It was Friday evening, and although we were quite early it wasn’t completely empty. The waiter looked at us a bit reluctantly- this wasn’t really ... scruffy pauper kinda place. “A table for two?” he asked formally, his sneer betraying his professionalism. We shed our coats and the brolly but I clung to my rucksack nervously. No way was I leaving my bag by the door. The waiter took two menus and led us to a small table off to the side out the way anyway. On the table there was a small tea candle. I parked up and called him. He came and met me in the street and we walked about 100 metres back to his pad, making small talk. As we got to his house, we went straight up into his room. He was chatting away, but I was too nervous to listen carefully enough to what he was saying. He put some music on his laptop and lowered the blinds half way. He then stood in front of me and started running his hands over my chest and back as we kissed. He ushered me down to my knees and unbuckled his belt. He. More

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