“Do you need some help with that?” were the first words I ever spoke to my ex, which sounded a lot like a polite offer you’d make at the supermarket. Except he was naked and pressed up against a wall while a girl was on her knees in front of him.
“You better ask her,” he replied beaming, nodding to the woman below, before she eagerly invited me down to her level to join in the fun.
And that’s how I met my last boyfriend – at a Sydney sex club while he was getting blown.