But we were just talking

“So how do you like being taken from behind?” he asked.

“Oh, I can do back arched, bent over a desk or toilet seat, if you like,” I answered, with a sexy wink.

‘What about on all fours and looking back at me?”

“Alright too. But only if you reach over and stimulate my pussy with your fingers.” I said.

“Fingers are good. Are you a self-satisfaction kind of girl though?”

“Now and then, if I need a quick fix. I’m pretty dexterous. Would you like to watch me do it?”

This is the third time Danny and I have met to discuss our sexual preferences. In public. Under the most chaste of settings – lunching at the nearby food court, sitting on a public park bench, having a quick drink in a crowded bar.

Don’t get me wrong - fingers have strayed and appendages have been fondled but our individual personal circumstances prevent us from actualising the full extent of our depraved fantasies. So for now, we just content ourselves with discussing positions and predilections, sometimes with almost fanatical detail.

The “sex” is stellar, of course. I have multiple orgasms, he has multiple erections. We never have trouble with the police. Neighbours never complain. We have complete disregard for personal health and protection. And concepts like “sore”, “headache” or “have to get up early” are completely unthinkable.

That said, all talk and no action makes me a dull girl (and this a dull blog!) But it’s a bit like going through an entire degustation menu and having no space for dessert. I’m sure the sex - if or when it happens - will be a complete anticlimax. Stay tuned.