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.
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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.
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