Sonia, 33, decides to treat herself to a solitary vacation on the island of Saint-Martin. His goal ? Recharge. She doesn’t expect to run into Ben, a beach attendant and handsome guy. A passionate story of three weeks and a sexual agreement to make people envious. Testimonial hot hot hot…
After spending a year with my head in the handlebars working like crazy and wiping out my breakup, I decided to fly to Saint-Martin. Must say that I had taken refuge in the job to support my separation. So I needed to take a break and let go. This trip was the perfect opportunity to find myself. The hotel I had booked was conducive to relaxation. A 220cm super king size bed for myself. I put down my suitcases, happy: I had ten days ahead of me.
“The stay was going to be long”
A feeling that did not last. A welcome cocktail was waiting for me at the bar. I went downstairs, determined to drink a little pick-me-up. I found myself in the middle of a crowd of people, with family or friends. Suddenly, I felt excruciatingly alone. What the hell was I doing there? I thought of my only companion, my computer (we don’t get over it).
To counter my negative thoughts, I stared at my drink ticket. The good news is that I had the power to choose who to hand it to among all the servers. It was an opportunity to make a first contact with me. I walked over to the cutest waiter of them all. It was Ben.
“I melted for his physical lifeguard”
A handsome guy. Tanned, newborn beard, big blue eyes and infinite lashes. We barely exchanged three words. I sipped my drink alone before going to bed. When I woke up, in pretty good shape, I went to the beach. I ran into Ben, who unlike the day before, took the time to introduce himself and welcome me. In addition to being a waiter, he was also a beach attendant. Every morning, he laid out the beach for the hotel guests.
Ben took my order. And, as the day went on, he brought me a lot of things to nibble and drink without my noticing. Pretty cool approach. Until it starts to rain cats and dogs. I then took shelter near the bar to work. That’s when Ben asked me if I had come here to work. I answered “a little but not too much”. He added that here, it was easy to learn to let go, that the atmosphere was “cool-cool” and that time did not pass. It was a seller.
We then discussed the island, the way of life. I felt he was flirting with me, but it wasn’t heavy. He was gentle, respectful. When he asked for my phone number, I gave it to him without hesitation. I was already melting for him, his body, his gaze, his lifeguard physique.
“I liked the idea of dating a guy who had nothing to do with me”
We enjoyed a first dinner two days later. I realized how Ben was my opposite. He had left his life in Lyon, his apartment, his work and his friends to do seasons in Saint-Martin. He loved danger, motorcycling, thrills. He was living in the moment. And that attracted me. I liked the idea of dating a guy who had nothing to do with me for a break. A parenthesis that feels good. It was more of a fantasy. That of offering yourself to someone, of letting myself be totally free, all in a heavenly setting.
The next day, we spent the end of the evening together, in a (beach) club. I was dancing barefoot, my gaze fixed on his. It was erotic. He was getting closer and closer to me. I was simpering. He kissed me. A very tender kiss on I’ll go wherever you will go by Celine Dion and Jean-Jacques Goldman.
I loved this moment, him saying to me “where are you going?” and me who answered “with you”. We went back to my room together. Lying on the bed, Ben stuck to me. He wanted to make love, but I didn’t want to. Not immediately. I wanted to savor, leave time to time.
“I abandoned myself to him, to his smell”
The next morning, Ben took me to a little cove that only the locals know about. We spent the day there, from the picnic to the sunset. Super romantic. We bathed and cuddled in the water. Pleasant and sensual. Little by little, I abandoned myself to him, his smell. I completely disconnected. We went back to the hotel and made love.
This first time was pretty ordinary. We were both restrained, like two bodies that didn’t know each other yet, don’t know if they have the same tastes, the same desires.
The day of the rocking has arrived. We went on a catamaran with tourists. I watched him dive, swim, come back on board. I felt like I had been seeing him for ten years, my eyes couldn’t let go. We couldn’t get in, at least his car had broken down, so we hitchhiked. And that got me excited. Because I’m not a big adventurer and I felt like I was doing “anything” while being with someone I trusted.
“Preliminaries under the table, something to drive you crazy”
When we got back, we sat down at the hotel bar. Ben kissed me wildly and something crazy happened: we were magnets. The slightest kiss triggered something in my stomach. We had to make love. Ben started groping me under the table. A high table that offered a magnificent spectacle to the guy in front!
I loved his caresses, I was super excited, close to going crazy it was so good. When a guy slips his hand down your panties in a public place while looking you in the eye, you lose all your bearings.
I ended up going to the bathroom to remove my bathing suit. I didn’t warn him and loved his face when he saw me pop up with coral panties in my hand.
We continued the preliminaries under the table, something to make you crazy. We then migrated to the beach, chose a deckchair and continued to fiddle with each other. It was very hot. Then Ben whispered in my ear that he had the keys to the roof top, which was closed. Of course I followed him. I could have followed him anywhere.
I had the best sex session of my life. Like what, the first time does not mean much and cannot predict the future. It was both bestial and romantic, facing the moon shining on us. My hands were looking for holds all over the table. I was sweating, felt out of myself, lulled by the noises around me. We experimented with I don’t know how many positions. The weight of his body on mine was suffocating me, I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t take any more pleasure.
“I spent almost a thousand euros to stay six more days”
All of our sexual encounters were unreal. I remember an excursion during which we made love in the sea while a group of tourists watched us. Must say that the water was transparent. Ditto when we went “to discover the fish”: we advanced in the water to the sandbank away from the beach. We made love on it. We didn’t really care about the fish.
My stay was coming to an end. When it was time to say goodbye, I saw tears under her sunglasses. A real heartbreak. He was falling in love, he told me. I took him in my arms and went off to collect my last things… That’s when I wondered what awaited me in Paris. Nothing. I could work from here.
My ticket was not exchangeable. Madness: I spent almost a thousand euros to stay six days longer. Fifteen minutes later, I found Ben. He couldn’t believe it. I loved making that decision. In a few days, he had taught me freedom and letting go. He had taught me to live on a whim, to let myself go.
“This kind of story is one of the stories that does not hurt”
During these six additional days, I went to live with him, I no longer had a hotel room. No sooner had I set foot in his apartment than I spotted the pool table. I knew we would make love on it. We wasted no time. Unforgettable and wild. Ben spread me on the table, pulled my hair, he totally dominated.
He showed me around the island and we made love everywhere, on the beaches, in nature, in lost corners. A waking dream until the hour of the “real” departure strikes. This time it was I who cried all the tears in my body. I already cared about him. He was like a drug, a drug I fell in love with.
I returned to Paris disappointed. We called each other every day and made love over the phone. He was ready to take unpaid leave to come and see me. But the days passed and, once again in my daily life, I no longer felt the need to see him, to touch him. It was fading.
I will never forget what I experienced. Two crazy, intense weeks. And I will never forget the tenor of our sexual relations. This kind of story is one of the stories that does not hurt. We keep a memory that burns the stomach. A relationship that could not have existed otherwise and in Paris. She belonged to a setting, a moment, a place…