We haven’t met yet, but you’ve been thinking about me; dreaming of an experience you haven’t yet found. That woman who stands over you in your fantasies: is she a femme fatale, gazing at you from behind a sweep of Veronica Lake waves? Is she an arch disciplinarian, meting out punishments with Dietrich-like elegance? Perhaps she’s a nurturing figure, correcting you gently with a healing touch, or a coquettish switch in couture leather cuffs? Whichever form she assumes, she’s intoxicating – and using you for her own pleasure. You don’t want to play it safe with the girl next door - you’re hung up on a