Laurie Graff - You Have To Kiss a Lot of Frogs

“I guess we are,” Jack said. “I love your body. Let’s put our differences aside tonight. You’re right. We’re stuck with each other.”

“Not us. The elevator. We haven’t moved in a while.”

“What do you mean?”

I removed my tongue from Jack’s ear and whispered, “I think we did something when we fell. We’re not moving. The elevator is stuck.”

He looked up at me, his brown eyes dancing.

“You’re kidding.” He laughed. “This is great. Let’s not call for help. Let’s do it here.”

He went to unzip my jeans.

“Wait,” I said, stopping him. “Gomez will be back to get more garbage any minute. He’ll find us. I’d be mortified.”

“Well.” Jack tried to salvage the idea. “Maybe just a quickie. Under your coat.”

I didn’t want that. “I like when we have time for a whole, you know…”

“We can have another session in the apartment. But how many times can you say you had sex in an elevator?” he asked.

“Six hundred fifty-three. At least.”

“This will be exciting. Come on. Let’s do it fast. Before Gomez gets back.”

We unzipped each other’s pants. He slid his right hand beneath my pink lace panties.

“Wait. We can’t.” I stopped him again. “We don’t have anything.”

Jack’s face lit up. He reached into his coat pocket. “I’ve got,” he said, pulling out a brand-new package of three lubricated latex condoms.

My body came to an involuntary halt as I stared at the man and woman embracing on the misty blue box. The Natural Way To Love That Special Someone, it read.

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