All the Frogs in Manhattan

by Carrie Aarons

  As the fever dissipated, he scooped me up and carried me to what I only hoped was the bedroom.

  “Talk about sweeping a girl off her feet. That was some Cinderella shit.” I leaned my head into his chest, his heart beating double time. All the blood in his body was probably pumping to his dick.

  “Nonsense. Prince Charming would have never finger-fucked the princess up against the wall barely inside his apartment. They’d stick to straight traditional missionary.”

  Oliver set me down at the foot of his bed, and I’d missed being here. His bedroom was such a reflection of him, clean wood lines and neat decorations. Nothing too fancy, but everything purposefully put in here. I sat on the edge of the massive king bed and slid my sweater up over my head, leaving me completely nude.

  “That’s a sight I’ve dreamed about for months now.” Oliver slipped out of his shoes and did away with his pants, his nudity matching my own.

  Sauntering towards me so that I have to crawl backwards on the bed, he plants his hands on either side of my body. And slowly as I move, he moves over me, backing us up until my head is lying on the pillows and we’re skin-to-skin.

  “Let’s slow this down. I’ve waited a while for it, but I don’t want to rush through it. I’ve missed you so much. And I don’t just mean this. Being close to you, looking at you. I’ve missed it all.”

  His words are a little cliché, but I’m a fool for him, and I absolutely melt as his eyes explore my own. Those three little words come creeping up my throat, but I know I can’t say them. We just got naked again, we’re going to make sweet monkey love. I can’t complicate it just yet with those four letters. He might bolt.

  I don’t let myself have a chance. I cup the back of his neck and bring him down, fusing our mouths in a slow and drugging kiss. With each lap of his tongue on mine, I feel myself get wetter. Which shouldn’t even be possible, because I’m already flushed and sticky from my first orgasm.

  Oliver breaks the kiss and pushes a hand between us. I don’t realize what he’s doing until he grips himself and drags the tip up and down, from the top of my swollen clit to my dripping opening. Up and down he goes, driving me insane with need.

  “You’re the only woman I will ever be inside again.” These are the most precious words he could say in this moment. They’re a commitment, a promise. They’re a plan for the future.

  And then he slips into me, slowly stretching me open. It burns a little, I’ve gone a few weeks without sex and he’s bigger than I remember. I place a hand on his chest, silently telling him to give me a minute to adjust.

  And after a second, the tightness turns to pleasure, his tip and shaft rubbing all of the erogenous zones inside me.

  “It feels so good,” I breathe.

  “I need to think about anything but your pussy right now.” His cock pulses as he mumbles this into my neck. “It’s been too long.”

  “So look at me.” I use my hand to bring his chin up. “I want you to look at me the whole time.”

  I never really believed in making love. Sex was sex, even with people I’d been dating it had just been fucking, the physical act of coming together. But tonight, this first time Oliver and I had been together as an official couple, was the closest I’d ever come to physically making the emotion of love.

  Each slow stroke of him inside of me set off another round of chills and moans. Each kiss or nibble on each other’s skin was a brand. I’d never believed sex could be like this, not even with Oliver. It had never been like this with him before. All of our walls and defenses were down. If I’d thought we’d trusted each before, had been open and honest about what we liked and needed, this was a whole new level of understanding.

  “You’re incredible.” Oliver is looking at me like I just birthed the baby Jesus, and I feel myself preening a bit.

  To have a man look at you like that is all I’ve ever wanted. It’s just a plus that that man is also one who gets me in every possible way.

  “I’m going to come again. I’m so close.”

  He knows, remembers, that this is my tell. Reaching between us, Oliver rubs my clit, with firm pressure in small circles, as he pumps faster. I feel it in my legs this time, little electrical pulses that are causing me to overheat.

  “Yes …” I groan as the climax explodes inside of me, slow and low at first and then bright and burning.

  “Gemma …”

  My name is a prayer or a plea as Oliver smashes his mouth to mine, and I know from the guttural growl into my throat that he’s coming.

  I lose myself in his kiss as he loses himself in me.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Oliver

  When we’re young, Halloween is for seeing who can fill their pillowcase with the most amount of candy and eating it until you were so physically sick, you couldn’t get up.

  “We’re too old for this,” I whined as Gemma put a large colorful bowtie around my neck.

  “You’re too old, old man, and it’s a work function, so suck it up.” She pulls up her strapless orange dress and adjusts her red squishy nose.

  I’m a little annoyed that she’s dragging me to Femme’s Annual Costume Ball, but also kind of thrilled that I get to go on the arm of my smoking hot girlfriend. Her curvy frame is encased in the tight dress, and every time she moves, so do both of her juicy, pert ass cheeks.

  So if I have to dress up like a sophisticated clown in my black tux and polka-dot oversized bowtie, I’ll do it. Because I want to make her happy and because couple’s do things like this together.

  “My boss is a total bitch, so avoid her. And don’t get too in-depth with my coworkers, they’ll take anything you say and use it against me. And don’t drink too much or you’ll have to bid on a stupid auction item like Drinks at the Harvard Club or tickets to Aladdin on Broadway.”

  Those weren’t stupid. “I bid on stuff like that at all of the charity events I go to. It’s nice for the fundraiser.”

  She sighs and puts on another coat of lipstick in the mirror of her bathroom. “Yes, you’re Mother Freaking Teresa. But I don’t need my coworkers talking about my rich boyfriend … it will give me a target on my back.”

  Gemma seems antsy and nervous, and it’s really fucking cute. I wrap my arms around her waist and press my nose into her lavender-smelling hair. “You have a target on your back. It sits right below your waist and drives me fucking insane.”

  I see her roll her eyes in the mirror. “You’re a dog. I already need a glass of champagne.”

  Twenty-five minutes later, Gemma is holding my hand as I let her walk through the door to the rooftop first. She’s added a purple fur shawl to her outfit, but with the heaters on the giant terrace overlooking the island, it is warm and intimate in late October.

  And everyone in here is dressed to the circus themed nines. Men with tuxes and full on lion’s manes, women carrying around whips and stools. At one end of the room, a woman in a floor-length black gown is walking a miniature pony around with her. A couple has a tightrope tied between them, and one woman is in a full on trapeze costumes. When Gemma had said people at her work got into the Halloween ball, she wasn’t kidding.

  “Well, at least it’s not each girl in a sexy something costume in some basement bar in Chelsea.” I lace my fingers through my hot date’s as she weaves us through the crowd.

  “Don’t worry, people will get drunk and sloppy just soon enough.” She looks back at me, her hair blowing in the light breeze.

  Fuck, I’m going to be hard this entire night. The way I can basically see the outline of her ass in that dress is not helping my case.

  “Gemma! Oh my God, thank God you’re here. I was beginning to think our entire department left me!” A stick-thin girl wearing giraffe ears and a brown suede dress crushes Gemma to her body.

  I can see Gemma struggle, wanting out of whatever this bear hug is. It makes me chuckle as I look over at the guy crushing hug girl is with. He looks panicked and out of place in his gorilla suit. I don’t think
he got the memo about black tie costumes.

  “Oliver, this is Dani, she works with me in the beauty department.” Gemma squeezes my hand as she introduces me. I’m not sure what that means.

  “Oh my gosh, I didn’t know you were seeing someone new. And how handsome, who knew Gemma could pull that off!” The bitch actually laughs at her own backhanded compliment as she kisses me European style on both cheeks.

  “Who knew she had such pretty coworkers. She never mentions you.” I throw my own little barb wrapped in chocolate-covered kindness right back at her.

  “Hey, you’re Oliver Anders, aren’t you?” The boy toy standing off to the side lights up as he realizes who I am.

  And Dani deflates, not having guessed at it first. “Martin, don’t be rude. This is my boyfriend Martin, by the way.”

  The way she said boyfriend made it sound like a curse word. I pretended to fix Gemma’s hair as I bent down to her ear and whispered, “Trouble in paradise?”

  “Yeah, man … you just launched that whole Graphite Home project. Fuck, you’re like the new Steve Jobs!”

  I smile, because it’s awkward when people say things like that and I don’t know how to respond. I usually just stand there and listen to them gloat over me, because when you do what you love for a living, you don’t actually think of it as profound. I have so much fun with what I do, I rarely think about the fandom or whatever you want to call it.

  “Thank you. Hey, give Gemma your number through Dani and I’ll send you the new system if you’d like.”

  “Are you serious?! That would be awesome.” He looks more excited about my new tech product than he’s probably ever looked to get inside his girlfriend’s pants.

  Dani, meanwhile, is sulking at his side. “Well, Gemma, I didn’t realize that you were dating a celebrity.”

  I don’t think I’ve ever seen my girlfriend preen as much as she did in that moment. “What can I say, my life is super glamorous right now.”

  “Oh shit, Medusa is coming this way. Fuck!” Dani turned and walked the three feet to the closest bartending station, leaving us to face what I assumed to be a woman with snakes for hair.

  “Medusa is my boss, be nice. Please!” Gemma whispered under her breath.

  Turning, a redhead in a fire-engine red dress and a Dalmatian printed choker around her neck was purposefully stalking towards us. I had no idea what Dalmatians had to do with the circus, but I wasn’t going to ask this woman. She looked like she had a stick shoved so far up her ass it might come out of her nose if she sneezed.

  “Lauren, it’s so good to see you. Thank you for inviting us.” Gemma put on her sweetest voice, and I almost elbowed her. She’d never talked that nicely to me in our whole existence of knowing each other.

  “Gemma. Dani.” She nodded at them but kept her eyes on me the whole time. “And who is this?”

  I was probably closer in age to her boss than I was to Gemma, and this woman sensed it. There was something about certain women over thirty who saw a single, or in this case not married, man and their radar peaked. She was clearly checking me out, even lingering on the crotch area of my pants. I shifted, feeling extremely awkward.

  “Oliver Anders, thank you for having us. It’s a nice theme.”

  She shakes my hand, but Lauren might as well be cupping my balls and weighing them in her hands with how invasive her grip is. I wrench away at the first chance.

  “So, Oliver, take a walk with me. We can talk about what you do.” She’s completely ignoring that my girlfriend is standing right next to her. Not to mention, that she’s her employee.

  “Oh, you know Gemma and I would love to go see the fire-breather over there. Why don’t you come with us?”

  Medusa shoots Gemma a look that could murder kittens. “I would love that, as long as you’ll let me borrow your arm. This dress is so tight, I might fall.”

  Gemma rolls her eyes but gives me her blessing, and I kind of wish my girlfriend grabbed me by the dick in that moment and showed her boss who was the real boss.

  After an hour of trying to suction myself to Gemma’s side and escape Lauren McCraig’s clutches, she finally gets the hint. She excuses herself after thinking she saw Beyoncé, she definitely didn’t, but we emphatically agree with her as she waddles away.

  “Oh my God, I thought she was going to start sucking you off in plain sight.” Gemma dissolves into a fit of laughter after she is out of earshot.

  “Thanks for saving me. And here I thought you were jealous.” I hug her tight.

  “I am fiercely jealous … except when I know a woman is scaring you so much that you finally understand the squeezing hand thing.”

  Yeah, I picked up that when Gemma didn’t like what someone did or said, she’d point it out to me by squeezing my hand.

  “Can we please go home?” I was tired.

  “I thought you’d never ask. Let’s get Taco Bell on the way home and then get naked.”

  That sounded better than every three-ring nut job in this place.

  Three hours later, I lay in my bed with a naked Gemma pressed up against my tired, but happy, cock.

  “Why did you never call me after July?” She looks up at me, her makeup-free face so beautiful in the dark.

  We hadn’t talked about the little break we’d taken yet, although I knew I should have expected it would come up at some point.

  “There were so many times I wanted to, I really did. But I knew what you wanted, and I wasn’t ready to give you that yet. Plus, I had some help.”

  Confusion steals over her features. “What do you mean?”

  Embarrassment courses through me, because it seems so childish now to have done it. “I downloaded one of those apps that … that wouldn’t let me contact you. Remember?”

  “Oh my god, I completely forgot about that. You blocked my phone number! Oh my God, you actually tried to drunk text me and had to freaking block me to stop yourself.” She cracks up, kicking her legs into the mattress.

  Her amusement makes me chuckle, and taking her hand in mine, I take a deep breath.

  “It’s because I love you. Even then, I was in love with you.”

  For some reason, I’ve always thought those words would make me weak, would leave me vulnerable for any person to cut me down. Maybe it’s why I’ve never said them to any woman before Gemma. Maybe I knew they wouldn’t be real until I found the right woman, which in all cases was Gemma. After all, my brain was purely scientific, working on logic and cause and effect.

  But I was surprised to find that after all the worrying and immature bullshit I’d pushed upon the female gender over the year, I felt something completely opposite than I’d anticipated. It was as if I was a thousand feet tall, puffing out my chest for everyone to see. The world was tinged rose-colored, and that might sound corny but it was completely true. Being in love with Gemma only enhanced my life and how I saw things; it added an element of importance to everything I did.

  She blinked, her long lashes sweeping slowly. “You … what?”

  “I love you,” I said it confidently. Gemma looked like she was having a hard time breathing, as if I’d stolen it right out of her lungs. “Are you okay?”

  She sat up like she was going to hyperventilate, and I scrambled up, holding her waist and rubbing her back. After a minute, she turned to me with the goofiest grin on her face.

  “I’m … shocked.”

  “I can see that.”

  “For some reason, I thought I was going to have to be the first one to say it. Thought you’d be too much of a pussy to do it, or it would be too much of a commitment. I thought I’d wait a few months, drop some hints, and if you didn’t say it I would and then force it out of you.”

  My jump-to-assumptions woman, she made me double over with laughter. “So you’re about to have a panic attack because I beat you to the punch?” I wrestled her to the bed as I kissed her face. “I love you, I love you, I love you …”

  I stopped, pushing her hair out of her face as
she looked up at me in wonder.

  “I love you, too.”

  I never really believed in a moment stopping time. A perfect beat of a second capturing the most religious of experiences. But right then, well damn, the hands on every clock in my apartment ceased when Gemma Morgan said those three little words.

  “You can’t take that back, you know. It’s like a dozen donuts, or a double orgasm. I’m going to keep wanting it again, and again, and again.” I nuzzled into her neck.

  Gemma pushes me over, and then straddles my lap. “I’ll take an ‘I love you’ with a side of double orgasm then. And an onion ring. I love onion rings.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Gemma

  "This one time, I saw a porno where this guy was fucking a chick while she held a pull up bar. It's been a fantasy of mine." Oliver held my hand on the cushion between us, and I sank down into the comfortable material.

  "Well, a fantasy of mine is being fucked by two men at once. But I'm always afraid it will be too much cock, you know? Sometimes in the porno's, they make it seem like the girl is so overwhelmed. I don't like to be overwhelmed."

  His aqua sea-stone eyes widen with disbelief. "You watch porn? Threesome porn?"

  My boyfriend tilts his head back like he's trying to picture exactly how I touch myself.

  I smack his chest lightly. "Don't be that guy. You know, the one who pretends that women don't watch porn just as much as men. I flick my bean happily. Unless, of course, you’re flicking it, because that feels so much better.”

  Oliver paused for a second, and then lunged at me, tackling me so that he was lying on top of me. “I’ll push the button on your O remote anytime you want to watch, sweetheart.”

  I pushed at his chest, secretly loving the weight of him on me. “You’re so corny. Go make me a sandwich or something. I’m hungry.”

  “I’ve got a Bologna sandwich right here for you, baby.” He humped like a jackrabbit on top of me.

  Giggles, fast and loud, came pouring out of my throat. This is what it had been like for weeks now. It wasn’t hard, there was no struggle to connect or talk or work things out. Once we’d stopped trying so hard to make our lives the exact way we wanted them, they fell right into place.