MY BEST mate Will and I were young, free and solvent. Our plan was to fly to Los Angeles, hire a convertible and drive up Highway One, impressing surf chicks with our flashy wheels.

We arrived — jet-lagged — checked in, changed shirts and dashed down to the bar, where we began drinking copiously. I started to flake first. I needed sleep, but Will was insistent on one last round. “Okay,” I said. “Get me a bloody mary, then I’m off to bed.” Will went to order while I sat slumped at our table. I overheard the barmaid saying how cute his accent was, and a long conversation ensued.

Then a voice next to me said: “Not enjoying yourself?” It was Texan, and it came from a petite, dark-haired woman wearing very red lipstick. I sat upright as she glanced over at Will: “Your friend’s not going anywhere. I’ll get the drinks.”

She was far too old for me... well into her thirties. Brilliant. I sent a signal to Will, he sent one back, and I was alone with Mandy.

She twirled her stirrer as I told her all about the road trip and the convertible. Then she said: “Let’s stop messing about and finish our drinks in my room.”

Will looked surprised as I left him for dust in the bar. Then it was my turn to be surprised when Mandy kissed me in the elevator, in the corridor, outside her door and in her hallway. “Why isn’t it always this straightforward?”, I thought as she threw me onto her bed and disappeared into the bathroom. She emerged in suspenders and outrageously skimpy underwear — holding some handcuffs.

I spent the next hour learning things about the art of seduction I didn’t think were possible. She had more than handcuffs in her suitcase and I was too excited, too drunk and too jet-lagged to register any objection.

Until I found myself in nipple clamps, being whipped, while Mandy shouted abuse at me — and I suddenly realised my plan to get an early night had been the right one. I unclipped, unzipped, unpeeled, untethered, unchained, untied and unhandcuffed myself as Mandy demanded to know what I was doing. Then I threw on my clothes, said an awkward “Thank you” and made for the door.

Will woke when I crept in. “How was she?” he asked. “Boring,” I muttered.

Maybe it was my sore nipples, but I just didn’t have the confidence to chat anyone else up that entire trip.