Reading between the lines, I suspect she wants to meet again.

Sadly, I feel I have got all I want out of our brief relationship - two cups of coffee and a short conversation - and it's time to move on and find someone new.

Postings such as: "I want a man who can look after me and knows how to treat a woman. I'm surprised and unsettled by the forward tone of some of the material. Determined to avoid the connotations, I reply: "The Beatles." I never hear from her again.

After a quick search, I get the measure of the women on the site.

"My preference is for a man who is much younger than me with rugged features," says one. This is a way of paying someone a compliment without typing out the words. And over the course of a week I get almost 100 replies, messages and propositions.

This is how I find myself waiting for "Sophia Loren".

She seems rather on edge and sends me a text message at the time we're due to meet asking why I'm using the website.

I feel sorry for her husband, presumably unaware that the mother of his children is pursuing cheap thrills with strangers.

By now, I have been contacted by scores of women, so I arrange dates with the ones who are prepared to meet me in the next few days. Blonde, slim and relaxed, she has already told me by email that she's been married for ten years, has young children, time on her hands and wants to add a frisson of excitement to her life.

But in the modern world, in which the internet has become a vehicle for all manner of impropriety, she regards this kind of behaviour as perfectly acceptable.

We have encountered one another via an internet dating service established for the sole purpose of enabling married people to commit adultery.

I reply, telling her to come over and ask me face to face. She looks furtively around and asks me if I'm nervous. There is tension in the air like North and South Korea coming together to hammer out a treaty.

Suddenly the realisation of how odd it is to meet a stranger with the express intention of having an affair dawns on me. It's more like Alan Sugar interviewing an apprentice.

It may sound like an unpleasant niche website for a handful of amoral people to whom wedding vows never meant very much.