She wants instant gratification even though we've exchanged only a few words online.
And all of them are looking for an opportunity to betray their spouses. But I wanted to find out what sort of woman uses such a site.
So I paid £119 for a month's membership, giving me an entre to thousands of faithless females.
The idea is presumably to safeguard people from searching for their own spouses on the site - though how a husband would explain to his errant wife how he came to stumble across her picture on a website for adulterers, I don't know.
In order to fit in with the general ethos of the website I have invented a wife.
Reading it on my laptop in the aptly named Cafe Affaire in central London, I consider what she really wants: a no-strings-attached sexual relationship.
What I don't know is how her husband will feel about it. Aside from the little matter of her marital status, she also believes I have a wife, but she doesn't care.We have encountered one another via an internet dating service established for the sole purpose of enabling married people to commit adultery.It may sound like an unpleasant niche website for a handful of amoral people to whom wedding vows never meant very much.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 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.