Chapter 0 - The Frog Prince

 
It’d been one of those really, truly, horribly, awful days.

I was rewarding myself with a bottle of sweet Riesling and a romcom. I’d considered printing out a picture of Keith and throwing knives at it, but I didn’t want to ruin the walls.

I uncorked the bottle and flopped onto the couch, remote in one hand, wine in the other.

The previews for the movie started, and that was when I noticed the frog.

“Holy shit!” I screamed. Before I knew what I was doing, I threw the remote at the frog.

It hopped easily out of the way of the projectile.

The frog blinked and asked, “really, a remote?”

By this time, I had jumped over the back of the couch and was crouched and ready, the wine bottle clutched between my breasts. “S-shut up!” I shrieked. I should mention that when I’m surprised, I turn into an idiot.

“Did you just tell me to shut up?” the frog asked, rather sarcastically.

I shook my head. Frogs don’t talk. Frogs can’t talk.

“This isn’t happening,” I muttered, taking a gulp of wine right out of the bottle. Not that classy, but who was going to judge me, the frog? “Nope,” I said, “not happening.”

“I hate to disappoint you, but this is happening,” the frog replied. It sounded cheery. “Yes, there is a talking frog in your living room.”

The opening credits of the movie had started, a familiar song accompanying them.

I stared at the amphibian, flabbergasted. I rubbed my face and took another swing of wine. “How… why?”

The frog blinked again. “Why what? Why am I in your apartment, or why can I talk?”

“Both?” I eyed the frog and wondered if I should throw something else at it. Something bigger than a remote that it couldn’t dodge. But what if I killed it? Then I’d have to clean it up. And should I kill something that could talk? That would probably be straight-up murder.

I took another gulp of wine, just to be safe.

“I’m in your apartment as a result of the reason I can talk,” the frog continued. “I’m under a curse and I need you to break it.”

A curse! This was getting more and more ridiculous.

“Wait.” I gripped the back of the couch with one hand. “Wait, so you’re saying you’re a magic frog and that’s why you can talk, and that’s why you’re in my apartment.” I eyed it. “How’d you even get in here?”

The frog just blinked and said, “did you know that you’re the only woman who’s single, straight, and between the age of twenty and thirty that lives in this building?”

“I wasn’t aware,” I grumbled, glaring at the hateful thing. “What about those two girls who live down the hall? I never seen any guys leaving their place.”

“They’re gay,” the frog said, amused by my reaction.

I guess that explained why one of them had complimented my butt the other day. I shook my head. “And how do you know that and also, why does that matter?”

“It’s the curse,” the frog said dismissively. “It tells me where to find the closest person who can break it.”

It took me too many seconds to realize what it meant. I lifted a finger from the wine bottle and pointed at myself. “Me? You want me to break this curse of yours?”

“If it’s not too much trouble. I know how busy you are,” the frog said, giving me a truly sarcastic look.

I remembered that I was wearing just a sports bra, my underwear, and a pair of my comfiest socks.

Turning red, I crouched even lower behind the couch. “Oh my god don’t look at me,” I moaned. I recalled how I’d stormed inside, thrown off all my clothes, and grabbed the bottle of wine after popping in the movie. I seriously hoped the frog hadn’t been there the whole time.

I reached over the couch and groped for the nearest blanket. One handedly, I pulled it over myself. The wine bottle was like a lifeline, and I took another swallow from it.

“If it consoles you, a frog’s vision isn’t anything like a human’s,” the frog said. It turned slightly so it wasn’t facing me, and looked up and around the room. “So, now you know all the basics, right? I have a curse, it needs to be broken, and you’re the one to do it.”

“…how?” I squeaked.

The frog turned its head back to face me. “Pick me up and give me a kiss.”

“I’d rather not,” I said quickly. “Can’t you find someone else to do it?”

“As much as I’m sure we’d both love to have someone else break the curse, it dictates that it must be broken by a single, straight woman who’s between twenty and thirty. Unfortunately for me, it does not require me to find a beautiful, intelligent, witty woman.” The last part was said rather pointedly.

I was reminded of Keith and my desire to throw knives at his face. Perhaps the frog could meet a similar fate.

“Can’t you just find… someone in a different apartment building?” I asked, pushing away my anger. It was awkward, but I managed to climb back over the couch. I sat down, the blanket wrapped tightly around me.

“No time.” The frog hopped closer to the couch. “Well, get to it then. Pick me and give me a kiss.”

I had thought that I’d established I wasn’t going to do that.

“I’m not going to do that,” I reminded it.

“It won’t be so bad,” the frog said. “Well, I assume it won’t be so bad. And once it’s done it’s done, and I’m sure you’re never going to have to kiss a frog again.”

“One time is one too many times,” I grumbled. I took another drink from the bottle and eyed the frog. I mean, I’m sure it wouldn’t be the worst thing I’d ever done, and probably not the worst thing I’d ever do. I remembered freshman year, when I was drunk off my ass and ate a worm on a dare. Kissing a frog was not worse than that.

I exhaled loudly and took another drink.

“Alright,” I said, “so let’s say that I kiss you. Then what happens?”

“Then my curse is broken,” the frog said. I imagined that if it could roll its eyes, it would. “Are you honestly this stupid?”

“I just want to know what I’m getting myself into,” I grumbled. “So, the curse breaks. What does that mean?”

“It means it’s broken. Part of the curse is that I can’t tell you more. Anyway, why ruin the suspense?” The frog hopped even closer. If I bent down, I could pick it up.

I considered it.

“Oh why not?” I rolled my eyes. “Today’s been bad enough that kissing a frog isn’t going to make it worse.” I pushed aside the blanket, put the bottle of wine on the side table, and bent down.

Up close, it really was a large frog. Green with blotchy brown spots, and rather slimy looking.

“Let’s get this over with,” I declared. I grabbed the frog and lifted it up.

Its slime felt like egg whites, gooey and goopy. It was also strangely warm in my hands. As I pulled it closer to my face, I felt the warmth spread from my hands up my arms, across my chest and to my face. It made my lips tingle and my body feel like it’d been kissed by sunshine.

“Are you going to kiss me or not?” the frog demanded.

“What’s…um… what kind of slime do you have on you?” I asked, feeling even more muddled than the wine had made me. My heart thudded in my chest, and I felt hot and… horny? Yes, this was definitely a feeling of arousal. Uncomfortable, I crossed my legs.

“It’s not poisonous, if that’s what you’re worried about,” the frog said irritably. “Why aren’t you kissing me? You said you would.”

“It’s um… it’s like a… like an aphrodisiac,” I muttered. My cheeks were warm. I shook my head and lifted the frog towards my lips. I didn’t want to kiss a frog, I wanted to kiss a man. Desperately. Shit, once I was done kissing weird frogs with aphrodisiac slime, I was going to find my vibrator and get to it.

I puckered my lips and lifted the frog the rest of the way.

Actually putting my lips on the frog’s body made them tingle more, and my nether regions twinge and grow hotter.

It almost distracted me from the actual kiss, which wasn’t as horrible as I’d been fearing, unless making me incredibly horny was a bad thing.

The frog suddenly grew very hot and very heavy. I dropped the thing before it burned my hands, and grabbed the nearest pillow.

I really, really wanted to just hump something, which was ridiculous, but my desire to see what was going to happen to the frog managed to overcome my desire to start touching myself. Barely.

Not running into my bedroom and throwing myself into a passionate masturbation session turned out to be the right choice.

The frog was growing, growing and glowing, so bright that I had to look away.

When I peeked through my fingers, I was not disappointed.

Where the frog had been there was now a man.

A very naked, very good looking man.

He had his back turned to me, but he was only two feet away, so close that I could reach out and grab that round, supple looking butt. Which I really wanted to do. I stopped myself by clenching the pillow tighter.

His back was well muscled, smooth and strong, and his hair was a rich auburn. He turned his head and I saw his features; symmetrical and masculine, save for his eyes which were green and framed by long lashes. His sensual lips were tilted up into a smile as he turned all the way around, inevitably giving me a very good view of his package.

As my now very horny body was screaming, COCK! COCK! COCK! I managed with great difficulty to wrench my gaze away from that glorious piece of man-meat and meet his eyes.

“See? Telling you would’ve ruined the surprise,” the man said in the frog’s voice. He swept his hands over his body, relishing. “It’s been so long since I was myself.”

I gulped, my gaze now fixated on the hair on his chest. He didn’t have a six pack, but he was close. God, I wanted to run my tongue over that chest.

“So despite how reluctant you were about breaking my curse, I guess I should thank you, huh?” he asked, stepping closer.

My eyes did another hasty zoom back up to his face.

“Er—uh—no need,” I babbled, my face red.

He bent down so that our faces were close.

Shit he was handsome.

His eyes were narrowed. “You’re not as ugly as I thought you’d be, considering your taste in movies.” He shrugged and smiled again. “Well, here it is, your reward for saving the prince.” He took my head in one hand and kissed me.

He broke the kiss very quickly and said, “blergh! What is that? Slime?!” He rubbed his lips with his hand, giving me an accusing look. “You should’ve warned me you still had frog slime on you.”

The way he was standing, his cock was right in my face. It took all of my self-control plus some to not reach out and stroke that thing. It was five inches flaccid and delightfully thick. A rare beauty indeed.

The man paused, and slowly asked, “What was that you were saying before about my frog slime?”

“Made me horny,” I whispered, staring at his manhood. I saw it begin to stir, blood hardening it. I looked up at his face, and he had an odd expression, part exasperation, part amusement, part arousal.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he breathed, his cheeks flushing. He shakily ran a hand through his hair. “I should leave.”

“It’s your frog slime,” I reminded him. This time I didn’t stop myself from reaching out and tracing a finger down his lengthening member. He trembled in response, and grew harder.

“I—I should leave,” he repeated, taking a small step back.

“And leave a damsel in distress?” I asked, touching the tip of his cock between my thumb and forefinger. He’d already started dribbling.

“You’re in distress?” He asked with a laugh.

“You’re the one that made me this horny,” I said, glancing up at him as I leaned forward and pecked a kiss on that magnificent cock. Muddled and aroused as I was, I knew my lips still had some of that amazing slime on them. I pulled away. “If you’re fine with leaving me in such distress….”

He made a noise that was partway between a groan and a growl. “Screw it,” he said, and he pulled me up by my arms, kissing me fiercely. His penis, now rock-hard, pressed into my hip, and I ground myself lewdly against him as we kissed.

We pulled away, and his green eyes were wide, his breathing heavy.

I took the opportunity to run my hands through the fine hair of his chest, over his pecks, down his abs. Normally I’m not so forward. Normally, I’m not so horny either.

He slid his hands up under my sports bra, pushing it over my breasts. “Not too shabby,” he murmured, fondling them.

“You’re not too shabby yourself,” I breathed, enjoying the sensation of his large, warm hands. His erection was still poking me.

His hands continued to explore my body, and I took the chance to pull off my sports bra. I could feel how wet I was between my legs, but he hadn’t gotten there yet.

“Are we going to continue this here, or do you have a bed?” He asked, tucking his fingers under the fabric of my panties over my hips.

“Bed’s more comfortable,” I moaned as he pressed one leg between mine, putting pressure where I desired it the most.

We barely made it to the bed once we starting kissing again. His tongue pushed into my mouth, I met it with mine. His fingers were tugging on my nipples, mine were stroking his erection every chance I had.

I managed to maneuver him onto the bed first, and pulled away from him long enough to position myself better.

Fully erect, his penis had to be over seven inches. I was delighted to see that it had grown in girth too. Let some people worry about the length of penis—I was always more aroused by width. I gave the tip of the shaft another kiss before sliding my tongue from his balls up to the tip. I’d never really been one for blowjobs, but nothing was going to keep that penis out of my mouth tonight.

He groaned sensually as I wrapped the head of his erection in my mouth, and I might’ve moaned too, savoring its thickness, its meaty, manly taste, the saltiness of his precum.

I cupped a hand around the base of his shaft and swirled my tongue around the tip inside my mouth.

I slid my hand up the shaft, keeping the tip of my lips on him, and when I slid my hand back down, I leaned into the cock, letting it fill up my mouth.

He was moaning now, his hand lightly in my hair. “My—my balls, play with them too,” he managed to say.

I kept my mouth on his penis but moved my hands to his balls, cupping them, tugging them gently, squeezing and massaging as I bobbed my head up and down his shaft, managing to get more and more of it in me with each return. I flicked my tongue around him, pressing and licking as I sucked, and his fingers tightened in my hair.

I rubbed my legs against each other, each suck and each lick increasing my yearning. He felt too good in my mouth, I needed him inside me. I couldn’t take it anymore.

“I need you in me,” I said huskily, pulling away, shuddering with the effort.

His hand slipped from my hair, and he groaned assent.

I crawled up so my body was over his, and he tugged my underwear down, exposing my pussy. I was wetter than I could ever remember being. Each breath I took was heavy, my chest rising and falling, and I bent over him, breasts brushing against his chest.

His fingers slid over my labia and clitoris, eliciting a gasp from me.

I felt the top of his penis press against me, and with a sigh, he pushed himself into me.

I leaned back so that I could lower myself onto his hot, throbbing erection, and my hands clenched against his chest, my eyes closed. God his cock felt good. It slid into me and filled me more than comfortably. It filled me completely.

He pressed against my g-spot briefly, before pushing further in, deeper and deeper into me.

I’m not a talker during sex, but something about how aroused I was, how horny he was, how good he felt inside of me and how good he obviously felt inside me made the words start tumbling out of me.

“Oh fuck me,” I moaned. “Fuck me faster, fuck me faster!”

With a grunt he sat up, and still inside of me, he pushed me down on my back, so that he was the one on top. We made and kept eye contact as he increased his thrusts, pushing harder and further inside of me.

I was no virgin, but it was perhaps the most intimate thing I’d ever done; staring into his green eyes as he stared into mine, seeing my arousal reflected in him, seeing how each thrust brought him closer and closer to an orgasm, seeing our desperate, mutual need for fulfillment with each other.

We were past words by then.

I bit my lip, body quivering with desire and heat as he fucked me faster and faster. He needed the release as much as I did, but we wouldn’t give it to ourselves until we couldn’t hold out any more.

His breathing was ragged, his penis hot and hard and heavy inside of me.

He thrust, and thrust, and thrust and I could see it in his eyes, passion and desire, and…

“Oh God, oh God, OH GOD!” The words spilled out of me as my breathing escalated, as he hit the dam and destroyed it, as my body reached its limit and climaxed, as he groaned and orgasmed inside me, his semen hot and satisfying.

“Fuck,” he whispered, relaxing his body and lying on top of me.

Our breaths were identical; wavering and slowly coming down from the passionate high we’d just shared.

He pulled out of me as he rolled over, lying next to me on the bed, our arms and hips touching.

“That’s one way to break a curse,” he muttered.

I laughed, and put my hands up over my face, trying not to be embarrassed. I could still feel his cum between my legs, mingling with my own juices. “We didn’t use a condom,” I said, still smiling. Half joking I threatened, “If you get me pregnant…”

“It’ll probably come out looking like a frog,” he said with a laugh. He rolled onto his side, and touched the side of my face. “Thank you again, for breaking the curse.”

I touched his chest gently, looking into his very green eyes. “Now what? You go back to wherever you came from?”

He looked up, his lips twisting into a smirk. “Well… I don’t have to leave right away.” He moved his hand from my face to my hip, pulling me closer against him. He kissed me and whispered into my ear, “and this time we’ll use a condom.”

In the end, my day wasn’t that bad after all.
 

 
The end