A Fling In Mexico With A Man 12 Years Older Helped Boost My Self-Confidence

Savannah Taider · Aug 27, 2019

Have you ever been on the verge of pouring your feelings out to a sexual partner because of how good he and his dick were making you feel?

By “good”, I don’t just mean him dicking you down so well that he makes your legs shake, your toes curl, and your vagina pulse. I also mean him making you feel so feminine and comfortable in your skin that you can’t remain spiritually unaffected by such an encounter. Well, I have.

It happened during my post-Spring Break vacation in Playa del Carmen, Mexico, with a man I met in Coco Bongo, a famous night club. Let’s call him Jermaine.

Normally, my rule is to avoid one-night stands and any other kind of dick appointments. Not that I’ve made some type of celibacy commitment or anything, but my sexual appetite is so strong that I’m afraid casual sex would easily make it on the list of my unhealthy addictions. And considering that, before that night, I used to take a lot of pride in my low body count, I didn’t really mind being on a no-sex diet. Moreover, a part of me always liked to think that sex is only worth it if it involves two people who are in love with each other… Anyway.

Just like any other diet that I’ve been on, it wasn’t easy and required me to remain focused on and committed to my goal at all times. Thankfully, it doesn’t always have to be that hard, considering that being on a diet also means that you’re allowed to have a good cheat meal from time to time. And back in Mexico, I was craving one.

I hadn’t had a cheat meal in 753 days.

Courtesy of Savannah Taider

Needless to say, I could unfortunately relate to any of those hilarious #dayswithoutsex memes. To be fair, it’s my insecurities that allowed me to last for so long. My insecurities – these negative beliefs that I used to have about myself after a severe weight gain. These negative beliefs that led me on a hateful, unstoppable self-body shaming journey that’s done nothing but damage my self-esteem.

These love handles? Hate. Those back rolls? Hate. Those flabby arms? Hate. This fat belly making my breasts look even smaller? Hate, hate, hate.

The 45 pounds that I gained two years ago transformed my body so much that it had me dreading the day I wouldn’t be able to resist my thirst for sex. I’d pictured this scene in my head so often… Me letting a man touch and see the parts of me that I hate the most, only for him to end up hating them just as much. It turned into one of my fears.

Oh, I wish someone had told me sooner that it could also go the other way around… That I could also let a man touch and see the parts of me that I hate the most for him to teach me how to love them more. That man was Jermaine. Jermaine taught me.

When Jermaine and I met, I knew that if I was to bring things further, it wouldn’t be for us to just play cards. He confirmed my thoughts when he licked his way up from my collarbone to my ear and whispered, “I’ve been on you all night. You’re so sexy.”

His words of affirmation immediately caused a waterfall between my legs. I must admit, it made me feel a little more confident, but I still believed that it was going to be all fun and games until he’d want to take off my shirt. Which is why, despite how I deeply wanted to have sex with him, I still made the decision to leave it at that for the night and promised I’d call him the next morning like he asked me to. I went to bed smiling like an idiot, eager to wake up a few hours later to see whether or not Jermaine and I would meet again.

His resort’s beach was within a walking distance from mine, so we agreed to meet each other halfway. Although I was thrilled to see him, it didn’t take a minute before I started feeling nervous. The night before, Jermaine and I met in a dark room, and alcohol was involved; I wasn’t sure he’d still be attracted to me in the daylight and the tropical weather only made things worse. Clearly, it was way too hot and humid to wear any kind of clothes or makeup. What Jermaine was about to get was the rawest version of me. But our short little beach date went better than I thought it would: no awkward greetings, the conversation flowed naturally and there was a lot of laughter.

Honestly, I didn’t even think of the way I looked once. I was being myself and it felt good. I guess that’s what happens when you date someone 12 years older than you; you don’t really have time for that insecure ish.

As it was already late in the afternoon when we met, we headed back to my resort straight away. By the time we arrived, most vacationers had left to start getting ready for dinner. Soon, it was just Jermaine and me, and what was left unfinished in the club continued unabated on the beach. I sat on him as he was laying on a sunbed and pressed my forehead on his. His arms were wrapped around my waist and mine around his neck. As our tongues were swirling around each other’s, his hands moved down to my butt cheeks. He squeezed them and pulled me closer. He slightly took off my bikini top and started licking my breasts. I gasped. Hurting him was my way to show him how thirsty I was, so I bit him hard in the neck. I couldn’t contain myself anymore and risking being seen by anyone made everything even more exciting.

Eventually, my hands ended up in his shorts, which forced us to get a room. Everything about him and his attitude made my entire being feel beautiful and respected. He was calm, peaceful, and wasn’t trying to rush into it. He kept talking to me as he took off my shorts and bikini top, making eye contact. Every part of my body that he touched, he nicely complimented, starting from my lips to, well… my private parts.

When he penetrated me, it was as if he had entered a sacred temple. A sacred temple that he somehow helped me rediscover with every one of his kisses and caresses.

That night, Jermaine taught me that people don’t view you the way you view yourself. The truth is, people can even be more comfortable with your body than you are. And for the first time in years, I felt enough. I felt wanted. I felt desired. The sex was amazing and overwhelming. Along with every stroke came waves of emotions. The kind of emotions that you feel when your soul heals: elevation, lightness, and passion. Perhaps, it’s the fact that I knew that there was going to be no tomorrow, perhaps it’s the fact that he gave my body the appreciation it’s been seeking, but what I’m sure of is that I didn’t fear him seeing my body anymore. The more pleasure he was giving me, the more pleasure I wanted to give him. And I wanted him to be able to witness that. I wanted him to see how wonderful he was making me feel. I turned the lights on.

Alexa, play “Rocket” by Beyoncé.

Sometimes, dick with no complications is what you need.

If this piece isn’t about reconsidering wrong beliefs and limiting thoughts, then I don’t know what it is. Remember when I told you that my low body count mattered and that sex is only worth it if it involves two people in love with each other? I didn’t know what I was talking about. The only reason I wanted to keep a low body count was because I didn’t want my (nowhere-to-be-seen) future husband to marry someone perceived as “promiscuous”. Announcement: men that are husband material don’t care. Ask them.

Bigger announcement: our value as women don’t decrease based on the number of sex partners we’ve had.

Courtesy of Savannah Taider

It’s our right to explore our female sexuality, gain the experience we’re looking for and take pleasure in doing so. I’m no scientist, nor a psychologist, but I know for a fact that allowing outside determinants to prevent you from living and enjoying your sexuality on your own terms will cause you a lot of frustrations. As for the part of me that liked to think that sex is only worth it if it involves two people in love… that drives from me being a spiritual person. Making sure that my soul is abundantly nurtured on all the things it needs is essential to me, and I know that it’s real love that it craves, not sex.

However, I’d been missing the fact that taking care of my soul includes taking care of its house. And while my sole purpose was to relieve my sexual appetite that night, I discovered that sleeping with a stranger exceeded by far all the ways I could’ve learned how to properly worship my body. Jermaine and I were definitely not in love. But was it worth it? Heck yes.

Would I do it again? Absolutely.

Want more stories like this? Check out the related reads below, sign up for our newsletter, and follow us on Instagram @workthemagicwithin. Have an inspiring story to share? Email us at savannah@workthemagicwithin.com.

This article was originally published on xoNecole.com

Featured image courtesy of Savannah Taider

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2 years ago

I still love this piece. So raw. So deep. No pun intended. I think being in a different country absolutely played a factor, too. Inhibitions often disappear when we’re outside our comfort zones and away from familiar eyes, allowing us to explore those unknown, curious or more authentic parts of ourselves.


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