ME Se­duced by my teen idol – 20 years later

Cosmopolitan (UK) - - Contents -

I’d had a crush on Stephen* for most of my teens. He’d been a huge ’90s TV star, and my bed­room walls were plas­tered with pic­tures of him. Over the years his fame had di­min­ished, along with the pop­u­lar­ity of the US show he starred in, so my boyfriend found it hi­lar­i­ous that I still put him at num­ber one on my ‘free pass’ list.

One day, my boyfriend came home bran­dish­ing a news­pa­per ar­ti­cle that said Stephen was mak­ing his theatre de­but in the West End, and of­fered to take me. I de­clined. I wanted to go on my own, with­out him teas­ing me, so I booked tick­ets for a mati­nee, with a seat in the sec­ond row.

It was a freez­ing De­cem­ber af­ter­noon, but I wore a short skirt and heels. I wasn’t ex­pect­ing any­thing, apart from maybe a selfie – after all, this was a se­ri­ous theatre pro­duc­tion.

And my crush was mar­ried. Once the play started, it felt sur­real, see­ing him in real life. There was a scene where Stephen stood to one side of the stage, with the spotlight on two other ac­tors. While the au­di­ence was en­grossed in their per­for­mance, he looked at me, his eyes catch­ing mine in an in­tense, lin­ger­ing stare.

After the play, I got talk­ing to some girls who’d trav­elled from Ger­many to see Stephen. They were go­ing to the stage door to get self­ies, so I fol­lowed. They were bun­dled up in North Face coats, and after 20 min­utes in the cold, I was freez­ing and felt stupid in my tiny out­fit. After all, I was 34, not 14.

But then Stephen ap­peared with another guy. He looked older and less in­no­cent than his on-screen per­sona, which made him sex­ier. He still had the bluest eyes I’ve seen on any­one, though. “I saw you in there,” he said, smil­ing know­ingly.

As he took pic­tures with the Ger­man girls, his eyes were on me. I felt bad for them, but also loved that I was the one get­ting the at­ten­tion. Then, as he was say­ing goodbye, he kissed me on the cheek and whis­pered,“Meet me in the car.”

I waited a few sec­onds, then darted over as quickly as I could in my heels to the black car wait­ing on the cor­ner. As we sped off, Stephen kissed me, ex­plor­ing my body hun­grily, and so ex­pertly I didn’t care that his driver could see ev­ery­thing in the rear-view mir­ror. His flat wasn’t too far from the theatre, and we stum­bled up the stairs tear­ing off each other’s clothes.

His body was ex­actly the same as the one I’d al­ways ad­mired in pic­tures, with a toned six-pack, but his chest

did have more hair than I ex­pected. I couldn’t be­lieve that it was hap­pen­ing and not just another teenage fan­tasy. “I’ve been dy­ing to do this since the sec­ond half,” he said, kiss­ing my breasts and mak­ing a trail of kisses down my body as he parted my legs and ca­ressed my inner thighs. I was des­per­ate for him to go down on me, but he took his time, fully aware that the an­tic­i­pa­tion was killing me, be­fore we ended up in a 69 po­si­tion. Know­ing he wanted me so badly made me feel like a star.‘Now it’s my turn to per­form,’ I thought, as I went on to strad­dle him, naked apart from my heels.

Af­ter­wards, Stephen had to get ready for the evening per­for­mance. I won­dered if some­one else would catch his eye in the au­di­ence, but put that thought out of my mind. My fan­tasy had come true – now it was time to get back to re­al­ity.

“‘Now it’s my time to per­form,’ I thought”

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