Six months she'd been using Tinder. And in all that time Sangita had yet to meet a guy she cared to see again. Until tonight.

She stood on the doorstep of her flat. "Thanks for a lovely evening, Jafar."

"The pleasure was all mine, Sangita. We really should do it again."

"How about next weekend?" She blushed. She wasn't normally this forward. But then she hadn't met anyone like Jafar before.

"I can't think of a better way to spend a Saturday evening."

The crimson in Sangita's cheeks intensified.

"Care for a coffee?" She asked, surprising herself.

"Thanks."

She fumbled in her bag for her keys, then fumbled again to open the door. Inside, she made straight for the kitchen, turning on lights as she went.

"Is coffee okay, or would you prefer tea?"

"Coffee's fine."

"Decaf?."

"God, no. Decaf's a bit like a broken pencil."

"Sorry?"

"Pointless."

Sangita laughed. She'd been doing it all evening. "You're so funny."

Usually the guys from Tinder were so stiff and formal. Jafar was different, he'd been cracking jokes all evening.

By the time the drinks were ready, he'd wandered back into the hallway.

"That's my son," Sangita said of the picture Jafar was admiring.

"He has his mom's eyes," Jafar said, taking the coffee. "Bright and alive."

Sangita felt her cheeks flush again.

"Do you miss him?"

"Yeah. He was my whole world. But he's a good man, and I'm proud of him."

"Wish I could say the same about my boy."

"You shouldn't blame yourself, Jafar."

"Who else should I blame then?" He paused then quickly said, "Sorry. I'm sorry. I just get angry when I think about the mess he's made of his life."

"It's okay," Sangita said soothingly.

That was only the third time Jafar had mentioned his son all evening, and each time she could sense his pent up anger. She admired how he managed to control it. That was something he ex-husband had never been able to do. Those brief flashes of emotion told her there was more to him than a constant stream of gags.

"You know, I was just thinking, this is the first time I've had a man in my house that wasn't trying to sell me something for as long as I can remember."

Jafar chuckled, "Well if you're interested we've just had a new line of vacuum cleaners in the shop."

This time they both laughed.

Sangita rested on the edge of the kitchen table, and slipped off her shoes. She sighed. "That's better."

"I'll never understand why women wear shoes that cause them pain."

"I wouldn't expect you to. After all, you're only a man."

"Only a man?" Jafar positioned himself in front of Sangita.

"Only a man. A very charming man..."

Jafar leaned in close.

"And so very..."

He kissed her before she could finish the sentence. She kissed him back. Suddenly, she broke off, gasping, her face flushed.

"I never dreamed I'd meet a man like you through the agency."

"You should see some of the women they paired me up with. I'm the lucky one."

He pulled her to him, kissing her deeply. Then he dragged himself away.

"I shouldn't be doing this," he said.

"Why?"

"It's not right. We only met a few hours ago, and here I am, in your kitchen, kissing you."

All sorts of thoughts jostled for space in Sangita's head, but one shouted louder than all the others. I don't care; kiss me again!

"Don't you think that sometimes, it just feels right?"

"Maybe." He looked at Sangita and smiled. A Hollywood star smile, that lit up his face.

She kissed him again, slipping her tongue into his mouth and entwining it with his.

"I want you. I know it's crazy but I can't help it. I want you." She was breathless with desire. "Right here."

She rapidly undid her blouse buttons, revealing her red satin bra. Jafar stared. With all her buttons open, she set about his shirt, ripping it open. Two of the buttons ripped off and fell on the kitchen floor.

"Sangita, we shouldn't..."

"Shut up and kiss me again."

Jafar appeared to give in. He brought his hands up to her breasts, mauling them, and at the same time locked his lips to hers.

She'd ran her hands down his bare chest, past his stomach, and on to the belt that held up his trousers. She made short work of it, the button and the zip. His trousers fell to the floor. Sangita dug her hands into his boxers, searching for the treasure hidden within.

He had lifted her bra up, exposing her breasts, and he rolled her nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

She had her hands on his cock. It might have been her imagination, or having not felt one I a long time, but his cock felt huge. She stroked it back and forth. At least I haven't forgotten what to do with it, she thought.

Without warning, Jafar abandoned her breasts and moved his hands down to her bum. He lifted her up, sitting her on the table. He tugged at her panties, but she was sitting on them. Finally, desperately, he tore them in two.

She gasped at his forcefulness. "Put it in."

She let go of his cock and he guided into her waiting pussy. In it slid, all the way in one smooth stroke.

He didn't wait. There was no finesse. They were like two animals, each fucking the other like they may never get another chance. It lasted barely two minutes.

When it was over, Jafar moved to stand next to Sangita. "My god. That was good."

Sangita started laughing.

"What? What?"

"I was thinking about what I said earlier, about salesmen."

"Oh?"

"Well I gotta say, that was one sales technique that I never seen before."