AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Daddy?" I say, lifting an eyebrow.
"Yeah, you've got that Daddy vibe. Like you might want to spank me and send me to your room."
"Is that so?" Am I really flirting with this guy?
"I haven't seen you here before."
"I haven't been here before," I answer, taking a deep swig of my drink.
"What's your name?" He asks, leaning up against the bar and gesturing for a beer.
I hesitate. "Nick," I lie.
"Well, Nick," he says my name like he knows it's not real. "Were you looking for something in particular?"
I'm not sure I understand his question, but I shake my head. "No, just stopped in for a drink. You… reminded me a little of someone I know."
"Oh yeah? This person have a name?"
"Jack," I answer honestly, because it would be a reach for this guy to put two and two together.
He leans in close enough that I can smell coconuts. Must be whatever oil he used to gloss his skin up.
"Well, isn't that a coincidence," he says huskily. "That happens to be exactly my name."
I swallow, and he catches the movement. His hand comes up to touch my Adam's apple, and I swallow again, letting him feel the movement. He makes a low humming sound, like he's thinking of something, before leaning forward and whispering in my ear.
"Follow me, Daddy."
He walks away, towards the back of the room, and through a hallway. At first I just stare after him. Then I drain my drink and stand to leave the bar.
At some point, my feet curve around and follow Cowboy Jack down the dark hallway.
I don't know why I follow him. And I don't know what I'm expecting. I'm not drunk, and obviously I know he isn't my Jack. But I'm… curious. Can I find the same connection, the same release, somewhere else?
I hear a little whistle, and look up to see Cowboy Jack darkening the entrance to a strange room. The music here is different, more intense, thumping, like dance music but slower. It's dark, except for a dim disco ball type projection.
Cowboy Jack pulls me into the room. His hand in mine feels strange, but I let him lead me to the back of the room. From here I have a vantage point of the door, so I can see if anyone walks in, but I have a feeling no one really cares what happens back here. Cowboy Jack presses himself against me, and my back hits the wall. He ghosts his lips over mine, but doesn't try to kiss me, which I'm thankful for, because I don't want him to. He presses his lips to my neck instead, and I close my eyes.
"That's right, Daddy, close your eyes."
"Coach," I correct him.
"What?"
"He calls me Coach."
"Alright, Coach," he agrees, and licks my neck. His hand trails down my stomach and cups my crotch.
I'm not hard, but my thoughts of Jack earlier still have me at maybe half mast.
"Well damn, Coach. I knew you'd be packing, but shit."
He doesn't sound like Jack. He doesn't smell like Jack.
But his hand, when he reaches inside my pants and pulls out my half-hard cock, is warm enough. And when I close my eyes and focus on only his hand stroking me, I can almost pretend it's Jack.
It's even easier to pretend when he stops kissing my neck and gets to his knees in front of me. When his warm mouth sucks me in, my cock doesn't seem to realize that it's not Jack. It grows harder in his mouth, and he takes me all the way back in his throat. He's not doing that thing I like, that he always does, with his tongue around the ridge of my cock head. But he's enthusiastically sucking, and it does feel good…
