Bad Game of Pool - 3
published June 3, 2019
Graham finally meets Cort in a diner.
It didn’t take long to find Cort at a booth in the diner he mentioned on the phone, and I made my way to him. He took me in carefully as I squeezed into the spot. “Nice sweat pants.” He smiled. A server was there almost instantly after.
“We’ll have two coffee’s and a little fella.” Cort said, never looking away at me. He licked his lips. “I’m craving something sweet.” The server nodded and walked off.
My heart was already racing while Cort sat there patiently, evidently not interested in starting the conversation. The coffee came and I was grateful for something to distract myself with. The silenced stretched out and eventually I asked “What did you do to me?”.
Cort smiled. “Hell, what didn’t I do to you?” he said taking a sip, frowning and throwing some sugar inside.
“I suppose I’m turning you into my little fuck toy.” he said as though he were describing the weather. Anger rushed up my guts and I gripped my cup hard. “I get off on it. I get off on finding cocky straight boys and twisting them into play things. I get off on seeing them struggle and fight what my pool table does to them.” Another sip. I wanted to leap over the table and knock his teeth in.
He smiled at my white knuckles wrapped around my mug. “I knew I would enjoy this.” He said, absently stirring his spoon in the mug.
“I’m sorry sir do you need two forks?” the server said gesturing to me. “No just the one, thank you.”
“You said it was the pool table. How?” I asked. He described it. How it worked. How I lost, and how he went inside me altering who I was. It was totally unbelievable and yet here it was unfolding just as he said.
“I gave you that plump ass you struggled to squeeze into the booth. I messed with your sweat, so it draws men to you sexually. I made your ass the perfect hole for fucking. It even gets wet when you’re horny—”
“Shut up!” I practically spat out, slamming my fist into the table. The diner was silent, and I felt everyone’s eyes on me. After a moment people went back to their conversations. “You fucked with my head too.” I said, quieter. “made me dream of getting fucked by guys.”
“No boy, I didn’t give you those dreams” he said, and the server came by to refill his coffee and drop off the miniature cheesecake. “I mean not any specific dream. I taught your mind how to desire submission. Obedience. And yes, what it means to lust for a man. But those dreams… no those were your own.”
He buried his fork into the cheesecake. “…though… now I’m dying to know what your brain put together. Are you remembering them yet?”
“No.” But I did.
“Even right now.. I’m sure you could remember.”
I felt like I was sinking.
“…If you think really hard…”
My breath was hot. I remember the smell of a detergent I wasn’t familiar with on the bedsheets. I felt my back arch as someone kissed their way down my neck and shoulder blades. The tickle of facial hair grazing my skin. A finger trailing up the back of my thighs before cupping my ass, and an appreciative pat. I felt a hand rubbing my cock through the fabric of my briefs and I let out a moan. The pressure on my cock built up enough that I felt myself drawn out of the memory. Cort was staring hard at me across the table.
“Yes….” Cort growled seeing my eyes refocus on him. His foot was moving in very slow circles over my crotch. How long was I zoned out for? “…yes just enjoy this, boy. Don’t even think about moving.” That familiar fuzzyness filled my head, and it all seemed easier to listen to him. His foot was warm against my crotch, and I could faintly smell his sock out of the boot. I let out a whimper.
“While I have your attention, I thought I should tell you: I can’t take away your old desires. Technically you could go back to your old life. But I want you to realize you like these new desires more. That’s why I made the smell of men intoxicating to you.”
The server returned with some coffee, but Cort put a hand over his cup. She looked over to me and did a double take. I felt a pang of embarrassment cut through the mental fog – what must I have looked like? Eyes lidded, head bowed, and jaw slack. Cort waved her away and we were alone again.
“I can smell it on you, boy. Your heat. I can feel it getting into my head just like I wanted it to. Telling me to take you right now.” he said, licking his lips. That foot was still moving over my cock as he finished his coffee.
I saw his hand go towards his jacket and pull out a ball of fabric. “I made the smell of men. The smell of their sex. Totally irresistible.” He slid the ball across the table and it fell on my leg. Faintly I could make out the smell of a jock.
“I know what you’re feeling. The need to smell. To taste. To fuck. This is right. This is exactly how you should be feeling. And all you have to do is let go and let me show you.”
“I don’t want this.” I lied, staring at the jock on my thigh. Cort’s foot slowed to a crawl and I was losing it. It was torture.
“We both know that’s not true.” Cort purred, his foot stopped and I let out another whimper. I reached down to ball the jock in my fist and bring it up to my face. I took in a slow and deep breath. It was incredible. Corts foot continued those impossibly slow circles as I panted into the fabric.
“Smell that? You need this, boy. You need your master’s cock.” I let out a choked whimper, feeling something about the words latch onto a memory. Master. Master’s cock. I needed it. “You need me to take care of you… Break you in… Make you feel good… Feel so good, boy…” he growled.
A moan rose out from me as I came against Cort’s foot and there wasn’t a god damn thing I could do about it.
That got everyone’s attention.
“What a good little fuck boy you are.” he said, withdrawing his foot. I was panting hard.
“Sir…” a server said, and when I looked around everyone’s faces were twisted in disgust – which for New Yorkers is saying something. “…I’m going to have to ask you both to leave.” She continued, and I could tell the entire diner was looking at us. Cort set down far more cash than we owed and wiggled his foot into his boot before getting out of the booth. I could feel how wet I was from the cum and had nothing to hide it from all the eyes at the diner.
“Light grey sweats, huh?” Cort said, grinning at the dark spot on my crotch.
I shifted to get out of the booth and felt a chill on my ass from the moisture there too. A lot of moisture. My face was beet red. Cort shimmied out of his leather jacket and handed it to me. “Wrap that around your waist, boy. We’ve made enough of a scene here.” I took it gratefully. We walked outside and I started walking away from him as fast as possible.
“Boy.” he started, and I froze in my tracks. “Don’t even think about showering tonight.” he finished, fishing out a cigarette, then turning towards the subway station.
At home I peeled off my sweat pants and shucked the jacket onto my bed before walking to the shower. The cold floor tiles always shot me right in there to get at the hot water, but this time I couldn’t get myself to move. Cort told me not to.
“What happened to you?” I asked myself in the mirror. Turning sideways I still couldn’t believe how perfect my ass was.
Perfect. Not big. Not weird. I was calling it perfect.
“Perfect for fucking” I heard Cort say in my mind. Naked I turned back toward my bedroom and fell into my bed, face first into Cort’s jacket. My senses were swimming in leather and his scent, and I let out a moan. I moved onto all fours, face down into the jacket, ass in the air.
My hand wandered between my legs and fingers searched toward my hole. A wetness was steadily dribbling down my crack. Eventually my fingers teased a circle around my hole and I whimpered, cock drooling onto the bed.
“All you have to do is let me show you…” I heard Cort in the back of my head. My finger slipped inside and I let out a moan. I hated that I left the jock at the diner. All I wanted was to bury my face in it. I needed Cort. My finger wasn’t enough, I had to get more.
Letting out frustrated growl into the mattress, I fished out my phone.
“I need to see you.”