SA2 is only 25 years old but Lovey, who is not looking for a shag, says that if I was looking for a shag SA2 is who she’d suggest.
        ‘He is very mature for his age’ she writes ‘gives great neck massages and grows his own 100% organic weed in his closet. Best stuff I ever had.’
        She also thoroughly enjoyed the fact that he can get harder and stay harder for longer than the men in our end thirties age range.
        I’m not looking for a shag but as SA2 comes so warmly recommended, we exchange only a couple of mails before we set up a date.
        I dress up in tight top, mini skirt and stockings. The very last moment I throw a big, loose coat over it all. It is good to be prepared for a ‘seducing the kid’ situation, but it is even better to be prepared for a ‘would not want to touch this boy if he was the last one on earth’ scenario.
        He is twenty minutes late and looks like coming straight from a weeding session in his closet. His face is a big chin and a big nose and big eyes drooping alongside the nose onto the chin. He smells of unwashed clothes, smoke and a mixture of pimples and teenage skin cleaning products.
        The coat was the right decision!
        We walk through Hyde Park, commenting on weather, trees, tourists and squirrels until we find a place to buy burgers and coke for a picnic. He carefully counts out enough money to cover his half and patiently waits while I search for my purse.
        It is awkward to sit down on the grass in my outfit. I’m glad I have the coat to cover my legs and the bits my mini skirt doesn’t hide efficiently and which could be seen if I didn’t bend my legs at the right angle.
        We munch our burgers while in a slow drawl, quietly, almost as if talking to himself he gives a speech on his weed growing technique. He has been cultivating the stuff ever since he moved to London three years ago because he has allergies (the real reason for the pimples) and finds it impossible to get clean, uncut marihuana in the UK. He has used drugs ever since his doctors prescribed tranquillisers when he was over active at the age of twelve. Neither doctors nor drugs could stop him from skipping two classes in high school and from obtaining his university degree in computer sciences at the age of twenty. He is currently married to a 38-year-old woman from South Africa who needed a permit of residency in the UK. He hasn’t seen her for months and is wondering if he can start divorce proceedings without her.
        I listen politely but become more and more uncomfortable about constantly having to rearrange legs and coat. Eventually I give up and lie down, using the coat as a blanket and my handbag as a pillow.
        He is now talking about the new job he is going to start soon. He is always offered jobs as he is on top of the two most exclusive head-hunter lists in the UK and the US. As a sought after IT something he must make about ten times as much money as I do.
        Why the fuck didn’t he offer to pay for my burger?
        He can stuff his hard cock up his own ass I think as his monologue moves on to details about the night with Lovey – what a hot woman that is – and other pleasant sexual memories.
        His voice mingles with the shouts of children playing football, the proud murmurs of their parents and grand parents, the twitter of sparrows in the trees and the clatter of horses trotting along gravel paths.
        When I wake up, he is asleep next to me. The sun has disappeared and I’m cold so I wake him and we stroll back to the tube station.
        ‘Nice meeting you’, I say.
        ‘Yeah, very nice,’ he replies. ‘And if you need something sexual just let me know. I’m not gonna start anything, but if you want, I’d be happy to ...
        I’m on the bus before he has finished the sentence.

Lessons learned:
        1) Young men, no matter how high their IQ, are too young for me.
        2) Don’t take advice from strange women online.