"The Dry Spell"
Monica excitedly uncorked a bottle of wine. Her nerves were jangling, and the pop of the cork as it opened startled her. "Dammit," she muttered as a drop spilled onto the freshly ironed tablecloth.
Everything had to be perfect. Chandler was coming home from Tulsa tonight, and Monica was itching to have a romantic, passionate night, something that hadn't happened in a while. If Chandler wasn't in Tulsa, she was busy at work. If she was in the mood, he wasn't.
Monica looked down at herself and smiled. The cream-colored bra and panties with the lacy cover-up showed an unorthodox amount of skin, but it was perfect. She didn't have any worries about tonight. If this didn't turn Chandler on, nothing would!
As if on cue, the door opened. Chandler sluggishly walked in, dragging his roll-away suitcase behind him.
"Hey, sweetie," Monica said, sashaying up to him and wrapping her arms around him. She kissed him hard, but his only response was a half- hearted smooch.
"Hey," Chandler replied unenthusiastically.
"How was the flight?" Monica asked, pressing herself up against her husband, but he didn't budge, just slouched over.
"Eh," Chandler answered.
Okay, Monica thought. On to plan B. "Do you want some wine?"
"Not really," Chandler said, walking over to the couch and letting himself fall onto it.
"What?" Monica asked, surprised. Chandler knew what wine meant. "Is something wrong?"
"Not really, it's just that I'm exhausted," Chandler said, his eyelids drooping. "I was up all night working on a presentation for this morning, and you know I hate flying." He yawned for effect.
"Oh, but hon," Monica said, walking over to him. "I opened a bottle of wine... lit some candles..." she knelt in front of him. "I've been waiting for you all week," she said in a husky voice.
"I'm sorry, Mon," Chandler said, giving her a half-smile. "I really do want to..."
"Then come on," Monica said.
"I'm too tired, babes, maybe tomorrow night," Chandler said.
"I have to work late tomorrow!" Monica complained. She climbed up into Chandler's lap. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Monica was going to get some tonight, whether Chandler wanted to or not. "I want to nooo-oow," she mumbled, kissing his neck. She trailed kisses down his chest as she unbuttoned his shirt and tried to slip it off him, simultaneously fumbling for his belt buckle. But Chandler resisted.
"Mon, please," he moaned. "I'm exhausted. I'll fall asleep during it."
"I won't let you," Monica promised. She took his hand and eased it under her teddy. Chandler took her head and kissed her again, and then broke apart.
"I really am sorry, sweetheart," he said, groggily standing up. "But I do need to be here for most of it, and I'm about to fall asleep on my feet. Just come to bed. I promise I'll make it up to you." He kissed her cheek, mumbled a slurred good-night, and went into the bedroom.
"Sure you will," Monica mumbled, pouring the wine down the drain.
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Rachel entered the room in her short and, quite revealing blue nylon nightie. It was clear by the way she walked across the room to the bed towards Ross, who was typing away on a laptop, what she wanted to do. She crawled in next to him, and began to whisper into his ear.
"Guess what underwear I'm wearing?" She whispered. Ross looked at her and smiled, but then looked back at his laptop.
"As much as I would love to, this paper is due tomorrow," The second week in a row. She wouldn't give up that easily.
"But sweetie, it's been forever." She whined. She pressed her lips to his, shoving her tongue inside his mouth ferociously. But he pulled away.
"I know, but this is very important," he stressed. Rachel sighed. She would just make him. That's all there was to it. She was tired of fighting him for it, begging. She went back towards his ear, biting his lobe. He smiled and chuckled in a low tone, but snapped out of it.
"Please Rachel, I need to concentrate."
"Urg." She groaned. She didn't know why it was like this. She wanted it so badly lately that she could hardly stand it. It was as if ever since she and Ross had gotten back together after Emma, she couldn't get enough of him. And now he wouldn't even put out, because of a stupid paper. Rachel rolled her eyes and stood up, entering the bathroom. She would just have to do it herself.....again. She'd just have to go to bed hot.
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Monica was slicing and dicing the carrots quite fiercely as Rachel entered her apartment, absorbed in recent disturbing events. Rachel also looked less than thrilled.
"What's your story?" Monica asked. Rachel scoffed.
"What story do you want?" Rachel scoffed. "Listen, can I... talk to you about something? It's sort of, ah, personal." She asked. Monica set down her dishrag, having a few things to talk about herself.
"If it has to do with my brother and your sex life, forget it." She sighed. Rachel was at the sad point of begging.
"Please Mon, I need someone!" She said clasping her hands together as if she were praying. Monica looked at her and gave in.
"GO ahead, NO DETAILS." Monica said sternly. Rachel plopped down in a kitchen chair and rested her elbows on the table.
"Well, it's sort of about Ross and me. Mainly just Ross. And me, I guess, but..."
"Spit it out, Rach," Monica said exasperatedly.
"We're not having sex anymore!" Rachel blurted out. Monica raised her eyebrows. "Don't worry, I won't go into any details - it's just, well, Ross and I used to be pretty heated, but now, it's like things are cooling off. I want it, he doesn't. I will, he won't. It's driving me up the freaking wall!" She said whining loudly. Monica sighed. "Oh, and his best excuse is always 'he's too busy!' Last night, we finally got a chance to be alone - the baby was asleep, we were both awake - and he was typing a paper! Seriously, what's more important, his paper, or sex with his girlfriend? Am I doing something wrong?"
"I don't know what to say. I've been asking myself the same question for weeks." Monica crossed her arms, memories of recent events reappearing in her mind. The one time Rachel doesn't talk about something completely superficial is the one time I could use that. Where's Phoebe when we need her?
"Waddya' mean?" Rachel asked, confused.
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'm not doing too well on the sex front either," Monica sighed.
"Really? How come?"
"More of the same, I guess," Monica said. "He's always too tired, or one of us is busy. I mean, last night I was practically in his pants and all he could say was that he was falling asleep."
"Really? I thought that with him being gone you guys would go crazy over the weekends," Rachel said in a serious tone. Monica shook her head as she got back to her dicing.
"Nope. He's not even trying. So I know EXACTLY how you feel. Ever since Chandler started going to Tulsa every week, he is so tired from jet lag to, er, uhm, get it up, you know? What is the matter with men these days?"
"Yeah, have they no respect for a woman's needs? You'd think they were................." Rachel trailed off as realization dawned on both of them. "Are they bored? Is our sex.................. not good enough anymore?"
Monica's eyes widened in horror. "No," she said quickly. "They wouldn't......... they wouldn't be bored with us.............would they?"
"I - I don't really know," Rachel said quietly. Both women were silent as they pondered this prospect.
"Well, what do we do? We can't live like this it's..........it's, it's unnatural is what it is," she coaxed. Monica sat at her table.
"Maybe we need to, uh............spice things up?" Monica suggested tentatively.
"How could we do that?" Rachel asked.
"Well, there are other things we can do," she began. Rachel sat giving her full attention to Monica, who's mind was obviously working feverishly.
"Yea?"
"Like, props," she said simply. Rachel just stared for a long moment.
"Props? As in play props?"
"Well, you can play with the props." Monica smiled. Rachel grinned too.
"And food." She nodded. Monica's eyes glistened.
"Food? Yea. I'm going to try that," she said standing up and rummaging through a her refrigerator. Rachel sighed.
"Ross would never go for food." She said dejectedly.
"How do you know?" Monica asked.
"Please, I am a TERRIBLE cook! Unless he would like to eat a Beef Trifle." She joked. Monica smiled to herself.
"Role Play!" She shouted. Rachel jumped by Monica's sudden burst of energy that she should have been used to by now. "Yea, like, he's the naughty little boy......:"
"So I am a pedophile?" Rachel asked flatly. Monica glared at her.
"No. Just sex things up. Like, Cops and robbers, doctor and patient. He could be the sailor, you could be the wench, he could be the shrink, you could be the mobster... You know the drill. " Monica laughed.
"Sure. For all I know if I sucked on a bone Ross would jump for that." She joked, standing up and getting ready to, leave. Monica sat back.
"Oh, and Rach? This conversation never happened," she stated. Rachel nodded.
"Agreed." HEY HEY HEY! This is MsAmericanPie, (XOXOELIZABETHXOXO) and JenniGllerBing (Jenni!) We hope you enjoyed Chapter one! HEY! E-MAIL US AT RossNChandlersGurls88@yahoo.com and we should write back! We love you, and be patient with this fic!!!!
Monica excitedly uncorked a bottle of wine. Her nerves were jangling, and the pop of the cork as it opened startled her. "Dammit," she muttered as a drop spilled onto the freshly ironed tablecloth.
Everything had to be perfect. Chandler was coming home from Tulsa tonight, and Monica was itching to have a romantic, passionate night, something that hadn't happened in a while. If Chandler wasn't in Tulsa, she was busy at work. If she was in the mood, he wasn't.
Monica looked down at herself and smiled. The cream-colored bra and panties with the lacy cover-up showed an unorthodox amount of skin, but it was perfect. She didn't have any worries about tonight. If this didn't turn Chandler on, nothing would!
As if on cue, the door opened. Chandler sluggishly walked in, dragging his roll-away suitcase behind him.
"Hey, sweetie," Monica said, sashaying up to him and wrapping her arms around him. She kissed him hard, but his only response was a half- hearted smooch.
"Hey," Chandler replied unenthusiastically.
"How was the flight?" Monica asked, pressing herself up against her husband, but he didn't budge, just slouched over.
"Eh," Chandler answered.
Okay, Monica thought. On to plan B. "Do you want some wine?"
"Not really," Chandler said, walking over to the couch and letting himself fall onto it.
"What?" Monica asked, surprised. Chandler knew what wine meant. "Is something wrong?"
"Not really, it's just that I'm exhausted," Chandler said, his eyelids drooping. "I was up all night working on a presentation for this morning, and you know I hate flying." He yawned for effect.
"Oh, but hon," Monica said, walking over to him. "I opened a bottle of wine... lit some candles..." she knelt in front of him. "I've been waiting for you all week," she said in a husky voice.
"I'm sorry, Mon," Chandler said, giving her a half-smile. "I really do want to..."
"Then come on," Monica said.
"I'm too tired, babes, maybe tomorrow night," Chandler said.
"I have to work late tomorrow!" Monica complained. She climbed up into Chandler's lap. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Monica was going to get some tonight, whether Chandler wanted to or not. "I want to nooo-oow," she mumbled, kissing his neck. She trailed kisses down his chest as she unbuttoned his shirt and tried to slip it off him, simultaneously fumbling for his belt buckle. But Chandler resisted.
"Mon, please," he moaned. "I'm exhausted. I'll fall asleep during it."
"I won't let you," Monica promised. She took his hand and eased it under her teddy. Chandler took her head and kissed her again, and then broke apart.
"I really am sorry, sweetheart," he said, groggily standing up. "But I do need to be here for most of it, and I'm about to fall asleep on my feet. Just come to bed. I promise I'll make it up to you." He kissed her cheek, mumbled a slurred good-night, and went into the bedroom.
"Sure you will," Monica mumbled, pouring the wine down the drain.
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Rachel entered the room in her short and, quite revealing blue nylon nightie. It was clear by the way she walked across the room to the bed towards Ross, who was typing away on a laptop, what she wanted to do. She crawled in next to him, and began to whisper into his ear.
"Guess what underwear I'm wearing?" She whispered. Ross looked at her and smiled, but then looked back at his laptop.
"As much as I would love to, this paper is due tomorrow," The second week in a row. She wouldn't give up that easily.
"But sweetie, it's been forever." She whined. She pressed her lips to his, shoving her tongue inside his mouth ferociously. But he pulled away.
"I know, but this is very important," he stressed. Rachel sighed. She would just make him. That's all there was to it. She was tired of fighting him for it, begging. She went back towards his ear, biting his lobe. He smiled and chuckled in a low tone, but snapped out of it.
"Please Rachel, I need to concentrate."
"Urg." She groaned. She didn't know why it was like this. She wanted it so badly lately that she could hardly stand it. It was as if ever since she and Ross had gotten back together after Emma, she couldn't get enough of him. And now he wouldn't even put out, because of a stupid paper. Rachel rolled her eyes and stood up, entering the bathroom. She would just have to do it herself.....again. She'd just have to go to bed hot.
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Monica was slicing and dicing the carrots quite fiercely as Rachel entered her apartment, absorbed in recent disturbing events. Rachel also looked less than thrilled.
"What's your story?" Monica asked. Rachel scoffed.
"What story do you want?" Rachel scoffed. "Listen, can I... talk to you about something? It's sort of, ah, personal." She asked. Monica set down her dishrag, having a few things to talk about herself.
"If it has to do with my brother and your sex life, forget it." She sighed. Rachel was at the sad point of begging.
"Please Mon, I need someone!" She said clasping her hands together as if she were praying. Monica looked at her and gave in.
"GO ahead, NO DETAILS." Monica said sternly. Rachel plopped down in a kitchen chair and rested her elbows on the table.
"Well, it's sort of about Ross and me. Mainly just Ross. And me, I guess, but..."
"Spit it out, Rach," Monica said exasperatedly.
"We're not having sex anymore!" Rachel blurted out. Monica raised her eyebrows. "Don't worry, I won't go into any details - it's just, well, Ross and I used to be pretty heated, but now, it's like things are cooling off. I want it, he doesn't. I will, he won't. It's driving me up the freaking wall!" She said whining loudly. Monica sighed. "Oh, and his best excuse is always 'he's too busy!' Last night, we finally got a chance to be alone - the baby was asleep, we were both awake - and he was typing a paper! Seriously, what's more important, his paper, or sex with his girlfriend? Am I doing something wrong?"
"I don't know what to say. I've been asking myself the same question for weeks." Monica crossed her arms, memories of recent events reappearing in her mind. The one time Rachel doesn't talk about something completely superficial is the one time I could use that. Where's Phoebe when we need her?
"Waddya' mean?" Rachel asked, confused.
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'm not doing too well on the sex front either," Monica sighed.
"Really? How come?"
"More of the same, I guess," Monica said. "He's always too tired, or one of us is busy. I mean, last night I was practically in his pants and all he could say was that he was falling asleep."
"Really? I thought that with him being gone you guys would go crazy over the weekends," Rachel said in a serious tone. Monica shook her head as she got back to her dicing.
"Nope. He's not even trying. So I know EXACTLY how you feel. Ever since Chandler started going to Tulsa every week, he is so tired from jet lag to, er, uhm, get it up, you know? What is the matter with men these days?"
"Yeah, have they no respect for a woman's needs? You'd think they were................." Rachel trailed off as realization dawned on both of them. "Are they bored? Is our sex.................. not good enough anymore?"
Monica's eyes widened in horror. "No," she said quickly. "They wouldn't......... they wouldn't be bored with us.............would they?"
"I - I don't really know," Rachel said quietly. Both women were silent as they pondered this prospect.
"Well, what do we do? We can't live like this it's..........it's, it's unnatural is what it is," she coaxed. Monica sat at her table.
"Maybe we need to, uh............spice things up?" Monica suggested tentatively.
"How could we do that?" Rachel asked.
"Well, there are other things we can do," she began. Rachel sat giving her full attention to Monica, who's mind was obviously working feverishly.
"Yea?"
"Like, props," she said simply. Rachel just stared for a long moment.
"Props? As in play props?"
"Well, you can play with the props." Monica smiled. Rachel grinned too.
"And food." She nodded. Monica's eyes glistened.
"Food? Yea. I'm going to try that," she said standing up and rummaging through a her refrigerator. Rachel sighed.
"Ross would never go for food." She said dejectedly.
"How do you know?" Monica asked.
"Please, I am a TERRIBLE cook! Unless he would like to eat a Beef Trifle." She joked. Monica smiled to herself.
"Role Play!" She shouted. Rachel jumped by Monica's sudden burst of energy that she should have been used to by now. "Yea, like, he's the naughty little boy......:"
"So I am a pedophile?" Rachel asked flatly. Monica glared at her.
"No. Just sex things up. Like, Cops and robbers, doctor and patient. He could be the sailor, you could be the wench, he could be the shrink, you could be the mobster... You know the drill. " Monica laughed.
"Sure. For all I know if I sucked on a bone Ross would jump for that." She joked, standing up and getting ready to, leave. Monica sat back.
"Oh, and Rach? This conversation never happened," she stated. Rachel nodded.
"Agreed." HEY HEY HEY! This is MsAmericanPie, (XOXOELIZABETHXOXO) and JenniGllerBing (Jenni!) We hope you enjoyed Chapter one! HEY! E-MAIL US AT RossNChandlersGurls88@yahoo.com and we should write back! We love you, and be patient with this fic!!!!