So, I drove towards his house. I had only been there once before but I remembered the way. I had deleted the details from my sat-nav. The devious nature of hiding my tracks was not lost on me. I was concerned that it fit so well, that I slipped into it, remembered it - that I indulged and delighted in it. Over the last few weeks I had taken to deleting emails, removing texts and turning my phone on silent. Yes, I had permission but I knew I needed to be discreet. The veil of concealment (however thin it might be) is most certainly very, very erotic.

He met me outside his house, and directed me to walk upstairs to his bedroom. He walked behind. I knew he was looking up my dress.

I had selected my clothes carefully that night. A black dress, black coat, a red scarf, black stockings, gorgeous red shoes and a cream bra and panties set. The ones I wore on my wedding night. How Machiavellian?!

His room was huge. The bed over to one side with an enormous expanse of cream carpet leading to his dressing room and en-suite. I took off my coat and unwound my scarf. He lead me over to the bed and sat next to me. "So, here you are." I looked at him sitting there and thought, what the fuck am I doing? I nodded. "Your husband does not like it much. You are here, though..." He traced my cheek with his finger and smiled a wry smile. One that I knew. I had smiled that smile many times.

Every time I seduced someone and pulled them into a space they did not want to be in. Every time I had made a man want me so much he forgot who he was. Every time I had glanced the right glances, licked my lips, flicked my hair, touched his arm, built his ego, whispered the right words and there he was, needing something desperately that he didn't know he needed until I told him he did. There is a delicious moment where I know he is there because I wanted it, chose it, designed it, created it. Our eyes meet and in that second he knows it too. Then I smile that smile. That smile says I own you. In this moment I fucking own you.

He needed to know that although our game was cat and mouse, I was mouse because I chose to be, not because he chose it for me. I looked square at him and held his gaze, my voice low and soft. "I know the game. I wrote the script. I am here, giving control to you because I choose to - not because you want it. I don't care what you want. I am here for what I want." He raised his eyebrows. He laughed. He said "We will see. So you are sure?" I took a deep breath and replied, "Yes." In that moment my fate was sealed.