If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen...

One of the nicest internet dating experiences I had was with a boy who I simply think of as The Chef. We met at the ICA bar for our first date. And we had almost nothing in common. Oh, except just one thing... utter, insane lust.

It was completely unlike any other internet date I've ever had. Because generally it's the other way around - you think you'll have lots in common, then you actually meet each other and realise there is absolutely no chemistry there at all. With this one, we realised the chemistry right off. And it was explosive.

When I walked in, I clocked him immediately. Totally my type, I thought. Though I'm not sure whose type isn't tall, utterly gorgeous, feline boys with strong arms and melty eyes. But the good news was that he clearly dug curvy little blondes with big blue eyes, so we were on, baby, on. I have no idea what was talked about - because about 5 minutes into the date he started idly running his fingers up my arm. He was a chef by profession, so had burn marks on his arms, but - oh - those arms, just strong and muscled and utterly gorgeous.

We left the bar eventually, to find it was torrential rain outside. Neither of us had an umbrella, so he just grabbed me, and started passionately kissing me against the wall, ostensibly to keep us dry. Reader, I got wet... No, not like that, you filthy-minded wretches, just that the rain was driving at an angle. Honestly.

With the kiss, the strong arms came into their own and he almost crushed me - something that shouldn't have been sexy, but just was. I refused to go home with him, mainly because I think I had a big meeting the next day or something tedious. But saw him again a couple of times afterwards, and eventually went over to his and got naked. May I just say that naked this man was even hotter than clothed? No? Well, let me tell you now... he was.

Can I just add, too, that he had The Lines. (If you don't know what that means, you've not been meeting the right men. The sex lines are those jutting hip bones that just beg you to touch them, inviting you down to what is beneath the trouser line. Mmm hmmm). Wasn't disappointed there either: huge cock. Shame was... he had no idea what to do with it, and the whole thing was over in minutes. Yawn.

Then, afterwards, he confidently said 'You came.'

I replied 'Not this evening, I didn't.'

He looked very put out. I suggested we had supper. He said he had no food in the house. I exclaimed 'But you're a chef!' He looked even more put out, shocked almost, like I'd just asked for him to don a gimp suit or something equally inappropriate. So I went to sleep, woke up hungry, and still horny, so slunk off and never saw him again. Well, you can't date someone who's rubbish in bed, whose chat is basically appalling and - worst of all - who knows how to make incredible food but doesn't make it for you, can you?

Some of the best kissing of my life though. Fact.

And just as a postscript, I still avoid the {insert name of fabulously fashionable gastropub here} too. Would just be weird to pay a man to cook for you whose coq (au vin, ha!) you've already sampled, don't you think?