I offered to wear a hoodie, maybe even dress up like I was a boy – but she said that would just arouse more suspicion. She said I needed to look like any other fan – like any other lucky fan – who was chosen to go backstage to meet her. I looked at pictures from her concerts – I had honestly never been to one of her shows when we met that day at the private jet terminal at the airport where I was working part-time, but wanted to make sure I blended in, though I worried I might be a little too old to pass as someone in the audience at one of her shows. I opted for a simple white cotton A-line dress, held in at my midriff with a cute tiny little red belt, and red four-inch platforms – cute and sexy enough, but not big enough to get too much attention. I brought no purse – like she instructed – no identification whatsoever. I put a little red bow in my hair, wore my cute red plastic heart-shaped sunglasses that she said she liked so much, and put on the bright red lipstick she gave me for my birthday. And of course, no panties, just like she had asked. I looked for the security guard she described to me and said to him as I was instructed: “Hi, I am Monica.” He quickly nodded and without a word led me through the security gate at the stadium and down into its back corridors. I wondered if he had any idea why I was there, but then thought, why would he? He guided me through a busy stone corridor, no one taking particular note of me at all. But, after walking just a short distance and passing another security barrier, we seemed to be the only ones around. “This is the backway, as she instructed. No one will see you come in or out. I am the only one with access to this corridor.” I just smiled and nodded, trying to surpress how exciting I found all of this. Then, we arrived at a red door, plain with nothing on it. He took out a key, unlocked the door, and opened it for me. I stepped in and he quickly closed and locked the door behind me. Before I could take another step, there she was, sitting in front of the mirror, as beautiful as I had remembered – as beautiful as I saw on the Internet each and every day when I searched for her just to see what she was up to. She walked right up to me and smiled, taking my hand in hers. Her beautiful bright purple lips met mine and I felt the bright purple lace of her top brush against my arm as her left hand gently rested on the back of my neck. She felt so warm to the touch, smelled so wonderful, and was so pretty that I still could not believe this was real. I jumped forward a bit when I felt her other hand gently graze from the bottom of my ass cheek to the middle of my lower back, completely up underneath the back of my dress. She pulled away from the kiss and her eyes were wide and bright, her face emblazoned with the cutest little look of surprise. “You actually didn’t wear any?!” she said in an excited whisper. “Naughty girl!” “Anything for you, Selena,” I smiled as I moved in closer so our lips could meet again.
