It annoys me that some people seem to look at sex outside of established relationships as a sport or a hobby, to be enjoyed with new partners they don't know very well - like tennis or a pint in the pub.

Yes, we are free to fuck who we want, whenever we like - society won't bat an eyelid at snogging strangers in a bar or a groping couple on a street corner, and our parents aren't likely to care or even know about any risk to our reputation.

However unlike tennis or beer, sex within conventional fledgling relationships comes with a very different emotional implication.
Whilst one half of the randy couple may see it indeed as sport, a short-term solution to an itching libido, the other person may expect the tryst to lead to something more lasting: an affair, or, indeed, love, marriage and children.

If our tennis partner or pub mate doesn't return our calls after the last outing, we're not as likely to be emotionally devastated by this abandonment of a shared pursuit - we just find someone else to play or drink with. But if the removal of clothes is involved we usually feel a smarting pinch of pain at our partner's loss of interest.

The 'romantic comedy' "(500) days of Summer" illustrates this dilemma perfectly well: One party just wants something casual (the girl) and then goes on to marry someone else, whilst the other party (the boy) falls in love with her and makes her mix tapes.

In my experience, once someone is compelled to make you a mix tape you have lost your casual sex buddy and gained a wannabe boyfriend!

It is almost impossible to pull back from this brink, and reign in the horses of passion to return to a normal friendship where you don't swap bodily fluids.

So it is best to keep these two areas strictly separate. If there is a chance of you being interested in someone beyond their tennis or round-buying skills, it is best to keep things as chaste as possible so true feelings on both sides can develop. Or, if they fail to do so, to provide you with a cushion of dignity instead of an STD scare.

Keeping developing relationships celibate and civilized gives the guy a chance to fall in love, and the girl a chance to avoid falling prey to that addictive post-shag hormone, oxytocin, as described by Kate Taylor in her vital guide to chaste dating, "Not Tonight Mr Right". The other advantage is that you can get to know several people at once without having to change your sheets every 24 hours.

But what is a girl to do who has the emotional needs of Bridget Jones yet the libido of Samantha Jones? Kate Taylor seems to think you can just wean yourself off desire by stopping to play with your rabbit.
I disagree and say that the answer is simple: Leave your sex life to a professional environment dedicated to the pursuit of casual sex.
If you pick up a guy in a vanilla (straight) bar, the parameters are too confusing. He (or you) may be expecting a quick roll in the hay whilst you (or he) could be looking out for someone to swap rings with. This is a misunderstanding and heartache waiting to happen, so not a good start!

There are websites, saunas, clubs and escorts all delivering what they promise and nothing besides - apart from some honesty.
You don't have to worry yourself sick about what may or may not happen like on a straight night out, and if the expense is worth it, because usually what you are looking for will happen.
If you spot a cute guy in a bar he may not be available, yet not tell you, and you might end up disappointed if you get sexually involved with him.
If on the other hand he is at the bar in a certain type of open-minded club, the blonde next to him won't turn into a face-scratching bitch from hell if you try to talk to him, but may ask you to join in with them later. No lies, no awkwardness, and no guilt. And above all, no disappointed expectations.
Once you've had your fill of weekend frolics, you can then return to your rota of chaste dates with a clear conscience and a big grin - until you decide you like one of them enough to make it someting exclusive, and more permanent.

(silly me submitted this to the Londonpaper 2 days before the rag closed. Duh!)