Has anyone else noticed how much new relationships resemble a tub of Philadelphia? The slightest contamination, and the whole lot goes mouldy within two days!

I can't help but think that this is what is happening with Salsa Boy.

He never phoned all weekend, whilst the German guy kept ringing every five hours or so from his holiday in Africa, making me feel warm and fuzzy inside with his easy, genuine charm and friendly, attentive voice.

I mean, anyone apart from a hard-core Catholic would be frustrated at the lack of physical contact since I met him before Christmas, and whilst I am a very confident and outgoing person, I am also extremely approcheable and affectionate.

We had a tentative text exchange about what actually happened on the weekend, and he kept throwing the "blame" back at me... not a good start! His "defense" for not being more offensive with his affections is that I had stretched out on the sofa, leaving him no space to sit, so he had to sit on the other one. Pur-lease! I ask you, does the man have no mouth to ask me to shift over? No bum, to sit next to me or hands to move my legs or head onto his lap?
Should I draw him a map? I suppose in this case I should include a very obvious arrow to my clitoris, for future reference!

I am getting exhausted just thinking about it, so bringing it up with him wasn't easy, and won't be any easier in person.

How hard could it have been for him to ask me on Sunday if I wanted him to come over in the evening, or to basically just phone to see if I was alright?

German Boy may live abroad, but at least it feels like he is there for me. And I don't feel awkward making sexual references, which Salsa appears to be able to do via text (albeit fairly harmless, along the lines of: "next time you won't escape...") but not in person, preferring to chat about friends, pets and politics, and other neutral subjects.

I don't just want to dump Salsa Boy on his arse, but give him a chance to explain properly- without appearing to criticise or ridicule him. It is quite possible that his actual experience with women is rather limited, especially since I established now that he used to go to a convent school followed by an all-boys grammar school which left little exposure to female company.

On the other hand, it is quite possible that in the long run my 40-plus lovers won't go down well with his confidence, even if the actual number never actually emerges. I refer to "boys I once dated" fairly frequently if some related subject comes up, and it is usually a totally different person from the one I mentioned before.

I don't know how I'd feel about getting intimate with someone whose penis possibly hasn't felt a stranger's hand for ten years, and I have begun to wonder whether he grooms his pubes any better than his eyebrows...

If I can feel myself pining for Tall Boy's passionate aggression in bed with someone as offensively affectionate as the German boy, how would I manage to stay awake with someone inside me who is even too shy to hold my hand properly!?

All in all, I can almost smell the fuzzy green film approaching...