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I fumbled through my moist wallet for a $20. Muttering “Lo siento” to the olive-skinned bartender, I exchanged the soggy tender for my declined VISA. She smiled at me with her startingly white teeth. Making a mental note to tell my bank tomorrow that I was out of the country, I slid the Corona to my bikini-clad friend on the stool next to me.
“You are awesome! Next round on me,” my fellow traveler beamed in her New England twang. “I will charge it to my room.”
She pushed the lime through the top and turned it upside down. “Jason, I know I’m a pain in the ass but could I check my phone again? Don might have called by now.”
I laughed to myself as I reached for the waterproof case in my bag. Brooke couldn’t risk getting her hair wet yet she could bring her iPhone with her to the poolside bar. As I handed her a towel to dry her hands before using the phone, she turned her attention downward towards the screen. I used this opportunity to steal a few glances from the new bride.
Having been on the Pacific coast of Costa Rica for the last week, she had developed an ambitious tan that contrasted starkly with her blonde hair and green eyes. Even with her concentrated expression, she was adorably pretty and young. Not the face of the head cheerleader but the face of the new girl in the class clutching her textbook to her chest – “Is this seat taken? ”
My eyes naturally drifted downwards towards the green garment that cradled her breasts. The top’s zipper was pulled down making me privy to some serious cleavage. The edges of her breasts ran together at the top of the hill but cascaded in opposite directions as they ran further south. The healthy but slightly pendulous orbs matched her face in pigment, but exceeded it in maturity.
My stoolmate whispered the lyrics to “Call Me Maybe” which was playing on the bar’s iPod dock and scratched her arm. The smell of Aloe suddenly became noticeable.
The ensuing silence became awkward and I cleared my throat. “Whyd’ya keep doing this to yourself, Brooke. The entire Caribbean coast is underwater. Do you really expect cell phones or the internet to be working at Don’s hotel?” I regretted the harshness of my tone as her face now directed at me became downtrodden. I continued “Listen, he’s gonna be alright but let’s be serious – Costa Rica’s infrastructure is crappy enough when the weather’s good. I had a hamster wheel powering my computer in my last hotel.”
This last line made her smile. Not with her mouth but with her eyes. I reciprocated. Perhaps it lasted a second longer than should be permitted for a honeymooning woman with a single man – a man who she met on a whitewater raft just 24 hours ago. She faltered and turned her attention back to the mobile device.
Having been deprived of her eye contact, I focused on her abdomen which was sleek from the hot spring. The pink twilight reflected off of her skin, creating an unnatural but attractive hue. Her bikini bottoms were fastened by rings on either side, exposing a great deal of skin. I wondered what noise she would make if I were to bite her hip bone.
Like most girls, Brooke possessed a 6th sense that told her she was being appraised even without directly seeing it. Subconsciously she sat up straight and smoothed out the little roll leftover from her sorority days. Then her shoulders sunk again as she unsuccessfully navigated through her smart phone. This motion caused a single droplet to start in motion. It followed a nearly invisible line of fine blonde hairs illuminated by the sun ever so delicately down to her navel piercing which now rested in between the small fold. At this juncture right below her birthmark, the sparkle continued to undulate in and out in time with her breathing. I thought of felines, Disney princesses, sex simultaneously. With a quick jerk of her neck, she broke me out of my hypnotic state.
“I’m going to the bathroom, watch my stuff for me.” She scooted off the stool and swam to the nearest ledge. Rather than taking the stairs, she used her triceps with limited success to hoist herself out. I quickly grabbed her phone before the password engaged to take a picture of her ass during this questionable maneuver. I laughed to myself as I imagined her reaction from seeing this photo. In the 24 hours that we knew each other, we managed to achieve an understanding that allowed for this type of goofing off. Just as I was about to close the camera app, a photo caught my eye and my heart skipped a beat. It was a self-potrait taken in between two mirrors. In the front mirror, a blonde-haired girl covered the nipples of her bare breasts while puckering her lips. From the back mirror’s reflection, I could see the same ass that I just took a picture of. On her bare back, the message “MISS YOU” was written in white sunscreen.
Trying to slow down my heart, I quickly looked around to make sure no one else was peering over. Looking back at the photo, a few things were clear. The girl in the photo was undoubtedly Brooke, albeit a sexier, more-dolled up nighttime version. According bursa escort to the file attributes, the file was created 2 days ago. I could see the hotel’s bathrobe hanging in the background.
Through my peripheral vision I could see my cat woman approaching. I quickly put the phone down without getting a chance to delete my photo and struck up an arbitrary conversation with the bartender about Costa Rican vs Nicaraguan rum.
I pushed an authentic Costa Rican cocktail towards my comrade hoping it would wipe the puss off her face. “I just don’t understand why he had to go on this fishing trip,” she rolled her eyes and completed her pony tail. “This was supposed to be our vacation. Now I am stuck in a third world country where they sell girls like me to guys named Enrique on ships never to be seen again.”
She seemed to keep her hands on top of her head longer than was necessary as every one of her cuves was taught and accentuated. Her hairclip rested between her teeth. I remained stolid as she waited for my reaction. My eyes involuntarily darted toward the phone.
“Seriously, the only Spanish I speak is ‘Hhhola me llamo es Brooke.’ There is no way I am going out in public alone.” She played with a tooth pick in her tooth and sought agreement in my face.
“I’ve been planning this trip for the last 6 months and now I am afraid to leave my hotel. Think about that. It’s fucked-up, Jason.”
She was finally aware of the crescendo of her monologue and became a bit self-conscious as the bar employees stared at her. Her cheeks were now a rosy red due and the heat of the natural hot springs and the alcohol weren’t helping. She quickly turned to her phone, “That’s weird, it didn’t ask me for my password.” She looked at me with a quizzical expression. “Did you use my phone?” I couldn’t keep a straight face and she knew it.
“Motherfucker!! You took a pic of my ass?!” I spit out my beer and laughed as she punched me in the arm.
“At least let me know when you’re going to take a picture like – I’d like to look good for it next time” she said. “Oh my god, my ass is getting as fat as my mother’s.”
“Your mom’s ass looks like that?” I asked. “So is she single?” I felt that if I could continue teasing she wouldn’t consider what else I might have seen.
Always a class act, Brooke was smiling and seemed to have forgotten about it as a bunch of pre-teenage boys sat on the other side of her. One of them asked her what time it was, then told her that his friend thought she was hot. The two of them ran away giggling.
As she apologized for being married and waved goodbye, my mind was running wild. Two days ago she was in the hotel with her new husband. Why would she take pictures like that for him when they were on vacation together?
Brooke had a glazed look in her eyes for the first time that evening. The alcohol was starting to visibly affect her. As we continued to make small talk, she would occasionally grind her seat, as if she were shifting to find the most comfortable part of the stool. The end result was a shifting of her suit. As I looked down at her full ass, the bikini bottoms began to loosen up making the top of her crack clearly visible. If she were an older woman, it would have been offensive. Instead, it was just as hot as hell. My thoughts rambled on.
It’s quite simple. The pictures were for someone else. The newly-wed was having an affair. She was unsatisfied with Don. Don was standed on the other side of the country. Brooke was standed –”
Suddenly she put her hand on my thigh. “…and I just saved someone from malaria today. What did you do?” I looked down at her hand in a stupor and she slowly removed it. Lowering her brow she whispered “The mosquitos are-a-bitin tonight,” and put her lips over the straw without moving her eyes from mine.
Swallowing audibly, I felt it necessary to open my mouth. It was dry and I fumbled. She sensed this and poured some of her drink down my throat. I took a deep breath, “Ok Brooke, I don’t mean to play Devil’s Advocate, but let’s clear a few things up. First of all, you gotta give Don a break.”
A middle-aged woman wearing a Brazilian bikini 2 sizes small for her walked by and said waved hello to us with her ass cheeks. My feline friend pantomimed a gag reflex in the form of her tongue sticking out and I silently whistled with my lips.
“Don… He NEVER could have anticipated the ensuing flooding. Second of all, you just turned 26 and that’s wayyyyy too old for most of the wealthy sex trade industry.”
Brooke looked at me devilishly and with a sinuous roll was off of the stool. She assumed a “Super Woman” position now as she rested her forearms on the stool and floated. There was encouragement for me to continue in her emerald eyes.
Staring at the peaks of her ass cheeks which penetrated the spring’s surface like 2 mountain peaks, I employed the same comical undertone, “Third of all, it’s not ‘Me llamo es Brooke.’ It’s just ‘Me llamo Brooke.’ And finally, I can’t help but call ‘Negative bursa escort bayan Nancy’ out on you.”
I smiled to reassure her a little but really to reassure myself more. Whatever she was feeling right now was beginning to take a hold of me. I joined her in the water making sure to keep my beer balanced on the stool.
“Here you are drinking some authentic Costa Rican alcohol in a natural hot spring powered by a volcano in the middle of paradise with a fellow-American who happens to habla espanol. Things could be worse.”‘
I contemplated the direction I was headed as a light breeze blew through the palms. “How about this, you stick with me and I will do all the talking. We will make the most of this trip but we will not be made out for dumb gringos, ya hear?”
The blonde-haired beauty stared at her knight in shining armor with dazed infatuation. Within seconds the moment culminated in a triple-kiss. Brooke with the mouth of my Corona; the twilit-sky with the bottle’s bottom. Sticking her magnificent mammaries against me, Brooke held up two fingers to the bartender.
It had been just a week after she received her nursing degree that Don popped the question to Brooke. She was young, naïve and craved direction. And she loved Don; at least she thought she did. During the course of their engagement, the two remained very much enamored with and faithful to one another. On the occasional night out with the girls, Brooke would be sure to text Don as soon as she got to the bar, intermittently in the bathroom, and when she was leaving.
Don was very aware that men found his girl attractive. More than a few times, Don had to rescue his damsel in distress from groping bar patrons. One time, things got out of hand during a football game at the local bar and a drunk through his beer on Brooke’s white t-shirt. Brooke sat there opened mouth as all the guys hooted and hollered about seeing her tits through her shirt. What a slut she was for not wearing a bra! Don’s face turned red from both anger and excitement as he took her by the hand and walked her to the car.
Their sex life held great promise. While Don was always attracted to Brooke’s body, he was a bit awkward in the beginning. Through sheer repetition Don slowly started to loosen up and adapted to Brooke’s bedtime Shenanigans. Before long, he was an able and willing participant in some of the most perverse of bedroom behavior. Through Rachel’s encouragement, he learned to tie the most secure of knots using twine rope as well as scarfs from his fiancée’s wardrobe. They had several safety words in the event that things got out of hand which they often did. And then it happened.
Don was outside tending to the garden outside their Connecticut condo when he heard the animal like shriek coming from the open window of the bedroom. Bursting through the doors, he found her hanging from the shower bar naked, grasping at the rope frantically for leverage. Beneath her lay a stool that had toppled over. Grabbing her hips, he lifted her up so that she could breathe. Wide-eyed he grabbed a pair of scissors and removed the rope from her neck. Both man and woman struggled to catch their breath as she lay down in his arms on the bathroom floor. As Don would notice a few minutes after the incident, there was an open magazine featuring various S&M-type scenarios just below the toppled stool.
Since that day, he would have nothing to do with the sadistic and masochistic tendencies that Brooke so desperately craved. Yet the young blonde had become so lost in the games that she could no longer get off normally. In the ensuing weeks, the young couple’s sex life faded from lackluster to almost non-existent. A vibrator as well as anal beads that Brooke’s ex-boyfriend used to use on her came in handy during this time. She would watch the most degenerate filth that the Internet had to offer while being filled in two holes.
In the few nights that Brooke tried to seduce Don, he was too tired from his office job to get it up. Other nights Brooke would disappear with the pretense that her friends needed someone to talk to when in reality it was just the opposite. The texts that Don used to receive religiously all but stopped. But he still loved her and was determined to make things work. The couple was married in a Roman Catholic church as planned. Don’s family, always ready to lend a helping hand, took care of their honeymoon to Costa Rica.
That morning I was privy to a pink expanse of paradise. I maintained focus on the peak on front of me almost close enough to touch. Covered with sweat I breathed in the natural scent and kept pushing forward.
Yes, it was another sunrise running alongside Costa Rica’s most famous volcano. I tried to get out as early as possible to beat the rain that was so prevalent during this time of year. With the schedule I followed in Central America I would be able to fit in a nap, an excursion, and a nighttime friend if I played my cards right.
I returned back to my hotel which stood escort bursa austerely in front of the the Arenal Volcano and went through my ritual of post-run stretches. As I did so, the events of the previous night began to float back to me in fragments.
“I shouldn’t have tried to kiss her,” I thought.
I had gotten more involved with a married woman in the past than I should have and the results were disastrous. I had no desire to bring such an ill fate upon myself or anyone else ever again.
“But she practically begged for it!” While never a natural, I had experienced enough with women over the years to become somewhat of an expert in body language. Drunk or not, Brooke was not acting like a newly-wed woman last night. I told myself this repeatedly as I replayed her exit.
After a few drinks she lay on her back and allowed me to push her to a secluded section of the hot spring pool. We were underneath an artificial palm tree and silent as I massaged her hands. After taking her closed eyes and purring as a sign, I went in for the kill. After the electric shock of the initial kiss, I was given the cold cheek. The 5 minute walk from her hotel to mine could not have lasted longer that night.
Snapping out of my reverie, I headed towards the dining room and grabbed a glass of orange juice. Just as I was about to press the elevator button to go up, I heard my name and turned around. Still adjusting to the indoor lighting I squinted for a few seconds before recognizing the girl in green.
“I found this in my bag last night. I must’ve put it in the waterproof case with my phone. I was just gonna leave it at the desk, but…”
Brooke handed me my credit card. With her tan a shade darker than it was yesterday, and with her hair dry and free, she looked blonder than I have previously seen. The creases of her mouth would not quite let her smile although her eyes suggested friendliness. The green camisole she wore was form fitting and I had to consciously focus on her face as to not stare further down.
We both started talking at the same time. Stopped. She nodded at me to go ahead.
“How is Don doing, have you heard from him?”
“Oh he is doing really well actually,” she played with her hotel keychain. “Yeah, he found a hotel that was running a generator so he was able to use their internet last night.”
“Nice! Well that’s great, Brooke. Does he have an idea of when he is gonna be able to leave the Caribbean side?”
“Yeah, he is doing well, he seemed happy, uhhhh.” Her speech began to speed up. “Yeah, the coastal roads are a total shit show. His best bet is to take some of the landlocked local roads. They’re slow as fuck and not the safest I’ve seen but they’ll get him home.” She shrugged her shoulders rigidly and crossed her arms. Her stature implied “You don’t need to show concern anymore, seriously.”
“That’s great. I am happy for him. Good…”
An old local pushing a luggage cart accidentally brushed shoulders with Brooke as her fidgeting had caused her to back up without realizing it. Before she could regain her composure I changed my tone.
“Listen Brooke, about last night… I”
“Please don’t worry about it, it’s totally cool. You don’t need to… really, Jason.”
“No, no… listen, just hear me out. ” I flagged down a waiter for another orange juice. I wasn’t used to using my voice this early in the morning. “Do you want some?” She said no with her hand.
“Well alright. As I told you guys when I met you during rafting, I’ve been travelling solo this trip. You and Don… especially you, you guys are the coolest people I’ve met so far. I would never wanna”
“Jason, I appreciate it, I really do. You don’t have to apologize for anything.”
“But I feel horrible about how it ended, Brooke.”
“Nothing happened. We had a few drinks and a good time. After Don comes back the next round is on us. He told me in the e-mail about this place…”
Soon every one of her sentences began with “we”. As this pepped her up, I slowly became more detached from the conversation. I looked out the window at a female runner; deliciously olive skin with blue eyes. Such Ticas were God’s gift to Western men.
I subconsciously detected the inflection of a question directed at me. Brooke’s gaze had opened up from 5 minutes ago and her green eyes were piercing. Sensing my confusion she restated “Have you planned any excursions today?” I had. Well, maybe Don and she would join me for the waterfall rappelling when he returned. Great!
I went out to dinner with my Amazon Kindle as my date. As I normally would do on such solo trips, I lived vicariously through the characters of my Hemingway or Fitzgerald books as I indulged in some vino blanco. Basking in my buzzed euphoria, I paid the bill and surveyed my foreign surroundings. The only pretty girls that I could spot were looking to sell something.
After I paid my bill, I swaggered across the single lane highway. I admonished a 17 year old Tica by the bus stop to stay in school. Dressed in a white tube top and boy shorts, she replied that she needed the money so she could buy books. I had no response and continued my trot toward the hotel. My euphoria dissipated into vague unhappiness. This was unacceptable in Costa Rica.
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