I played footsie with a stranger – then we got a hotel room

I felt my breathing quicken as the stranger’s foot pushed against mine, before he lifted the front of his shoe and placed it onto my ballet pump.

Gently, but with purpose.

Heart racing, I pushed my leg towards his so that he could feel the resistance, as my mind wandered about his legs under those chinos, his muscly arms and chest under the crisp white shirt.

I was at a matinee performance of The Phantom of the Opera in London’s Covent Garden 16 years ago. I’d gone along with my mum and two sisters to celebrate my mum’s 60th birthday.

I was 27 at the time. I’d been in a longterm relationship since university – but my boyfriend had moved up to Edinburgh for work six months previously and the long-distance relationship just didn’t really work.

For the last few months, we’d been on a break as we tried to decide what the future held.

While I wasn’t actively dating, my head was all over the place and I remained really uncertain if our relationship would stand the distance.

That day at the theatre, I became aware of a man, around my age, sitting next to me with an older lady who I assumed was his mum; on her other side, possibly a female sibling or friend.

He was sitting on my left and not long after catching a glimpse of his dark hair and crisp white shirt out of the corner of my eye, I could smell his distinctive musky cologne.

At one point just before the show started, I felt his arm bash into mine, knocking some of the prosecco out of my theatre-issue plastic cup. As he apologised, our eyes met and he smiled at me.

Instantly, I was mesmerised by his gorgeous brown eyes.

As the lights went down and the show began, I felt my heart start to race as I sat there in the darkness acutely aware of his every move. Him tucking into his bag of Minstrels and awkwardly manoeuvring his long, chino-clad legs around in the small space between his chair and the seat in front.

Sipping my glass of prosecco, I couldn’t concentrate on the show as I felt this stranger’s leg gently brushing against mine. It was his muscly thigh at first, something I assumed was an accident because of the lack of space.

But when he moved his foot towards mine so that our lower legs and feet touched too, I realised it was intentional.

In the darkness my mum and sisters were none the wiser and their presence made it feel like an illicit secret. Naughty somehow.

During the interval they dragged me to the toilets – but back in our seats afterwards, this man and I still didn’t look at each other. With the bright theatre lights on, I was worried my family would notice.

Without looking at him I knew he could feel the same electricity that I did

Throughout the second half of the show I could barely concentrate on what was happening on-stage as I felt his strong leg pressing against mine, acutely aware of his breathing and the smell of his cologne.

Without looking at him I knew he could feel the same electricity that I did as I pushed my leg back against his.

At the end of the show, as we filed out from our seats I felt a sense of panic that I would never see him again.

Thinking fast, I grabbed one of my business cards from my purse and slipped it into his coat pocket.

I’d never done anything like that before and as I walked away I cringed to myself. What if he had a girlfriend?

The sex was the most explosive I’ve ever had. Fast, frantic and extremely fulfilling!

After the show I went for dinner with my mum and sisters. Not long after I said goodbye to them at Euston Station, my phone beeped with a message from a random number.

It was him! John* said he was over from France with his mum for a holiday and had also been at the theatre for his mum’s birthday, with his cousin.

I agreed to meet him for lunch at a pub the next day.

When I walked into the pub I didn’t recognise him at first – he was dressed much more casually in jeans and a T-shirt.

It was extremely awkward at first, and for a split-second I thought I had made a massive mistake – but when his face broke into a kind, sexy smile and he poured me a glass of wine, the awkwardness quickly dissolved.

I was a jabbering wreck at first and there was no silence as we quickly got through a bottle of red and he told me about his IT job in Paris and asked me about mine.

With my nerves calmed he invited me back to his hotel room. I’d never had a one night stand before, but this felt so exciting and naughty that I didn’t think twice.

No sooner had we walked through the door than we both started undressing each other and I was stroking my hands over his tanned six-pack, breathing in his distinctive cologne.

The sex was the most explosive I’ve ever had. Fast, frantic and extremely fulfilling!

Fortunately his mum and cousin had gone for lunch with friends so we knew we had a few hours before they returned to their neighbouring room.

When he went back to France the following day we carried on messaging for a while and met up a few times over the next couple of years when he was in London before we lost contact.

In truth, while the sex had been amazing, we didn’t actually have much in common and when I got a new partner I didn’t want to cheat on them. 

I’m now 44 and John and I are still friends on Facebook. I’m happily married with two children, and I know that he’s happy in a long-term relationship too – but whenever I come across one of his posts I can’t help but smile as I remember that unexpected afternoon.

And whenever I hear any songs from The Phantom of The Opera I’m transported back to that chance encounter and the first date I’ll never forget.

*Name has been changed

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