After discussing how mundane marriages become and avoiding questions about my personal life, it's clear we're past our sell-by date after ten minutes, never mind ten years. She doesn't want to discuss her husband, and I feel uneasy talking to her.
Despite this, she still seems keen to flirt with me.
In order to fit in with the general ethos of the website I have invented a wife.
Our relationship, I note, has suffered because we don't spend enough time together (not surprising really, since she doesn't exist).
Many of them are middle-class, many have young children.
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.
Your picture can be viewed only if you give a password to the person with whom you are conversing.
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.
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.In the end, we agree to part and she wishes me luck and assures me I'll find the perfect paramour. This was like having a meeting with a new accountant with a helping of self-disgust thrown in.Later on I'm perplexed when she sends me two flirty text messages.I register, and enter the murky world of two-timing technology, taking note of the warning on the site: "Not all affairs have a positive effect on a marriage." What a masterpiece of understatement.I wonder if anyone has ever read this, seen the wisdom of it and decided not to join. "I'm witty, charming, handsome and modest, and I'm kind to animals," I write, hoping this description will have a fairly broad appeal, and also include a recent photograph.It may sound like an unpleasant niche website for a handful of amoral people to whom wedding vows never meant very much.