12 hours ago
I was starved of touch and desperate for connection... so I moved to Paris. This is the racy, no-holds barred account of my summer with a string of much younger lovers - and the lessons I learned about sex
A sunny Sunday in a park in Paris, where I have been for over two weeks. Overhead the sky is blue, the light filtering through the trees is golden and on my phone are messages I have exchanged with a man whose name and face I do not know.
We matched on a French dating app, where his profile has no photo, just a silhouette and his age: 49, three years older than me.
