The Saddest Man at Spring Break
It was Spring Break 2003. I was 23 years old and equal parts drunk, horny and stupid. My friend invited me to go Cancun with him and his brother. His parents had a timeshare at a high end resort that we rented for the week.
Staying at the resort wasn’t the best idea for college kids. They were sticklers about noise and security guards were all over the place. Bringing girls back to our room was like trying to sneak them into the White House. Bribing the guards was nearly impossible.
For the most part, the trip was your typical spring break experience. College kids everywhere drinking all day and night. Hanging out at the pool and the beach. Bikini contests and shots of shitty tequila everywhere we went.
The first night we went out to a club called Daddio’s. I met this blond chick there who was a school teacher from Michigan. We hit it off quickly in the VIP section. I decided we needed to move to somewhere more private, like the corner of the packed club.
A couple minutes of kissing and groping quickly lead to her bent over with her skirt up. A couple minutes later I came on her back. She didn’t ask me to wipe it off or clean it up. She simply pulled her skirt down and we left together.
The week proceeded along in this fashion until our second to last night in Mexico. The night didn’t start off particularly different than the other nights. Lots of drinking, loud music, dancing, and girls. When things were winding down I wasn’t ready to go back to the hotel. I was far too coked up to call it quits. A friend and I decided to go out and hit up a local strip club. Odd how many of my stories involve strip clubs.
We took a cab out of the main part of town to a very sketchy destination. There in the middle of nowhere stood a strip club like a mirage in the desert. As soon as we got inside the girls flocked to us. They could see we were easy marks.
A young, attractive girl talked me into an private dance. She kept saying “you so handsome” and kissed me while putting her boobs in my mouth. She was trying to offer me sex and I was trying to accept, but The language barrier made things awkward. She became nervous and frustrated speaking to me in English and ended up walking away. Yes, I was turned down by a hooker.
As soon as she left another girl took her place instantly. Her English was much better, but her looks were much worse. At that point I was so fucked up and horny It didn’t matter to me. She lead me up the stairs, past the guards holding guns (just in case someone acts up) to a bedroom. Once we got into the room I did a line and we got started.
Now some of you reading this may know how coke can effect a mans ability to perform. I remember the look of sadness and disappointment on her face as she pulled down my pants and went to blow me. All she saw was a shriveled up, limp dick looking back at her. She looked up at me and only said “ohhhhhhh.” I could tell she was embarrassed for me.
That embarrassment triggered me to make one of the top five worst sexual decisions in my life. I grabbed her, picked her up and put her on the bed. I removed her panties and without hesitation went down on her. I didn’t just lick it quickly and move in for sex. No sir. I ate her pussy and licked her ass while I furiously masturbated until I built up something resembling a hard on.
I quickly put a condom on and gave it her the best I could with 3/4 of an erection. After about 5 minutes of her making fake sex sounds we both were bored. I wasn’t going to be able to cum with a condom on. I knew where this was heading. I had to break out my signature move at the time. I jerked off while I made her lick my balls. After a couple of minutes of I came.
Afterwards we talked for a few minutes. She asked why I came to a place like this and why I went down on her. Then she took a piss into a bucket and we went upon our way back downstairs
I started to sober up and realized what I had done. The realization I went down on a Mexican hooker’s pussy and ass came rushing in like a tidal wave. All I wanted to do was get out of there as quickly as possible.
I was pretty certain at that moment I had most likely contracted AIDS. I had read an article on CNN.com describing how lemon and lime juice could possibly be used to prevent AIDS in Third World Countries. I quickly grabbed as many lime and lemon wedges from the bar as I could and rushed to the bathroom. I was squeezing lemon juice into my mouth and swishing it around praying to kill the diseases I was sure I had.
I even went as far as to squirt the lemon juice into my dick hole. It wasn’t an a pleasant experience I would recommend, but I was hoping this would somehow save me from diseases.
As we left in a taxi the sun was coming up on the horizon like a big fuck you from the universe to me. I was half in tears thinking about what I had done a couple minutes beforehand. When we arrived at our room I took a xanax and went to bed. I woke up the next day and I was extremely remorseful. I had to tell my friends the story of what happened. They all look horrified by my actions.
The last day I moped around refusing to drink or party. I went out to the bars, but I didn’t indulge in anything. I made foxhole prayers. I begged God “Please don’t let me get AIDS; I promise I wont drink or do drugs tonight as penance.”
Thankfully I didn’t get AIDS and I’ve been able to go about my life continuing to make poor sexual decisions.