

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 nightclub. 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.
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 I, 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.
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.
xoNecole is always looking for new voices and empowering stories to add to our platform. If you have an interesting story or personal essay that you'd love to share, we'd love to hear from you. Contact us at submissions@xonecole.com.
Featured image by Savannah Taider/Instagram
The most Gemini woman you'll ever meet. Communications & community enthusiast, I run a media platform centered around spirituality, and I'm always looking to connect with fellow creatives. Follow me on Instagram & Twitter @savannahtaider
Eva Marcille On Starring In 'Jason’s Lyric Live' & Being An Audacious Black Woman
Eva Marcille has taken her talents to the stage. The model-turned-actress is starring in her first play, Jason’s Lyric Live alongside Allen Payne, K. Michelle, Treach, and others.
The play, produced by Je’Caryous Johnson, is an adaptation of the film, which starred Allen Payne as Jason and Jada Pinkett Smith as Lyric. Allen reprised his role as Jason for the play and Eva plays Lyric.
While speaking to xoNecole, Eva shares that she’s a lot like the beloved 1994 character in many ways. “Lyric is so me. She's the odd flower. A flower nonetheless, but definitely not a peony,” she tells us.
“She's not the average flower you see presented, and so she reminds me of myself. I'm a sunflower, beautiful, but different. And what I loved about her character then, and even more so now, is that she was very sure of herself.
"Sure of what she wanted in life and okay to sacrifice her moments right now, to get what she knew she deserved later. And that is me. I'm not an instant gratification kind of a person. I am a long game. I'm not a sprinter, I'm a marathon.
America first fell in love with Eva when she graced our screens on cycle 3 of America’s Next Top Model in 2004, which she emerged as the winner. Since then, she's ventured into different avenues, from acting on various TV series like House of Payne to starring on Real Housewives of Atlanta.
Je-Caryous Johnson Entertainment
Eva praises her castmates and the play’s producer, Je’Caryous for her positive experience. “You know what? Je’Caryous fuels my audacity car daily, ‘cause I consider myself an extremely audacious woman, and I believe in what I know, even if no one else knows it, because God gave it to me. So I know what I know. That is who Je’Caryous is.”
But the mom of three isn’t the only one in the family who enjoys acting. Eva reveals her daughter Marley has also caught the acting bug.
“It is the most adorable thing you can ever see. She’s got a part in her school play. She's in her chorus, and she loves it,” she says. “I don't know if she loves it, because it's like, mommy does it, so maybe I should do it, but there is something about her.”
Overall, Eva hopes that her contribution to the role and the play as a whole serves as motivation for others to reach for the stars.
“I want them to walk out with hope. I want them to re-vision their dreams. Whatever they were. Whatever they are. To re-see them and then have that thing inside of them say, ‘You know what? I'm going to do that. Whatever dream you put on the back burner, go pick it up.
"Whatever dream you've accomplished, make a new dream, but continue to reach for the stars. Continue to reach for what is beyond what people say we can do, especially as [a] Black collective but especially as Black women. When it comes to us and who we are and what we accept and what we're worth, it's not about having seen it before. It's about knowing that I deserve it.”
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
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These 5 Simple Words Changed My Dating Life & Made It Easier To Let Go Of The Wrong Men
Dating in 2025 often feels like meandering through an obscure tropical jungle: It can be beautiful, exciting, and daunting, yet nebulous when you’re in the thick of it. When we can’t see the forest for the trees, we often turn to our closest friends, doting family, and even nosy co-workers for advice. While others can undoubtedly imbue a much-needed fresh perspective, some of the best advice you’re searching for already lies within you.
My dating life has been a whirlwind to put it mildly, and each time I’d heard a questionable response or witnessed an eyebrow-raising action from a potential beau, I’d overanalyze for hours despite the illuminating tug in my spirit or pit of my stomach churning. And then I’d hold a conference call with my trusted friends just to convince myself of an alternative scenario, even though I’d already been supernaturally tipped off that he was not in alignment with me.
Fortunately, five simple words have simplified my dating process and ushered in clarity faster: “Would my husband do this?”
A couple of years ago, I met an entertainment lawyer who was tonguing down a twenty-something-year-old woman for breakfast while I slurped my green smoothie and chomped on a flatbread sandwich. Okay, Black love, I grinned and thought as I sauntered out of the Joe & The Juice. As soon as I stepped down from the front door, a torrential downpour of Miami summer rain cascaded and throttled me back inside to wait out the storm.
I grabbed a hot green tea and vacillated between peering out the wet door and anxiously checking my watch. My lengthy agenda started with attending the Tabitha Brown and Chance Brown’s “Black Love” panel, and I was already late. That’s when the lawyer introduced himself to me, after he made a joke about neither one of us wanting to get soaked by the rain. His female companion had braved the storm, leaving us to find our commonalities.
We both lived in L.A. and had traveled to the American Black Film Festival to expand our network. He represented various artists, including entertainment writers, while I was working as a writer/creative producer in Hollywood.
While there is no shortage of internet advice on how to strategically meet a prominent man at conferences, if I spend my hard-earned funds on career growth, I have tunnel vision, and that doesn’t include finding Mr. Right. So, I stowed his contact details away as strictly professional.
As the humidity and mosquitoes were rising around L.A., two months later, another suitor-turned-terrible match cooled off after three unimpressive dates and a bevy of red flags. I posted what some of my friends called a thirst trap, but it was really me wearing a black freakum jumpsuit with a plunging neckline to my friend’s 35th birthday soiree despite feeling oh, so unsexy and bloated on my cycle.
I’d been waiting to post a sassy caption and finally had the perfect picture to match: “You not asking for too much, you just asking the wrong MF.”
That’s when the entertainment lawyer swooped into my DMs and asked me to dinner. I was quite confused. Is he asking me on a date? Or is this professional? Common sense would’ve picked the former. Once it clicked that this would in fact be a date, I told my mentor, who’s been happily married for over twenty years and has often been a guiding light and has steered me away from the wrong men.
Upon telling him about how we met, he emphatically stated, “He ain’t it.” He followed up with a simple question, "You have to ask yourself: Would my husband do this? Would you tell others that you met your husband, tonguing down another woman, and later married him?"
Ouch. The thought-provoking question cleared any haze. Prior to going out with the lawyer, the first thing I inquired about was the woman.
“You saw that?” He said, taken aback that I’d witnessed his steamy PDA. Surely, anyone with two open eyes peeped him caressing her backside as he kissed her in the middle of the coffee shop.
He brushed her off as a casual someone he’d gone on a couple of dates with but had since stopped talking to. He said he hadn’t been in a serious relationship in over three years. Though I was still doubtful, dating in L.A. is treacherous and ephemeral. Making it past three months is considered a rarity.
With my antennae alert, I dined with him at a cozy beachside steakhouse restaurant where we were serenaded by a live jazz band. I’d emphasized forming a platonic friendship first.
“I’ll come to you,” he obliged. I liked that he had made me a priority by driving over 50 miles to see me. I also liked the effort he made to check in with me daily. But I still couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that he initiated on a professional pretense and then alley hooped through the back door on a romantic venture, which bombarded me with confusion.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my dating life, God is not the author of confusion; any man who brings confusion, rather than clarity, is simply not The One. It doesn’t matter how many boxes he checks–eventually, that confusion will manifest itself into bigger problems, in time.
After diving into deeper conversations on the phone, post our first dinner date, I quickly realized this man was indeed not The One for me. But I’m grateful for the valuable lesson I learned.
I don’t expect some unattainable fairytale of a husband; we all have our own flaws and conflict is inevitable, but after dating for two decades, through failure and success, I’ve realized that the person I ultimately marry must mirror the values I exert into the world. He must reciprocate kindness, patience, and respect. He must be quick to listen and slow to respond. He needs to be forgiving and trustworthy, practice healthy communication, and be a man of his word at the bare minimum.
If I’d had “Would my husband do this?” in my toolbox when I was dating and floundering in stagnant relationships, in my twenties, it would’ve saved me a lot of precious time. But now that I’m equipped with the reminder, it’s allowed me to ground myself in my non-negotiables and set/maintain the standard for the special person, I’ll one day say, “I do,” to.
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