A few years ago, I lived in another city for a year, sharing an apartment with an older gentleman. On the same floor, there was another apartment with an older gay couple, as my roommate would emphasize, warning me to keep my distance.

As it turned out, I kept running into them in the stairwell, both together and separately, and they were two gentlemen in their fifties, very well-mannered and polite. I thought they might be interested in me, judging by the way we exchanged glances, but it could have been just my imagination.

One afternoon, we bumped into each other at the supermarket, and we started chatting about the groceries while walking down the aisles. "We need to get milk," said Luis, 58 years old. "Yes, at our age, we run out of milk," Enrique, 59, replied, winking at me. I told them that happens at any age, and I had already passed by the milk section, showing them the soy milk I had in my bag. "No, real milk, no substitutes," Enrique said, and I defended soy milk, saying it's very healthy. He joked, "We prefer real milk; you heteros are something else!" It was a hint I hadn't caught, and I smiled at their amusement.

We were in the wine aisle, and they wanted to pick a couple of bottles. We chose one from a promising winery, and they had a good taste in wine. We left the supermarket and headed home, chatting about how I was adapting to living with my grumpy roommate, how long they had been married, and how long I had been single. They weren't surprised that my bisexuality was a secret (they appreciated my honesty), and Luis leaned in close, whispering, "Your secret is safe with us." I felt a shiver down my spine as I sensed his breath near my ear.

We entered the stairwell, and Enrique told me they were going to start preparing dinner and open one of the wine bottles. They invited me to join them, and I felt very comfortable with the couple. We entered their apartment, and I sat in the middle of a three-seater sofa in the dining room. Luis uncorked a bottle of wine, and Enrique brought three glasses. They served the wine and sat on either side of me, forgetting about the dinner they were going to prepare. By the way they looked at me while we chatted, I was certain I was the main course.

As we sipped our wine, we had a relaxed conversation, and I told them why I moved, my favorite TV shows, how long I had been single, and how long it had been since I last had sex. What they were really interested in was how long it had been since I was with a man, not a woman. They told me how they met at an SM club, and the conversation turned to sex. Luis liked being tied up, and Enrique was more dominant, although they took turns. "But when we were younger, now we just get a little," Enrique said, and they told me they liked to share a young guy occasionally. They were on a gay dating site, but it was hard for two older men to find someone my age.

I replied that I wasn't that young, already in my th...