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have second thoughts. What if he looked nothing like his photographs in real life? That was what people always complained about on the internet. I went back to his profile and studied his photographs more closely. There was no date anywhere to indicate how old they were. Then I thought to read his profile properly. He’d looked so hot in his photos I’d only glanced at what he’d written. Thankfully, there was nothing off-putting listed and several things cited that fuelled my excitement. Apparently, he was Extra Large.
    Then I started to worry about security. Was it safe to let a complete stranger into the apartment? Should I go downstairs and talk to him on the street, make sure that I felt comfortable with him, before asking him upstairs? Then I remembered that the building had video camera security. I would be able to assess his looks before I let him in.
    Suddenly, it struck me that he said he’d be over in fifteen minutes and I’d just wasted five of those minutes when I should have been investing them in my appearance. I hadn’t even taken a shower. I dashed into the bathroom, then realised that I’d better sit on the toilet; after all I had invited the guy over to fuck me. That took another five minutes. I had a very quick shower, gargled and sprayed on some cologne. There was no time to shave. I hurried into the bedroom and surveyed the contents of my wardrobe. Even if it wasn’t going to stay on for very long, I still wanted to create a stylish impression. Thankfully my favourite underwear—red Aussie Bum—was fresh from the wash. As I slipped into those, the doorbell rang. I couldn’t believe it. Queens were always fashionably late; except if there was cock involved, then they were scrupulously punctual.
    I dashed across to answer it and there he was on the video intercom, looking just like the photos on his profile. He winked. ‘So, am I allowed in?’ he asked with a sexy grin.
    He was giving me a hard-on. ‘Sure, come on up,’ I said, buzzing him in.
    I hurried back to the bedroom and put on a pair of army shorts and a singlet. I scrutinised myself in the mirror and fussed with my hair. I wasn’t particularly satisfied, but then my doorbell rang, so it had to do. I took a quick glance at him through the spy hole, once again felt reassured by his appearance, and opened the door. ‘Hey,’ he said gruffly.
    He didn’t have a girlie voice. He wasn’t really short or badly dressed. All of the things that might have been wrong with him in the flesh weren’t. He was as sexy in real-life as he’d appeared in his photos. I just stood staring at him, completely forgetting about standing aside and ushering him in. HotBloke grinned. ‘So, am I okay? Do I pass?’
    I felt myself blush. ‘Sorry, yes, come in. It’s just I haven’t done this before … met someone off the computer …’
    ‘So you’re like a virgin at this and you want me to be gentle?’ he laughed.
    I blushed again. I suppose it had sounded like a line. ‘Can I get you a drink or something?’ I asked.
    ‘I’ll take the “or something”,’ he said, running a hand over my butt. ‘Nice.’
    He pulled me to him and began to kiss me deeply. I peeled off his tee shirt and ran an admiring hand over his muscular chest. ‘Let’s go to the bedroom,’ he suggested and he surprised me by leading me there.
    It seemed he already knew the lay-out of these apartments. Perhaps he had a friend in the building, or more likely, had hooked up with someone in the building. I was getting the sense that he’d done this many times before, which was making me feel a little uncertain. ‘Um, on your profile, you mentioned something about bondage and before we get started, I should warn you that …’
    ‘Bondage? Really? I filled in that thing so long ago, I honestly couldn’t tell you what boxes I ticked. I don’t like questionnaires much … but I do like arse,’ he said, squeezing his hand down the back of my shorts and beneath my