I was saying that I lost my virginity to him two weeks after meeting him. I suppose you’re wanting an explanation of this somewhat extraordinary statement. It’s just not worth the bother. Therefore, feel free to fit us both into any convenient category of human behaviour. Rest assured, I will not complain. Complaining, I find, is the refuge of the weak and unimaginative who have neither the courage to put up with shit nor the wherewithal to get out of it.

However I will answer the usual round of questions.

1. Yes, he is married.

2. Yes, I knew it.

3. Yes, he’s a horny old man. Exactly 23 years older than me, if you like precise figures.

4. Yes, I am Asian-Chinese, if you also enjoy precise descriptions. And I therefore qualify, as my little brother pointed out with a shudder, as an SPG.

5. No, he didn’t dump me after one night of sex … BUT!

6. Yes, the relationship is pretty much all about sex.

By the way, yes, you are free to join my brother and think of me as an SPG. I like the phrase “Sarong Party Girl” really. Wear a sarong, go out and party. Of course, the SPG’s reason for wearing a sarong-or whatever conveniently unwrappable dress is in fashion these days-and going to a party is usually to pick up a White Man. Whether or not this was my specific intention while partying in a sarong, I’m not bothering to clarify. You are perfectly free to draw your own conclusions about me, as I am of you.

I became Pierre’s mistress without intending to. What I was intending was to do was sleep with him so as to get rid of my tiresome virginity, which had been left stubbornly on my hands for 26 years.

I was telling you Pierre had a cock like a battering ram. A virgin pussy becomes deeply startled when faced with the prospect of penetration by a battering ram. A pulse of sheer panic raced up and down me when the whole bulk of it emerged from between the silver teeth of his zipper.