I saw your profile on the website, with nothing more than your age (34) and home city (the place I work). "How interesting," I thought, and pinged a quick hello. You got back to me straight away and sent some pictures - they showed a fun person with a serious side, who might share some interests with me. And we almost met for a drink that Friday evening, but our messages passed each other and I'd gone home by the time I realised you were available.
So on Monday morning, I sent a note suggesting we meet for lunch. In the end it was 2.30 before you reached the city centre - and we lost some minutes looking for each other at Central Station! But then you found me - looking a bit different to your pictures with your hair up - taller than I expected, in fact; wrapped up against the cold.
I took you to ExKi for a cup of tea, and we discussed what we were looking for, like mature adults do. I told you what I could afford, and how often; you looked thoughtful and said that would be OK for you. You like sex, you said, and you like a bit more money without playing the dating game. That's why we were both on the website, after all.
By this stage you had taken your coat off, and I liked what I saw - an extra kilo for comfort, perhaps, but I could tell that you work out, and that you are very comfortable in your own body. Your clothes didn't show your figure but I could see that you had a lot of sexy body.
If you agreed in principle, I said, why don't we start in practice right away? From my phone, I could tell that the hotel across the road had a room free. You were startled at the thought that we might start fucking within an hour of meeting; but I could tell that you liked the idea, and you seriously agreed.
I booked the hotel online, we went to the bank to collect your fee, and picked up our room key from the concierge, who obviously knew exactly what we were up to. Our room was freezing; we warmed each other up with hugs while I slowly undressed you. Your body was just what I hoped for, brown and sweet.