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As promised, I went straight home after coffee with an envelope of cash and never saw him again. All I clung to for security was faith in my own judgment of character following a few Skype chats and one trusted friend to whom I had sent his details. Thankfully he was as good-looking and interesting in the flesh as he was on my computer screen, and we spent two wonderful days together.Then I accepted a trip to New York with a fortysomething Canadian property investor. He took me to Prada and bought so much that I had to buy another suitcase.At first I was horrified, and deleted such messages which filled my inbox. But then I learnt that one of my dates – a handsome 45-year-old energy trader – paid all the other girls he went out with for the evening.The non-exclusivity didn’t bother me – but I felt a mug for providing for free what he would have been willing to pay for.But after three years on these dating sites, I stopped.I realised that my motivations had slowly shifted to monetary gain.Even then, the idea of taking cash felt so irksome to both parties that we did it in the form of a monthly loaded store card from Selfridges.He was a hedge-fund manager in the City and physically attractive, but a ski trip to Colorado put me off him for good.
The allowances and gifts, which were once a happy bonus of my adventures, had become my main motivation.I went on as many dates with men in their mid-forties or above as I could arrange.My dates began offering gifts – and monthly cash allowances – to see them on a more regular basis.I realise some readers may be shocked by what I am about to divulge, or even consider that what I did and other women do on these sites is tantamount to prostitution.I know I am setting myself up for widespread condemnation – but allow me to explain.