Rosie was a bad loser. She had too much pride - and pride came before a fall, as she was about to find out. She knew only too well that Mike wanted her. Any woman would have realised the power of his desire. It wasn't that there was a bulge in the front of his trousers or anything blatant like that. He was basically pretty well behaved in front of her - and as far as she knew in front of any woman. But he was clearly highly sexed, and equally clearly would respond to any signals from her that might encourage him. He had a way of looking at her from time to time, eyes almost glazing over, which was followed by his closing his eyes tightly for a moment. She had a feeling that it was to clear his head of a buildup of sexual fantasies, a way of regrounding himself in order not to give himself away too much. But Rosie knew for certain that inside his head he had been inside her knickers even if she wasn't quite sure exactly what he was doing there. This often irritated her. It was almost a feeling of being taken advantage of without her permission - a sort of sub-category of rape. It was so unfair, she thought, that she had no control over what men did to her in their fantasies.

It was beisde the point, she felt, that it often turned her on. Mike was a good looking guy, well-built, in good shape, and almost certainly a good catch for any woman to land. But Rosie wasn't any woman! And she certainly wasn't anybody's. It wasn't enough to fancy her - and she knew she was fanciable. She loved her own body, she'd often examined it in detail, admired its classic curves, slim waist, full breasts, prominent mons veneris, striking dark curly pubes - and was extremely practised at searching out very precisely all the ways in which she was able to derive pleasure from her body. She was so expert at this that she was never ever sexually needy - and was able to bring a well-advanced repertoire to the table - or bed perhaps! - on the occasions that she did accept a man into her life.

Where she might be said to have a problem was in keeping a man beyond a four week period of serious sexual exploration at most. She wouldn't own up to it, but her emotional experiences of men had given her a deep mistrust of the species.

This led her to make increasingly excessive demands on a man as if she intended to scare him away. She would become harder and harder to be with until the man would just throw in the towel and go off to lick his wounds and put it all down to experience.

This assertive behaviour from Rosie tended to happen in tandem with the growth of a natural emotional response between her and the man in question. But if there was no hint of emotional togetherness, just a level sexual playing field, then she stayed much more balanced and stable in her behaviour to the man. That way a relationship could last a few months before one or the other got bored and moved on. Rosie always tried for it to be her who moved on. Being dumped was not something she took to kindly, in fact it brought out the very worst in her. The vicious spite that would tinge her conversation about the ex following the breakup was sad to see. But her friends knew better than to try and cure her.

Not just the end of the relationship but the start also had to be in Rosie's control. She was nobody's pawn. She was not for playing with. She set the pace and needed to stay in the driving seat for the whole event.

Here and now, Rosie was trying to make up her mind about Mike. Would she set the ball rolling or not? She felt there was an arrogance to Mike - but was she just assuming it? Attractive people have a tendency to assume they won't be rejected, even to assume they could seduce any victim at will. Rosie wasn't up for that. She was impervious. The quality of her own looks gave her the same level of control - and only she would say if and when anything would happen.

Having a good mind as well as looks, she had found it a very appealing challenge - after half a bottle of wine - to play for her "virtue" at a game of chess - against having her bathroom completely redecorated.

She was good at chess. She'd been brought up to it. But it was now proving obvious that Mike was good too. Unusually he seemed to be one step ahead of her - not a position she liked to be in.

Getting more and more irritated as the game proceeded, she tried to stay calm and collected by sipping rather more wine then she should have, and this was her undoing - in all senses of the word - as the wine affected her judgment and suddenly she found Mike two steps ahead of her - and then the game was lost.

She slammed the chair back angrily and stood up. "OK, you win, big boy! How do you want me? Bent over the chess board?!"

Mike registered her anger - it wasn't hard! "I'm not here to force you! If you feel the need to back out, then of course - ".

"Rubbish!" she declared, and started to undress.