It had been a long time, and the frog was all I saw. I wasn't particularly keen on amphibious sex, but I thought of frogs, I thought of the slippery slidy slick salamander slime, and my mind was turned to thoughts of miniscule tadpoles.
Like I said, it had been a very long time.
I held a golden ball. I knew the drill. I tossed it in the air, caught it once, twice, and oops! With a sudden darting splash it penetrated the silvery waters of the pool.
A single lubricious tear rolled down my cheek.
"Oh dear. Whatever shall I do? I need my ball!"
The frog jumped up to bat, of course. He licked his eyeball, a most admirable trait, and dipped beneath the surface, emerging with his mouth engorged with golden ball.
I leaned forward and lifted the frog to my lips. "You are my Froggie Doodle Mashy Pie." I slipped him the tongue.
Wouldn't you know it?
The damned thing turned into a princess, and I just don't swing that way.
Is this great, or does it suck big-time? Write me! By the way, this story is copyright 1994-1998. Read it, show it to your friends and your enemies, but do not claim it as your own, or I shall be forced to let my pet chinchillas loose in your computer room. Trust me. You don't want that.