Now I don't really consider myself a weirdo, but I know I can get a bit obsessive, and when that happens I'm prone to doing some unusual things. I'd been attracted to other women for a little while now, but had only ever got to the drunken snog stage before losing it and backing out in a hurry. Anyway, it had been a while since I'd had a liaison with either man or woman, and I was feeling decidedly frustrated.

I angrily shoved the restaurant door open, nearly knocking over a middle-aged couple who were about to enter, and stormed out onto Upper Street, tears streaming down my face, mascara smudges turning me into a dead ringer for Alice Cooper. Some anniversary! Sean, my boyfriend, came out after me. "Dolores! I'm sorry, I really am!" I heard his cries, his attempts to make better what couldn't be made better. But I didn't care, and ran down the pavement as best I could in my tight black cocktail dress and three inch stilettoes.

Ann had been running the family farm since she was eighteen. Her mother died when she was quite young so when her father died unexpectedly, and she was the only one of the family interested in the land, the siblings all agreed she should have it. She loved the life but her emotional needs at this time were going through a bad patch. She had been courting the same boy since she was sixteen and ten years on he had not progressed past the good night kiss.

It was my birthday. I was a bit depressed because nothing spectacular had happened. My boyfriend had taken me out to dinner and that was the extent of the celebrations. The sky was darkening as we left the restaurant, hailing a cab from the curb.

Sarah's mother had some idea she could get her married off to the son of one of her upper class friends, so she invited her to stay with her by the sea to meet them. They had lost touch over the last few years, so Sarah thought she would go along. Her relationship had come to an end at the beginning of the year, and sex was the last thing on her mind. Mixing in those circles was not something she relished. It reminded her of falling for some of her mother's friends when she was younger, and getting out of bed to watch them from the top of the stairs. As she got older, she would kiss them on both cheeks like her mother did to say hello and goodbye, and they would smell of heady perfume and hairspray.

It was as if suddenly I had become part of a new exciting world after my night with Angie. I was on a high and loved the feeling. I couldn't wait to see Angie again and tell her all my news - especially my little incident with Jean at the party.

At 23, I know I'm lucky to have my own beauty salon. It took a lot of hard work and I had help on the way but I still feel very satisfied with what I have achieved.

She pushed the door to enter the dark, bustling bar. The bar - anyone who was queer knew where you meant. You never needed to elaborate any further than ‘the bar’.

Just feeling her lips softly brush against your skin was enough to make you wet. You would lie at night, lights off, eyes closed, and rest your hand gently between your spread legs. Touching, lightly at first, your hips would start to move with your fingers as your mind drifted deeper into fantasy. There you would see and slowly undress her. God, how she was perfect. You were so wet. Your fingers pressed harder as you could feel the excitement build. The scene inside your head had changed swiftly, fleeting from one fantasy to an another, searching for what you wanted, what you needed.

Close bonds are created when you are quite young, they say. Most of my youth, however, was spent feeling alienated and lonely. Young people are very cruel; they torture insects and humans in the same casual way. It wasn't until I was about 19 that I met someone I felt close to - but the cruelty did not disappear either...

I met her at the gym. She was beautiful; blonde, tanned and sophisticated, with a husky voice that sent shivers through me every time I heard it. We went to the same yoga class, so I had plenty of time to admire her in the full-length mirrors as she bent and stretched her toned body. We often chatted in that stranger small-talk kind of way after class. I knew she worked in advertising, was engaged and had just moved in with her fiancé. She knew I was a PR, single and lived in a riverside flat.