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Her photograph reveals that the hour has stretched to 90 minutes.I'm already starting to feel like I've had enough of this experiment.In the end, we agree to part and she wishes me luck and assures me I'll find the perfect paramour. This was like having a meeting with a new accountant with a helping of self-disgust thrown in.Later on I'm perplexed when she sends me two flirty text messages.In order to fit in with the general ethos of the website I have invented a wife.Our relationship, I note, has suffered because we don't spend enough time together (not surprising really, since she doesn't exist).I reply, telling her to come over and ask me face to face. She looks furtively around and asks me if I'm nervous. There is tension in the air like North and South Korea coming together to hammer out a treaty.
Reading it on my laptop in the aptly named Cafe Affaire in central London, I consider what she really wants: a no-strings-attached sexual relationship.
What I don't know is how her husband will feel about it. Aside from the little matter of her marital status, she also believes I have a wife, but she doesn't care.
She wants instant gratification even though we've exchanged only a few words online.
Reading between the lines, I suspect she wants to meet again.
Sadly, I feel I have got all I want out of our brief relationship - two cups of coffee and a short conversation - and it's time to move on and find someone new.
So I paid £119 for a month's membership, giving me an entre to thousands of faithless females.