3. Marshall

Chapter 3

Marshall

After the fun of the book club at Beau's Books, Marshall and his Little friends took the short walk across town toward The Tap House. Marshall knew that Dale and Arlo's Daddies would be there, but it was all good. In fact, the prospect of letting loose and making mischief after the quiet and tranquil fun of the book club was pretty appealing to Marshall – and doing it around Daddies was even more tantalizing.

The Tap House was as lively and full of life as ever. It was a great community hub and the kind of late night spot where any of Eagle Ridge's residents could stop by and be sure of seeing a familiar and friendly face.

But as far as Marshall and his friends were concerned, that evening was all about taking over the pool table and having some serious fun.

‘Littles on the pool table!' Marshall hollered, immediately making a beeline toward the pool table and grabbing one of the cues for himself. ‘No Daddies. This is a Little tournament only.'

Dale and Arlo giggled and high-fived Marshall as he racked the balls ready to play.

‘I'll just get us some drinks,' Dale said, heading over to the bar.

‘I'll come with you to help carry them over,' Arlo added.

‘ Argh ! You just want to act all sweet for your Daddies,' Marshall said, rolling his eyes. ‘But I can do as I please. My butt is safe !'

With that, Marshall took Beachie the starfish stuffie out of his book bag and placed him on one of the barstools just behind the pool table. Trey, the owner of The Tap House, was a Daddy himself so there was never any issue about Littles feeling free to express themselves. As far as Trey was concerned, The Tap House offered a warm welcome to all – the only rule being that all patrons respected one another. Trey was handsome, and single too, but Marshall didn't really feel that special spark with him.

‘Oh, Beachie,' Marshall sighed. ‘Is there a Daddy out there for me?'

Marshall leaned over and gave Beachie a kiss on his little nose. The two of them had been inseparable ever since Marshall's parents bought the stuffie as a gift for Marshall on their one and only overseas holiday when Marshall was nine years old.

The holiday in question was a wonderful memory that Marshall always cherished. It was the summer before his father's financial difficulties kicked in, and it felt like paradise. Hot sun, sandy beaches, and the bluest oceans imaginable. Oh, and plenty of ice cream and soda too.

Little did Marshall know, but there wouldn't be another family vacation like it for the rest of his childhood. But rather than look back in sadness, Marshall always remembered just how lucky he was to have had one family vacation as good as that – and the fact that it signaled the arrival of his most cherished stuffie was simply the icing on the cake.

‘Okay, Beachie, are we going to win the tournament?' Marshall asked, making his stuffie extra comfortable on the bar stool. ‘You need to cheer for me too. And don't let the other stuffies put me off with their underhand tactics either!'

Marshall giggled to himself and happily took his drink from the tray when Dale and Arlo returned with big smiles on their faces.

‘So who wants their butt whooped first?' Marshall asked, taking a big gulp of his cocktail.

‘I'm guessing you do,' Dale declared, confidently picking up his pool cue and winking at Marshall. ‘How about this for a challenge… the winner of the tournament gets to be Queen of the play barn castle for a week?'

‘I'm in!' Arlo squealed. ‘And they get to wear the special golden crown too.'

With that, the three Littles pinky-swore on the arrangement and got down to playing some seriously competitive games of pool. With the three loyal stuffies watching on, Marshall and his friends played their hearts out until it all came down to one final pot…

‘Don't choke!' Dale said, a mischievous tone in his voice.

‘Yeah, Marshall, no pressure but this is for the championship,' Arlo added, clearly desperate for his friend to miss the shot and keep his own hopes of winning alive.

‘ Pffft . Those tactics won't work with me,' Marshall said, not taking his eyes off the balls once. ‘Just… you… watch!'

Marshall duly sunk the eight ball and immediately hauled himself up onto the pool table's smooth green top and danced a jig of delight.

‘And the new pool champion of The Tap House is… me!' Marshall declared, waving his pool cue above his head as he continued to celebrate his victory. ‘Marshall Pentland is the ultimate pool champion of the world!'

Marshall's celebratory antics drew plenty of smiles and whoops of congratulations from the various other patrons of the bar. Even the Daddies over in the corner cheered in approval at his victory. However as he continued to celebrate, Marshall's attention was suddenly taken by a strikingly handsome man sitting alone over on the far side of the bar.

Who is that?

I haven't seen him before. I'd definitely remember if I had.

And he's here to… read a book?

Marshall was suddenly transfixed by the sight of an impossibly sexy man reading alone with nothing but his beer to keep him company. Marshall watched as the brooding man paid him no attention, clearly totally engrossed in his novel.

The man was older than Marshall, probably somewhere in his mid-thirties. He was well built too, certainly from what Marshall could see of his upper half. But it was the fact that the mysterious stranger was paying Marshall absolutely no attention that was driving him wild.

I want him to look.

I want him to see me.

I want him to-

As Marshall's mind was conjuring all kind of possibilities, he became so fascinated with the enigmatic hunk that he nearly lost his balance and fell off the pool table – and it was only the quick reflexes of his friends Dale and Arlo that saved him from that potentially painful and certainly very embarrassing fate.

‘I think your cocktail went to your head,' Dale giggled, helping Marshall to safely climb down from the table.

‘Yeah, maybe,' Marshall replied, giving the mystery man one final look. ‘Or maybe not…'

After a couple more drinks at the bar, Marshall decided that it was time to call it a night and head on back to his apartment above the diner.

Marshall's apartment might not have been a luxury penthouse, but it was Marshall's home, and he had arranged the compact space perfectly to suit his needs. And this was especially true of his bedroom. With the pastel colored walls and neat array of toys in one corner, Marshall's bed was placed by the window that looked out onto the Eagle Ridge strip outside.

On another night, Marshall might have chosen to stay out later. But both Dale and Arlo were due to leave with their Daddies soon anyway, and Marshall knew that with the responsibility of opening the diner the following morning, he needed to get a relatively early night under his belt.

Max was away on another business trip and Marshall was once more enjoying the responsibility of running the diner's day to day business. And best of all, with tips and his increased wage included, Marshall was able to save quite a bit of money each week. As much as Marshall might have missed having Max around, it was a situation that actually worked pretty darn well for him.

And with the full moon's light creeping in through the ornate circular window above his bed, Marshall should have been all set to fall asleep. However as he lay on his bed that night, it wasn't Max who was on Marshall's mind. Far from it. The man who was making Marshall toss and turn was none other than the mystery man he had seen at The Tap House…

‘ Hmmm , maybe I could have some fun,' Marshall said, his mind already made up as he turned and reached into his bedside cupboard.

Marshall's eyes lit up as he took his favorite vibrator and butt plug out from inside the wooden cupboard. Along with a pot of glistening lube, Marshall was all set up to allow his imagination loose – and with plenty of inspiration in the shape of his new crush, it was only a matter of time before things go wild.

Marshall quickly slipped out of his pajama top and then whipped his plaid shorts all the way off moments later. Totally naked and with the bedside fan blowing on his smooth, exposed body, Marshall moaned in anticipatory delight as he dipped his fingers inside the tub of lube.

The feeling of his wet fingers running over the outside of his puckered ass hole made Marshall giggle and he took great delight as he looked down and saw his cock begin to throb and grow to full size.

As Marshall eased his fingers inside his tight little butt, Marshall's mind filled with images of the hunk from the bar. The stranger's total disinterest in Marshall's pool table antics was almost as hot as the sculpted shoulders and powerful chest that were underneath his worn, grey t-shirt.

Marshall let out a whimper of delight as he kept his fingers inside him and reached for the vibrator with his spare hand. As it began to buzz and hum over his nipples and then down toward his thick, rock-hard shaft, Marshall felt a sudden rush of arousal as he conjured the thought of the man standing up from his table and marching over toward him, his face full of anger and his hands ready to spank Marshall right there and then…

‘Oh… no… too soon, way too soon,' Marshall said, his voice wavering and trembling as his fantasy was brought to a head far too early by his own unstoppable climax.

With the image of being bent over the pool table and at the mercy of the powerful stranger, Marshall grabbed his cock harder and worked it for everything he could, not wanting to leave a single drop of seed in reserve.

Marshall's mind continued to work as if he hadn't just orgasmed and served up all kinds of ideas and ways that the big, strong man could dominate Marshall in front of everyone at the bar. From spanking to butt plugs to a good dose of Daddy dick worship, Marshall's imagination was running amok.

Marshall groaned in pleasure and frustration as his legs tensed and his toes curled. With his breathing heavy, Marshall bucked and thrusted his crotch upward and continued by working the vibrator deep into his ass until he was totally, undeniably spent.

‘Who the hell is that man?' Marshall panted, his head spinning and his heart pounding. ‘And why in all of Eagle Ridge didn't I even say hello?'

Marshall lay back on the bed once more and his sleepy eyes looked out through the window and at the perfectly white glare of the moon. It was time to go sleep. And if Marshall was lucky, his mystery man might just appear in his dreams…

The next morning rolled around, and Marshall was merrily opening the diner and dancing around to the radio as it played the day's hit songs.

Marshall might have enjoyed fun and frolics more than anyone but when it came to the business of working hard and getting the job done, he was a match for most people on that front too .

‘Okay… coffee machine ready, chef is working on the prep, radio is on…' Marshall said, mentally checking everything off as he walked over toward the diner door to open it for the day. ‘We're good to go.'

After unlocking the door and flipping the open for business sign, Marshall walked back toward the counter and took a big gulp of water. The early morning rush would usually go from zero to a hundred in the blink of an eye and Marshall always liked to make sure that he had taken plenty of fluid on board so that he didn't get dehydrated.

However just as Marshall was about to go for a second gulp of water, he heard the door open and looked up ready to see his first customer. But rather than one of his early morning regulars, Marshall saw none other than the mysterious novel-reading man from The Tap House.

‘Hey… good morning,' Marshall said, doing his best to sound as nonchalant as he could. ‘How can I help you?'

‘Coffee. Black. If you please,' the man said, taking a seat at the breakfast bar and casting his eyes around.

‘Coming right up,' Marshall replied, his eyes immediately drawn to the fact that the man was yet again carrying his book with him. ‘Good book?'

‘Yeah, I'm liking it so far,' the man replied, evidently not in the mood for talking.

‘Great. It looks… interesting ,' Marshall said, his eyes all over the book's rather bland cover art.

‘ Uh-huh ,' the man replied, yet again making it clear that he wasn't much in the mood for conversation .

‘Okay, one coffee and zero fun interaction coming up,' Marshall said, his snarky side coming to the fore as he placed the coffee down in front of the man. ‘Just let me know if you need anything else.'

Marshall couldn't help but feel flustered and frustrated by the man's total lack of response to him. What was doubly irritating as far as Marshall was concerned was the fact that he had pleasured himself so vigorously to fantasies of this man only a few hours ago. And yet here the man was in real life, acting all aloof and non-plussed around him.

He thinks he's something real special.

Pah. He's not all that.

And if he doesn't want to have fun with me, I might just have some fun with him…

However before Marshall could get all sassy with his customer, he heard the doorbell ring again and he looked across and saw old Mr. Withers' happy face smiling back at him.

‘Good morning, Marshall!' Mr. Withers said, his walking stick in one hand and the daily newspaper in the other. ‘I'll have my usual, if you will.'

‘Of course, Mr. Withers,' Marshall replied, smiling from ear to ear as his favorite senior customer made his way toward his customary spot over by the far exit. ‘It will be my pleasure .'

As Marshall put the emphasis on my pleasure , he couldn't help but shoot a look toward the cold, indifferent, but undeniably hot man at the breakfast bar.

He may be sexy but he's not all that .

Maybe the fantasy was better than the reality.

Oh well, I've got Mr. Withers to keep me company now.

With that, Marshall chuckled to himself and got down to the business of making Mr. Withers his pancakes and coffee. But as he stood by the coffee machine and looked into the large metal paneling at its front, Marshall couldn't help but notice in the reflection that the moody mystery man was staring right back at him…