35 year old; good looking; City slicker; rich; confident; charismatic; cultured; intelligent; a seducer; highly sexed; highly paid; womaniser; love them and leave them; never drinks; non smoker, anti-drugs; sex is the vice!
The Date
Mr Bastard arrives in his blue convertible porsche carrera. He wheel spins into the gravel driveway of the 5 star hotel where we have dinner reservations in the Michelin star restaurant. He is tanned, dreamy blue eyes hidden behind expensive shades, designer suited and booted and looks on top of the world. He greets me with a kiss on both cheeks. A smooth operator. He heads back to the motor, as he claims he's forgotten something. A pop of the boot and a beautiful cream "Edward Goodyear" gift bag is revealed, brimming with blue delphiniums, cream roses and blue thistles. Wow...a man who knows how to buy flowers, designer flowers at that. He tells me he thought the thistles were fitting for my frosty exterior! He has no idea! What was it a guy said about me recently...oh yes, I'm a velvet fist in an iron glove. We sit in the sunshine, I have a kir royale and Mr Bastard has a pineapple juice. Mr Bastard doesn't drink. Hey he doesn't need to, he is high on life...his life! He tells me in no uncertain terms that he is a bastard through and through. All women fall in love with him and he has to shake them off and move onto the next challenge. He's been stalked and is debauched. He's had 3-somes, made his own porn movies at home and dabbled in S+M. I joke that I hope he's left his harness at home or will he be mainly dining on a satsuma for dinner! He tells me about Killing Kittens....elite sex parties for affluent and influential movers and shakers in the city looking for thrills. He tells me they are held in private houses and the rules are wearing a mask, like a masquerade ball. Is he trying to shock me, seduce me or scare me I wonder. None of which is working!!! The waitress brings the menus and asks what name the booking is under, Mr Bastard says "Jones" I pipe up and say I'm "Smith", we're Smith and Jones!!! Cliche! The waitress clocks my flowers and asks if we are celebrating....yes Mr Bastard says...it's our anniversary I excitedly exclaim and my birthday...she wishes me many happy returns and congratulations on our anniversary! Me and Mr Bastard are giggling like idiots...he's a bit of a hoot actually, for a BARSTEWARD! I like the fact that he's straight talking, no claiming to be looking for Miss Right for happy ever after....just looking for thrills and adventure. He suggests to save wasting time on reading the never ending Michelin star menus...we should go for the 10 course taster menu! Great. Decisive, authoritative and manly, and well suited to Mr Bastard for whom variety is clearly the spice of his life. He selects Pink Sancerre from the bible that is the wine list for me. We chit chat some more...he has some funny stories and is very engaging and entertaining. We head for our table, although the waitress tries to guide my enormous bouquet of designer flowers onto reception, I insist on keeping them with me. The restaurant is very formal...and old! Stuffy, stifled, white table cloths, our table resembles a a car boot sale wall paper pasting table flogging cutlery, crockery and glassware...jez and as they place taster course 1 of 10 in front on me and explain in a heavy German accent what it is I'm about to sample of which I am still clueless about, it looks like raspberry sorbet but is actually puree iced beetroot!!!...I look at Mr Bastard and say "where's the salad...but that's the fork I knew!" He laughs...he gets it the Pretty Woman reference. A couple behind us are eavesdropping...as we are loudly laughing and cavorting and having fun! Mr Bastard tells an outrageous joke...similar warped sense of humour to me. He stands up to take his jacket off and drops it on the floor! Another course comes and goes and we start to lose ourselves in our conversation...the surroundings and other dinner guests disappear. Until the couple behind us get eye contact and ask how we met...on the internet I say brazenly....last week! They think I'm joking....so for a fuller effect I follow up with he's married and so I am but not to each other!!! They don't ask any more questions and shortly after they leave! Mr Bastard has a revelation to share with me he thinks I am the female version of him. A woman with a man's mind. Has Mr Bastard met his match. I tell him that he's probably right...I do think like a man....and after all these dates and eat, sleep and breathing all types of men....I feel I'm qualified to say that. Still searching...

PS Once at home curiosity gets the better of me and I check out the The Killing Kittens website it says this "Welcome to Killing Kittens the network to the world's sexual elite!" Killing kittens is a colloquialism for female masturbation and this company is dubbed the underground orgy, sex parties for the beautiful, rich and famous...something tells me Mr Bastard is a regular guest.

Easy is an adjective used to describe a woman who has the sexual morals of a man! Mmm what adjective is used to describe a woman with a man's mind I ponder? Anyway, curiosity killed the cat, didn't it, but then kitty has 9 lives doesn't she?