But she is an old hand at this type of encounter and tells me she's met many men through the site, and that I was probably the only one who hadn't lied about my age."Sophia" tells me she thinks relationships have a shelf life of about ten years before boredom sets in, but that she stays married to ensure her children have a stable home.
But in the modern world, in which the internet has become a vehicle for all manner of impropriety, she regards this kind of behaviour as perfectly acceptable.We have encountered one another via an internet dating service established for the sole purpose of enabling married people to commit adultery.So I paid £119 for a month's membership, giving me an entre to thousands of faithless females.They are allowed to sign up for free as a way of ensuring the numbers are balanced between the sexes.It may sound like an unpleasant niche website for a handful of amoral people to whom wedding vows never meant very much.
But it claims to have more than 100,000 members in the UK.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.Suddenly the realisation of how odd it is to meet a stranger with the express intention of having an affair dawns on me. It's more like Alan Sugar interviewing an apprentice. "I want a man with a personality and looks to take my breath away." These are the requirements of the dark-haired, dark-eyed, 37-year-old Asian beauty who has sent me her romantic wish list.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.After discussing how mundane marriages become and avoiding questions about my personal life, it's clear we're past our sell-by date after ten minutes, never mind ten years. She doesn't want to discuss her husband, and I feel uneasy talking to her.