Love and Sex in Frog Town

 by  Anonymous.

Have you heard about the amazing renaissance of the LA River?  The spirit of the river had been dead for so long.  But community groups and ecologist activists cleaned it up.  Now there are kayaks floating down, cyclists biking along the path next to the river.  And of course, this is LA, so there’s a great real estate boom in Frog Town, the name of the section of the river that runs near Echo Park and Silverlake toward downtown.

That is the setting for our incredible tale.  It was a few years ago when the activists had just started their great work. One of them, a young recent college grad named Brad, was walking up the river in Frog Town, holding a garbage bag and relieving that poor river of some of the piles and piles of rubbish that had choked it to death for the last fifty or so years.

It was at that moment that the spirit of the river came to life.  It looked like a frog, a giant transparent frog, and it saw this kind and wonderful human cleaning the river up.

“You’ve brought me back to life,” said the giant transparent frog, the spirit of the river.  It was kind of like a Miyazaki movie. If you don’t’ know what that is, tough.  Go check it out.  It’s anime.  Which was weird because Brad didn’t like anime.  Even though he was sexy and ecological, he was ethnocentrically biased and preferred white American stuff like that horrible band The Dave Mathews Band.  That was the kind of thing Brad liked.  Dave Mathews sounds so horny all the time, and the truth was, even though Brad spent a lot of time working to clean up the environment, one of the reasons he did it is that there are a lot of hot females doing that kind of thing, and one or two times he had gotten lucky with these granola type of girls. 

“Well, I really care about the environment,” said Brad to the spirit of the river.   It was only a half lie.  He did care about the environment, insofar as it could help him get laid.

“To show my gratitude, I will give you anything you ask,” said the Frog spirit.  “Absolutely anything.”

Well, that was easy. Whenever Brad drove around Los Angeles he thought of one thing and one thing only.  Wouldn’t be amazing if he could fuck every single hot female in Los Angeles?  That is what he wanted more than anything. As of this point, he had fucked three women in Los Angeles.  But you know, Los Angeles is the place you almost have to come to if you are an especially beautiful female, even if you’re from another country.  You have to come here to “show” your beauty in show business.  And therefore, the city has attracted at least, Brad calculated, a hundred thousand babes who were almost perfect tens.  Women who he would so like to fuck that he would gladly die after fucking one of them.  But now, the spirit of the river was offering him a great opportunity.

“What if I could fuck every hot female in Los Angeles?” Brad said quickly.  “After all,” Brad said.  “I did just bring you back to life with my magic garbage bag here.”

The spirit of the river was convinced. 

“Alright,” he said.  “I will grant you this wish.  But I have been asleep for some time.  You will have to tell me, how many of these hot females are there in Los Angeles?

“There are a bunch,” said Brad.  “But that’s OK.  I don’t care how long it takes.  I am willing to spend the next decade fucking every babe in sight and then you can kill me I don’t care, my life will have been worth living.”

“But how,” said the Frog.  “I mean, how would you meet them, where is the opportunity where I might intervene with my magic?”

“At the red lights,” said Brad.  He had thought this through many times as he drove.   “At the red lights, that’s where we see the women.  They are sometimes doing their makeup.  Or on their phone, putting up their hair, you know, too busy to notice. Some of them are on their way to auditions, music classes, dance, theatre, modeling, internet design, art.  I mean, these are the most fabulous females you can imagine, Frog.”

“I’m not a frog,” the Frog explained.  “I’m the spirit of the river.”

“Yeah, but you look like a frog,” said Brad.

“OK.  So that’s something we could work with,” continued the Frog. “When you see the women at the red light, I will work my magic and they will go into a trance.  They will come out of their cars and get into your car and you can kind of pull over down the street a bit and have sex with them.”

“No, we can’t have them just leave the car there in the intersection…”

“OK. They’ll signal for you to pull over.”

“Perfect,” said Brad.  “And I’ll pull over in front of them, and they’ll walk in a trance into my car.  And we’ll have sex right there, in my car, I’ll recline the seat.  And then in a trance they will go back to their car and they won’t really even know it happened.  I’ll have tinted windows so nobody will see in.”

“Got it,” said the Frog.  He didn’t know what tinted windows were, but it didn’t matter.  He agreed to grant the wish.  Brad shook his froggy hand and went away very happy.

Our story would have ended there, but in about ten minutes, another environmentalist type, Sarah, came walking up the same path and saw the Frog.  She was holding a kind of pitchfork thing and was also picking up garbage and cleaning up the river.

“Ah, another kind human,” said the Frog.  “You cleaned up the river and brought me back to life.  I will reward you with any wish you like.”

The difference between Sarah and Brad is that Sarah was a good environmentalist and Brad was a bad one.  Sarah did it because she loved the river, whereas Brad did it to meet girls.

“Oh, spirit of the river,” said Sarah, quite awed  “You are mistaken.  There are hundreds.  Thousands of us who have been helping clean the sewage from your river.  I do not deserve any special reward.  I’m just one small part of this beautiful movement.  The Renaissance of the LA river.”

“Is that what they call me,” asked the Frog.  “The LA river?

“Yes,” said Sarah. “What do you call yourself?”

“This Indians here called me Paayme Paxaayt,” said the river, giving her the Tongva name.

“Oh, is that the Tongva name for frog?” said Sarah.

“No, for river,” said the spirit.  “Why does everyone think I’m a frog.  Anyhow, listen if there are thousand of you, I’m not granting any more wishes.  But since you were honest with me, you will receive my last magic gratitude.  You seem like a nice girl.  What do you want?  I’ll give you whatever your heart desires.”

“Oh that’s easy,” said Sarah.  “I want the next man I have sex with to fall in love with me to be faithful to me and me alone forever.”

You see, Sarah, although perhaps in that category of perfect ten that Brad had identified, had not been so lucky with men.  I mean, these men were young still.  Sarah was young, too–23.  Why should she expect some hot guy in his early 20s to be monogamous with her just because they had sex after a night out?  Well, that’s what she wanted.  She couldn’t stand the pain of being betrayed any more.

The frog thought about it.  He thought about Brad, who hadn’t been so honest with him.  And he told her he had a solution.

***

So Brad was on his way home from the river clean up.  He felt like he must have hallucinated that whole Frog thing.  But lo and behold, as he got to the first intersection, and a car pulled up next to him, a beautiful woman looked over at him, and guess what, it was Sarah.  She signaled with her hand for him to pull over up the road a bit.  It was Riverside Drive in Frog Town and it was actually kind of an abandoned just then.  There were no cars parked on it.   Brad couldn’t believe it.  He pulled up behind her.  Sarah got out of her car, came into his car.

She looked at him, was about to say something, but then just started kissing him passionately.  She was in her safari shorts and her gardening hat, to keep the sun off her while she was cleaning up the river.  But Brad saw how cute she was.  He took off her hat and she let her long blonde hair down.

“I was cleaning up the river,” she said, and didn’t know why she told him that.  Or why she was even in the car.  What a strange day it was for her.  First she meets the spirit of the river.  And the next thing she knows she’s making out with this stranger and looking at him with such an openness.  She had never felt so “available” to a man, but something about him assured her that it was all perfectly normal.  It was almost as if he had been expecting it.

He had, of course.  I mean, he had been hoping beyond hope for just this.  He kissed her again, and told her how to reach down and recline the seat.  She did so. 

“It’s OK,” Brad assured her.  “The windows are tinted.”

“I don’t care if the whole world sees,” said Sarah.  “It’s a miracle.  This whole day has been a miracle.”

“It really has,” said Brad.   It was nice to share the miraculous with someone.  Of course he couldn’t share everything with her.  He couldn’t tell her about the spirit of the river–she would never believe him.  She would think he was crazy and he wouldn’t get laid.

Sarah, too, thought better of mentioning the miracle of the spirit of the river.  They started to get down to business with some heavy petting.

“Now this is really something,” said Brad to himself.  “That river god was not kidding around.”

“Wow,” thought Sarah.  “I guess he’s going to be the one.  The one who can never have sex with another person for as long as he lives.  That was what the river God promised me.”

“Are you sure you want to do this,” said Sarah.  She felt like she should give him some sort of warning.

“One hundred percent, yes,” said Brad.  It was too late for warnings. 

They had sex.

Yummy, yummy, yummy, was all Sarah could think as they went at it.  This is the way she wanted it.  Fast and furious and in the front seat. She felt like she was back in time, maybe the 1950s and they were too American kids getting it on in the 57 Chevy.  And, coincidentally, “Summer Lovin” came on the car radio.

“That was nice,” she said, pulling up her shorts and putting her shirt back on and putting her gardening hat back on.  Then she opened the car door and said, “See ya.”

“Huh?” said Brad.  He’d never had that experience.  In his experience you had to do some playacting afterwards, about how felt something special for the woman.  Wow, this spell was really cool.  He wasn’t going to have to play act.  He was going to be able to be himself.

“See ya,” he said.  And watched her go.

As he started up his car, he thought to himself, that  was nice.  It was like an 8 out of 10.  Sarah was a bit passive.  Brad would have liked a bit more action with the hips.  But he was happy that the Frog and the wish-granting had been real.  Brad felt like just about the luckiest guy in the world ever. 

Brad headed home.  He wasn’t horny any more, of course, because he had just finished having sex, but sure enough at the next intersection another car pulled up.  In it was another perfect ten.  This hot Los Angeles lady was on her way to a party where she was going to perform sexy flame swallowing, and she was in her flame swallowing outfit.  She was literally hot!

She signaled for Brad to pull over.  He did so.  He didn’t see the car behind the sword swallower.  There was Sarah, who had been following Brad ever since they had sex at the last intersection to see if the Frog’s promise to her had been real.  Sure enough it had.  Because try as he might, Brad could not get an erection for the sexy sword swallower.  She even tried swallowing Brad’s “sword” for a while, but…nothing.  Sarah watched as the disappointed sword swallower got out of Brad’s car, slammed the door and stormed back to her car.  Sarah smiled.  The spirit of the river had been true to his word.

All the way home women tried to signal to Brad to pull over but he didn’t.  He had never had trouble getting it up before.  On the contrary, he often got involuntary erections at awkward times.  But now, he figured it was just his refractory period and he would have to wait 24 hours or so for it to pass and then he could go about his project of spending the next decade or so fucking every babe in sight.

The next week was a true nightmare for Brad.  In spite of the frog’s magic still applying to Brad, and in spite of the fact that women were calling to him at practically every intersection, the wish that the Frog had granted Sarah conflicted in a very painful way for Brad.

He made a lot of women very disappointed and angry by not getting it up.  He went to the doctor and got an extra strong Viagra, but it didn’t work.  He had himself examined.  They couldn’t help him. 

Brad could no longer drive his car.  He sold it and began biking around Los Angeles.  That way he was safe from all the hot females.  One day he was biking along the LA river and he ran into that spirit again.

“Oh, there you are, Frog,” he said.  “What the heck did you do to me?

“I did nothing to you,” said the Frog.  “But you fell in love with that first woman you fucked.  And now you are no use to any other.”

“That first woman I fucked,” he said. “But she wasn’t even that good.  An 8 out of 10.”

“Still, you fell in love with her.”

“Love?”

Brad hadn’t even thought about that word.  All he had thought about was sex.  Truthfully, he didn’t really know what love was.  I mean, he had seen it in the movies, but to be honest with you, he thought it was one of those myths like Santa Claus, a nice idea but really not real.

Not real at all.

And yet this was a very real problem he was having.

“I don’t even know her name,” said Brad. 

“Sarah,” said the Frog.

“I don’t know how to contact her.”

“I’ll shoot you her info.”

In a flash, there on Brad’s phone appeared her contact info.

Brad called her.  He wasn’t sure what was going to happen. 

He drove over to her house.  She was waiting there in a black negligee. 

“Come on in,” she said.  “You must have been suffering quite a bit.”

“Don’t you want to go out on a date or something?” he asked.

“No, I want to fuck,” he said.  “Don’t you need to get fucked?”

“You have no idea.”

“I have a pretty good idea,” she said.  “You look very…frustrated.”

“That’s exactly the word,” he said.

She took him straight back to the bed.

“I’ve been frustrated too,” she said, pulling off his shirt and kissing his chest and his arms. “I’ve been waiting for my life partner to return to me.”

“Life partner!”

That kinda freaked him out.

“Since when did we become life partners?” he said.

“Since we had sex in your car,” she said.

Then she confessed.

“I met a River Spirit who looked like a frog and I made a wish that the next guy I had sex with would be mine forever.”

“Son of a bitch,” said Brad. 

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I didn’t mean you,” he said.  “I meant that dirty double crossing River Frog.”

“Oh you know him, too?”

“No!” he lied.

Brad didn’t want to have to reveal the wish he had made – to fuck every hot babe in Los Angeles.  He didn’t think that would go over with Sarah.  Sarah seemed so earnest and good.  And Brad, in his heart knew he was devious and bad.  So he kept it from her.

“Well, life partner,” he said to her.  “Shall we get down to business?”

“Oh, God,” he said.  “You’re so beautiful.  You’re a ten out of ten.  But listen, this time when we fuck, I want you to really move those sexy hips, is that alright?”

“Sure,” she said.  “But you should be aware, my beauty will fade one day.”

“Let’s live for the moment,” he said.

“Remember, though,” she said.  “We’re life partners.  We’ve got to connect on a level beyond my physical beauty, which I’m glad that you think is a ten.  I would give you a 9.  You should wear your hair shorter.  It looks messy.”

“I’ll do that,” he said. 

But he was worried about that other thing she said, connecting on a level deeper than physical beauty.  He was sucking on her breasts as she had said it, so it was very hard for him to process that thought in his brain.  What deeper level is there beyond tit sucking? 

“I love you, Brad,” she said when they were really getting into it.  “I love you so much.  We’re going to have a beautiful life together.”

There she was going again with the life partner, the life together.  Damn, if his friends had heard this they would have told him to get out of that bed and run for his life.

But he didn’t run.  In Brad’s secret heart, he longed for that kind of depth, that Sarah was displaying.  He knew he was shallow.  He knew he was phony. 

“You’re so real,” he cried, as they came together.

“This is real,” she cried.  “I can’t believe it, but it is!”

They got married at 24.  All Brad’s male friends fucked themselves silly all through their twenties.  But not Brad.  He fucked Sarah and Sarah alone.  Every once in a while he tried driving again, tried going out there and cheating on her, but it always ended in an angry car door slamming and a super uber Los Angeles babe storming back to his car.

He came to terms with his fate.  He did love her, he guessed.  I guess that’s what love is, he concluded. Love is kind of being stuck with someone.

But every once in a while, just out of spite, Brad goes down to Frog Town on his bike.  Stops by a grove of trees.  And takes a piss in the LA River.

“Is that really necessary?” he hears the voice of the frog asking him.

“Yes,” says Brad. 

“You weren’t honest with me,” says the Frog.  “You gained my magic through lies.”

“I never lied.”

“Well, there are lies of omission.”

“True,” says Brad, finishing up his pissing.  Then he sighs.  “There are too many hot women in this town.  And you stuck me with just one.  I asked you for all of them.”

“I gave you all of them.”

And then Brad remembers.  He’s not stuck with Sarah.  He is enchanted by her.  There is a subtle difference.  He likes being enchanted.  He doesn’t like being stuck.

He goes home and he makes love with his wife.  On Alexa he has the song playing, “I’m Every Woman,” and he’s content.

That’s the most any of us can hope for.

That’s what Brad tells any of his friends when they ask him how come he’s so faithful and so loyal to just one woman all these years.

“She put a spell on me,” he says.  They think he’s joking, or being poetical.  He’s not.  Brad doesn’t have a poetic bone in his body.   But that sneaky, sexy river that snakes through Frog Town on its way to downtown Los Angeles, it truly is poetry to behold.

Check it out if you’re ever in LA.