A/N: Yes, it's them, the 'other' Mondler from S6E15 The One That Could Have Been. I've always been fascinated by their story, how fat Monica and Loser Chandler not only manage to get together, but build up a loving relationship from there, plus in the end come out as the only real winners of all six of them, the only ones who are really happy at the end of the episode. I've planned this as a one shot with two chapters about their first night together for the time being, however there might be more if I get some more ideas about them, and of course, depending on the response this will get.

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Thank god for Chandler's habit of raiding her fridge on a regular basis. If he hadn't come over tonight, she would have spent a lonely, frustrated evening on her couch watching TV and eating all that aphrodisiac food she had spent all day preparing herself, even though it was supposed to get Roger if not all horny and lusting for her then at least to pay her some more attention for a change, make him realize that she was a woman. Not just a sounding board for his lectures, or a provider of free food and entertainment or even someone who paid him attention (there couldn't be that many others – at least not that many who managed to be still awake after 10 minutes), not even an immature girl, but a woman. Who had needs. Needs that it was high time to satisfy. Rachel had been right there, as embarrassed and uncomfortable their conversation had made her (but at least she had called her off her high horse at least once, that had to count for something), it had made her realize that if she really wanted it to happen, she had to make it happen. And she really did. Not only did she want to give up her flower, her flower was by now practically begging her to be given away. If it didn't get to be perfect, so what? It would be better than to be alone any longer. Anything would be better. And who said it wouldn't be perfect? She could work towards making it perfect.

So she had tried and for a moment it had indeed looked as if it worked. Everything had been perfect, with Phoebe in the hospital she finally had the apartment all to herself, she had a new black skirt that looked quite good on her, she had found some really amazing special recipes for just that kind of occasion and preparing all that exotic food had been so much fun. As usual Roger had been a little slow on the uptake, but she was quite sure he had finally caught on, because when she kissed him, his breath had actually hitched for a moment and even caused him to stutter a little. And if his awful beeper hadn't gone off at that very moment, she would really have pulled it off. Scored. Just a few more nudges, a little pushing – okay, maybe a lot more pushing – and she would have gotten him into her bedroom, maybe with a little dragging too, but she would have gotten there eventually. And once she had gotten him to drop his pants, she would have made sure his goddamn beeper would be shut off too. Why did he always have to be on call anyway? What did it actually tell her about him that his work was always more important than spending the night with her?

But it was and he had left and if it hadn't been for Chandler, she would have finished all that lovely couscous and the oysters by herself now. At least that way she would only gain one of those hard lost three and a half pounds back. Or maybe two, since apparently he preferred making fun of couscous to actually eating it.

Her friend Chandler. Ross's old college roommate who had somehow ended up in the apartment across from hers and now seemed to have become a part of her life, someone who was always around, almost like he was part of the scenery. As much a loser as she was, forever frustrated, clueless, broke, searching for recognition, success, the perfect score, with his glasses he thought made him look intellectual but really made him appear more vulnerable, and the Knicks cap that he never ever took off, hiding behind a mask of jaded casualness and sneering sarcasm while fervently hoping that no one would ever take that last shred of dignity and confidence away from him. She never would and that was probably why he spent so much more time with her than any of their other friends, Joey included. At times it seemed to her that they had a sort of unspoken pact going, a pact that ensured they'd both always have at least each other as a friend, someone to count on for friendly companionship, for things that were no fun or even impossible to do alone like going to the movies or play games. Over time she had gotten to know him pretty well. Unfortunately it meant that he knew her pretty well too, but that just couldn't be helped. But at least it meant that he understood her better than Joey or Phoebe, and especially Ross who still treated her like a child, and that he was actually aware of her feelings. Like now.

"I'm sorry you're here with me instead of Roger." he offered.

"Yeah, me too." She regretted it as soon as it was out – no need to take her frustration out on him - but he just shrugged it off.

"Well, I could make it seem like he's here." He pushed his glasses back up and managed to assume Roger's lecturing style fairly accurately. "Here's some little known facts about couscous. They didn't add the second cous until 1979. Bla-bla, blablarbblab-bla …"

"Stop it! That's not funny!" That made him blink. She rarely got this upset, but tonight had been a real disappointment and she was in no mood to have her last hope made fun of. Even if he had nailed it rather.

"I'm sorry, okay? It just—tonight was supposed to be - it was supposed to be a big deal."

"What was tonight?" God, why did he always have to know everything? But on the other hand she just had to talk to someone. All that frustration was getting too much.

"You don't want to know what tonight was."

"Okay." And just when she thought he wouldn't persist: "What was tonight?"

She had to let it out. "Well, tonight was—was going to be my first time."

"With Roger?" She couldn't meet his eyes and bit her lips suddenly wishing herself far away. "Not just with Roger?! Oh my God!"

Why did he have to sound so shocked? Was it really such a big deal? He of all people should know what it was like.

"All right, relax, Mr.-I've-Had-Sex-Four-Times!"

"Four different women!" he spat. "I've had sex way more times!"

Oh, sure. "How many?"

"Nine." Rather defensive all of a sudden, and she mentally divided that number by two. That number of women didn't sound all that realistic either. But who was she to talk? They were in the same boat after all.

"I was just waiting for the perfect guy." While she said it she realized how naïve that sounded. How – unrealistic. Illusionary. Yet Chandler seemed to find it perfectly acceptable. Once he probably had cherished the same illusion. Maybe still did.

"Well good, good for you. You really think that Roger is the perfect guy?"

"No." she admitted, amending it to "He's not a horrible guy ..."

That made him grin. "Hey that's what I tell girls about me!" Yeah, right, who cared? Suddenly all the pent up frustration burst out of her. "Chandler, I'm gonna die a virgin!"

"No you are not! You are sweet and wonderful and this is gonna happen for you." That actually sounded very sweet, but also too much like all those hollow promises she got to hear all the time and that were of no practical help at all. She had enough of those. Did he really think he could make her feel better with just that?

"Oh really? When?" Time to get down to brass tacks. "Do you wanna do it with me?"

"Okay." He'd answered quickly, almost casually even and only when she stared at him open-mouthed, he seemed to realize the whole extent of what he'd said and froze. Suddenly her throat seemed too tight.

"I - I was kidding!"

He swallowed. "So was I …" But his face told another story and she narrowed her eyes. Okay. This was Chandler, her awkward, insecure, flippant, needy, boyish, sometimes annoying friend. Could she really do this with him? Well, she had been prepared to do it with Roger, who was certainly no catch, so why not at least consider it? As he had said himself, he wasn't a horrible person. Quite the contrary. Or would it be too embarrassing?

"We can't do this." He mumbled now, almost echoing her thoughts.

"No!" They both laughed with a sort of fake relief, and she offered him another oyster. He took it, but just put it on his plate instead of eating it.

"If - if we did do this there would be a lot of pressure on me, y'know? Because you've been waiting a very long time and I wouldn't want to disappoint you."

Good, so he actually was still considering it. And though it showed her how insecure he was, that argument was actually very sweet and considerate.

"Yeah, but see I have nothing to compare it too. So even if you're horrible, how would I know?"

"I do like that." He did seem a little reassured.

"It's harder for me! I have those four other women to compete with!"

He looked a little sheepish at that. "Well, if it helps there were only three." That still seemed at least one too many, but never mind.

"So it would just be for tonight, right?"

So there it was, out on the table. Just what she had wanted. No romance. No perfect dream night. Just the physical act, to help her mature, get more confident, acquaint her with the facts of life, grow-up at last. Once it was done she could look forward, be able to get a better grip on things, secure in the knowledge that she finally knew what it was all about …

"Absolutely! It would just be one friend helping out another friend."

"Stop it! We're not doing this!" But then he seemed to waver again. God, why was this so hard? "Let's do it!"

"Noo!" But if she chickened out now, there would be no other chance and she would regret it for the rest of her days. And how would the two of them be able to keep up their friendship if this untaken chance remained between them?

"Okay!"

"Okay!" They got up and stood facing each other nervously in front of the fridge. Chandler seemed to be at a total loss how to proceed, so she took the initiative, not wanting to lose any more time.

"Umm, do you have any uhh, moves?" Not that she knew what that really meant, but he didn't need to know that.

His mouth worked. "I have some moves."

"I have no moves." She looked at him with some apprehension as he slowly approached her, lowering his head a little and leaning in with his mouth puckered – and all of a sudden her nerve left her again. This was so strange, how could she kiss him? She had never really kissed before, only short pecks on the lips that didn't lead to anything. But if she let him kiss her, it wouldn't be just a peck, just their lips touching. He would expect more. There would be spit involved. Maybe even tongues – ugh. She wasn't ready for that. Or was she?

"Okay, whatcha doin' there?!" She withdrew just as he backed off too, and then wanted to kick herself. "Oh y'know what? I'm sorry, this is just too weird."

"Yeah, let's just forget it." He agreed and when she saw how freaked he too seemed to be, her resolution returned. She was so close, how could she turn back now? Okay, maybe if they couldn't see each other?

"What if I turn out the lights?"

"Okay!" That sounded rather relieved too, but she was already on her way across the room to flip the switch on the wall between the two bedroom doors. The room went dark, too dark for her to see anything at first, and then only the vaguest of schemes. Cautiously she felt her way back until she reached the couch, all the while listening for him. She could hear him breathing as he came closer. Then only the couch was between them and he reached out –

and his hand encountered the couch and as he started to stroke it and moan a little, she realized that he could see even less than her and had actually mistaken the backrest for her. And just like that her insecurity vanished. She had nothing to prove, no one to impress. This wasn't a test. And Chandler was no stranger. She had never kissed him, but they had been close before, quite often actually, had hugged each other, sat squeezed together on the sofa in Central Perk, had shared her easy chair and his Barcalounger. It had always felt nice. He was no threat. Anything but. If there was anyone she could do it with, it was him.

"Oh yeah ..."

"Chandler?"

"Yeah?" He actually sounded turned on. It was almost funny, but she couldn't, wouldn't spoil it now by making fun of him.

"That's the couch."

There was a pause while he kept himself very still. Then -

"I know." It sounded almost resigned and she acted without thinking, stepping around the couch and putting her arms around him. He turned to her and slowly, almost hesitantly drew her close, wrapping his arms around her. Only then she did wonder if it would turn out she was too bulky for him, that his arms wouldn't reach – but actually he managed quite nicely.

For a long moment they just remained like that while their bodies tentatively got used to each other, established contact. She felt his hand on the back of her head stroking her hair and his fingers wriggling under her scarf to caress her neck, and then his cheek on hers, his slight stubble tickling her jawbone as he breathed in.

"I was just … you know, getting in the mood …"

"With my couch?" She tightened her arms to show him that she didn't mean it, was just trying to keep it light, casual, while she really was getting nervous again. It just felt so strange to feel him so close to her in the dark, pressing against her and know that soon they would get closer still, would get naked, would do it. This was it.

And yet it felt so good. Her arms seemed to fit right around him and his body felt – comfortable somehow. Soft but solid, and his warmth was comforting, even reassuring. Also he smelled quite good, that Speed Racer t-shirt must have been freshly laundered when he had put it on this morning. When he chuckled a little self-deprecatingly, she felt the vibrations in his chest against her arms and her breasts. It made her realize that he too was feeling her pressed against him, her body, her breasts against his chest, maybe even how her nipples had hardened – that thought was confusing and exciting at the same time. She tried to get closer still, mold herself against him and even raised one of her knees a little and rubbed it against his thigh. She felt him breathe in sharply at that, and then his arms tightened around her. When he raised his head she instinctively knew what he was about to do and held herself very still, closing her eyes.

The first thing she felt was the tip of his nose touching hers and it made them both laugh breathlessly for a moment. Then his lips descended on hers while she was still laughing, and tentatively brushed across her mouth. It made her heart beat faster. Oh my god, he was actually kissing her, this was her first real kiss ever … and it felt so – amazing. Now he pressed closer, but the touch was still very light, just his lips on hers, gently moving, nudging, exploring … He didn't demand, didn't force himself on her, only teased and caressed, until she couldn't resist any longer and cautiously opened her mouth just a little, let her lips part under his as if by themselves. She heard him breathe in again sharply and felt his head turn just a fraction so he could get a better angle, then his mouth pressed closer again. She thought he would stick his tongue into her mouth next and was pleasantly surprised when he just started to nibble at her lips instead. Every now and then his teeth would touch her lips briefly, making a rather exciting contrast to the softness of his mouth as they caught on the inside of her lips, and the way they grazed across the sensitive skin made her head swim. She threw herself into the game wholeheartedly then, catching his lower lip playfully with her teeth and letting it go again. He moaned a little at that and opened his mouth a little more, and then she did encounter his tongue, but just the tip and he didn't push it forward, but let it hover between his teeth, just offering it to her. And there was no way she could resist that offer, not when it made her heart pound that wildly and her knees go so weak. When their tongues touched she marveled at how hot his seemed and the thrills that touch sent through her. His breath-rate sped up until he was almost panting and only when the kiss broke again she became aware that she had been running out of air too. They kept their heads close together though and after a few hasty breaths she urgently pressed her mouth on his again, hungry for more. If only she had known before how amazing this was! It made her body tingle and vibrate, open up somehow like a new leaf unfurling to the sun … Then she felt his hands move. The one on the back of her neck crept under her hair and his fingers started to caress the skin of her neck while the one on her shoulders moved a little downwards towards the small of her back until it reached the edge of her jacket, and then his fingertips slid under it, cautiously exploring the lay of the land there. It should have felt strange, maybe even alarming, but somehow she welcomed it, even wanted to encourage him. On an impulse she started to bunch up his t-shirt and sweatshirt under it and slid her hands up his back. When her fingers touched his skin they both started a little, but he immediately resumed the kiss, if possible even more urgent than before. Soon she found that she couldn't get enough of his skin. It amazed her how soft it was, and how smooth and warm. There was his spine and some ribs, and here she could feel one of his shoulder-blades. She could feel him move his arm on that side just before she felt his hand slowly advance upwards under her cardigan. She only wore a thin chemise under it, and her bra of course, and when she realized that he was heading slowly but surely for the latter another thrill went through her. So this was what it was like to make out with someone, have someone feel you up, someone who really wanted you …

When their kiss broke for the second time her heart was beating like a sledgehammer. His was going pretty fast too, she could feel it under her hand and hear it in his breath. She clung to him even harder, not sure of her footing anymore, her knees kept buckling somehow. When he searched for her mouth again, she swallowed and tried to speak. At first only a squeak came out and she had to take a deep breath and try again.

"Shouldn't we – you think – go – umm – I mean, not here …?"

He held himself still, even holding his breath, and then sighed.

"Yeah … sure. Of course. By all means … um – are you sure?"

"Yes!" She pressed her hands against his back, drawing him close again and laughing breathlessly. His breath hitched and his other hand joined the one on her back under her jacket and pressed down too. That was when she felt the sudden bulge rising at his center as it strained against his jeans. It gave her a deep thrill and when he tried to shift a little to hold himself away from her she wouldn't let him. After a moment he relaxed again and they kissed once more, with a few breathless laughs mixed into the kiss. She wanted to shout with joy and triumph. She had done it, she had caused him to have an erection. It felt utterly amazing. And deeply exciting.

She couldn't tell who made the first move towards the bedroom, but somehow she found herself being steered backwards and then turning around and pushing him in turn without letting him go once. They reached the door and she spared a hand to open it, and give it a push to shut it behind them again. There was a little more light in her bedroom from the streetlamp far below her window, just enough she could see a little more of him than a vague shadow. They stumbled to the bed, still kissing and moaning, grabbing and clutching at each other and first sat and then sank down on it. He hooked a leg over her hip and pushed up her jacket once more while they kissed and she slid her hand under his t-shirt over his waist and tugged at it. Then all of a sudden she couldn't wait any longer. Raising herself up on one elbow she started to unbutton her cardigan and wiggled out of it, and tore off her scarf too. Chandler stared at her, the dim light catching in his glasses and she thought she saw him swallow. For a moment he remained still, then he abruptly sat up, grabbed hold of his sweater and t-shirt and pulled both of them up over his head together, fighting his way out of them and finally flinging them off. She stared at him, letting her gaze wander over his chest and shoulders, noting the way his chest hair started just under his nipples and spread across his ribs, then grew in a sort of line down to his navel. His skin was very light, like hers, untouched by the sun except on his arms and over his neckline. Now he caught her staring at him and smiled rather shyly, while he proceeded to kick off his sneakers. It reminded her that she was still wearing her shoes too and she took them off too, and then drew down the zipper of her skirt and pushed it over her legs, letting it fall over the edge of the bed. When she raised her eyes again she saw that he was watching her intently and felt a queer fluttering in her stomach. If she took off anything more she would be naked, and so would he, once he took off his pants …

Then he scooted over and reached out for her, drawing her close. She sank against him with a sigh and they kissed again. His hands slid over her arms and back and finally over her hips, still in her black pantyhose that was slowly but surely becoming too warm for her. But she couldn't bring herself to take it off. He would see how wide her hips were and how huge her panties. What if that turned him off? If only … Just then he lowered his head and kissed her on her shoulder under the clavicle and then on her neck where her pulse hammered under the skin.

"Let's get under the covers" he whispered and just like that she felt utterly relieved. Of course, that was the way it would work. Why hadn't she thought of that herself?

"Could you – take off your pants first?"

"Oh yeah, sure." He rolled on his back, fumbling at the button and she couldn't help noticing that the bulge was still very much in evidence. He caught her gaze and grinned wryly.

"Would you like to …?"

She nodded and sat up, got off the bed and took hold of the pant legs, tugging at them carefully while he pushed and wriggled. He was wearing rather faded blue boxers that were so worn and saggy that they threatened to come down along with his jeans and once his pants were gone were comically tenting over his groin. He drew up his legs rather hastily and scooted backwards over the bed, hurriedly getting under the covers, and she realized that he was as embarrassed about his body as she was about hers. Or maybe it was just about the sad state of his underwear, but it still made her feel a lot better, and she tossed the jeans over her chair and climbed back on the bed. Chandler held the covers open for her and she got under them, drew them up to her breast and then started to take off her chemise. After she had struggled out of it she turned to him and saw him staring at her open-mouthed.

"Chandler …"

"You're … you're so beautiful …"

"What?!" She couldn't believe her ears.

He reached out to her and took up a lock of her hair. "Your hair … and your skin …" his gaze dropped lower and he slowly let go of her hair again and put his hand on her breast, his fingertips feeling for the nipple over the bra, then he bent forwards and started to kiss her all over her chest, her neck, the swell of her breasts. She put her arm around his shoulders and held him close, cradled him against her breasts, hardly noticing when he started to fumble at her bra clasp. Then it opened and her bra came away and she let it slide over her arms as he cupped her breasts in his hands and kissed and sucked the nipples. She gasped when she felt his tongue on them and sank back on the pillow moaning and shuddering. He got even closer and they pressed against each other, arms and legs entwining and rubbing against each other. Her hands moved down his back to his buttocks as if on their own accord and she pushed his boxers away and down over his thighs. The feel of his butt cheeks, so smooth and rounded under her hands excited here even more and when his erection poked against her belly again, she slowly moved her hand towards his groin. Just as her fingertips grazed across his pubic hair, he grabbed her hand and closed his own around it. For a moment she thought he didn't want her to touch him there, but then he drew her hand towards his penis until it her fingers came to lie across its length and when she gently closed her hand around it and rubbed it a little with her thumb he sighed deeply. She could feel how it thrilled him to have her touch it and stroke it with her fingertips, and she couldn't get over how soft and silky the skin over it felt, and how rubbery and flexible it still seemed inspite of the urgent vibrating hardness. But after a little while of this he drew in his breath sharply and winced a little.

"What is it?"

"Um – nothing, it's alright, I just don't want to – you know. Um, I guess you don't though. Well, lets say, I just need a minute or …"

"Or what?"

He gently took her hand away. "Or it might get a little messy."

"Oh. Are you okay again?"

"Oh yeah. No, don't worry. I got it. It's okay." He started to kiss her breasts again, gently cupping and stroking them at the same time. Now her pantyhose was definitely getting too hot for her under the covers and she started to push it down together with her panties. When she had gotten them halfway down her thighs, Chandler actually spared a hand to help her, though never taking his eyes of her breasts. Once they slid over her knees she used her feet to get them off altogether, and instead of taking his hand away again Chandler left it lying on her thigh, gently stroking over her skin as he let it slide up towards her hips. Then his fingers slid between her legs, rather hesitantly at first, then more determined while he raised himself a little to kiss her at the same time his fingertips touched her – down there, and her breath hitched. It's my vulva he's touching she thought all of a sudden. Not 'down there'. My mound. And now, oh god … For a breathless moment she hesitated, stiffening, then she was overwhelmed by it all, his breath on her face, his mouth on hers, his chesthair tickling her skin and his hand on her thigh where his fingers were slowly and gently exploring her depths, actually dipping into her now, into her vagina, and she sank back again and wrapped her arms around him, clutching him to her and kissing him back. When his fingertip touched a sensitive spot, it made her arch her back and clamp her thighs together.

"Aahh … oh god … no, don't stop, DON'T stop!"

He didn't stop, on the contrary, now his fingertip pressed down on that very spot again and then started to tease it a little, rub it, never letting off no matter how much she shuddered and squirmed. And screamed and moaned into their kiss, clawing at his shoulders and back. And he was as excited as her, his breath came in short bursts now and she could feel him shaking under her hands. Then he raised himself a little more and urgently pushed her thighs apart with his other hand, shifting until he was kneeling between her legs. She held him to her by his shoulders and arms, her hands clenching each time his fingers wriggled and curled, causing the most amazing sensations to run through her like ripples from a wave that was building up somewhere deep inside her. Supporting himself on one elbow he leaned forward over her and their lips met again. Somewhere in the back of her mind she noted that he still had his glasses on – and his hat for that matter - but couldn't really care, all her attention was riveted on what was happening between them, the amazing way his mouth felt on hers, his hips and buttocks under her calf as she hooked her leg over his lower back, his shoulders under her hands … And it still wasn't enough, she wanted more, more of him against her, on her … in her. So she pulled him down, stroking the length of his back and cupping his buttocks, moaning when she felt him settle carefully on her. Then he withdrew his fingers and grabbed her hand, guiding it to his penis. At first she thought that it wasn't as hard as it had been earlier, but as soon as she touched it, grazing gently across it with her nails, she felt it swelling and hardening again under her hand. Panting, she brought it closer until its tip touched her vulva and pressed softly against it, teasing and nudging. Chandler moaned and she felt him tremble, almost as much as her. Feeling as if in a dream she guided him further in and screamed softly when he nudged and pushed forward and deeper and then hesitated again.

"Mmm … oh god Monica, oh my … are you alright ..? Does it hurt?"

"No. No, it's alright, it's … so good … don't stop …"

And it didn't hurt in any way, except for a very slight friction as she felt herself giving way around him. She had expected it to hurt much more, and feel quite differently, nothing at all like this deliciously slow slippery advance, and it delighted and thrilled her to the core. It amazed her how everything seemed to fit, was perfect, how meant to be. Their bodies seemed to fuse together, complementing each other, every move answered and returned. She withdrew her hand and put it on his buttocks, holding him against her as he slowly pushed deeper into her, cradling him. He pushed his hands under her shoulders and neck and started to kiss her again as he slowly settled his weight on her, moving as if in slow motion, gently and without any urgency. Then only his hips continued to move while the rest of him kept still, and the way he did it, so languidly and almost dreamily at first and then a little faster, but still somewhat restrained and careful, in a slow drawn out rhythm, drove her crazy with lust. She felt electrified, tingling and elated, almost delirious. Somehow it seemed to her as if her body – and maybe his – had now taken over and managed to work this unbelievable act all on their own, operating on pure instinct, a deep primal subconscious knowledge of how this should be done, and she was only too glad to let it happen. When her hips started to strain against his it seemed to happen all by itself, without her consciously causing it, and it seemed totally natural and matter of course. Oh, how could she not have experienced this sooner? Why had nobody told her how wonderful this was? Why had she wasted so much time?

And as if that wasn't amazing enough, it kept getting more exciting, the ripples of lust spreading out in shorter intervals now, intensifying, building up to a huge wave that finally broke, sweeping through her, and that was when she cried out and kept screaming as she clawed his back and tightened her legs on his hips, hardly noticing that he had stopped and held himself still.

"Oh god, did you just …? Oh wow …"

"Don't stop …" she moaned. "For god's sake, don't stop …!"

"Okay … but … oh yeah, wow, oh, ummmm …" It took him a bit to get into his rhythm again and when he finally got going again she noticed that his movements had become more strained and that he was now panting in short hectic bursts. She wrapped her arms around his waist and clasped him to her, stroking his back and buttocks soothingly. It seemed to work, he relaxed and slowed down a little again, breathing deeply. Then came a deep shudder that went through him, a soft sigh and a last drawn out thrust, after which he slumped down over her, pressing his face against her shoulder. Only for a few moments though, then he pushed himself up again, still panting, and tried to move himself away. She held him tight, not wanting to lose him so quickly and he relented and stayed with her a little more, until they both had calmed somewhat again.

At last he heaved himself up again and she released him, though reluctantly, and drew up the covers that had slipped down and bundled up somewhere around their legs. He lay on his back beside her, still gasping for air, and then felt for her hand and squeezed it.

"Oh god, I can't believe this, did you really -?"

"What?"

"Did you come?"

"Oh. I guess. I must have. It was so …"

"Oh wow. Oh my god ...OH MY GOD ..!"

"I know!" She wanted to shout it out to the world, dance on the rooftops, scream it to the winds. And do it again of course, over and over, now that she had realized how wonderful it could be.

"I'll tell you something, we are going to do that again!"

He laughed breathlessly at that. "Oh - - okay!" And rolled over and on top of her in one swift movement, drowning her joyful squeal with his kiss.