Reading it on my laptop in the aptly named Cafe Affaire in central London, I consider what she really wants: a no-strings-attached sexual relationship.
What I don't know is how her husband will feel about it. Aside from the little matter of her marital status, she also believes I have a wife, but she doesn't care.
She seems rather on edge and sends me a text message at the time we're due to meet asking why I'm using the website.
I reply, telling her to come over and ask me face to face. She looks furtively around and asks me if I'm nervous. There is tension in the air like North and South Korea coming together to hammer out a treaty.
The idea is presumably to safeguard people from searching for their own spouses on the site - though how a husband would explain to his errant wife how he came to stumble across her picture on a website for adulterers, I don't know.
In order to fit in with the general ethos of the website I have invented a wife.
But it claims to have more than 100,000 members in the UK.
Many of them are middle-class, many have young children.
This is how I find myself waiting for "Sophia Loren".We have encountered one another via an internet dating service established for the sole purpose of enabling married people to commit adultery.It may sound like an unpleasant niche website for a handful of amoral people to whom wedding vows never meant very much."My preference is for a man who is much younger than me with rugged features," says one. This is a way of paying someone a compliment without typing out the words. And over the course of a week I get almost 100 replies, messages and propositions.Postings such as: "I want a man who can look after me and knows how to treat a woman. I'm surprised and unsettled by the forward tone of some of the material. Determined to avoid the connotations, I reply: "The Beatles." I never hear from her again.