Hi, I’m Ian.

A well-travelled professional in my early forties, good-looking, fit but with the beginnings of a dad bod (thanks to overindulging this Christmas). My work has taken me all over the world, and while I’m no stranger to blending business with a little fun when visiting a new city, this trip is a little different. It’s my first time in Brisbane, my first time in Australia, and my first time in the southern hemisphere. While work brings me here, I have no intention of letting this trip be all business.

I’m landing early next Saturday evening (18th Jan) and heading straight to my hotel in the Central Business District. I’ll be here for the week, with a flight home the following Saturday (25th) night. It’s a short stay, but I’ve scheduled plenty of downtime between meetings, workshops, and client dinners to explore all the things—and people—this city has to offer.

I’m married, so discretion is assured—and expected in return. Perhaps you’re single, looking for an exhilarating, no-strings-attached encounter. Or maybe you’re married too—whether your husband knows, doesn’t, or is part of the fun, there’s no judgement here. Whatever your circumstances, I promise you this: I know how to be discreet, how to make the most of an evening, and how to ensure it’s an experience you’ll never forget. At the end of the week, I’ll be on a plane back to London, and you’ll never see or hear from me again.

Imagine this: we meet at a bar or restaurant of your choosing—I don’t know the city, so you lead the way. I arrive early, settling in with a drink, anticipation sharpening my focus. When you walk in, I stand to greet you, a genuine smile crossing my face as I catch my first proper glimpse of you. You join me, and the evening begins with laughter, stories from my travels, and that spark of connection that turns strangers into something more.

As the evening progresses, the air between us shifts. There’s chemistry, intrigue, and a growing sense of possibility. At the right moment, I lean in and lower my voice just enough for only you to hear: “Take off your knickers and hand them to me.”

For a moment, you pause. Your mind races. Shit. OK. But how?! If you’re bold enough and chose a skirt or dress today, this could be easy—just a little discreet manoeuvring and the job’s done. If you prefer a safer option, you can always excuse yourself to the ladies’ room instead.

If you choose the safer option, you rise from the table, heart pounding as you make your way through the bar. Can I really do this? The buzz of conversation seems louder as you step into the ladies’ room and lock the stall door. The noise outside fades, leaving only the sound of your heartbeat echoing in your ears.

If you’re in a dress, you lift the fabric carefully, sliding your knickers down over your hips and thighs until they fall to your ankles. Bending quickly, you retrieve them from around your feet, bunching them tightly in your fist, now wishing you hadn’t left your handbag at the table.

If you’re in trousers, you unbutton and loosen them, sliding them just enough to perch on the edge of the seat. Careful not to fully undress your lower half, you slide one leg free, slipping your foot out of the knickers, back through your trouser leg, and into your shoe before repeating for the other side. Stuffing the fabric discreetly into a pocket, you stand and pull your trousers back up. The seams press against your now-bare skin, feeling strangely familiar yet different.

You step out of the stall and stop in front of the mirror. For a moment, you steady yourself, your reflection meeting your eyes. I can’t believe I’m doing this. You freshen up, smoothing your outfit, and turn slightly to check for tell-tale signs: Does my dress fall differently? Is there an obvious lack of pantyline where once there was? Of course, you can’t do much about your flushed cheeks or the slightly widened eyes staring back at you.

Taking one last deep breath, you stride confidently back through the restaurant. With your knickers stuffed into your pocket or bunched in your hand, things feel undeniably different. You imagine eyes on you, though no one really knows. Under a dress, you feel bare, exposed to the air. In trousers, the unfamiliar fabric rubs against places it never normally does. Either way, your arousal builds with every step.

When you reach the table, you drop the bunched, slightly damp material into my lap and slip back into your seat. My knowing smile meets your triumph, and the thrill of it all lingers in the air between us.

That delicious mix of nervous anticipation and bold risk is where the fun begins.

If you want to take things further, let’s decide together. If you prefer, you can keep your knickers firmly on, and we’ll say our goodbyes and part as friends—nothing lost but a fascinating evening shared.

But if you’re ready to take it further, we’ll leave together and head to my hotel.

Spend an hour, the whole night, or something in between—whatever you want.

If you’re single, let go completely. Leave your inhibitions in the lobby. The hotel room isn’t yours, the neighbours don’t know you, and the sheets aren’t your problem. Go wild, make as much noise as you want, and leave with memories you’ll replay for years to come.

If you’re married and discretion is key, tell him you’re at the gym, work up a sweat with me, and shower before you leave—happy, sore, and glowing.

If he knows, call him as we head back to the hotel and tell him not to wait up. Or, if he’s part of the fun, tell him where you’ll be, and we’ll pop down and meet him in the bar afterward. Maybe we’ll even invite him up for round two.

Whatever your circumstances, you’ll never see or hear from me again. Live out your wildest fantasies without judgement or fear. Indulge completely, just for the night, and leave with memories you’ll carry long after I’ve gone.

And if you’ve made it this far but don’t want to meet up, that’s cool too, and thank you for reading. This is my first visit to Brisbane, and possibly my only one, so I’d be grateful for any recommendations from locals for uncommon things to see, do, or experience. Sure, I could Google the touristy stuff, but I’d much rather hear from someone who knows the city well. A little local knowledge is worth its weight in gold, and your suggestions could make all the difference in making this trip truly memorable.

So, what are you waiting for? Let’s make this week unforgettable. Let’s chat.