"A Symphony of Passion, Wrapped in Velvet & Lace"

What I Love About Being Alexa Stephens

If you’ve read my About Me section, you’ve likely noticed that I place a great deal of value on openness, meaningful connections, and the rich experiences I collect through the men I meet. As Alexa, each encounter introduces me to new perspectives, and I thrive on the fascinating conversations and moments that unfold.

Allow me to share a story that encapsulates all of this.

A few years ago, I had my first encounter with a gentleman who would become a regular part of my life. I was on tour in the Midwest, with a few days scheduled in Chicago, when I met him—a businessman from the West Coast in town for a few days. He booked me for four hours, a perfect amount of time for a relaxed dinner at one of Chicago’s finest steakhouses followed by some private moments back at his hotel.

From the moment we sat down, I found myself charmed by his quiet confidence. He was older—certainly—but there was nothing cynical or cold about him. He appreciated my unique perspective as a young woman, and our conversation flowed effortlessly. For two hours, it was just the two of us, completely absorbed in each other’s words, sharing stories, thoughts, and laughter. And he was funny—so very funny. If you’ve ever been with me, you’ll know that my laugh is unmistakable, a genuine response to something that truly amuses me.

As dinner progressed, we started talking about music. I shared how much I’d enjoyed seeing the Rolling Stones at Madison Square Garden. To my surprise, he was a massive fan too and regaled me with stories of the many concerts he’d attended over the years. But what really piqued my interest was when he confessed that, for the past two decades, he had moved away from rock and roll, falling deeply in love with opera.

It was a fascinating turn, and I was eager to know more. He explained how his passion for opera had developed almost by accident—his first experience coming when a friend had fallen ill and couldn’t use a ticket. That moment sparked something in him, and his passion had only grown since. While I didn’t know much about opera, I was utterly captivated by his enthusiasm. He patiently guided me through his journey, sharing the intricate beauty of something I had never fully understood before.

The evening progressed as one might expect after a perfect dinner, though I’ll leave those details to your imagination. What’s important is that the connection we shared was undeniable.

The following day, I received the sweetest note from him, along with a playlist of opera arias he hoped would give me a glimpse into the passion he had described. It was thoughtful, sincere, and a reflection of the kind of man he was.

A few months later, just before Christmas, I received a message from him. He was visiting New York and had noticed that the Met was staging a short festive run of The Magic Flute. He thought it would be the perfect introduction to the world he had come to love—and asked if I’d be interested in joining him. I have never accepted a booking request quicker!

In the weeks leading up to our date, I found myself eagerly anticipating the experience. His playlist became a fixture on my Spotify, and while I didn’t fall in love with every piece, the ones that resonated with me were profound. The Flower Duet from Lakmé was a moment I will never forget—an introduction to a new world of sound and emotion.

The day finally arrived, and everything was perfectly planned. He had booked a stunning room at the Aman, and as soon as I arrived, we were reacquainted in ways that were at once familiar and thrillingly new. There was an unspoken understanding between us, a sense that something had shifted since our last meeting—something deeper, more intense.

As soon as the door closed behind us, it was like picking up where we had left off, only this time, the connection was more electric, more urgent. The anticipation between us, built over weeks of imagining and longing, spilled into the room. Every touch, every glance, seemed to pull us closer, until we finally gave in to the heat of the moment. Our reunion wasn’t just emotional—it was passionate, intense, and everything we both needed. In that moment, the connection between us went from electric to explosive, and we were both swept away, surrendering to the desire that had been building since our first meeting.

But, as much as we were lost in each other, we both knew there was something equally special awaiting us. The opera. A new world, one we were about to enter together.

Dinner at the Grand Tier was exquisite, and the photos of me on the iconic spiral staircase were a beautiful reminder of the night we were creating. As the opera began, I felt an electric charge between us—his hand in mine, anticipation building. When the Queen of the Night’s aria filled the space in act two, I was overwhelmed. The sheer beauty, the vocal acrobatics, the emotion—it was unlike anything I had ever experienced. In that moment, I realized I had truly entered his world, and I couldn’t help but let a single tear slip down my cheek.

Later, as we made our way back to the hotel, there was a palpable excitement between us—like two teenagers who had just attend their first live concert. The air was electric and I couldn’t wait to explore where it would lead. In the privacy of our room, we relaxed together, sipping champagne, our bodies drawing closer as we spoke of the night’s performance. He was eager to share more of himself with me , pulling out his laptop so I could watch Amadeus with me, his favorite movie. As the film unfolded, I was swept away by the music, the emotion, and the story. I felt like I had entered his world in a way I hadn’t before, and it left me yearning for more.

When the credits rolled, the room seemed to hum with an unspoken energy. As the last notes faded, we found ourselves drawn to each other once again. This time, it wasn’t just about the urgent passion that had simmered beneath the surface and exploding earlier in the evening—it was something deeper, more tender. We explored each other more slowly, savoring the intimate connection we’d already shared, but now intensified. The quiet moments between us spoke louder than any words could, and we lost ourselves in the kind of tenderness that only two people who truly understand each other can share. It was a beautiful, lingering encounter—one filled with soft touches and whispered words, drawing us even closer than before.

As we lay together, the warmth of his body against mine, I closed my eyes, my thoughts drifting. The evening had been nothing short of magical, but I couldn’t help but wonder what would come next—what other layers of intimacy and connection we still had yet to uncover, and what hidden depths and interests this man might still share with me. The anticipation of where this could lead made my heart race in the best way. I felt a quiet promise, an unspoken agreement that our journey was only just beginning, and I couldn’t wait to see what would unfold in the chapters yet to be written.

A few days ago, I opened my email to a simple, three-line message from him:

“Alexa, plans for summer? Thinking of Glyndebourne… Are you in?”

I didn’t hesitate for a second. Oh yes, yes I am. All the way in.