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Porn knew she was a cut above the rest. She wore the smartest of clothes and managed to get her hair silky and shining like something out of a shampoo commercial. Her face and body conformed to the stereotype of the kind of woman you can look at but can't get. It was a stereotype she seemed keen to perpetuate too. She was the kind of woman who might sit all night in a bar sipping a cherry coke as if her perfect little mouth had never held a cock.

I still had traces of youthfulness then when I met her. I was only a few girlfriends in and was getting that first sense that afflicts all of us from time to time that maybe, just maybe, I wanted something better and more meaningful in my life. Fate stepped right up as Porn's good friend came and started chatting me up on her behalf. "My friend she likes you."

"Does she ?" I said and glanced over at Porn who smiled back at me before looking down as if embarrassed. "I like her too."

"I tell her you meet with her okay ?"

"Yeah sure."

"You know Grace Hotel ?"

"Yes."

"Okay... She meet you in the coffee shop at three."

And as ridiculous as it may sound considering that I was sitting in the middle of the Soi Cowboy I felt the same kind of flush of hope and desire that I'd felt when I was younger still... Back when I believed in stupid ideas like love and the soulmates and all that kind of crap.

The Grace coffee shop was full of Arabs and fat Thai women who'd had nose jobs that made them look like stuffed birds. Porn was sitting there like a queen ignoring any man who might offer to buy her a drink. When I sat with her I could feel the stares of pissed off men but I didn't give a crap. I was with Miss Perfect.

She had a sweet voice and talked about nothing at all as if it was something. She told me about the friend who knew she liked me but would never speak to me. I asked her why she liked me and she said because I looked nice; I looked gentle.

We drank and then drank some more. Soon she was telling me about how her father had chucked her out of his house when she had an affair with a married man and how, for a while, she had been willing to do almost anything to make some money. Then, out of the blue, she said "You want to go somewhere else ?"

"Yeah..." I said.

"You know the Playboy Hotel ?"

I was surprised she knew the Playboy because the only time I'd been there before was with some girl from the Nana Plaza who had pierced body parts. Maybe it was somewhere she knew from when she'd been willing to do almost anything to make money. Or maybe it was simply because it was close by.

All the way there I was on fire. I felt I was with a woman who hailed from a world that was somehow finer.

In our room we kissed for a while and I felt hotter and hotter. We took a shower together and held her elegant slim body close as the water splattered around us. Then we went back to the bed and nakedly we kissed some more and then we fucked. As deep as I pushed inside her I couldn't feel a thing. I didn't even touch the sides. It was like fucking an elephant (albeit one with silky smooth skin and the body of a fashion model). I fucked for an age but I couldn't come. She didn't come either.

I was gutted. I figured that it was simply one of those things. A mismatch. A bad fit. But she didn't let me go. She held my hand to her cunt. I slipped in a finger, then another, then another, then another, soon I had my entire hand inside her up to the knuckle. Then, and only then, she let out a little moan.

Now, obviously, when you have to ram your entire fist inside a woman in order to get any kind of response at all your manhood does feel under question. But then with my hand inside her twisting ever so slightly she not only started responding; she started screaming... In a good way. As I eased my fingers deeper and deeper inside her she thrashed around slamming her fists against the bed and groaning like a woman about to give birth. Her legs thrashed and stiffened, kicked out and stiffened. She seemed to have no more control over her body than an animal with a slit throat.

When she came it was like she'd died and slipped into some other realm. But then she came miraculously back to life and started sucking my cock with incredible zeal as if trying to pay me for something.

Afterwards we both lay there and I found it hard to believe I'd been with such a beautiful elegant woman and seen her out of control. The experience fucked me up in a number of ways. In fact despite the bad fit I kept seeing her for weeks. I even found myself buying her gold and doing all the other stupid shit you do when you fall for someone.

It ended quite casually. We were sitting on the bed of my apartment and she was painting her toenails. I remember the acrid smell of nail varnish and the little fluffed balls of cotton wool between her toes. Suddenly she said she couldn't see me for a few weeks.

"Why ?" I said hearing a crack in my own voice.

"Sorry na." She started looking up from her nails and fixing me with a glance. "You not angry me okay."

"I don't know... Do I have something to be angry about."

"Have my boyfriend. Him come from Canada. Very big man. You know... He's not a young man but he's very big man. Big more than you. But him jealous too much. You know ? He love me. I love you and I don't want something bad to happen to you."

"Oh."

"Him send me money every month. Him pay my apartment. Him take care me everything. I can't lose him. Him rich man more than you."

She held my eyes for a few painful moments and then went back to painting her toenails as if all this was no big deal. I almost said something about loving her. I almost said something about promising to take care of her myself but I caught myself just in time. I realised that I was just another dumb fuck. I'd gone for the pretty face like the most naive newcomer in town. And the crazy thing was that I almost completely forgot that she had a cunt like the Mersey Tunnel.