Date: Sun, 15 Dec 2002 17:42:42 -0800 (PST)
From: JP Schoenfeld <rangersgoalie30@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Gratton Chronicles, the Prequel (Part 3 of Playing in the NHL)

Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction, not of fact. The players
and teams mentioned are real, but the story does not imply the sexuality of
any of the players mentioned.

Special thanks to Vostock for his stalwart support and assistance, and
superior proofreading.

=====

The Gratton Chronicles, The Prequel

* March 2000 *

"Why do these things always happen to me?" Chris Gratton thought to himself
as he was on his flight from Tampa to Buffalo. While he was upset
initially, it dawned on him that he'd had some very good times with the
Lightning. "Well, Chris, it was fun while it lasted" he thought to himself,
"but sooner or later this something like this was bound to happen. I'll
just have to give everything I've got for Buffalo, and hope for the best."
He knew full well the real reason why he was being traded, but in his mind,
he hoped that information would remain a secret, like so many other things
in his life.

As Chris reclined his seat and leaned back, he closed his eyes and thought
back to happier times in his life and his career.

* Flashback - Summer, 1993 *

Chris strolled out onto the practice green at Glen Abbey with the biggest
grin you could find. He was at the Abbey for a charity golf tournament, but
this was only one of the stops in his whirlwind summer. A few weeks
previous, Chris thrilled his family in Brantford by being drafted third
overall in the NHL draft. Now, he was thrust into the bright spotlight that
comes with hockey success. Of course, for things like the golf tournaments,
he didn't mind, considering how much he loved to play the game. Gratton had
played in a tournament for his junior team, the Kingston Frontenacs, the
week before the NHL draft. Even in that tournament, the media attention
being given to him was overwhelming, but he knew that it comes with the
fame.

But, with the fame would also come the darkness. Chris harbored a secret
that nobody knew about, that he was gay. This was so hard for Gratton,
especially since he was the de facto superstar in a town known to be hockey
crazy. He struggled with his emotions in the Frontenacs dressing room for
those two seasons he was in Kingston, terrified that his teammates would
find out and treat him with the same disdain as they had one of the other
players on the team, Jarrett McNab. McNab had been a walk-on with the team
at the start of the season, and had been starting to fit in with the
team. However, a rumor went around the dressing room that Jarrett was gay,
and the taunting and mockery that ensued essentially drove Jarrett off the
team, out of Kingston, and to the best of his knowledge, out of hockey
completely. Even though he was arguably the best player on the Frontenacs
club, and he was expected to show leadership in the dressing room, Chris
watched the whole situation unfold over a couple of weeks before Jarrett
left, terrified to say anything for fear that his teammates would find out
that he was gay. This was even harder for Gratton, as he and Jarrett had
become close friends off the ice. While Chris was attracted to many of the
hot players on the Fronts, he was especially attracted to Jarrett, only
because they had become such good friends and the fact that Jarrett's
piercing blue eyes drove him wild. Gratton had, in fact hoped that his
first experience with another man would be with Jarrett. But because nobody
was aware of his secret, he had to satisfy himself with memories of the
players in the shower and locker room, rather than act on his urges for
fear that he would suffer the same fate as Jarrett. Still being a gay
virgin and being the popular superstar on the Frontenacs team forced
Gratton to live his life of lies while trying to protect everything he
worked for in hockey. Gratton struggled with the thoughts that he had
somehow let Jarrett down by not sticking up for him, by not showing
leadership in a time of crisis.

Most nights, Chris would lie on his bed in his billet's home with the
bedroom door closed, and delve deep into his thoughts. In fact, the first
night after Jarrett left the team, he thought of his friend and all that
happened to him, and broke down into tears. "It wasn't supposed to be this
way," Chris thought to himself. "Jarrett was a really good friend, and I
let him down by not sticking up for him in the dressing room. But there's
no way I can let anybody know that I'm gay. That would ruin everything."
Chris would struggle the entire season with his emotions and his secret,
while still trying to be the hockey superstar that was expected of him by
the Frontenacs fans. So while his career was headed in the right direction,
his emotions would be either his best friend or his worst enemy. And now,
playing in the golf tournament as the first round draft pick of the Tampa
Bay Lightning, the thoughts ran through his head of Jarrett, of his career,
and being gay.

After he finished with his practice putting, he walked into the clubhouse
to meet with the other players in his foursome. Gratton's group had just
arrived to check in, and Chris walked up to introduce himself. "Typical of
a charity tournament, guys that look like they've never played a hole in
their life" Chris thought to himself as he met his partners. First, Harry
Smith, who Chris found out was a 50 year old farmer from north of Toronto;
Fred Payton, a 46 year old traveling salesman with a beer gut the size of
Buffalo, and Jim Stevenson, a very youthful looking 25 year old investment
banker. All in all, a normal group of participants for a tournament of this
type.

As Chris was wandering around the clubhouse waiting for their tee time, he
ran into Drake Berehowsky, who was with the Toronto Maple Leafs.

"Hey, Gratton," Berehowsky said as he put gave Chris a firm
handshake. "Congratulations on getting drafted. Tampa, is it?"

"Yeah. I'm really looking forward to playing down there. I just hope it all
works out." Chris stared at the size of Berehowsky, and knew he was going
to have to bulk up more if he was going to play in the NHL. Berehowsky was
a solid 210 pounds, and Chris was hard pressed to find an ounce of fat on
his body through his tight golf shirt and shorts. As he continued his
conversation with Drake, he could almost sense that Berehowsky was checking
out his body with his eyes, or at least that's what he thought. It wasn't
that Chris didn't have a bad body; in fact, Chris had bulked up quite a bit
in the last season, adding muscle and losing fat so that his body was fit
and trim. The sleeves on his red golf shirt showed off his bulging biceps,
and the shirt draped across his upper chest to perfectly show off his pecs,
with his nipples poking against the tight fabric. His white walking shorts
accented his legs ideally, and showed off his leg muscles and the light
blond hair on his lower legs.

"Well, anyway, have a great tournament tonight, and I'll see you at the
dinner." Drake said as he walked out of the locker room. Chris stood and
stared at Berehowsky's tight ass as he left. He thought to himself that he
wouldn't mind catching up with Drake in a more accommodating environment if
the opportunity ever presented itself.

-----

The Gratton team was not playing well in the tournament. The foursome was
not able to come together as a team, and in fact seemed to break into two
separate groups: the two older golfers, and the two younger players. The
older two tended to be very loud and obnoxious, and reminded Chris why he
sometimes preferred not to play in charity events, as much as he loved
golf. Fred Payton had been indulging in the beer cart on almost every hole,
and by the time they had reached the middle of the back nine, he was
obviously very intoxicated. Farmer Harry was not doing much better, having
drunk nearly as much as Fred. Between them, Gratton didn't think that
either of the two could even see the golf ball clearly, let alone hit the
ball with any consistency.

"You know, Harry," slurred Fred, "I had to deal with some fag last week. I
got nothing against them; I just think they should all stay in their fag
world and leave everything for us regular guys. We should round them all up
and just send them anywhere but here. Send them all back to their gay
land."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," added Harry. "It's just not right that they
don't like women. I mean, I wouldn't want a ying yang going up my ass. Give
me a good pussy and I'll be happy. I've got no use for fags." Both older
players laughed at their comments.

Chris happened to overhear their conversation and became understandably
upset, although he did a great job at keeping his emotions from everyone
else. Jim happened to look over to Chris at about the same time as Chris
overheard the other conversation, and noticed that Chris was fidgeting, as
if something was bothering him.

"Chris bud, you OK? You look like something's bothering you."

"Naw, Jim, I'm fine."

"You sure? I mean, if you've got something you want to talk about, I'll be
happy to listen. Is it something to do with Fred and Harry?"

"Well, yeah, but I'd rather not talk about it. Let's just finish the
round."

"Are you really sure you don't want to talk about it? I can tell that
something's really bugging you."

Chris forced a smile towards Jim. "No, I'm sure I'm fine. Thanks for being
concerned, though. Now, let's get us some good shots for the tournament."

While Jim could still see that something was really bothering Chris, and he
had an idea what it was, since he too had overheard the conversation
between Fred and Harry. Jim hadn't thought a young jock like Chris would be
too gay-friendly, but stranger things had happened. He was tempted to say
something, but he decided it best just to leave it. He didn't want to
embarrass the kid, and he also didn't want to reveal too much about
himself. Jim was gay, and while he didn't lie about it, he didn't draw
attention to it. He was a professional with a burgeoning career; it was
necessary for him to be discreet. Young Chris was a tempting sight, but Jim
felt it wasn't the time or place to pursue "recreational" activities.

The remainder of the round turned more into a disaster than any of the four
could have hoped. The two older players were completely tanked and were of
no use to the team. That left the golfing down to Chris and Jim, and
considering that both of their minds were on other things, the team did not
finish as hoped, and in fact finished last in the tournament.

At the dinner banquet, both Chris and Jim both decided that it would
probably be best if they avoided the other two players in their
group. Chris especially, since it was those two players that was the cause
of his edgy condition.

"Hey Grats, you two want to join us?" Gratton heard Berehowsky's voice
across the loud banquet hall.

"Sure, Drake. We'd love to, if that's OK with you, Jim?"

"Yeah, Chris. Anything to get away from those two idiots."

Chris and Jim took the two open chairs at Berehowsky's table and sat
down. With Chris sitting directly beside Drake, he could notice that Chris
was not in an especially good mood.

"Hey, Chris. You look down. Something wrong?" Berehowsky asked.

"Nah, I'm fine." Chris replied, looking down at the table.

"No, Chris, you're not. Something's bothering you, and I think you'll feel
a lot better if you talk about it." Berehowsky pushed to find an answer to
why Chris seemed so down.

"Yeah, Chris. That's what I was trying to tell you on the course. You've
got people who are willing to listen to you, and you just want to keep it
inside. I mean, it might really help for you to talk. I'm no psychology
major, but keeping things deep inside is a sure recipe for disaster. Just
let it out, and you'll feel a thousand times better." Jim added.

"Well, I don't feel like talking about this. Why don't the two of you just
drop it?" snapped Chris, starting to get visibly irritated at the pressure
he was feeling from these two people.

"Chris," replied Berehowsky, "I'm not going to drop this. We're both former
Frontenacs. I think that should be worth something."

"I don't know, Drake, I just don't know." Chris sighed a response. "It's
just not something that I really want to talk about, and this really isn't
the place."

"Tell you what, Chris. You've got to trust me on this one. I think I can
help you with whatever is bugging you. I remember my first season in the
NHL, and all the good and bad thoughts I had. It just helps to have someone
you can talk to that will listen to what you have to say. After the
banquet, if you can last that long moping around here, we can go back to my
condo for a Front-to-Front chat. Just you and me, nobody else. Would that
be better?"

"Yeah, Drake, I'd really like that. Thanks."

The rest of the banquet seemed to drag on forever. Drake could only stare
at the young player sitting beside him, with the dour expression on his
face. Berehowsky knew that there had to be something really big bothering
Gratton, but he had no clue what it could be. There was a brief moment of
excitement when Chris's golf partner Fred tripped on a chair and took out
two tables. Chris got a good laugh out of that, considering how displeased
he was with Fred, but it didn't help to improve his mood.

"Well, Chris," Drake said. "The banquet's over, so do you want to follow me
back to my place?"

"Yeah, I suppose." Chris replied, still staring at the table. The two
players stood up to leave the table.

"Well, Chris," Jim said as he shook hands with both players, "I have to
thank you for everything today, despite the other two. I hope you feel
better and that whatever is bothering you goes away." Jim offered Chris his
business card. "I don't mean to mix business with pleasure, but if you ever
need investment advice, or want to have a proper game of golf, give me a
shout."

"Thanks, Jim, maybe I'll give you a call, I enjoyed playing the round with
you, anyways. Thanks for playing." Chris glanced the card "Jim Turner,
Creston & Felton, Investment Bankers" and tucked it into his pocket for
future reference.

Berehowsky and Gratton left the hall and went out to the parking lot to
drive over to Drake's condo. As the two players drove out of the Abbey
parking lot, Jim had gone to the clubhouse entrance just to make sure that
everything was all right. "Fortunately," Jim thought to himself, "Chris is
in good hands with Drake; he'll make sure that everything turns out OK."

-----

The two pulled into the parking lot of Drake's condo. As Chris got out of
his car, he stood in the parking lot and took in the scene. "Fuck, he's
lucky, to have a condo right beside Lake Ontario, great view of the city,
this is awesome."

"Let's head up to my place, Grats."

"Sure, Drake."

Berehowsky led the way towards the main door of the condo building with
Gratton following close behind. Chris was staring intently at the movement
of Drake's tight ass side to side as he walked, and tried to imagine just
how good it would look. The elevator ride to Berehowsky's top floor condo
seemed to take forever to Chris, since it meant it was longer until he
could be close to the Leafs stud in the privacy of his condo. Finally, the
elevator doors opened and Berehowsky led Gratton down the hallway to his
corner unit. Unlocking the door and showing Chris in, Chris could only
stare at the breathtaking panoramic view that Berehowsky had of the lake
and the city skyline.

"Fuck, Drake, you've got one hell of a view from here." Chris said, as he
opened the sliding door leading to the balcony.

"Yeah, wasn't cheap either, but it's great for when I want to sit back and
relax."

Chris walked back into the condo and sat on Berehowsky's leather
sofa. Drake dropped into the chair directly across from Chris. Berehowsky
leaned forward on the chair and stared into Chris's eyes.

"So, Chris, do you want to bother with the chit chat, or do you want to
tell me what was bugging you today?"

"Well, I really don't know. I mean, you don't need to get involved. I can
deal with this myself. I've done this for two years in Kingston, where
everything's on my shoulders. If the team plays bad, it's my fault. If the
team doesn't score, it's my fault." Chris had started to raise his voice
slightly as he exuded the irritation that was bothering him as the leader
of the Frontenacs.

"Well, Chris, that comes with being a superstar and getting drafted in the
first round. You have certain expectations that you have to live up to, and
that's what is expected."

"Yeah, but I mean the pressure sometimes is just too much. It's like I
almost can't be myself. I'm a representative of the team, and what I do
reflects on the team as a whole. If I tried to be myself, it just wouldn't
be right."

"That's bullshit and you know it, Gratton." Berehowsky cut right to the
chase, showing his irritation with Chris's sidestepping of the
questions. "Yeah, you represent the team. So what? I don't think the
problem is with representing the team. It almost sounds like you have a
problem with the team itself. Was there a problem with any of the players?"

"No, the guys on the team are the best teammates I could ask for." Chris
sighed as he responded. "I just don't think I'm cut out to be a leader."

"More bullshit, Chris. When we talked in the clubhouse before the round
today, you seemed pretty confident with yourself. You've changed from this
morning to when we met at the banquet. You were practically moping around
the entire time at the banquet, and shit, even your playing partner knew
something was wrong. And you won't even fucking talk about it. I know for a
fact that you wouldn't have come over here if you didn't want to talk. Now,
what's the problem?"

"Well, Drake, I guess it had to do with the two older guys in my group
today."

"Nothing out of the ordinary so far, Grats."

"Yeah, but it was something that they said. I mean, normally things people
say in conversation wouldn't bug me at all."

"What did they say, Chris?"

"Well, they were, I mean, they were saying about." Chris was trying to hold
back against the tears he could feel starting to form in his blue eyes.

"It's OK, Chris. You can tell me. What did they say?"

"They were just making comments that were upsetting to me. I guess I had to
be so politically correct in Kingston being the leader and everything that
it really bugged me. I mean, they were insulting gays."

"Was it anything in a really bad way, Chris?"

"No, just general stuff, but I mean it really upset me. I can't stand when
anyone insults people when they can't defend themselves."

"Chris, you might be right, but I can tell that's not the only problem
here. I can see that there's more to it than that. If it had bothered you
that much, you would have told the two guys right then. I know the type of
player you are, and you won't let anyone get away with anything that
irritates you on or off the ice. Why would this bother you so much? Is
there anything else you want to tell me?"

Chris could tell that Drake was seeing right through him. Drake was right,
though, that if Chris had been really upset about something, he would have
spoken his mind to the two guys. After all, he played hockey the same
way. Chris figured that he could trust Drake enough to share his deepest
secret.

"Drake, I'm gay." Immediately after the words came out of Gratton's mouth,
the silence in Berehowsky's condo was deafening. Both players stared at
each other, pondering what to say next. Drake continued to stare deeply
into Chris's blue eyes as he sat back in the chair.

"I think I know the whole story now, Chris. You're right, Kingston isn't
the greatest place to play hockey for a gay guy. I remember the locker room
talk, and I know what you were feeling."

"You mean, you're cool with it?"

"Hey, Chris, that's the way you are. Everyone has to be who they are. It's
just harder for you being gay. You had to hide it in Kingston, didn't you?
You couldn't let your teammates know that their leader was gay. I know
exactly how you feel."

"It's great for you to say that, Drake; I mean, I've never told anyone
about this. I just feel so much better now that I've been able to tell
someone who can relate to the hockey environment. I just can't believe how
cool you are with all of this, considering that you're straight."

Drake rose from the chair and walked over to the couch where Chris was
sitting. Putting his hands on both of Chris's shoulders, Berehowsky leaned
forward and planted a quick kiss on Gratton's left cheek. "I never said I
was straight, did I, Chris? Besides, I suspected that's what the problem
was all along."

Berehowsky stood back from Chris. As Chris sat on the couch and pondered
what just happened, Drake could see the thoughts churning through Gratton's
head. Gratton sat back on the couch and smiled.

"Cool! I've never really acted on my feeling before, and I've never fooled
around with anyone."

"So what are you trying to say here, Chris?"

"Well, Drake, I really like you. I really noticed it at the golf
tournament, and sitting here talking with you right now just makes me
realize how fucking hot you are. Please, Drake, I want to do this with
you. I want my first time to be with you, someone I can trust and who knows
how I feel."

Drake didn't respond to Chris with any words, but simply smiled.

Berehowsky leaned forward and gave Gratton a quick peck on the
cheek. Without saying a word, Drake began to gently rub Gratton's shoulders
to try to remove the tension from his body. Sliding his hands downward, he
teased Chris's pecs through the golf shirt he was wearing. Chris leaned
back on the couch to enjoy the attention that Drake was paying to his young
body. Chris closed his eyes while Drake continued with his impromptu
massage by rubbing his bare thighs. Every so often, Drake's hands would
find their way inside Gratton's shorts.

"Fuck Grats, you've got one fucking hard body." Berehowsky commented as he
felt the firmness of Gratton's solid legs. He reached up to grab the bottom
of Gratton's shirt and roughly yanked it over the blond stud's head and off
his body. Berehowsky stared at Chris's smooth chest and began to run his
fingers across his taut stomach. The look of lust in Gratton's eyes was
apparent to Berehowsky as he undid the belt and button on Chris's
shorts. In one deft motion, Gratton's shorts and jockeys were on the floor
and his hard, thick, 10-inch cock, with a small amount of blond pubes, was
standing straight at attention.

"Oh baby!" Berehowsky said as he stared at Gratton's perfect dick. Leaning
forward, he gently kissed the soft dick head and tasted the small drop of
precum that was oozing. Drake began to take more of Gratton's cock into his
mouth, feeling the stiffness pulse with every pass. Gratton moaned from the
feelings of Berehowsky's tongue running across his sensitive cock head and
the warmth of his mouth as Drake sucked on his stiff cock like the master
cocksucker he was. Gratton ran his fingers through Drake's long dark hair
and felt his strong shoulders through his shirt. Chris started pulling on
the fabric, exposing more of Drake's tanned, smooth back, which contrasted
against the white material of the shirt.

"C'mon, Drake, let me see more of your hot Leaf bod."

Drake removed his mouth from Gratton's cock and lifted his shirt the
remainder of the way over his head. As he stood in front of Gratton, Chris
stared at how built Berehowsky really was. Broad shoulders, ripped chest
with a dusting of brown hair, and taut stomach, showing just a hint of the
solid six pack abs that lay beneath. Chris eyed the trail of dark hair that
ran from Drake's stomach into his dark shorts and licked his lips with
delight. A few years of playing hockey at the NHL level had made Berehowsky
work out more in order to bulk up his body to play defense.

"Oh, man, are you ever fucking hot, Drake! How do you fucking do it?"

"Well, working out a lot over the summers in the weight room at the Gardens
helps a lot, and I try to do a 5 mile jog every morning when I don't have a
game or practice. After that, I just lie on the balcony and work on my
tan."

"Fuck, it's really paid off. You are so fucking built it's amazing."

Drake smiled at Gratton's infatuation with his body and started showing off
a bit for Chris. Berehowsky started to do a hilarious bodybuilder display,
trying to flex his muscles in the same way as the bodybuilders would. All
he succeeded in doing was make Gratton laugh hysterically.

"Shit, Drake," Chris laughed as he tried to fight back tears of laughter,
"I think you should stick to hitting hockey players and not showing off
your muscles!"

"Yeah, right, Grats. You like looking at me and you know it!" Berehowsky
gave up on the strip show and sat down on Gratton's lap, giving the stud a
quick kiss on his cheek.

"Fuck, Drake, you've been so understanding with me here tonight. I'm
actually glad I came here to talk about everything."

"Well, I think we're done talking for now, Grats." Berehowsky stood up from
Gratton's lap and took off his now strained shorts. Berehowsky's 9-inch
cock was freed from its constraints. Gratton gasped as he stared at Drake's
huge cock. "Grats, you want to take this into my bedroom?"

Gratton didn't say a word as he stood up from the couch and followed
Berehowsky into the bedroom, staring at Drake's firm, tight ass as he
walked. Once inside, the two hockey studs flopped onto the bed, Chris on
his back and Drake lying beside him. Berehowsky went back to sucking
Gratton's still hard cock.

"Oh, fuck, Drake, love your mouth on my cock." Gratton moaned from the
sensations of Berehowsky's hot mouth on his stiff dick.

"You haven't felt anything yet, Grats." Berehowsky said as he took his
mouth from Gratton's cock. Pushing Gratton so that he turned over onto his
stomach, Berehowsky stared at Gratton's tight, firm ass and smiled. Drake
began to gently massage both cheeks with his hands, knowing that Gratton
was enjoying the attention. He pulled apart Chris's cheeks to reveal what
he was looking for, Gratton's tight hole. Drake wet his finger and began to
softly tease Gratton's hole. The feelings Gratton had from Drake's mouth on
his cock were nothing compared to what was shooting through his body from
having his ass played with.

"Fuck, Drake. That feels so fucking amazing." Gratton moaned as Berehowsky
continued teasing his hole. Without saying a word, Berehowsky stopped
teasing Gratton's hole with his finger, and leaned forward to start rimming
him with his tongue. Berehowsky could feel Gratton's hole twitching with
anticipation with every pass of his tongue. Gratton was writhing on the bed
from the sensations of Berehowsky's tongue, which Drake knew would happen.

"Just getting you warmed up for my stiff cock, Grats. You want my hard dick
in your ass, don't you, rookie?"

"Umm, well yeah, I guess I want your cock in my ass, Drake", said Chris a
little shakily, "but you know that I've never done this before, so maybe I
should just fuck you."

"Hey, you're the rookie," Drake said, laughing.  "I'm teaching you,
remember?" Drake gave Gratton's bubble butt a playful slap. Drake was
experienced enough to know that some guys just liked to get their rocks
off, and then leave their partner with only a stiff cock and a sore ass. He
decided that wasn't going to happen tonight; that he was going to take this
blond beauty's cherry and leave him begging for more.

Chris turned his head so that he was looking back at Drake. "Uh Drake"
Chris inquired hesitatingly, "Does it hurt much, when you get fucked?"

"Grats, I won't lie to you," Berehowsky said, trying to be reassuring to
Chris. "The first time can be rough, but there is a painful pleasure to
getting fucked, like when you pump iron. I remember what my first time was
like, and I want you to enjoy this, so I will be very careful. If it is
good for you, you'll come back for more" Drake ran his fingers through
Gratton's thick mane of long blond hair and gave him a quick
kiss. "Besides, it is important for you to learn what this feels like. A
guy with a big cock like yours has to treat his fuck buddies carefully."
Drake gave Chris' butt another playful slap. "So, rookie, are you ready to
become a man?"

"Yes" Chris said with enthusiasm.

Drake grabbed a condom from the night table and then lubed up both his cock
and Chris' tight, hairless hole. He started to push his hard dick into
Gratton's hole, and he could feel Chris start to tense up.

"Just relax, Chris. This is going to be bad for a little bit, but I promise
you, I won't do anything to hurt you. You just have to get used to it."
Berehowsky tried to reassure Gratton while he massaged Chris's back and
shoulders.

"Fuck, I don't know if I can take you, Drake. I mean, it fucking hurts!"

"Well you have to relax. You know I won't hurt you, but like I said, 'the
first time can be rough'. It'll be bad for a little bit, but you'll adjust
to it. Just relax, push out like you're taking a shit, and breath deeply."

Drake thought back to his first time, on a cold winter night back in
Kingston, when he had met a student from Queen's University after a game
and gone back to his dorm room. After a couple of beers and some friendly
persuasion, Drake had found himself squatting on the student's hard cock,
grunting and groaning like a bull, and loving every minute of it. It was a
strange coincidence that the guy who popped Drake's cherry had been none
other than Jim Turner, Gratton's golf partner that day. Drake had planned
on hooking up with Jim after the banquet, but fate, in the form of Chris,
had intervened and thrown a wrench into those plans. Drake was definitely
going to have to give Jim a call and thank him for the intro.

Drake did everything he could to try to put Gratton at ease, he knew all
that the kid was going through. Drake also realized that Chris probably
didn't realize what he had gotten into, so he tried to be as reassuring as
he could. Drake continued to push his cock slowly into Gratton's hole,
pausing after a bit to let Chris get used to the unusual feeling, then
pushing in some more. Before either of them realized it, Drake was
completely into Gratton's ass. Just as slowly and carefully, Drake started
to fuck Gratton's tight ass.

"How is it now, Chris?"

"Oh, fuck, Drake, it feels fucking weird, but it doesn't really hurt."
Chris responded somewhat curiously. Confident that Gratton was getting used
to his large cock, Drake started pounding Chris's hole with more passion
and fury. Gratton was starting to get into it as well, as he was thrusting
his hips back in tune to Drake's fucking.

"Getting into this now, are you Grats?" Drake replied as he could feel
Gratton's movements beneath him.

"Oh Fuck, Drake you have no idea how long I've waited for this, Drake."

Berehowsky continued to pound Gratton's ass with enthusiastic
passion. Deciding that he wanted to see Gratton's face when he shot his
load into his ass, Berehowsky carefully helped turn Chris over onto his
back. The look of passion on Gratton's face told Drake just how much he was
enjoying his first fucking.

"You are so damn adorable, Grats." Berehowsky said as he stared at
Gratton's ripped chest while he moved his sweat-soaked hair from his own
face. Looking at Gratton's cute face only drove Berehowsky to drill
Gratton's ass even more.

"Fuck, Grats, your ass is so tight and hot, I'm fucking ready to shoot my
load. Oh, Fuck!" Drake had hoped to prolong the fuck, but with a tight ass
like Chris had, he could never last long enough. With a loud groan, he
thrust one final time and emptied his load into Gratton's tight
ass. Gratton clenched down with his ass muscles to squeeze every drop out
of Berehowsky's stiff cock. Once he had finished shooting his massive cum
load into Gratton's ass, he left his still softening cock inside him and
started to jack Chris's slick hard cock, using the steady stream of precum
as lube. Gratton started writhing on the bed from the feeling shooting
through his body, and soon started blasting his cum. Streams of white cum
landed on his chest, Drake's hand and on the bedspread. Gratton started
whimpering as Berehowsky continued to slowly jack his super sensitive cock.

"Please, Drake, that's too fucking much." Gratton was practically crying
from Berehowsky continuing to play with his sensitive dick. Berehowsky,
realizing just how much that this was tormenting Gratton, stopped. He
leaned forward and planted a quick peck on Gratton's sweat-covered cheek.

"Fucking awesome, Drake, absolutely fucking awesome. I'm glad that my first
time was with you." Chris said, completely exhausted from the thorough
fucking he had just endured.

"Grats, you can come here anytime you want to do this again. I love fucking
that tight ass of yours."

The two studs remained intertwined on the bed as their racing heartbeats
and gasping breaths subsided to normal levels. Within a short time, Chris
showed the quick recuperation and stamina that would make him a sexual
legend wherever he went. Rising to his knees, his long thick cock jutting
out in front of him, Chris looked down at Drake and grinned wickedly.

"Now it's my turn," Gratton said to the brown haired beauty lying on the
bed.

"Okay, stud, fair is fair," Berehowsky said as he stared at the hot blond
stud in front of him. "But you know that you've got one of the longest, and
definitely the thickest cock, I've ever seen, even in a porn movie, so you
gotta be gentle."

"You got it, Drake," promised Chris, "Now bottom's up."

Drake sighed and pulled his knees up to his chest, as he instructed Chris
on how to lube him up and put on a condom. Gratton proved to be a very
attentive student, and followed every word Drake had said. Fortunately,
Gratton's cock tapered at the head, so the initial entry was not too
painful. Soon after, his balls were slapping against Drake's ass, as Chris
put his firm jock muscles into delivering a hard fuck to his new
buddy. Drake just lay on the bed, gasping and reveling in the feeling. Very
soon Chris blew his load with a mighty roar and flooded the rubber with a
gallon of cum. This continued for the entire evening, with Chris eager to
make up for lost time, and Drake happy to accommodate. The two young hockey
studs put their muscular bodies through a workout that beat anything they
had ever done on the ice. They lost track of the number of loads they had
spilled, but the night ended well after midnight, with Chris face down on
the bed, and Drake above him in a pushup position, pounding his nine inches
into Chris' tight ass. After blowing his load, Drake collapsed on Chris'
sweaty back and hugged him closely.

"You okay, stud?" Drake inquired.

"Are you kidding? This has the best night of my life!" exclaimed Chris
excitedly, as they slowly drifted off to sleep.

Hours later, Drake stirred from his restful sleep. It was still early in
the morning, but as Drake opened his eyes and looked down, Chris was on his
hands and knees, his mouth firmly around Drake's already stiff cock. Drake
always woke up with hard on, but this was a first. Chris tried very hard to
duplicate the fantastic blowjob he had received from Berehowsky, but
inexperience caused him to keep scraping Drake's stiff dick with his
teeth. Drake looked at the bedroom window and saw that dawn was
approaching. He decided to see if Chris would help him act out a fantasy he
had thought about since he had moved into the condo. He pushed Chris off
his cock and stood up from the bed.

Chris looked confused and asked "Wasn't I doing it good enough for you?"

"We'll practice that some other time, but now I want to try something new."
Drake laughed and ran his fingers through Gratton's thick mane of blond
locks. He held out his hand and led Chris to the balcony. As they stepped
out into the morning air, the sun was just beginning to rise over Lake
Ontario. Chris stepped back inside quickly.

"Uh Drake, we don't have any clothes on." said Chris from inside.

"No shit, Sherlock." retorted Drake.  "No one can see us from up here, and
there are no other buildings around. So, get your tight hockey stud ass out
here."

Chris obediently complied and stepped out onto the balcony, his long thick
dick, leading the way. Drake pushed Chris up to the railing and told him to
lean forward. Chris leaned forward at a 90-degree angle and gripped the
railing, since he knew what was coming next. Chris' ass was still quite
slick with lube from the previous night's festivities, so Drake merely
lined his cock up with Chris' hole and shoved it in. Chris yelped at the
sudden invasion of his still tender ass, but once Drake's cock started
brushing his prostate, he began to enjoy the fuck again. Berehowsky fucked
Chris as hard as he had the night before, and Chris simply pushed his ass
back and begged for more. Drake reached around and grasped Gratton's
monster stiff cock and began to stroke him furiously. As the sun rose and
they began to feel its hot rays against their flesh, they both came to a
rapturous climax, blasting loads of their cum everywhere. They rested for a
minute, holding each other and enjoying the view, but Chris suddenly
realized that he needed to get home. With a quick kiss, he gathered up his
clothes, got dressed, and made the short trek home to Brantford. As he
walked in the back door into the kitchen, he met with the furious gaze of
his father.

"About fucking time you got home, Chris. Out gallivanting all night, and
can't even bother to call us to let you know you wouldn't be home. You're
18 now, Chris, and you can't be out all night fooling around with girls. I
mean, you've got your career to think about now. You do this in Tampa Bay,
and it could ruin your career."

"But, dad..."

"No buts, Chris. This is your future we're talking about. You have to
promise me that you'll quit chasing girls and partying all night. It's for
your own good."

"OK, dad. I promise I'll quit chasing after girls. For the good of my
career." Chris uttered those words to his father and grinned at the irony
of the whole thing. After all, he had long given up on chasing girls, and
had focused his attention at chasing after hot studs, most especially Drake
Berehowsky.

"Good. Now, you look like shit. Go get showered and changed, and then come
down for breakfast. You've got stuff you've got to do today."

"OK, dad. Oh, by the way, I've got to go back into Toronto this
afternoon. I've got a ... meeting ... that I have to attend. Don't worry,
it's hockey-related." Chris said, as he left the kitchen. He continued
smiling to himself, only because his father had no idea of what he was
really like. As for the meeting, only Gratton knew that the hockey meeting
was going to be at Berehowsky's condo, where he could continue to work on
his rookie learning curve.

======

I always appreciate feedback and comments, so please feel free to send me
any comments, complaints or praises to me via e-mail at
rangersgoalie30@yahoo.com.