Frog and Quinn: Chapter Eight (Patreon)

Someone must have spiked my drink with CBD. How else do I explain the calmness rushing through me? Honestly, I’m about as relaxed as I would be grabbing a Mai Thai with my brother and his husband on the beach. Calm is not a word I thought I’d use in this situation. Not that I’ve imagined this situation.

Ever.

I’m about to lend my laptop to Frog so she can watch porn. This has bad idea written all over it. The Oscar Oliveira handbook would file this under “things not to do” but I’m not looking for advice from a Yale grad on this one. He wants Jo and me to be rule followers. To not tiptoe outside the lines, even though he has no problem bending rules when it comes to his client.

Sometimes, Oscar acts more like a dad than an older brother. Where I feel like a brother would be there to pick up broken pieces, Oscar just constantly warns and warns to try to prevent us from breaking in the first place. I get it, but most of the time I just want him to be okay with me taking risks. If I fuck up, it’s not the end of the world.

The ten-year age gap between us is so noticeable to me. Especially now when I’m thinking about him. I’m sure he doesn’t consider my opinion when it comes to his life choices—but of-fucking-course I find myself circling back to what Oscar would think when I’m about do something slightly idiotic.

Is it because he’s smarter than me?

Smarter on paper. I know I don’t have a head full of rocks. I’m not a dumbass, but I can’t compete with the Ivy League diploma my brother has hanging up in his loft.

I blow out an annoyed breath as I grab my laptop off my bed. Seriously, stop thinking about Oscar. When I focus my thoughts back on Frog, it’s like I’ve been in a three-hour meditation session. Instant calmness again. What the fuck is up with this? My pulse should be climbing Mount Everest. I should be one second from cardiac arrest at the mere thought of letting Frog use my computer for porn.

And yet—I’m not sweating. The only thing that slightly freaks me out is the idea of malware thanks to Frog’s fear about it.

If I really stop to think, I might actually be…excited.

She’s considering pumping the brakes on dating a bunch of random guys. Yeah, of course I’m excited. One-night stands are simple. Easy, even. I want that for her. So if I can help her gain some confidence to try for a simple one-time hookup then she doesn’t risk having shitty dates. And I don’t have to watch her with some fuckwad named Fred.

Saves my knuckles.

I would have slammed my fist in his face tonight if he didn’t scamper off like a fucking rat. “Whore,” I heard him say about Kannika. Still boils my blood, even as I return to the living room with my laptop tucked under my armpit.

An empty living room.

Shit.

Did she leave?

The question is answered for me when her bedroom door pops open, and she emerges in a matching baby blue sweatpants and tank top set. The fabric of her top molds her body, and I don’t think she’s wearing a bra. That immediate, unhelpful thought almost makes me drop the laptop on the kitchen counter and wish her a pleasant and brief goodnight. But I just keep my eyes on hers, clench my jaw, and avoid lowering my gaze to her tits. Seriously, what’s wrong with me? She’s Kannika.

She’s also grinning. “Sorry, I had to change for the occasion.”

My brows rise. “The occasion? This isn’t an event. There’s no dress code.”

“Okay, but it’s my first time watching porn. I wanted to be comfortable.” She notices the laptop in my hands. “Should we do it on the couch?”

MyGod. “Don’t say it like that. And there’s no we.” I follow her to the living room and set my laptop on her legs, flipping it open for her. She gives me shit when I tell her my password is my birthday.

“How have you not been hacked yet?” she gapes as she clicks into a web browser.

I roll my eyes. “First of all, I don’t have anything incriminating to hide. Second, I’m going to change the password tomorrow, so don’t get any ideas.”

“And I was just about to start my criminal enterprise.” Her smile falls when her gaze reaches mine. “That was a joke.”

“I don’t really find you and criminal activity a humorous pairing.” I know about her past—but we’ve never dug into it. She left Buffalo for a reason, and I’m not the kind of person who’s going to make light of it.

Frog mutters, “You’re probably right.”  Before I can say anything else, she asks, “What porn site should I go to? And should I change the web browser to incognito mode or would you like this forever in your search history?”

She’s going to kill me. 

The couch undulates as I sink down beside her. “Give it.” I hold out my hands, and she passes the computer to me. I do switch my browser to a private mode before clicking into one of my favorite sites. Immediately there’s about ten different thumbnail videos of naked girls getting absolutely railed, and I quickly click into the categories section which has graphic photos but at least they’re stills.

Frog stares contemplatively at the screen as I put the computer back on her lap. I stand up, and she lets out a frantic breath. “Wait—which category do I choose?”

“That is a personal preference, Kannika.”

Her cheeks flush. “Okay but for the purpose of research and getting comfortable with one-night stands—which category is the best?”

Research? Why does this feel like some fucked up college course we both enrolled in. Irony is neither of us went to college. Frog barely scrapped by with her high school degree, but I’d never call her stupid. She’s one of the smartest girls I know. She doesn’t need a piece of paper to prove that.

Her question has me really overthinking this, and I end up back on the couch. “Pornstar is out,” I tell her. “That’s just way too over-the-top and unrealistic.”

“What about this one?” The cursor hovers over Handjob, and I pinch the bridge of my nose.

“Yeah, no. I don’t think you need pointers on that—and if he asks you for one, just leave the room.”

She frowns. “Isn’t sex a two-way street though?”

“A good one-night stand is a passion-fueled fever dream. You don’t need to be overconcerned about getting him off. He’ll be just fine on his own.” I lean over, our elbows knocking for a second, and I use the mouse pad to click into the Amateur category. “Here.”

Average looking couples populate the thumbnails now. Satisfied with this selection, I rise to my feet again to leave, and her shoulders slacken in disappointment.

“You’re really not going to stay?”

I sigh. “Kannika.”

“What?”

“I can’t watch porn with you. We’re coworkers.”

“It’s research. This is like clearly a school project.” She’s serious, and her earnestness endears me to her in too many fucking ways. I want to sit back down. Out of better judgment, I don’t.

“We’re not in school.” I pop her little fantasy. “We’re bodyguards, and I have full faith you can figure out the details without me.”

“Maybe I think it’d be more fun with you,” she counters. “Who am I going to ask questions if I have any?”

I run a hand through my hair. Contemplating. Fucking idiot. I am actually considering this. I let out a heavy breath. “I’m a guy, Frog.”

Her nose scrunches, and I wonder if it’s because I called her Frog and not Kannika. It felt weird. I’ve been referring to her by her real name more often, and now Frog feels so…formal?

“You’re a guy. The sky is blue. Nothing else is new.”

Her poem, whether intended or unintended, lifts my lips. “Yeah, well this guy can’t stop himself from getting hard if I’m watching porn next to you.”

She doesn’t even blink. “That’s it? That’s what you’re concerned about?” She lets out a breathy laugh. “I’ll probably get wet. It’s just biology, right? We can still complete the research. I’ll ask reasonable questions. You’ll answer. I’ll gain confidence to have a one-night stand. Lose my virginity. Task completed.” In my head, her argument has zero holes.

I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing other than taking a seat next to her. “I’m going to regret this,” I grumble.

“You won’t,” she counters.

Her confidence in that has me really questioning everything. She’s so brazen in her normal day-to-day. It’s so hard to picture her fumbling around during a hookup. So what does that mean? Her normal confidence is all a façade? Is she more anxious underneath her armored exterior than I even realize?

I’m spiraling under those thoughts when she clicks into a video of a tall white dude slamming his ten inches into his “girlfriend’s” cunt. They’re at least in the missionary position and not some elaborate acrobatic stunt. The grunting and moaning cannot be unheard in our quiet apartment. It’s loud enough that I reach over to tap the volume down a couple times.

Frog frowns. “Wait—where’s the foreplay?”

“It’s a five-minute video. There’s no foreplay.”

She quickly clicks out of it and starts up another titled “Giving My GF An Epic Orgasm” and it starts in almost the same way as the last video. Mid-fuck.

Frog waves an annoyed hand at the screen. “I need pointers on what to do before he gets on top of me.”

I run a hand through my hair. “Most of the intros are scripted and corny as shit. Honestly, you’d be better off with romance movies.”

Frog groans. “What about a blowjob? Am I expected to give one before we hookup?”

We.

I know she means the universal we. But I still can’t help but picture her and me. It does worse things for my biology than the two people fucking on the screen. I shift on the couch, trying to keep my dick at bay.

“There are no expectations,” I say. “That’s what I’m trying to convey here. Poorly, probably. But guys don’t really expect anything other than…”

“Than what?”

I sigh. “Getting their dick wet. To put it crudely.”

She narrows her eyes at the screen again. “So you’re saying I can’t fuck this up?”

“I mean…I’m sure there are ways to fuck up a one-night stand. Don’t insult him. Don’t be a jerk. Don’t puke while you’re kissing. Don’t pass out—”

“New fear unlocked.”

I give her a look. “You’ll be fine.”

She’s not glancing at me. Her eyes have tunneled into the porn on the screen. Oddly being here beside her isn’t as uncomfortable or strange as I’d thought it be. Frog makes it feel natural. Like I should be the one mentoring her on sex when I already agreed to help her date. 

“You’re my little slut,” the boyfriend says in a husky voice on screen.

Frog gasps and points at the video. “Did he just call her a slut?”

I break into a smile. What the hell. “It’s supposed to be a turn-on.” Sure enough, the girlfriend moans approvingly.

Frog shakes her head. “I don’t like it.”

“So if it happens to you, just tell the guy that. They’re not mind readers, and the decent guys want to know what makes you come. They’re going to avoid your turn-offs and lean into your turn-ons.”

“And this is where my lack of experience comes into play, Quinn.” She glares at the screen like it’s personally affronted her. “I don’t know my turn-ons. I barely know my turn-offs.”

“What makes you come?” I shock even myself with my sudden question. It causes instant blood to rush down south, and just thank fucking God I have porn on in the background to blame my current erection.

Frog’s only looking at my eyes, but I notice her squirming a bit on the couch. Her knees knock together tightly.

She’s wet. My brain sends that observation down to my dick. Because why not? Already sexually frustrated. Why not be even more so sitting next to my coworker/roommate?

“I’m only like forty-five percent sure I’ve had an orgasm before.”

I steel my expression and try not to look too surprised. “Really?”

“Really,” she says into a strong nod. “For guys it’s easy to know when you’ve had one. You projectile your cum into a victory arc.”

I choke on a laugh. “What the fuck, Kannika?”

She doesn’t back down. “Okay, maybe not a full McDonalds arch.”

I hold my side as cramp forms from laughing. My back hits the cushions. I can’t stop. She starts tapping on my computer. “I’m going to prove it. Where are all the cum shot videos?”

“Nonono.” I grab her wrist to stop her. “I believe some victory arcs have occurred. I just…have never heard it like that.”

She smiles off my smile. “So you see my dilemma. I don’t know if it’s happened.”

“Then maybe it hasn’t,” I offer and regain my breath. “From my experience and the girls I’ve been with, they know. I know, too. I can feel it when I’m inside them.”

She touches her left earlobe subconsciously. She does that sometimes when she’s thinking hard about something. If she’s wearing an earring, she’ll even twist it. It’s my cue to wait for her to scramble her thoughts together because it’s a rare time she’s thinking before she speaks.

Even though I like watching her think, I’d take her impulsive thoughts any day.

“It feels wrong for my first orgasm to be a random hookup,” she finally says. “I’d want to at least feel it for myself first.”

It’s also possible she doesn’t come during her one-night stand, but I don’t want to put that negativity into the world. It makes me mad to think it could happen. That she’d do all this and the guy wouldn’t be able to get her off in the end.

“That sounds like you have homework,” I say, feeding into her classroom fantasy this time.

She smiles again. “Make myself come. I don’t suppose there are any helpful masturbating videos on here…” Just as she’s about to scroll, both of our phones ping on the coffee table.

I pass Frog’s cell to her and then click into the group text from our client.

Luna: Spontaneous summer trip! 🌞🐚🌴 We’re leaving tomorrow morning. Donnelly is sending you all the info by email.

Frog closes the laptop and sets it aside, real life slamming back at us in an instant. “A summer trip? Do you think Luna is doing okay? She hasn’t mentioned this before.”

“That’s why it’s called spontaneous.”

Frog shoots me a pointed glare. “I’m just saying that it’s kind of strange she’d want to pick up and go on vacation when we just moved here. I thought she’d want to acclimate to the city and campus before school starts.”

“Or maybe she wants to get away one last time before the chaos of college,” I say into a shrug. “You could also just ask her.”

Frog’s shoulders slump. “I don’t know. We’re not close-close like that anymore.” She perks up. “Maybe you could ask her and then tell me?”

“No.” I’m on my feet. “Because Luna and I were never close-close.” Frog and Luna at least have a foundation of real friendship. Sure, Luna doesn’t remember it, but it’s not something that can’t be built back up.

Frog tugs on her earlobe in thought, and I pick up my laptop. “Do you want this for your homework?” I ask her.

She blinks for a long second, then shakes her head. “I think I’ll just use my imagination.”

My muscles tighten, and her eyes trail down to the outline of my cock as it presses against the fabric of my pants. What would she be imagining? My dick basically asks me.

I’m losing it.

I tuck my laptop back under my armpit. “I’ll see you in the morning, Kannika.”

“Don’t forget to pack your razor!” she calls out when I’m halfway down the hall. Yeah, last trip, I did forget my razor. I like it too much that she remembers. I like it even more that she cared enough to remind me. When I shut my bedroom door, take a shower, pack a duffel, and crawl into bed, I try hard not to think about what she’s doing in her bedroom. How she’s touching herself. Who she’s thinking about.

But my brain is in a constant loop. I’ve barely even questioned where we’re going for the summer vacation. Haven’t given it more than a second thought. It’s not what I care about, really.

I keep coming back to one question. One that makes me revisit all of the events of the night. How did this whole thing turn from me helping Frog pick out her online dates to me helping her gain confidence for a one-night stand? It was such a natural progression that I barely realized it was happening. It’s as if we were always meant to end up here.

Thank you so much for reading the newest Frog & Quinn chapter! Being back in their story has been loads of fun, and we're so excited for what's to come. What we have mapped out for them is such a blast, and we love that this story takes place during the summer with all the summer vibes coming up in real time 🩷

The next chapter will be dropping this week, and it's in Frog's POV. Keep on the lookout!

xoxo Krista & Becca

IMPORTANT: Please do not screenshot and post any part of this chapter to other sites or share with non-patrons. All of the Patreon content is exclusive to Patreon and for current patron's eyes only.  Thank you!!

RESOURCES:  Check out Frog & Quinn's Collection for more of their chapters as their story continues.

MUSIC: We listened to "Past Lives - slowed + reverb" by sapientdreams while writing this chapter.

“Frog and Quinn," Copyright © 2025 by K.B. Ritchie