Every day I thought about the next date with Marshall. I was excited about it, and I couldn’t wait for the hours to tick away. Fortunately, I only had to wait three days, and there was no softball game in between to try and figure out how we should present ourselves to the rest of the world. Then when the day finally arrived, the butterflies took flight in my stomach, and my throat constricted making it hard to even eat.

Insecurity is not a common thing for me, but that’s exactly what took hold of my mind as I stared into the mirror after my shower the morning before my next date with Marshall. It wasn’t about what I saw staring back at me. It was a concern about experience.

Marshall suggested dinner again and a play after. It was our second date, and I wondered if there was more than just a kiss coming after the play. In fact, I hoped there would be more. I wanted to see Marshall’s body. I wanted to touch it. I wanted to kiss it, but I wanted to do it right.

As I stared into the mirror, I saw a 25-year-old man staring back, and I knew that he was dating a man over 40 years old. Marshall was an older man who likely had experience. I guessed that he had a lot of experience.

I knew how to have sex, but so little of my past experience was really making love. It was getting off together. There is a difference. I wanted to make love with Marshall, but I was intimidated. I imagined that Marshall had a lifetime of hot, sweaty, intimate sexual experiences, and I had far too little. The butterflies grew ever more restless, but it was too late to back out now.

I picked correctly when I selected my outfit for the night. Since we were going to a play, I decided to dress up a little more, and I wore a sport jacket along with shined leather dress shoes. Marshall did the same, and my knees wobbled slightly when I saw how handsome he was.

He offered to meet me at my door and drive downtown. That meant that I needed to be prepared in case we ended up inside my small rental house for a nightcap. Fortunately, I’m neat and tidy. Everything was already clean and orderly.

Marshall drove a nice little sports car kept in perfect condition. After I climbed in my side of the car, he leaned across and gave me a kiss. It was just like before except this time the kiss lingered just a little while longer, and Marshall placed one of his hands on my thigh. I grew instantly stiff and knew that my face was flushed, too.

Coming up for air, Marshall said, “And it’s good to see you again, too.”

I placed a hand on his chest and stared into his eyes. I said, “I’ve missed you. From the moment I said goodnight to you I missed you.”

A handsome smile filled his face as he said, “I missed you, too.”

Marshall chose a downtown steakhouse for dinner. It was more elegant than the neighborhood Italian restaurant. I had the sensation of floating above my seat when our wine glasses clinked together to toast our relationship. Marshall matched the stylish surroundings perfectly. It was almost like we were in a movie.

In between courses, Marshall told me stories about his travel adventures. We laughed about his minor mishaps with the local language in various European countries, and I ooh’ed appropriately when he described the beauty of the Greek islands and Sicily. Marshall asked where I traveled.

I said, “I went to London when I was in college, and I’ve been to Mexico and the Caribbean.” I really did love London, and I was able to describe some of the reasons why including the multicultural crowds and the history that seemed to be everywhere.

Marshall was encouraging and a good listener, but I still managed to feel like my life experience was somehow lacking. I knew in my head that he would understand that was due to me being so young, but in my gut it made me less desirable.

We had an hour free between dinner and the start of the play. The restaurant and theater were just a few blocks apart, so we decided to stroll along the Milwaukee River boardwalk in between.

I asked, “Have you lived in Milwaukee your whole life, Marshall?”

He said, “My entire adult life, yes, but I grew up in Kansas.”

“Do you still have family there?”

He said, “I’m not entirely sure.”

I raised an eyebrow and asked, “Not sure?”

He said, “I know it sounds awful, but my parents weren’t really that into parenting. My mom was pregnant with me when she was 17, and as she told me over and over again, my dad married her because his parents insisted on it. When I was three, they divorced. I lived with my mom for nine more years during the school year, but I spent the entire summer with my grandparents on her side.”

I placed a hand on his back and said, “Wow, it sounds like that was tough.”

Marshall shrugged and said, “My dad basically disappeared completely from the picture when I was a teenager, and I moved in with my grandparents full-time beginning when I was twelve. My grandparents died when I was in college, and that’s when my mom disappeared as well. So there might still be distant relatives in Kansas. I just don’t know them. I keep in touch once or twice a year with a couple of cousins out on the east coast, but that’s it for my family.”

I asked, “So you don’t have any relatives that you’re close to?”

He said, “No.”

We stood near one of the bridges watching it go up and down for the traffic on the river. Marshall wrapped an arm around my back and said, “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me, Jordan. It’s just the way it is. It all happened long ago, too. What’s important is what’s going on now. Billy is probably more like a brother to me than any genetic brother could be.”

As he said that, I looked into his eyes and watched his face. Some sort of nerve twitched at the corner of his eye. Dealing with all of the family issues had to be more difficult than Marshall said it was, and the twitch of the eye betrayed the truth.

Marshall asked, “What about you?”

I smiled and said, “I think I’m fortunate. My parents live out in the suburbs, and I have both a brother and a sister in the city. I’m the youngest, and I’m the only one that isn’t married. We all manage to get along.”

“So you have Thanksgiving dinner together every year?”

I echoed, “Every year. It rotates back and forth between my parents’ house and my older sister’s. We have turkey with all the trimmings.”

Marshall nodded and said, “I do miss that.”

The play was serious, but it ended on an upbeat note. I think everyone left the theater with a smile on their face. That included Marshall and me. I said, “Thank you so much for suggesting the play. I loved it and seeing plays live is so different from going to a movie.”

Marshall said, “That’s one of the reasons I love to live in a city. There is a vibrant theater scene. In smaller towns it’s hard to see anything but community and school theater productions.” Then he said, “It’s getting a little late. Is it okay if I drive you home?”

I smiled and said, “Oh, of course it is.” I felt a tingling sensation in the pit of my stomach thinking about climbing back into the car with Marshall.

Before he turned the key in the ignition, we shared a brief kiss, and he gripped my thigh again with his strong hand. This time the fingers shifted slightly more to the inside, and my breath caught in my throat.

The traffic was thin at night, and it was a quick drive south to my rental house. Marshall said, “Look, it’s rock star parking at the curb right in front of your house. You can’t get better service to your door than this.”

I said, “I’m not sure I want to get out immediately,” and I leaned across the front seat to give Marshall another kiss. I wondered if I should have just invited him inside, but he was receptive to the kiss.

I nearly climbed clear across the seat to press my body up against Marshall’s and then I smiled to myself when he tilted his seat back slightly. After seeing it in old movies and TV shows, I had fantasies about making out in a car, but I’d never really had the opportunity.

We kissed hard and hungrily and pressed our bodies together chest to chest. Then I felt Marshall’s hand between my legs and I gasped audibly. He asked, “Is it okay?”

I moaned, “Yes, yes it is,” and I responded by unbuttoning the first two buttons of his shirt. It was enough to make room to slip my hand inside. His chest was smooth, and the muscle was solid and firm. I kneaded at it with my hand while I buried my face in the crook of his shoulder kissing at the side of his neck.

Marshall let out a deep, rumbling moan and then he unbuttoned the top of my pants and slowly slipped the zipper down. The zipper caught three different times before he finally had it down all the way, but the awkwardness only made me more excited. My brain raced in all different directions. I wondered if he was going to stroke me or if he wanted me to suck him. It was clear that he knew what he wanted to do, and I kissed his mouth hard again while I let Marshall lead the way.

Those big, thick fingers slipped inside my boxer briefs and wrapped around my cock. I was hard as a rock, and I began to involuntarily rock my body against Marshall. I pulled open two more buttons of his shirt and kissed his chest.

Various parts of the car poked into my body and threw up barricades to our freedom of movement, but I wanted Marshall. It was possible I would wake up with odd bruises in odd places in the morning, but for the moment it didn’t matter at all. I wasn’t letting anything get in my way.

His fingers quickly brought me to the edge. With a jagged, breathless voice, I grunted, “I’m close already.”

I’ve always been a relatively quick trigger. When I’m on top, I need to take it slow along with stopping and starting or I will blow my wad far too soon. Marshall didn’t stop. He just stroked slowly and relentlessly.

My tongue found his nipple, and I sucked. Marshall rolled his head back moaning, “Oh fuck, yes, do that…” Seconds later I couldn’t stop myself. The train barreled over the crest of the hill and I yelped against his chest.

Marshall gripped the back of my head pulling me upward to kiss me hard and hungrily. Our tongues touched and the sensation made my toes curl. We both pulled back from the kiss to catch our breath, and Marshall said, “That was damn hot, Jordan. I hope you liked it, too.”

I laughed softly and said, “I hope I didn’t make a mess all over your car.” I reached down to try and zip my pants back up and could feel wet and slick cum everywhere. I looked into his face and saw only the dim outline of his sculpted jaw and perfectly shaped nose in the light of the street lamp. I said, “I’ve never cum in a car before.” As I made the comment, my face blushed and grew warm. Fortunately, it was too dark for Marshall to be able to see it.

Marshall said, “Here’s to new experiences. I really like spending time with you, Jordan.”

I buried my face against his strong chest as I said, “It’s great spending time with you, too.”