This story is my true account of my first bisexual experience. I am a 60-year-old married man who has been in a sexless marriage for several years. I would describe myself as a decent-looking, masculine man—just under six feet tall, with an athletic build, short brown hair, and no facial hair or tattoos.

The lack of intimacy in my marriage, combined with my extremely high sex drive, has been driving me absolutely crazy. I’ve spent countless hours on the internet, searching various sites in an attempt to satisfy my sexual desires. All that time online has led me to explore sexual acts that once seemed taboo—acts I never would have considered, let alone experienced, in the past.

Recently, I reconnected with a friend I hadn’t spoken to in over ten years. Back then, our kids played on the same sports team, but after a few seasons, his child stopped playing and we fell out of touch. My friend is also a married man, about 6'4", in excellent athletic shape, and well respected in his profession as a white-collar worker.

After running into each other, he texted me to say it was good to see me again. We exchanged messages and caught up on the events of the past decade, mostly sharing stories about our families. In one text, he mentioned that his wife was premenopausal and their sex life was suffering because of it. I tried to offer my sympathy, letting him know I'd heard that was common and, without revealing too much, that I was facing a similar situation. My wife and I's sex life was, and still is, nonexistent.

He suggested we meet for coffee sometime soon, and about a week later, we met at a local Starbucks. We sat in a quiet corner, chatting and reminiscing about old times. I showed him some family photos on my phone, and he did the same. As I was browsing through his pictures, a photo of his wife in a bikini appeared. She is in excellent shape and a very attractive woman, so I commented, "Wow! That's a nice picture of [his wife's name]."

He quickly grabbed his phone, somewhat embarrassed, saying, "You weren't supposed to see that one."

I reassured him it was no big deal and not at all revealing. We briefly discussed how she looks great for someone in her mid-fifties, which led back to the topic of his inability to enjoy her sexually. I empathized, telling him I understood exactly how he felt.

There was a lull in the conversation when he suddenly said, "What the heck, you already kind of saw them anyway." He handed me his phone and let me see more pictures—this time, they were of his wife with her breasts exposed and her face hidden. I admitted the photo was impressive and asked if it was really [his wife's name]. He confirmed it was, and offered to show me more, saying that although their sex life was lacking, he at least had plenty of photos to enjoy.

We agreed that Starbucks was not the best place for this and decided to go to my nearby office for more privacy. As it was the weekend, the building was empty. In my office, he handed me his phone again and let me browse a collection of photos stored in a secret app. I complimented his wife’s appearance, and as I continued commenting, he suddenly stood up, pulled down his pants, and began stroking his erect penis in front of me. He asked if I was okay with it, explaining that watching me admire the pictures excited him. Nervous but curious, I said it was fine.

It was my first time being so close to another man in such an intimate situation. His penis was impressive—large, clean-shaven, smooth, with a prominent head and no foreskin. He told me his balls and even his backside were waxed because he liked the smooth feeling.

After a while, he invited me to join him by pulling down my own pants. I hesitated, feeling nervous, but eventually exposed myself and gave myself a few strokes. He admired my size, then asked if he could touch me, which I allowed. Wrapping his hand around my shaft, he stroked it a few times before surprising me by taking it in his mouth. The sensation was intense, and I warned him I was close to climax. He continued, and I ejaculated in his mouth.

Feeling that I should reciprocate, I took his penis in my hand and stroked it, aiming to bring him to orgasm. He grunted that he was about to cum and released a large amount onto my desk.

Afterward, we both felt embarrassed and quickly cleaned up. We tidied the office and then went to the restroom for a more thorough cleanup. He left, and I finished tidying up the room before heading home.

That night, as the guilt faded, I reflected on the experience—how incredible it felt and how I wished I hadn't let guilt ruin the moment. I also regretted not having taken the opportunity to reciprocate orally.

We didn’t contact each other for about two weeks afterward. Eventually, he texted me again to check in, and we agreed to meet up soon. In the meantime, he suggested I create a Kik account so we could chat discreetly. Before long, we began texting every evening after our spouses had gone to bed.

During those conversations, he guided me toward feeling more comfortable with the idea of bisexual experiences and encouraged my curiosity about exploring new kinds of intimacy. Within a couple of weeks, we agreed to meet again to look at more pictures of his wife. This time, we met in his garage. I walked in and sat down on a rolling stool while he handed me his phone, showing another set of photos of his wife for me to scroll through.

After handing me his phone, he lowered his athletic shorts, revealing himself. I became instantly aroused. He asked if I wanted to try what I had expressed interest in during our nightly Kik chats. Without hesitation, I reached over and began to stroke him, gradually moving closer. He let me go at my own pace without pressuring me, which helped me feel more at ease.

I couldn’t hold back, nor did I want to in that moment. I took him into my mouth as far as I could until I gagged. After a few seconds, I pulled back and continued stroking. My mind raced with disbelief at what I was doing, struggling to process the reality of the situation. After about a minute, he climaxed, and we quickly cleaned up, both feeling a wave of guilt. We parted ways without saying much.

We avoided messaging for about two weeks after that. Once the guilt faded and the excitement returned, we resumed our regular evening conversations on Kik. He continued helping me become more comfortable with bisexual exploration, and after a few weeks, I found myself eager for our next meeting. More on that later.