Michael and Kathy: The Black Banana

Steve had done well after his move east and become a multimillionaire. Many, many, multi's.

Kathy and I got a text from him in early June:

Got a little place on beach in Costa Rica. Quaint town w/great bar a walk away. Can u guys get down here EOM or sooner. I'll be here to 7/3 but u can stay longer. Will send jet to SNA to get u, take u back. Luv u both- Steve.

We hadn't seen him in almost a year. He'd stayed with us for three days the previous August while he was finishing up some business in the area.

We were sitting at the kitchen table in our robes finishing breakfast. Kathy smiled a lecherous smile across at me and got that smokey look in her eyes. "I'm good until August, how 'bout you?" She ran a toe up my inner thigh while taking a sip of coffee.

I mentally sorted through my calendar. "I've got a project until the end of the month and I can't leave it. We'll have from the 30th to the 7th though, so yeah, let him know. Sounds like we could do it."

"I mean," she quipped, "how can we say no. It's Steve, right?"

I took a sip of coffee and nodded my head. "Exactly. It's Steve." The smoke in her eyes said we were on the same wavelength, thinking the same thing: our first time together, the three of us.

He replied quickly, telling us to bring nothing but light clothing- shorts, short sleeves, and bathing suits. He was pretty specific about Kathy's. She had several but absolutely had to bring the powder blue two-piece.

She laughed when she read it. "He just likes that one because there's almost no pieces to those two pieces."

She was right: a couple of sky blue triangles that barely covered her nipples and a patch that did little to cover her femininity. When she walked by, men couldn't help but look. And the women they were with couldn't help but swat them on the back of the head when they did. Even at 32, she wore it well. "He just likes to watch you take it off!" I chided back.

It was a 6 hour flight, The plane was small but incredibly comfortable. "I could get used to this," Kathy said as we sat facing each other eating chicken tacos and drinking rum with whatever mixer was in the cabin.

"I'll see if finance can get one for the firm," I laughed out loud.

"Ya think?"

We landed at dusk and were pretty toasted by then. Steve was standing next to the open limo door.

He walked up to us, all smiles. "Hey guys, long time no see!" He and I shook hands and hugged warmly. "I'm so glad you could make it." He moved toward Kathy, and she toward him.

"Oh god, we've missed you!" she exclaimed as she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him full on the lips. He ran his hands down her body, to her hips. He squeezed her butt in a sensual embrace. She was horny; a little alcohol did that to her. Steve and I looked at each other and smiled: she would be insatiable tonight.

Kathy and I sat facing him. He was facing forward. There was a cordial quiet full of nervous anticipation, sexual tension. Their eyes were locked on each other, mentally unbuttoning a blouse or unbuckling a belt. Kathy was squirming in her seat He had to periodically adjust his pants. I felt like a chaperon keeping a couple of teenagers' hands off each other.

"Diego, this is Michael and Kathy... Smith..." he said, addressing the desk clerk, "and they will be my guests."

"Si, senior Steve," he replied, "they will need keys, no?"

"Yes, ah, si por favor," he replied as he and Kathy quickly exited toward the cabanas, both laughing.

The lobby was small with a sofa and a pair of side chairs on either side of the entrance. Worn ochre Spanish tile led up to the counter, out to an atrium, a dimly lit lounge on the left, and a coffee counter on the right. A set of stairs led up to the restaurant.

I waited behind, patiently waiting for Diego to find the keys. It didn't take long, really. I lingered in the lobby looking at pamphlets and a jungle poster with captions in Spanish. Finally I picked up the luggage and headed toward our cabana.

Eight modest cabanas, four on each side, opened onto the atrium. Palms, ferns, flowering shrubs, and a creek-like water feature meandered the entire length until it drained into a kidney shaped pool. Looking out over the pool and several other water features was our cabana, the largest of the nine.

I had a good idea of what I would see when I opened the door. I set the luggage down next to the door. "Can't leave you two alone for a minute, can I!" I said in mock shock.

They were both naked, on the bed, heavily involved in a frantic 69.

Kathy disengaged his thick, fully engorged, cock from her mouth. "God I've missed this!" she exclaimed, her voice husky with lust, then went back to sucking his cock.

I started taking my off my shirt. While I did, Steve turned around, parted her legs missionary style with his knees, and plunged into her. There was no hesitation, no pause. By the time I had my belt unbuckled and pants unzipped, she was being ruthlessly fucked; there was no mercy in his deep, rapid thrusts. Her gasps and moans became cries rising in pitch and volume,

"Harder damn you Steve," she cried, "faster, oh shit oh god oh yes Steve I'm gonna cum faster harder oh god oh god it's there it's oh god..." her legs wrapped around his thighs, hips thrust up, toes curled, "I cumming Jesus fucking christ..." she pulled his head down to her titis, "bite them hard..." she quivered when he did, "cum on my titis babe..." they kissed, tongues and lips passionately probing, "... on my tits, I want you to cum on my tits."

His staccato pace kept up long enough for me to get out of my shoes, socks, and underwear. He pulled out of her and stroked himself twice. The first of his load spat onto her chin and lower lip, most of the rest in her cleavage, the last dribbles into her naval and abdomen.

Her tongue lapped at the drips on her lip. He pushed what was on her chin up to her lips. He moved her torso until she could take his cock, still dripping strings of semen, into her mouth.

"God Kathy." He said, still slightly breathless, "I've been thinking about this since you... we..."

"Yeah, me and Michael both..."

"So that was a nice quickie," I chimed in, "can I join in?" From the time I got the keys until he shot his load over my wife's tits, it had only been fifteen, maybe twenty, minutes. And now I was naked and rock hard after watching their torrid fucking.

He laughed and got out of bed. "So you want your wife back, bro?" He knew we would both have her again several times that night.

She was finger-painting her body with his cum. "Come over here lover," she said in a lusty whiskey voice, "looks like you could use a little fluffing..."

"... and it looks like you could use a wash cloth," I chuckled. Her torso glistened with shiny white streaks. "Steve, can you..."

He reached into the bathroom, "...here," and threw over a towel. Kathy sucked and stroked me slowly as I wiped the streaks off her body, bent to kiss her, slid my knees between hers, and slowly penetrated the warm, still very moist, very wet flesh. She gasped.

Her eyelids grew heavy. Our movements were slow, the strokes long, her hips meeting each thrust with languid sensuality. She pulled me down, urging my mouth onto each breast. She moaned as I sucked, bit, teased, and squeezed the soft, firm flesh. She's had her moment of uninhibited lust and sexual abandon. She wanted to make love now.

"This feels so good," she cooed." Her legs locked behind mine. We kissed, touched, caressed.

Some, perhaps most, would call it perverted or somehow deviant; there was no question about the unique relationship between the three of us. I loved her deeply and knew she felt the same. Yes, the sex was always great, sometimes like now, incredible. How I came to let her and Steve fall in love was a question none of us could answer; I doubt I could have stopped it; I'm not sure now I would have wanted it any other way. There was as much enjoyment for me watching as there was for them doing. Other men were of momentary pleasure, but Steve was different. It was always erotically exciting to watch his erect cock slip between the soft pink folds of her pussy, listen to her gasp as it happened, and hear her moans as he filled her. I enjoyed watching other men orgasm inside of her, but Steve was special. No psychiatrist in the world could figure it out, though some would probably like to try. I know it sounds like all the three of us ever did was fuck, but we's had history long before we had sex. Even with his vast wealth I wasn't threatened by sharing her with him; I never doubted for a moment that, when they were done with the sex, it would always be me she would wake up with in the morning.

Kathy increased the tempo. Her legs tightened a little tighter around my thighs. She laughed. "I thought I was gonna last a little longer..." Her fingernails dug into my shoulders, then relaxed, the tempo slowed again, the tension in her legs eased. "... nice, so nice, quick like a little electric volt in my pussy..."

She looked up at me, her eyes half closed. "Steve will be leaving day after tomorrow," she said quietly, sadly, almost as a whisper. My thrusts had slowed; the heat remained.

"Did he say what time?"

"Afternoon some time."

"Do you want to spend some time with him? Alone?" I asked spontaneously. I had never asked that before- it had always been the three of us- and wondered why I'd asked now. Maybe it was the sadness I'd just heard in her whisper, maybe it was the laughter, the sheer joy, I'd heard as they ran to the cabana.

"It's always been the three of... oh god, that feels so good, Michael..." another mini... "three of us... I don't know what you're doing right now but it's driving me... oh god oh god... oh fuck... right up a fucking wall..." another, then another.

I embedded my cock all the way into her pussy, got onto my knees, and lifted her legs over my shoulders.

"Fuck you're so deep so deep fuck, Michael..."

I slammed into her, again and again and again. "Kath, I'm going to take a long, long walk on the beach tomorrow morning..."

"Oh god I love you..." she responded. Her tits quaked, muscles tightened, eyes shut tight, her hands pulled at my shoulders, "... harder Michael faster oh god I love you... cum in me cum in me just cum in me please..."

I did, throbbing, thrusting, filling her pussy with warm thick ropes of semen as she screamed in absolute unadulterated pleasure.

I collapsed on top of her, my cock turning flaccid. "It won't bother you that it will be just me and Steve? I don't want to put our marriage..."

I rolled over to her left. "What we are is complex, what we have is complex." I was collecting my thoughts as we spoke. "I don't want to risk our marriage either. I hope, I know, this won't. Or it shouldn't. You and I are the 'we' here, you and he are the 'we' there, the three of us are 'we'. I enjoy watching you get pleasure out of other men just like you enjoy watching me get pleasure from other women.

"But with Steve..." she interrupted.

"I know: with Steve, it's different because you're in love with him. Too. And that's what makes it so insane, so complex, like a gorgonian knot." I paused, still working through my thoughts."

"You know I'd never leave with him," she inserted, "at least I hope you know, that you have faith in that."

"I know that Kathy," I replied, "I do. And I also know that we'd still... that if you did... if you went away with him, we'd still need the same things we get from each other now, don't you know?

"I almost cheated on you... with Steve..." she said, her speech halting, thinking about how she was going to say next, "... that first time we...did it... together..."

"I know lover, you told me..."

She turnned on her side to face me. "... and I've never had sex with anyone else without you... being there."

"I know that, too..."

"Steve is so..." She paused. It was difficult to tell if she was looking for clarity or permission, honesty or something else entirely. "I just sometime wonder what would have happened if you had been ten minutes later? Would we still be... what we are?"

That thought had crossed my mind that night but never since. "But I wasn't ten minutes later, was I? And seeing the two of you make deep, passionate love that night..." I moved up on one elbow, "... it put all of this into a...well, it's complex, isn't it, my love."

Steve came into the bedroom and collapsed on the bed; we all slept like the dead.

Steve was the first up. I got up, dressed in some khaki shorts and a t-shirt, and walked up to the office. Steve was there, cellphone in one hand, cup of coffee in the other.

"Hey bro," he said with a fist bump, "it's been great having you here. Sorry I have to leave tomorrow."

"What time?" I asked. I kinda knew the answer but wanted to hear it for sure.

"I have an event I need to be at in San Diego tomorrow night..."

"So what, about noon?"

"About then, maybe earlier... 'bout a five hour flight..."

"Kathy says she's like to spend some time with you..." He looked at me, perplexed. I could almost read his mind: Are you saying you are ok with letting me fuck your wife without you being there? "...so..."

He set his coffee down.

"... she'd like that. A lot." And I said to myself, so would I. It would be pushing the limits of our relationship but I had to know what those limits were. How much fire could I play with fire before I got burned? And what would it mean to get burned?

Another couple had come in from the atrium and sat across from us. A balding man, maybe my age but probably a little older, and a young woman in her late teens or early twenties. Her eyes fixed on me as soon as she entered the room: steel gray framed by raven black shoulder length hair. Cherubic build, some baby fat on arms and face but otherwise cute. Not beautiful, just cute. She was too young to be his daughter but didn't look old enough to be married, at least to him. They each poured themselves a cup of coffee and sat on the sofa nearest the entrance.

"You'll be where?"

"Picking up some rays," I replied. At 7 AM or so, sure, "maybe walk into town... if anything is open."

Kathy came in a few minutes later wearing light blue khakis and a white crew neck shirt. She came up and kissed us both, Steve on the cheek and me full mouth. The man sitting on the couch looked over at us. I could tell he had mentally disrobed Kathy and was feeling her tits and having wild sex. The young woman kept her gaze on me or, really, in my direction, flitting, with an occasional fix on me. I had to say, it was moldy disconcerting and could easily be misunderstood. I couldn't tell if it was flirting or a cry for help.

The town was small: one could walk from one end to the other in half an hour. Touristy, not dissimilar to TJ or Ensenada. A little more expensive and with a ton more class. We spent most of the day going from shop to shop and bar to bar. We started walking back in the late afternoon, all of us tired an slightly depressed: it would be our last night together for who knew how long. We had dinner in the upstairs restaurant and retired for the night.

I got up a little after daybreak, walked along the beach toward town, had a late breakfast, looked through some shops to kill time, and started back about 10 with a certain amount of unfocused dread. When I got to the hotel, I smiled: Kathy was sitting at the coffee bar.

"He just left," she said. There was depression, a melancholy in her voice. "He said he'd be in OC from a few days before Thanksgiving until January some time." She dabbed at a tear then laughed. "That would be him. On the move to nowhere in particular to be."

"Yeah," I replied, "he was always late for practice but was the star when he finally got there."

"Holla, senior e señora Smith, buenas dias." A middle aged woman approached us with an envelope. Surprised. We'd forgotten our registration name. "Senior Steve leave this for you this morning and want me to tell you is important for you to open rapido,"

"Buenas dias e Gracias señora," I replied in my slaughtered Spanish. As she turned to leave, Kathy opened the letter.

"Be in the lounge at 3:00 tomorrow afternoon. Kathy: the blue bikini. Wear it. Promise you'll love having a black banana." OK, cryptic enough. It was written for both of us but specific dress for Kath only. And was the black banana an original drink from this bar? Was it supposed to be for both of us? How did he know we would love it? Kathy liked bananas but I wasn't especially fond of them. Didn't dislike them but they seemed to make my tongue itch so I more or less avoided them. What was so special about 3:00? Enigmatic. Our minds were going especially crazy over the reason for wearing a bikini in a bar at 3 in the afternoon. In a vacation beach community like this it wouldn't be unusual, but so specific?

We walked back to our cabana. The enigmatic letter had more or less broken the melancholy: Steve was still in the equation somewhere. We went into the bedroom and noticed for the first time that the back wall was drapes. Steve must have known about it but had said nothing; it hid a veranda with lounge chairs. From the veranda, a pathway led through a dense tropical forest. Like looking through a green tunnel the light at the end of which was azure blue: the ocean.

"Holy shit," she exclaimed,"I didn't know that was there!" We held hands and walked the path toward the beach, asking ourselves why Steve hadn't told us about it and wondering what we'd find when we got there.

It was white sand, small 3 inch waves lapping up against the beach, and the beach itself was fenced off about 50 yards in either direction with thick jungle behind: incredibly isolated. A few yards on the left was a volleyball net and, on the right, a yellow canvas cabana with a small circular concrete barbecue pit.

"C'mon Michael," she demanded, "let's go skinny-dipping!" She pulled off her shirt and shorts. No panties; she was naked. Whatever depression had engulfed her was gone now. I stripped off my clothes and ran into the water a few steps behind her.

We were used to the cold Pacific; this was as warm as bathwater. And it was so clear that we could see shoals of small fish approach our bodies as if curious: can we eat this or will it eat us?

The water was shoulder high, Kathy's breasts floating like pale buoys on the surface. She smiled at me, her eyes looking down into the water. "Looks like your soldier needs some attention, sailor." She giggled like a little girl, waddled through the water toward me, and impaled herself on my sailor. Not much happened- we kissed a lot, felt each other up; it was just fun to have her as my wife again. We screwed for a few more minutes, separated, then waded back onto the beach. We hadn't thought to bring towels so picked up our clothes and walked back naked. I walked behind her admiring her cute butt, gorgeous figure, and copper blonde hair falling down her back like cascading embers.

We decided on an early dinner; the question was here or in town? We flipped a coin: here. We decided to be square chic : barefoot, matching white crewneck tops, and light blue khaki shorts. In other words: what we were wearing.

The upstairs restaurant had a distinct Spanish atmosphere to it, mixed with Mayan and Incan iconology. Neither the Inca nor the Mayan were ever anywhere near Costa Rica but most of the Europeans and North Americans who visited here didn't know that. There were six square dark mahogany tables, each with four overstuffed leather seats. Sitting at one end of the tables, next to a picture window overlooking the bay in which we had just frolicked, were the couple I had seen this morning. We asked our hostess if we could sit at the opposite end.

"Yes," she replied, handed us menus, and seated us there.