Never Say Never
I saw him the minute I arrived at the bar. I watched as he laughed; he had strong shoulders and was tall, somewhere in his mid-thirties, he stood with confidence. He was bald with cute glasses and a nice, kept beard. His skin was sunkissed and chest hair peeked out of the top of his tank. He was participating in the weekly Trivia Night and the Belekin was flowing. It was a Wednesday, but we were in Caye Caulker, Belize—an island in the Caribbean—and everyone was on holiday and the days didn’t matter.
I’d run off to the bathroom and upon my return, wouldn’t luck have it that my travel companion, in a bar crammed with people, had engaged in conversation with this exact man.
I asked him where he was from and he shot back quickly with, “Does it matter?”
“No,” I told him. “But perhaps it’s a point to start a conversation? Maybe I’ve been there before,” I said, a bit annoyed.
“I grew up in Miami.”
“I haven’t been there!” I replied, “Tell me about Miami.”
“There’s nothing for anyone in Miami,” he cut me off, “except shitty music and cocaine. From there I moved to the island of Culebra.”
“Puerto Rico!” I yelled out, “GREAT! I’ve been there.”
“You have?!”
“I HAVE! I hitchhiked around Puerto Rico for a month.”
“You did?!” he shot back at me inquisitively. His eyes squinted with curiosity.
“Yes, I got picked up by all sorts of people: a truck driver that gave us blow, an Indian couple that had just been wed in an arranged marriage, and a nice Jewish man with four of his children that had to make a stop to pick up a bunch of guns from a Mexican restaurant on the way.”
“A bunch of guns?!”
“Yes, a bunch of guns.”
“What were their names? There weren't a lot of us there, I probably know them,” he smiled.
I stopped and chuckled. He told me his name was Mateo.
The conversation rolled into what I do for work, other places we’d traveled, scuba, other hobbies and so on and so on, but most of all, a lot of really ridiculous dad jokes. He couldn’t get enough. I somewhat jokingly asked him if he wanted to join us as we traveled to Guatemala the next day. He laughed but considered it and replied with a thoughtful, “maybe”—where the second half of the word turns itself upward with hope.
The bar was closing up and we hitchhiked a golf cart to the other side of the town to hit up the Reggae bar—a later-night bar. As we jumped from the golf cart a man in the back said in a low voice, “Cocaine, fire weed, mushrooms.”
When we arrived at the bar, we took a spiral staircase up to the second floor. Something about this town, all of the bar stools are wooden swings, hanging from the ceiling with ropes. I scooted my ass onto a bar swing and insisted that I was buying this round. While we waited for the bartender, who took ages, I told him I forgot to tell him about another job that I had. I work for a sex toy company sometimes. I watched as his eyes lit up. He asked me what the best seller was and I told him that it’s surprisingly this little chili pepper thing. “Strange” he shot back, “you wouldn’t think you’d want one of those anywhere near your private bits.”
Then I told him about how at the last event I worked, I won a We.Vibe. “It’s this C-shaped sex toy.” I held up my hand in the shape of a C and pointed at my thumb. “This side is flat and goes on the inside and stimulates the G spot and the larger side goes on the outside and presses against the clit.” I pointed to and wiggled my fingers. “It’s awesome. Another cool part about it is that both sides can vibrate independently AND it connects to your phone with Bluetooth, so you can control it with an app. I can send a link to anyone, anywhere and they can control it even if we’re thousands of miles away.”
“Do you do that with people while you travel?”
“I have once, I’ve actually only used it twice. The night that I got it, I put it on and all of my coworkers connected to it and took turns playing with me. The other time that I used it, I sent the link to a friend at home while I was working on a farm out in California. I had him turn the sound on so he could listen to me moan while he controlled the toy.”
“That sounds hot.”
“It was pretty hot. OH! And you can have sex with it in. I haven’t done that yet.”
He paused before he responded and then he very purposefully said, “Would you like to have sex with it in?”
I turned to look him in his eyes. “Yes, I would like that, I’d like that very much.” And we just looked at each other for a couple of moments. I looked down and noticed that one side of his pants was bulging. My hand reached for him the way a hand chases a water bottle rolling off a kitchen table: instinctively. I grabbed hold of him. “Is this for me?” I gazed at my hand completely filled by him and then moved it up to meet his gaze. He held it for a few moments.
“It is if you want it.”
I wanted it.
From the bar we moved over to a table with the friend I had been traveling with and a man they’d found to touch tongues with for the evening. The conversation continued. Sparks danced between us. I couldn’t stop laughing. I couldn’t stop petting his cock under the table. He leaned in and whispered in my ear, “I don’t know if I want to take you home right now or take you into this sleazy bar bathroom.” I smirked, pulled away and announced that I had to go pee. I grabbed my purse and walked to the bathroom, he followed. When we opened the door we both laughed. There was maybe a foot between the toilet and the door. It was perhaps the world’s smallest bathroom. I told him I did actually have to pee though and that he had to turn around.
“I can’t watch you pee?” he asked me.
“No,” I told him sternly, laughing.
“Who gets to watch you pee then?”
“People I’ve already had sex with,” I told him, still laughing. I had to spread my legs so that he had enough space to stand. He turned around to face the door, his nose must have been touching it. It was ridiculous. At the end of the day, I didn’t care if he saw me pee or not, it was just much more fun to watch him stand with his nose against the door. Then he said he had to pee, too. We awkwardly climbed around one another, surely you could hear us laughing even over the loud music on the other side. I half turned around but turned to look down as the last few drops were falling. His cock was impressive even when it was soft.
We tumbled out of the phone booth sized toilet, groping each other with a laughter that seemed would never end. It was time to get out of there.
His accommodation was nice,much nicer than mine. He had a nice, clean room to himself. It had fancy white linens, it’s own bathroom, and hot water. Can you say luxury? I was staying in a twelve-person dorm at a hostel around the corner.
When we entered the room, I walked around and sat on the bed looking at him. He walked over to stand in front of me, facing me. He started to unbutton his shirt without breaking eye contact. I took my shirt off over my head, still staring into his eyes. As he started to undo his pants, I rolled forward onto my knees, looking up at him. “Let me help you with that.” I pulled his pants down and took his hard cock into my mouth. It felt exactly like I thought it would.
He bent down and pulled me up, throwing me back onto the bed. He hastily pulled off my skirt and panties. He flipped me over and entered me in one motion. I cried out, and grabbed a fistful of the duvet. His fist grabbed my hair and pulled my head back to his mouth. “Where’s the toy?” Then he let me go and backed up a step or two to allow me to go grab it.
I sat back on the bed and fumbled with it for a second. Our ridiculous banter picked back up. I loved how much he loved making me laugh. He was witty and clever.
I got it up and buzzing rather quickly and then I showed him how he could control it using his fingers to move the waves on the screen and I held it out for him to feel it. I put it in and laid on my back, he approached me and slid in effortlessly, I was soaked. He turned the vibration to high and threw the phone onto the window sill, he moaned and slid me back further onto the bed. Limbs intertwined, we grabbed, kissed, and bit at each other, our bodies rolled across the bed like a crocodile rolls its dinner. I came once, twice, three times in a row. One rolling into the other into the other like a multi-tiered waterfall. He stood against the bed and pulled my ass to him. “Tell me what you want.” I was going to cum again. “Tell me what you want.” He repeated, firmer this time.
“I want you harder. Fuck me harder.”
“That’s gonna make me cum”
“I’m about to cum,” I gasped. One, two, three thrusts—I’m cumming—four, five times he plows into me—I’m screaming and squirming. He grabs my ass and flips me over, covering my chest in his cum. He falls to lay next to me on the bed. I run a finger through it and show it to him and then lick it off. “Yum.”
“Do you have a shower?” I stand and walk around the corner, his tiny swimmers dripping down my chest, into my bush.
The hot water barely has time to reach the floor before he’s grabbing handfuls of my breasts from behind and pushing me against the wall.
After the shower we move back to the bed. He pushes me over the edge, I hear him spit, and I feel the cold on my asshole. A moment later, he’s slowly pushing the flat piece of the toy into my brown eye and the larger side into my pussy. I’m overjoyed. He throws my phone down next to my face. “Turn it on,” he directs me, as he licks his hands and wets his cock. I do what I am told.
With a gasp of breath, we finally roll away from each other, exhausted from a long and lively evening loving, laughing, and fucking. My eyes start to close as he says, “You can’t sleep here.”
“Ha ha,” I tell him. “Goodnight to you too.”
“No, really,” he says. “You can’t sleep here.” I’m drunk and tired, and this for some reason annoys me. “There was a strict rule for this room, that said I wasn’t allowed to have guests overnight.” Now, mind you, it must be four in the morning at this point. It is overnight. I have, however, heard rules like this before travelling in Central America and to this day, I honestly do not think that he was lying. But this drunk, sleepy Gabi that had just been fully satisfied by this man wanted to then fall asleep in his big, strong arms. It didn’t appear that I was going to be getting my way on this particular…morning. So in a huff and a puff, and a not-very-like-myself moment, I gathered my clothes and made my way to the door.
“See you never,” I said as I closed it, half-laughing to myself about how ridiculous it was that I was leaving. I really didn’t mean it. I really liked this guy. But my half chuckle fell absolutely silent on nearby crashing ocean waves. As I walked back to my hostel, I realized I didn’t have his contact information. I only knew that he was taking the boat back to the mainland at 9:30.
At nine that morning, we rolled up to the dock hoping to catch the same boat back, only to realize that our boat company left at 8:30 and 10:30. He was leaving with the other boat company. My heart sank. Upon searching back in my memory I realized I didn’t know where he currently lived, I didn’t know what he did for work, I didn’t know his last name, and I had absolutely no way of reaching him. I lost him. And I understand now, why you never say never.