The Ablino Rhino 1
“The Quebec Nordiques select, from the Saskatoon Blades, Wade Belak.”
I was caught off guard by that announcement. It was the first round, and they picked me. They used their first pick to grab a stay at home defenseman who takes to the ice to beat the living shit out of guys. I had been told not to expect to be picked until the second round at the earliest. I was daydreaming at the time and didn't even realized I had been picked until my parents stood up. That was rather embarrassing. I could only hope the cameras didn't catch that part.
So I went up on stage and went through all the on stage motions. Lots of hand shaking, lots of pictures. That shit took hours. By the time I was finally let loose, the first day of the draft was over. As the arena was emptying out, I caught up with my teammate and boyfriend, Rhett Warrener. He had been drafted by the Panthers at the start of the second round.
“Florida” I laughed when I saw him in the Panthers jersey. “Only place you can get a tan on the ice.”
“I'll make sure to get a tan on my ass for you” Rhett said, pinning himself up against me. He gazed into my eyes with an evil smile. I feel his hands slip under my pants and take hold of my cock. His hands gently rub and awaken my shaft.
“Fuck you” I growled.
He was rubbing me in an open area where anyone could catch us. What made it even worse is it was not that crowded, so anyone who looked our way could immediately tell what was going on. Just before my cock reached its fully hard state, he finally stops and drags me off into a bathroom.
He pulled my pants down to my feet and continues fondling my hard cock. Even in the bathroom, we were still out in the open, and there was no door between the bathroom and the corridor, so anyone could just walk in on us. But I was horny as hell, and wasn't about to stop Rhett. I pulled him down to his knees.
“Blow me, ya fucking cunt” I grunted.
Without hesitation, he went down on me, giving my man meat the attention it desperately needed.
“Ah yeah, suck it. Dirty fucking cocksucking bitch...oh fuck.”
“What the fuck is going on here?” someone yelled.
Rhett and I turned to find Chris Simon and Owen Nolan standing there watching us.
“Looks like we got some rookie lovers here who couldn't wait to get back to the hotel” Chris said. He grabbed Rhett and pulled him to his feet.
“Lets go, rookies.”
We were pushed into the last stall and onto the floor. Owen locked the door and they both stripped down to nothing.
“Gonna show you rookies how it's done” Chris said. “You gonna make out in the bathroom, you're gonna be the bathroom. I gotta take a piss.”
I didn't think too much of that until Chris stood over Rhett. No, he couldn't, could he? Turns out he could, and he did. He urinated all over Rhett, his face, his jersey, his pants.
“Fuck the Panthers” Chris grunted.
“What the fuck?” I shouted. I was about to confront Chris when he aimed his yellow piss stream right in my mouth. I turned around, spitting like crazy. The taste of his piss was awful.
“Stay out of this, kid” Chris said.
As I was trying to get the taste of piss out of my mouth, Chris emptied the rest of his bladder all over Rhett. Worst yet, Owen was also taking a piss on Rhett. His clothes ended up totally soaked.
“This kid from the Panthers makes a great urinal” Owen said. “Later, rookies.”
Owen and Chris left us in the restroom, and with a big problem.
“Wade” Rhett said.
“What?” I shrugged my shoulders.
He held his jersey in the light. It was once white, but now almost completely yellow.
“I've got a whole bunch of draft events to go tonight.”
After some quick and panicked thinking, I left Rhett behind, and bought a draft t-shirt and a hat. Rhett changed into the shirt and hat and we sneaked back to the hotel. I hid him in my room while I found a laundromat where I could wash his jersey. Those were some tense hours. Five minutes didn't pass without someone asking me where Rhett was. I just told everyone I didn't know. Rhett ended up doing the rest of the draft day festivities in a slightly damp jersey since you couldn't blast those things in the dryer. There was no time to let it air dry, but at least the stains and smell were out.
I lived in a large five bedroom house with some of the guys in Saskatoon. Andy MacIntyre, Clarke Wilm, Shane Calder, Todd Simpson, and Rhett lived there as well during the season. Chris McAllister stayed with us when he played in the last two games of the season. This was one big frat house, lots of drinking, lots of sex. I first stayed there when I was trying out for the team in 1992. At the time, it was ran by Shawn Yakimishyn. He and Shane were fuck buddies, and they made no effort to hide it from their underage teammates. I was 16 at the time, and Clarke was 15. Every night, loud grunting, banging, and cursing would fill the house as those two sex maniacs went at it. The walls were so thin you could actually hear every word of their dirty talk. Chris and I slept in the same room and all the noise made us hard during the night. My first sexual experience was with him during that camp. We needed to get off otherwise we wouldn't have gotten any sleep. We kept it strictly to blowing each other back then as neither of us were adventurous enough to try fucking yet, especially with the size of our cocks. I would later find out that Shawn and Shane had their way with Clarke by force. That always make me wonder why they shied away from initiating me or Chirs.
I was as close to Chris as I was to Rhett. The difference was I had to bottom for Chris as much as I topped him. He took it pretty easy when he fucked me though. He could put someone through serious pain with that 14 inch cock of his. Rhett on the other hand was my personal sex toy. I plowed him with my footlong cock and dumped a fresh load in his ass several times a week, and he loved it. I only went down on him once in a great while.
I did not go home to my parents that summer. About to turn 18, I was ready for some full time freedom. I stayed in out frat house the whole summer. Rhett being the mammas boy that he is, went home though. Everyone else in the house except Chris went home as well. It was a summer of sex with some of my opponents. Kevin Sawyer was one of my favorites. He played for the Spokane Chiefs. I had not fought him yet, but we often hooked up after the game when we played against each other. He loved sex as much as I did, and spent a month with Chris and I that summer.
Now I know people are going to ask why I'm making love to my most bitter rivals off the ice. That's because we look after each other. Tough guys don't get much attention in bed from their more skilled teammates. I was lucky to have Rhett as my boyfriend. But most fighters weren't so lucky. If you had another fighter on your team, that is who you slept with. Otherwise, you were stuck with your rivals. Not that there was anything wrong with that. It was sex after all, but you were forced to rely on a different guy every night to get off. After any game, tough guys got together to help each other get off, even if they fought in that game. Nothing on the ice carried over off the ice. The outcome of the fight had no impact on who topped. That said though, I was used to winning a fair amount of fights and most of my opponents were too intimidated by my size to try fucking me. I towered over most guys in junior, except for Chris of course.
I was caught off guard by that announcement. It was the first round, and they picked me. They used their first pick to grab a stay at home defenseman who takes to the ice to beat the living shit out of guys. I had been told not to expect to be picked until the second round at the earliest. I was daydreaming at the time and didn't even realized I had been picked until my parents stood up. That was rather embarrassing. I could only hope the cameras didn't catch that part.
So I went up on stage and went through all the on stage motions. Lots of hand shaking, lots of pictures. That shit took hours. By the time I was finally let loose, the first day of the draft was over. As the arena was emptying out, I caught up with my teammate and boyfriend, Rhett Warrener. He had been drafted by the Panthers at the start of the second round.
“Florida” I laughed when I saw him in the Panthers jersey. “Only place you can get a tan on the ice.”
“I'll make sure to get a tan on my ass for you” Rhett said, pinning himself up against me. He gazed into my eyes with an evil smile. I feel his hands slip under my pants and take hold of my cock. His hands gently rub and awaken my shaft.
“Fuck you” I growled.
He was rubbing me in an open area where anyone could catch us. What made it even worse is it was not that crowded, so anyone who looked our way could immediately tell what was going on. Just before my cock reached its fully hard state, he finally stops and drags me off into a bathroom.
He pulled my pants down to my feet and continues fondling my hard cock. Even in the bathroom, we were still out in the open, and there was no door between the bathroom and the corridor, so anyone could just walk in on us. But I was horny as hell, and wasn't about to stop Rhett. I pulled him down to his knees.
“Blow me, ya fucking cunt” I grunted.
Without hesitation, he went down on me, giving my man meat the attention it desperately needed.
“Ah yeah, suck it. Dirty fucking cocksucking bitch...oh fuck.”
“What the fuck is going on here?” someone yelled.
Rhett and I turned to find Chris Simon and Owen Nolan standing there watching us.
“Looks like we got some rookie lovers here who couldn't wait to get back to the hotel” Chris said. He grabbed Rhett and pulled him to his feet.
“Lets go, rookies.”
We were pushed into the last stall and onto the floor. Owen locked the door and they both stripped down to nothing.
“Gonna show you rookies how it's done” Chris said. “You gonna make out in the bathroom, you're gonna be the bathroom. I gotta take a piss.”
I didn't think too much of that until Chris stood over Rhett. No, he couldn't, could he? Turns out he could, and he did. He urinated all over Rhett, his face, his jersey, his pants.
“Fuck the Panthers” Chris grunted.
“What the fuck?” I shouted. I was about to confront Chris when he aimed his yellow piss stream right in my mouth. I turned around, spitting like crazy. The taste of his piss was awful.
“Stay out of this, kid” Chris said.
As I was trying to get the taste of piss out of my mouth, Chris emptied the rest of his bladder all over Rhett. Worst yet, Owen was also taking a piss on Rhett. His clothes ended up totally soaked.
“This kid from the Panthers makes a great urinal” Owen said. “Later, rookies.”
Owen and Chris left us in the restroom, and with a big problem.
“Wade” Rhett said.
“What?” I shrugged my shoulders.
He held his jersey in the light. It was once white, but now almost completely yellow.
“I've got a whole bunch of draft events to go tonight.”
After some quick and panicked thinking, I left Rhett behind, and bought a draft t-shirt and a hat. Rhett changed into the shirt and hat and we sneaked back to the hotel. I hid him in my room while I found a laundromat where I could wash his jersey. Those were some tense hours. Five minutes didn't pass without someone asking me where Rhett was. I just told everyone I didn't know. Rhett ended up doing the rest of the draft day festivities in a slightly damp jersey since you couldn't blast those things in the dryer. There was no time to let it air dry, but at least the stains and smell were out.
I lived in a large five bedroom house with some of the guys in Saskatoon. Andy MacIntyre, Clarke Wilm, Shane Calder, Todd Simpson, and Rhett lived there as well during the season. Chris McAllister stayed with us when he played in the last two games of the season. This was one big frat house, lots of drinking, lots of sex. I first stayed there when I was trying out for the team in 1992. At the time, it was ran by Shawn Yakimishyn. He and Shane were fuck buddies, and they made no effort to hide it from their underage teammates. I was 16 at the time, and Clarke was 15. Every night, loud grunting, banging, and cursing would fill the house as those two sex maniacs went at it. The walls were so thin you could actually hear every word of their dirty talk. Chris and I slept in the same room and all the noise made us hard during the night. My first sexual experience was with him during that camp. We needed to get off otherwise we wouldn't have gotten any sleep. We kept it strictly to blowing each other back then as neither of us were adventurous enough to try fucking yet, especially with the size of our cocks. I would later find out that Shawn and Shane had their way with Clarke by force. That always make me wonder why they shied away from initiating me or Chirs.
I was as close to Chris as I was to Rhett. The difference was I had to bottom for Chris as much as I topped him. He took it pretty easy when he fucked me though. He could put someone through serious pain with that 14 inch cock of his. Rhett on the other hand was my personal sex toy. I plowed him with my footlong cock and dumped a fresh load in his ass several times a week, and he loved it. I only went down on him once in a great while.
I did not go home to my parents that summer. About to turn 18, I was ready for some full time freedom. I stayed in out frat house the whole summer. Rhett being the mammas boy that he is, went home though. Everyone else in the house except Chris went home as well. It was a summer of sex with some of my opponents. Kevin Sawyer was one of my favorites. He played for the Spokane Chiefs. I had not fought him yet, but we often hooked up after the game when we played against each other. He loved sex as much as I did, and spent a month with Chris and I that summer.
Now I know people are going to ask why I'm making love to my most bitter rivals off the ice. That's because we look after each other. Tough guys don't get much attention in bed from their more skilled teammates. I was lucky to have Rhett as my boyfriend. But most fighters weren't so lucky. If you had another fighter on your team, that is who you slept with. Otherwise, you were stuck with your rivals. Not that there was anything wrong with that. It was sex after all, but you were forced to rely on a different guy every night to get off. After any game, tough guys got together to help each other get off, even if they fought in that game. Nothing on the ice carried over off the ice. The outcome of the fight had no impact on who topped. That said though, I was used to winning a fair amount of fights and most of my opponents were too intimidated by my size to try fucking me. I towered over most guys in junior, except for Chris of course.