Rachel is kissing me. The women who is lately the sole object of all my thoughts and dreams is sitting on my lap and kissing me as if her life depends on it. Sadly enough, this can't be a good thing. It is bad, it shouldn't be happening and it sure as hell goes against every rule I ever followed. You don't make out with your best friends girlfriend, ex-girlfriend or relative. Okay, Chandler did this, but Ross had kissed his mother first, so maybe it doesn't really count that Chandler is now married to Ross' sister.
You very certainly don't make out with the soon to be mother of your best friend's child.
It is like my hottest fantasy and my worst nightmare rolled into one searing kiss. Boy, that girl can kiss! I don't think I have ever been kissed like that before and trust me, I have been kissed a lot.
She is writhing on my lap, making all those sounds that are threatening to drive me past the point of no return really soon.
I've got to stop this, even if I'm gonna hate myself for that for the rest of my life.
After a few more seconds I manage to push her away but speaking is a whole different matter.
"Rach, we can't ... This ... not right."
She looks at me as if she is about to cry. Oh, please don't cry Rachel, you know I can't deal with that.
"But it feels... it feels so right, Joey. It feels so ... so great."
Soon enough she kisses my neck and every conscious thought is fleeing me for a while.
"I can't ... can't do this, Rachel ... can't do this."
When I look at her I meet pleading eyes. "Please Joe, please. You don't have to do anything. Just ... just please let me do this. Please ..."
I don't understand what's going on. Well, I know a few weeks ago she has felt 'erotically charged' and was about ready to take me to bed, but that were the pregnancy hormones and after a while everything seemed to be back to normal.
Well, normal if you don't count the fact that I started to develop this hideously inappropriate crush on her that makes it so much harder to say no to her right now. How can I say no to her when she looks at me like this, when she is practically begging me to let her do 'this' whatever 'this' might entail?
She doesn't wait for me to make up my mind. She just begins to unbutton my shirt and resumes kissing me, touching every square inch of my body she can get her hands on. I suppose I just have to let that happen. It doesn't seem real anyway.
Maybe it is just one of those dreams again. Some crazy dream where we went from watching a stupid horror movie to having sex on the barcalounger. Because from what I can tell, this is what's going to happen. She is making the sounds again. Not the one she told me about when she showed me her 'end of the night move'. No, this one sounds like she is in pain, like something terrible is going to happen to her if she can't get our clothes off fast enough.
I can't help her, I'm still paralyzed. On some level I realize that I'm not living up to my reputation at all, but I'm not even sure if she will remember what happened. It feels like I'm taking advantage of her since she is clearly not herself right now. On the other hand I'm really doing nothing at all. I'm not even kissing her anymore.
I'm just sitting here like an idiot, feeling her hands and lips all over me, feeling her tugging at the zipper of my pants, hearing her squeal with delight that I'm not wearing any underwear and that I'm ... well , rock hard. Who wouldn't be after what she just did?
Somewhere along the way she must have managed to wriggle out of her sweatpants and panties. We are surely a sight to behold. Me with my open shirt and open pants pushed halfway down my thighs, her only in her t-shirt and naked from the waist downwards.
It briefly occurs to me that this might be my last chance to prevent anything drastic from happening.
But before I can form any coherent sentence, she is sinking down onto me and takes me inside in one smooth move. It is nothing like I ever wished it to be and at the same time it is better than everything I could ever imagine.
She begins rocking against me and moans and is all, "This is so good ... oh Joey I wanted that so badly, oh my god, oh yeah, oh Joey" and she looks ... she looks... I can't even describe how she looks. Ecstatic Rachel is probably the eighth world wonder. And God help me but I start to move with her. If we are already doing stuff, I might as well make it good for her.
I bring my hand between our bodies and start rubbing my thumb against her clit. She lets out a surprised cry and looks down at me with an expression in her eyes that takes my breath away. It is like there is something more behind all this passion filled frenzy than the mere fulfillment of physical needs.
But soon she closes her eyes again and picks up the pace of her movements.
The onslaught of intense physical sensations combined with all those new and unfamiliar feelings I have, brings me close to the edge in a matter of seconds but still renders me unable to do more than just take what by some miracle is given to me.
I feel her inner walls clenching around me when she comes, I hear her moan loudly, I can feel the first signs of an outstanding powerful orgasm and then I follow her into oblivion only seconds later.
Never – ever – was it like this for me.
For me, sleeping with women was always like some kind of a game. The thrill of the hunt, the excitement of scoring, the satisfaction of making it great for both of us. It doesn't matter who is hitting on whom, it is always a carefully constructed game of letting someone know you're interested but not giving the impression of wanting it too much. It is all about rules and moves and strategies, about things you do and you better don't, especially when you have sex. You can't let yourself lose control but of course you don't want to seem too controlled. There are expectations to fulfill and a reputation to uphold.
Rachel didn't expect this to happen, it was just something that came over her as unexpected as it came for me. No one of us was pursuing the other, we just stumbled into this. Who would have thought that the surprise effect could make it so much better.
There were no plans and expectations, no time to control oneself or think about appearances and reputations. There was nothing but raw and unveiled need. For both of us. Because if I'm honest I know I needed this as much as she did from the moment she started kissing my neck.
When I have sex with other women, as soon as it's over, I already think of an excuse for taking off.
This is not what I want with her now. I want to hold her shaking body until she calms down. I want to take her to my bed and touch her and kiss her and tell her what I feel. I want to wrap myself around her and let her fall asleep in my arms.
It hurts me more than I can say to know that this can't happen.
She pulls back to look at me, eyes still unnaturally bright and says, "Well, that was fun."
That one hurts. There is nothing like a big bucket of cold water to bring you back to reality.
"Remind me to get you a new dictionary one of these days, Rachel," I say and it comes out a lot more grumpy than I intended it to.
Her expression darkens considerably. "Oh my God. What … what did I do? Oh god I'm so sorry. I … I .." She scrambles off me and storms into her room not even bothering to pick up her clothes along the way.
I've given up on trying to go to sleep around four in the morning.
Not only that everything seems worse and worse the longer I thought about it. Thinking about it also made it impossible for me to cool off, to calm down. I could still smell her on my skin, I still had her taste on my lips, I could still feel her touch and the memory of the intense sensations she made me experience kept me in a constant state of almost unbearable arousal. I even tried to take care of that myself but that only helped for a while before the memories started everything again. What I need now is a really cold shower.
As I stand in the bathtub, ready to turn the water on, I pause for a while because suddenly it feels like I want to wash her off of me, to get rid of her.
I push the silly notion aside and turn the water on. The cold spray hitting my heated skin almost hurts, but after a while it feels as if it brings back a bit of clarity, a bit of perspective.
Rachel had turned to me in a moment of weakness. And instead of being there for her, of helping her get through it in a way a friend would have, I took advantage of her for my own very selfish reasons.
Why didn't I possess the same strength I had a few weeks ago when I told her to go to her room when she talked to me of what she was going through at the moment? I'm sure it was just the same thing. And we both were right about it being bad and wrong. Nothing has changed since then.
Well, nothing except what I feel for her.
Shivering after standing under the cold water probably a bit too long, I reach for my towel and step out of the bathtub.
Time to do some real thinking about what to do next.
What I did has the potential to destroy everything that means something to me. But since I can't turn back time, since it can't be undone, the only way to stop that from happening is to forget about it. To pretend it never happened.
And this is something we both will have to do.
So it looks like there is no other way as to talk with her about that, however awkward this is going to be.
When Rachel is coming out of her room two hours later, she looks surprised to see me already up. Then she looks away from me and hurriedly heads for the bathroom.
Yeah, this is gonna be very awkward.
After a few times of back and forth between her room and the bathroom, she comes towards the kitchen area, avoiding to look at me. "Good morning," she mumbles, sitting down on one of the stools.
"Good morning, Rach."
I'm shaking a box of Choco Pops and ask, "Cereals?"
Rachel nods and waits for me to fill her bowl and hand her a spoon.
"Rachel …"
"Joey …"
Starting to talk at the same time doesn't help the awkwardness of the situation.
Okay so I'm the guy here and this is certainly not the first awkward situation I've ever been in, I should say something.
"Rach, about what happened. I think we shouldn't make a big thing about this. We didn't plan it, it just happened and it was purely physical. We both don't want to hurt Ross. So why don't we just forget about it? Like it had never happened."
Rachel looks down at her cereals, turning the spoon nervously around in her hand. "You're right, it's no big deal."
Thank God, that was so much easier than I thought. She don't even seem to blame me or anything.
"Yeah, it's so not a big deal. And it won't happen again, so no harm done, right?"
"I'm really sorry I started this, Joe. I don't know what brought it on."
"Hey, it's okay. You're pregnant, it's the hormones," I offer.
Rachel doesn't look convinced.
"It's no big deal, remember," I try again.
Now I only need to figure out how to convince myself of that.
"Yeah, right, no big deal."
She is still looking down at her cereals as if she is seeing something particularly interesting and chews on her bottom lip sexily. God, I can't even look at her anymore without getting all hot and bothered. I guess that rules out any further physical contact, since I don't think I would be able to stop myself.
"It was really great, you know", she whispers.
So she upgraded it from 'fun' to 'great'. Who would have thought that being embarrassingly passive would be considered great. And yeah, totally amazing. Best I ever had. But of course telling her that is pointless cause we're not going to do it again – ever.
"Well, as much as I would like to feel really proud right now, I guess I don't deserve the credit. I didn't do anything. You were the one in charge."
Oh man, that so didn't sound like what I wanted to say. I hadn't meant to rub it in that she was practically jumping me. From what I gathered she feels bad enough about this already.
She still chases her cereals around in the bowl without eating them and says, "Maybe …. maybe that's part of why it was so great."
xxxxxx
tbc
