Disclaimer: This story is totall fiction and doesn't say anything about the real sexuality of the people mentioned in this story.
Chapter 1
It was August. The weather was hot and humid. Enrique Iglesias was in Amsterdam for the recording of Top of the Pops.
I was in the audience and had come specially for my idol, my God, Enrigue.
Ever since I `d first seen him on TV I'd had a crush on him and now I would see him for the first time live on stage.
Wow, I was so nervous. Maybe I could force myself through the crowd of teenage girls and touch my idol's fingers when he was performing.
I made my way through the crowd of screeming girls and was able to secure a place in the front row.
Oh but I was very disappointed. There was security all around the stage. This way there was no way I could ever get near to him.
Now the host of Top of the Pops netherlands got on stage an anounced that in a few seconds Enrique Iglesias was to perform his newest hit.
The crowd went wild when Enrique came on stage and the music started. Evryone was shouting and screaming his name. And I have to admit that I was shouting the loudest of them all. I thought that my voice wouldn't be heard in the mob of teenage girly voices, but I was wrong.
Halfway through the song Enrique went to the edge of the stage and looked through the crowds as if he was looking for something or someone in particular. Then suddenly his eyes stopped and then it hit me. He was staring at me.
Now I have to explain there were some 150 girls there and maybe a handfull of boys, all gay of course. A normal hetero sexual man wouldn't be caught dead at an Enrique Iglesias perfomance.
I looked up and was looking straight into those brown, almost black eyes of my idol. The man that had played a rol in almost all my sexual fantasies for over two years. He looked back at me, continued singing and kept on staring me straight in the eyes as if he'd wanted to tell me something. Maybe it was my imagination, maybe I just wanted him to look at me.
But as I was thinking that he winked at me and made a gesture with his mouth as if he was blowing me a kiss. I was totally confused. Did Enrique Iglesias wink at me, did he fancy me, an ordinary dutch guy? I didn't now what to think. And I had no time to think about it anymore because the song was over and Enrique left the stage.
Disappointed that the performance had only lasted for a few minutes I thought about leaving and returning home.
I was just about to walk towards the exit when someone pulled my shirt. I was annoyed and looked back to see who the hell was pulling my shirt so violently. I turned around and saw that it was one of the security men that belonged with Enrique Iglesias. What the hell could they want from me, I was wondering.
Then the man asked me If I'd be the one standing in the front row, about centre stage.
I said yes and before I could ask him why he wanted to know, he pulled my arm and I could do nothing else then follow him.
We went through a door that lead backstage. He stopped at a door that said E. Iglesias.
I still couldn't imagine what on earth I was doing there.
He knocked and the door opened. A man asked me the same question the security guy had asked me before. I , again, answered that it had indeed been me that had been standing front row, centre stage. The man knodded his head and disappeared through a door that had been previously shut.
I heard voices coming form the other room, that clearly had to be the actuell dressingroom of Enrique Iglesias. Then the man reappeared and gave me a note. But before he handed it to me he asked If I had any connections with the locall press.
I answered that I had never even met a journalist, hiding the fact that I was actuelly a radiohost for a locall radiostation, be it a very small one.
Then he handed me the note that said: Meet me at the Amstel Hotel, room 349 at 8.00pm, love E.
I felt like I was gonna faint. Enrique Iglesias wanted to meet me at his hotel room that night.
What on earth could he ever want from me, I thought.
I was escorted back to the studio, but I wasn't able to enjoy the other perfomances. I only could think about meeting Enrique Iglesias.
After the taping of Top of the pops had ended I went back to my hotel and took a shower. I dresses in the most sexy attire I had brought with me and sat on my bed, waiting for the the clock to hit seven thirty.
As soon as it was seven thirty on my watch I left my room and walked towards the Amstel Hotel, a few blocks away from where my, very cheap, hotel was situated.
It was a few minutes to 8 as I entered the Amstel Hotel in the centre of Amsterdam. It was a beautifull location, on one of Amsterdam's famous canals.
I entered the lobby and went straight for the elevators. The elevator stopped at the third foor and the door opened. It was a wide corridor with luxurious carpets and art. I walked in the corridor and sought for room 349. I soon found it, because it was the only room with a security guy in front of it.
I walked up to him and showed him the note that Enrique had given me. He asked me to wait a minute and went into the room.
A few seconds later he returned and said it was ok, Mr. Iglesias would see me.
He opened the door and let me pass. There I was in Enrique's hotel suite. But oh, I was disappointed. The room turned to be empty.
I walked around the room and stopped at the wide windows at the other side of the room. It gave a beautifull view over Amsterdam.
Suddenly I heard a commotion behind me and I turned around to see who it was.
As I turned around I saw my idol, the man that had played the main roll in all of my sexual fantasies standing in front of me, wearing nothing but a pair of briefs and a bathrobe.
You have to excuse me, he said. I just took a shower.
If you want to know what happened next, you'll have to wait for part two of this erotic story about me and Enrique Iglesias.
I won't keep you waiting for long, I promise.