We chatted a bit a few months ago but honestly, I couldn’t be bothered to go meet someone at 10pm in a hotel, even though it was down the road. I know I know, past me would have been all over it.

So when he messages and asks what I’m up to one Friday night my excitement piques. He’s across the other side of town but willing to come over. I’m horny and intrigued so this time it’s a yes.

I rarely do this anymore – there are too many risks and pitfalls. Maybe my gut this time knows.

He arrives and comes upstairs. And for the rest of the night, I am worshipped. Every inch of me is kissed, even my toes. His lips, his hands are all over me and it’s intoxicating for sure. I could get used to this. He goes down on me and I come multiple times. His fingers explore inside and jab at me – his hands are huge, and his fingers seem to know exactly what I am craving. There is no urgency to this encounter, no rush. In fact, he even tells me he’s staying all night. I don’t argue.

He’s like a gentle giant towering over me, whispering compliments and stroking my skin. It’s quite a change from wham bam thankyou ma’am which is my usual visitor profile. He leaves at around 6am, telling me he’s off on the road for a month and needs to get a flight, he’s back in a month.

Stupidly, I rearranged my own life to be able to see him again. A few days before we are due to meet, the bombshell comes – he’s married but still wants to see me. When the day comes, it doesn’t quite work out. And then a second bombshell: he accuses me of giving him an STD. Readers, you know the drill by now, we don’t mess about and use condoms. Impossible.

I take a test as soon as I can, as does he. We are both negative. I tell him if he has pain in his stomach and balls he needs to see a GP, it’s nothing to do with me. I report and block him.

This episode puts me off men altogether for 5 months.