning big bucks. I wondered what my father would have said. But we had no contact; I occasionally met my mother in The Loop in Chicago’s top department store, Marshall Fields, for a somewhat mournful lunch, but that was the extent of my contact with my family.


So, now you know all about how I earn my living, what about my private life?

Well, as I told you earlier, I am a regular practicing homosexual. I am totally gay and, outside the office, I lead a gay life-style. My earnings quickly let me leave the one room I had taken when my father threw me out of the family home and I rented a large two bedroom apartment on the top floor of a newly renovated block, called Lake Shore Towers, on the near north side, just below the Drake Hotel.

The building was not actually right on the lake shore itself, but was near enough to allow the poetic licence beloved of property developers to give it this grand sounding name. To be fair, from my apartment on the top floor, you could just see the lake, but that was it. And quite frankly, I have never myself been turned on by the thought of having a place with a view on the lake; all you look out on is endless water, grey a lot of the time and not terribly appealing; but that is just my view, which, when I am showing a prospective buyer a Gold Coast apartment with a lake view, I keep to myself. On my earnings, I could easily afford the rent and it was nice to live Beylikdüzü escort in a good neighbourhood with quality shops, bars and restaurants, all within walking distance.

As I told you, I had been a keen sportsman at school and I had joined a gym as soon as I had enough spare cash, to keep myself fit and to try to improve both my body and cock size. Cock size, whatever anyone might tell you, is an important component of one’s self confidence and is of prime importance to gays, whose main focus is pretty well always on the male sex organ, which we often refer to as our ‘man-meat’. So, as in the gym, I met a number of other guys who were, like me, gay and who also wanted to build up their bodies and cocks, I soon developed a small group of like minded friends, with whom I had regular sex.

There were six of us, a well matched group of gay young studs, all six foot or just over in height, each of us very well muscled and, most importantly, each of us with a good sized fuck-pole between our legs. I don’t want to sound boastful, but it is a simple incontrovertible fact, that I had the biggest cock. This did not particularly make me the leader as we were, as I said, a well matched group, but it did give me personally a great sense of satisfaction. At the end of the day, whatever anyone might tell you, size is important and I was really glad that I sported plenty of inches where it mattered most.

The six of us formed a sort of club, which we jokingly called the Lakeshore Copulators, for at the end of the day our main occupation whenever we met, was fucking each other in every different way conceivable and boy, it’s amazing what you can come up with if you try! So on Friday evenings, we all got together at one or another of our places – we all lived quite separately by the way – and had a little fuckfest and let me tell you that we must have found every conceivable way of using our cocks on each other. All in all, Friday nights were an absolute ball; we all enjoyed ourselves enormously.

I hate to think what my father would have thought had he known what his son was getting up to now; remember, I was only nineteen when he kicked me out of his house, having he found me having sex with one of my friends in my room. I guess he would have gone totally mad to find that his son was a committed gay who indulged in all kinds of sexual practices which for him, were beyond the pale. I am sure that he would have seen me as a pervert, but I really did not care what he might have thought.

Neither I nor my friends ever hurt or offended anyone and to a man we were all well spoken and polite towards other people. Out activities were all in private, so what the hell. There is just so much hypocrisy about sex, so we just got on with doing what we wanted as a group of consenting adults indulging their sexual desires and fantasies in private.

I should perhaps explain something about gay sexual relationships and here I am not talking about lifetime commitments, where two guys fall in love and form an item, but about casual or recreational sex, call it whatever you will. Guys fall into three distinct categories, which can be described as Tops, Bottoms or Polyvalent.

A ‘Top’ is a guy who only fucks another guy’s butt, but never allows any other guy’s cock to enter his own anus. Some of these guys remain anal virgins for life. They fuck other guys’ butts like rabbits, but never ever allow anyone to fuck them: their fundamental orifice is strictly off limits. So their sex life depends upon finding another guy who is happy to have is arse fucked. As you might image, being a rigid top is really a very limiting characteristic; but there are lots of them around, believe me.

From the point of view of physical satisfaction, a top is well placed to ensure his personal satisfaction. He simply bangs away at his partner’s hole until he himself reaches orgasm, with all the wonderful feeling that phenomenon always brings. Whether the bottom receiving the pounding reaches the same degree of satisfaction depends totally on the top who is fucking him. Often the top simply climaxes himself and that is that, whilst the bottom of the encounter may be left feeling totally frustrated.

A ‘Bottom’ is just the reverse: he is a guy who loves taking another guy’s cock up his own arse, but who never himself feels the need to use his own fuck-stick on another guy. I guess that this group relies upon really good top partners to bring them to orgasm, otherwise they are stuck with jerking off their own dicks, which given their proclivity for being fucked rather than fucking themselves, I imagine they do quite often. I imagine that their sex lives are easier than that of a die-hard top, for lots of guys are always looking for someone to fuck; so bottoms are in great demand.

I suspect, but I am not certain, that those permanent unions where one guy takes on the role of husband and the other that of the female, are made up of a top and a bottom, who, because of their individual but opposing preferences, make up a harmonious couple. It is interesting that even a committed and Escort Beylikdüzü practicing gay such as I am, still finds certain aspects of homosexual relationships unclear; but that is the way it is.

The third category, the Polyvalents, to which group I belong, enjoys both fucking and being fucked. It is, to my mind, the very best of situations and avoids, in cases where two guys do become an item, the attribution of the role of wife or husband to each party; where two polyvalents get together as an item, then it is a union of equals, which is the type of union, if I ever get to that stage, I personally favour.

Both partners to the union enjoy being with each other and enjoy a mutually harmonious conjugation of the verb to fuck in the both the active and passive voices.

So, what of my personal sex life? Well with my small group of like-minded gays I had encountered at the gym, we form a small, tight-knit group, which once a week, usually on a Friday night, meets together for an evening of sex. Where do we meet? Well usually in the apartment of one or another of us, but often in my own place, as I have a bigger apartment than my five buddies. And what do we do together? Well, you name it: we have tried out everything and usually have very good, often hilarious time together. Sex, for the six of us, is a fun pastime; it’s what I call recreational sex.

Apart from our regular once a week mini fuckfest, I myself need sex more often than once a week and on an individual basis, at least once a week, I get together on a one to one basis with one of my buddies and we indulge ourselves with some hard sex together. But it is this need for regular sex, which brings me to the true subject of this story, which is how I came to meet Adam, who became my protégé, lover and, ultimately, although not in any way my intention when we first met, my partner for life. But fate works in the strangest of ways and this is the story of how a chance meeting changed my life forever.


As I said earlier, I need sex on a very regular basis and one of the ways I satisfy my needs is by what, for want of a better name, I call “one night stands”. In fact, these are really encounters which never last more than a couple of hours and are, for the main part, with business men visiting Chicago and who, like me, are looking for casual sex. More often than not, they are straight guys who simply want to have a little anal stimulation administered to them by a young muscular stud with a big cock, which bill, I fit perfectly! I truly enjoy fucking some guy whom I have just met, in the full knowledge that, bar exceptional circumstances, I will probably never ever see again. Here is my technique for pulling such men.

As I mentioned earlier, the Near North Side where I have my apartment, is an upmarket quarter of good shops, restaurants and smaller privately owned hotels. One of these is called the Howard House, owned by; you guessed it, the Howard family. This is a recently built deluxe hotel, catering for, among others, wealthy visiting businessmen, who wish to escape from the sterile quality of accommodation offered by the big hotel chains. The Howard family had invested heavily in this project and it had been a great success, as the place was almost always fully booked. But the big attraction for me is the ground floor bar, which had quickly become the top gay, quality, pick-up venue on the Near North Side.

I normally go along there straight after work, arriving around six o’clock in the evening, when the bar is filling up with guys – it was essentially a male environment – coming back from their business day. I have gotten to know the bar-tender, Tony, himself a gay, quite well and he often gives me the nod on some guy who, he has somehow divined (ask me not how), is looking for “action”, which is the way it is normally put.

My technique is then to position myself with a drink at the bar so that the prospective partner cannot fail to see me and my undoubted readiness “to serve”. I don’t want to blow my own trumpet, but I am a handsome looking guy with a good figure even when fully dressed; I wear fashionable, sexy looking clothes, which in themselves make a statement, so that anyone with half an eye can see that I am on the prowl, much as they themselves are.

The usual approach is that the prospect wanders across to me and says something like, “Are you looking for action – if so, then I’m your man?” To this I nod my head in assent and then, usually the guy proposes that we go up to his room (they are always staying in the hotel) and have a drink and “get to know one another better”. You can see how it goes, for it is the same the world over.

Usually, our meeting ends up with me rapidly getting familiar with the other guy’s anus, which I ream with my considerable cock, with the greatest of pleasure. I should say that all the guys I ever pulled in this way, were happily married men, who, away from home, fancied a little anal stimulation, something neither their own wives nor a prostitute could give them. I am usually a maximum of two hours at such sessions and my partner of the moment often invites me to eat dinner with him in the hotel’s (very excellent) restaurant. For the most part they are nice guys, who are bored with constant travelling and being alone; so a little casual sex livens up their lives.

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