Marty and Rachel wanted to rest after their sex night. They went to the Hotel’s pool which was unfortunately filled with families that had brought their noisy children, running and splashing. They dragged an armchair to the most hidden spot, somewhere next to the low palm trees and luxurious plants and the fence, in the other side of it there was the jungle. It was the perfect place; they could even cuddle and make out that no one would see them. The sole downvote was their compromised sunbath, reduced to a simple caress by the sunshine that escaped the leafy shield.
Marty was writing crime novel trying to forget everything that he had been trough. Rachel was listening to music, she went for another pinacolada sip when she realized the glass was empty.
“I’m getting another one of these. Want some?”
Marty denied and she left their spot. Marty tossed the book aside after a few lines and massaged his eyes. He heard the plants rustling and very soon he felt his swimming suit being pulled.
“Oh…you wanted another kind of Pinacolada” he joked. He felt Rachel’s lips on his manhood. Marty stretched himself and moaned with the sucking, felt the swirling tongue, the pouty lips on his balls and the cold moisty hand on his belly.
“What the…” he opened his eyes. It wasn’t Rachel who was giving him a blowjob. He met a pair of red tree-frog-eyes looking at him. Her skin was green but her belly was blue. Her webbed hands and feet had a yellowish hue and she sported a black Chinese bob haircut.
“Hey…stop that. I mean…don’t…don’t stop” he said taking his hand to her nape.
He moaned with pleasure. Until his tongue flickered just like the one of a frog…was he turning back into a were frog?