I was at university in Scotland - though I’m not going to reveal which for obvious reasons. To help make money I worked in a couple of rather upmarket hotels, firstly waitressing, then cocktail bar work. The latter I found much more to my liking and not just because the hours suited or the renumeration was better.

To my delight I discovered there were some very unofficial perks to be had that certainly weren’t in my job description. In fact I’d have been dismissed on the spot had management ever found out what I was up to. The fringe benefits consisted of occasionally persuading married women to let me provide a little after hours room service.

I should explain that for some reason I’ve long found the lure of a married woman hard to resist. It’s possible the origins of my penchant go back to when I was around twelve or thirteen and smitten by our very comely next-door neighbour who was a school teacher. Sadly nothing ever came of my adolescent crush, but the desire for a certain type of women only intensified as I grew older.

By the time I went to university I’d enjoyed a number of lesbian relationships with girls about my own age, and two with older women, both of whom were friends of my mother. I have to admit that the fact they knew my mum was one hell of a turn on. I’ve often wondered whether she and they ever got it together.

The discovery that ultra-respectable wives and mothers could, with the right approach, be entreated to do decidedly wicked things with another of their sex was a ‘eureka’ moment for me. So working in a grand, 5-star hotel often surrounded by women of a particular calibre was akin to letting a kid loose in a chocolate factory.

Autumn and winter was the best time of year for me. The hotels marketed themselves aggressively for business seminars, conferences and awards ceremonies. Happy hunting for lovers of married mums away from home and hubby for a few nights. Weddings were common in those months too, but as most women attending a wedding reception and dance are with a male partner, one had to be very careful. So eventually I avoided trying to hit on women at weddings. Pity, because I witnessed a fair number of very tasty mature ladies in their wedding finery.

It was rare if in all the groups of business people staying in the hotel there wasn’t at least one woman to whom I took a shine. Generally I avoided the glamour-puss, demonstrative types who liked to be centre of attention. Ideally the subject of my interest would be in her mid-thirties or older. Wedding and engagement rings a must. A nice face and possessing what looked to be a good figure were pluses but not vital. I discovered early on that after ten or more years of marriage and motherhood, ordinary everyday women come in various packages, complete with stretch marks and often a lack of sexual confidence. No, real women don’t look like porn stars!

How did I do it? Confidence in the main plus a certain fluidity of speech, a willingness to listen and some basic psychology. Heterosexual women are conditioned to deal with advances made by men, but generally ill-equipped to deal with a female that’s making the moves. They can be puzzled and confused when they begin to suspect that the young and dare I say, good-looking girl that’s been so pleasant and listened with interest (unlike her husband probably) isn’t quite what she seemed to be at the start of the evening and several drinks ago.

Note: Alcohol was a very useful tool in helping to relax married women into a more receptive frame of mind but I never hit on really drunk women. That was another reason why those attending weddings were generally unsuitable subjects for seduction.

An innocent invitation to join a group of women after hours for a drink or coffee could usually be steered in the direction I wanted with the reasonable explanation that the hotel forbade staff being front of house after their shift. A suggested move to someone’s room or suite and I was halfway there. A few more drinks and I was often nearly there.

In the main it would be just one lady that I’d be able to persuade to invite me to her room, but several times I was lucky to get it on with more than one at a time and on three occasions in as many years I ended up in what one could only describe as a lesbian orgy. There were always a couple of women who’d lose their nerve and bail out when it became clear the direction things were heading but I was always amazed that married women, who only hours before were earnestly discussing such scintillating topics as sales’ strategies or market projections, would, by midnight be writhing around semi-naked on a bed with their tongues down each other’s throats and hands eagerly working their magic inside bulging bras and damp panties - all helped by yours truly!

Yes, there would be a few red faces in the morning, but I hoped that all the lovely women I initiated in that period went on to discover further joys of women-only sex and love.

I truly believe that there’s no such thing as a ‘straight’ woman. I’ve yet to meet a woman who will admit that they still prefer cock after making love with a skilful female lover.