A/N- Hey, guys!
Firstly, let me apologise! I was hoping to have this chapter published yesterday, but let me tell you, this was the most difficult chapter I have ever written. This chapter is called 'One layer at a time' when it should really be called 'Welcome to my personal hell' haha!
Whilst doing my research, I found out just how many layers a Victorian woman wore, and so writing Monica getting undressed was a long and tedious task, and I wanted to try and keep it as interesting as possible. I also had to change the last little paragraph on the previous chapter where Chandler was gripping the lace at the bottom of her corset because I realised that the corset would actually be underneath the bodice. It is not a major difference though.
I just want to thank my very good friend, C-Rokkk, who has kept me sane whilst writing this chapter. If you haven't checked out her incredible fanfics, you should go do so, especially 'What are the chances', which she is currently writing. It's amazing!
I do hope you all enjoy this chapter as I am sure you have all been waiting for Chandler's first lesson. It is very M-Rated though, so be warned!
Please leave a review so I know that the pain of having to write this chapter wasn't in vain haha! And thank you so, so much to all those who have reviewed my previous chapters.
I love you all!
This was the moment he had been waiting for, and now that it was finally here, he couldn't quite believe it was happening. Blood rushed in his ears as he popped open the first button, the anticipation of what was going to happen this evening both exciting and nerve-wracking. He was confident enough to know he wanted to do this, and despite having no experience, being with her made him feel confident enough to make the first moves too. Such as now, as he slowly moved up to the button above, popping that one open too, his eyes never leaving hers the whole time.
Monica swallowed hard. She wanted to do this. In fact, she was honoured that he trusted her enough to be the one to teach him all about sex. But she still felt a tremor of nerves tremble through her body because Chandler was not like any of the other clients she'd had. She had never, in her two years of doing this, felt such a strong connection with someone. And suddenly, she felt timid at the prospect of him seeing her naked for the first time.
The fact that she had known him for a month now, despite this being only their second meeting, made tonight feel considerably suspenseful, the arousing expectation of being together completely enthralling.
"Chandler?" She whispered as he popped open three more buttons, the white of her corset peeking through from underneath.
He pushed the tips of his fingers underneath the bodice, feeling the bumps of the whalebone ridges in the corset.
"Yes?" He murmured as he tried to push his hand round further but couldn't because of her still-tight bodice.
"This is your first time undressing a woman, right?" She asked, already knowing the answer as she brought a hand up to grip onto his shoulder, another one of her buttons popping open under his fingers.
"It is," he confirmed, looking directly into her eyes as he continued to unbutton the rest of her bodice, never breaking eye contact.
He could have sworn he saw her pupils dilate when he reached the final button at the top, a faint blush appearing on her chest, just above her covered breasts.
"And you are one hundred percent certain you want to do this?" She questioned, her fingers digging into his shoulder as he thumbed the final button.
His eyes left hers, travelling to the button for a split second before darting them back up, watching as she licked her lips.
"I am," he responded, his voice becoming husky as the last button finally gave way.
Chandler skimmed his hands down the soft fabric of her sleeves. The material was a deep burgundy, shimmering in the candlelight. He toyed with the slightly torn lace trim around the sleeves before gliding his hands back up, then slipped them under the bodice to slip it off her shoulders.
He swiftly placed it over the back of the chair, then turned back around to see her watching him. He noticed for the first time just how pale she was. Her silky skin was that of a primrose, white petals with the softest hint of gold as a subtle layer of freckles dusted over her back and chest.
Monica shivered at the way he was looking at her, his eyes warm with adoration. No one had ever looked at her like that before, and it made something inside of her twist. What though, she wasn't sure. But it was definitely new and exciting.
Chandler used his fingers to follow the ridges of the whalebone in her corset, which was tied tightly to accentuate her breasts, pushing them upwards to help entice any potential customers. He traced the third ridge across from the right, following it upwards and stopping a third of the way to where he guessed her nipple would most likely be if it wasn't hidden by the stiff material.
"What is the point of the boning in corsets? Is it to aid in emphasising a woman's ample bosom and slim physic?" Chandler questioned, genuinely curious.
A light blush spread across Monica's cheeks at his wording, and she quietly cleared her throat before responding, "So you do know some stuff?" She grinned.
Now it was his turn to blush. "Err, yeah. I have accidently come across some of my mother's writings," he replied awkwardly, seemingly embarrassed to reveal this information.
"Writing's?" Monica prompted, her interest piquing.
Chandler absentmindedly played with the frills along the rim of her corset. "Yeah, she, um, writes romantic erotic novels," he mumbled out.
Monica raised her eyebrows, not expecting that response, a hint of confusion entering her mind, "I thought your parents owned and ran a coffeehouse?"
"They do, but she does it on the side. I'm not too sure why, to be honest, it's not like we need the money," he explained, his hands now resting on her waist.
"Maybe she does it for recreational purposes," Monica suggested as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Maybe," Chandler shrugged, eager to get off the topic.
Monica narrowed her eyes slightly. "Why do you seem so embarrassed. So she writes erotic novels, so what? I don't see how that is any worse than me being a prostitute. At least hers is fictional, but this is actually my life."
Chandler quickly removed his hands from her waist as if the material burned him, her words unexpectedly sharp. It wasn't his intention to offend her, he just didn't want to talk about his mother's fairly taboo literary writings.
"N-no," he stumbled, "I'm not embarrassed, I just- I didn't know what you would think about it. It's not something usually brought up in conversation and, well you know, it's my mother…writing about…er…sex," he trailed off awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.
Monica chuckled, shaking her head. "You realise that's what you are here to do? Learn about sex? It's completely natural."
He smiled sheepishly as if suddenly remembering what he was doing here.
She chuckled again and grazed her forefinger across his temple, "You're so naïve, I almost don't want to change that about you. It's endearing."
Chandler suddenly found his confidence again and stepped up close to her, replacing his hands back onto her waist.
"But what if I don't want to be naïve anymore? What if I'm tired of being that guy?"
Monica swallowed again at his words.
She briefly wondered if they were doing the right thing. Whether she should be the one to teach him when they were, though neither had fully admitted it out loud, attracted to each other. A part of her was worried that this could go terribly wrong. That she wouldn't be able to detach herself from the act like she usually did because there was no way she could detach herself from him. Not from those smouldering blue eyes. But when he moved his hands around to her back, finding the drawstring of her skirt, her heart slamming against her ribcage, she knew there was no going back.
She felt the waist of the skirt become loose as Chandler pulled on the end of the bow before bringing his hands halfway down, clutching the smooth fabric and pulling it up so that it bunched into his hands. Monica lifted her arms above her head as he drew the skirt up and over her body, then added it to the bodice hanging on the back of the chair.
"And you are definitely sure want to do this?" She repeated, the words coming out in barely more than a whisper. She was starting to think she was more nervous than he was.
"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," he responded, now searching for the drawstring on her petticoat, proving his point.
"You know this isn't about me. This is about you," she reminded him as he removed the cotton fabric, which protected the overskirt, over and above her head.
"This is about both of us," he corrected, admiring her petite frame, bringing his hand up to the nape of her neck to gently pull on the small hairs not long enough to be pinned into her updo.
"But this lesson is about you learning…" Monica was slightly confused at this point.
"…Exactly?" Chandler was also confused. It seemed as though they were on totally different pages.
"So, if this is your lesson, how does this also make it about me?" She asked, attempting to figure out where this was going.
"Because I want to learn, and me learning means understanding how to give a woman pleasure. Therefore, this lesson is about your pleasure as much as mine."
Monica stood there, her hand that was stroking his upper arm freezing in shock.
"…you want to give me pleasure?"
"…is that not the point of me learning?" Chandler was beyond baffled at this point, apparently as much as she was.
"Well, typically, the purpose of a woman during sex is not for them to receive pleasure. We live in a patriarchal society, run by men who believe our only purpose is to produce children for them," Monica explained to him, picking some lint off the cuff of his suit coat.
Chandler scoffed, finding the drawstring of her bustle sitting just below her navel. He hooked his finger into it and suddenly pulled her against him as he leant into her ear. "Not this man," he whispered, slowly untying the knot to slip off the bustle from the base of her back, dropping it on the chair.
"You're so fascinating," Monica breathed as she began unbuttoning his rather heavy suit coat, the soft material brushing against her knuckles as they travelled downwards until she finally pushed it from off his body.
"That's new," he chuckled into her neck, pressing a gentle kiss there. "I've never been told that before."
"And I've never met a man who cares about my pleasure as much as his own before," Monica countered, her fingers now working on the buttons of his navy-blue waistcoat.
"Well then, I'm glad I can be your first," he smiled as he removed the final layer of her dress from her body, the crinoline, whilst she simultaneously removed his waistcoat.
Monica didn't always wear a crinoline, it depended on the dress she was wearing. Sometimes she would just wear the petticoat, but today she wore a dress that demanded both. Typical, because it was taking longer to undress, and she half wondered if he was getting bored with having to remove all the layers she was wearing.
"It amazes me that you women wear so many layers. Don't you get hot?" Chandler questioned, genuinely intrigued, and also amazed that they never seemed to complain. Not that he had ever heard them complain, anyway.
Monica snorted, trying her hardest not to grin as she tugged on his tie, the satin material silky against her hands.
"What's so funny?" he asked as he helped her remove the tie from his neck, adding it to the growing pile of clothes on the chair.
"I was wondering if you were beginning to get bored of removing all these layers, but then you immediately asked a question related to them. I just thought it was funny that our minds were both on the same subject," she laughed.
"And in answer to your question, no, not really. The material is lightweight, and the chemise is a type of cotton that is breathable. It easily absorbs sweat so that we don't overheat."
Chandler quirked an eyebrow, fascinated by this information. Despite what she said, he couldn't help but think that he would seriously overheat if he had to wear as much as a woman did.
"I could never get bored. In fact," he whispered, "turn around."
Monica felt her breath quicken at his demand but did so anyway, the mixture of nerves and excitement sitting in her stomach steadily increasing.
She suddenly felt the warmth of Chandler's hands on her bum through the cotton fabric, and her breath hitched.
"So beautiful," she heard him murmur, and she felt her eyes well up, amazed that someone could genuinely believe that. Usually, men never saw her as anything more than a dirty prostitute and a cheap fuck. And yet here was Chandler, a perfect gentleman, telling her the exact words she had always craved to hear.
He gave her the gentlest of squeezes, then moved his hands upwards to the centre of her corset where a bow sat.
He leant forward and murmured behind her ear, "So, I just pull the lacing loose with my fingers, tugging the loops outwards?" Chandler asked, worried about doing it wrong.
Monica licked her lips, his breath tickling the shell of her ear. She nodded her head, "Yes, you'll notice that the laces are crisscrossed to create 'X's. You need to untie the bow first, then begin tugging the 'X's out towards you to relieve the tension of the laces. You need to do it until the corset becomes slack enough for it to shift and move around my waist slightly."
Chandler touched the skin at the base of her neck, then slowly traced it downwards, over the rim of the corset until it reached the middle. He smiled when he saw her shiver, goosebumps breaking out across the top of her back. He gripped the ends of the bow and swiftly pulled it loose, the laces dropping downwards, resting against the base of the corset. He found the first 'X' and tugged it out enough so that he could easily move on to the next one. He repeated the manoeuvre, and Monica could feel the pressure alleviate from her torso. When he got to the last 'X', he bent his head forward and placed a soft kiss on her shoulder, and he heard her audibly gasp.
"I love these freckles," he kissed one, "they're so perfect," his lips found another one, "and beautiful." Monica quietly moaned as he continued to softly kiss the freckles scattered across her skin, finishing at the nape of her neck before finally tugging the last 'X' loose.
The corset gave way enough so that Monica could unhook the busk at the front, doing the top loop and pin first, then continuing from the bottom, working her way up until her torso became free of the stiff cage.
Together they pulled the corset from her body, and it landed somewhere on her desk.
Chandler spun her around so that she was facing him again. She smiled at him, running her hands down the front of his shirt, and pushed him until the backs of his knees hit the bed. He stumbled back on it slightly as he pulled her down with him, both of them falling backwards onto the mattress.
Their eyes locked, and Chandler could see the shadows from the candlelight dancing in the darkness of her pupils. He reached his hand up into her hair to find the pins and pulled them out, placing them on the side as her black ringlets fell down around her face, onto her shoulders and down the top of her back. He threaded his fingers into her tresses, his thumb stroking her temple, "I don't think I have ever felt so lucky," he whispered.
Monica shook her head, almost disbelievingly. "I'm a prostitute," her voice cracked, her voice thick with emotion.
He pressed his fingertips into her scalp almost firmly as if it was his way to force her to listen to his words. "I don't care. You are more than that to me. It doesn't define you."
Monica struggled to take his words in, and she dropped her head into his chest, hiding her face. She took a couple of deep breaths against his skin, willing herself not to cry. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she tried to accept that what he was saying could actually be true. When you have spent the last two years being ridiculed and looked down upon by society, it's difficult to not start believing them.
Unable to find the words to respond, she instead began slowly unbuttoning his shirt, marking his skin with a kiss every time a bit more was revealed. When she reached the final button, she pulled up the shirt, releasing it from his waistband and pushed it off his body, letting it drop to the floor. Monica grazed her nails down the centre of his chest, following the trail of hair down until it disappeared under his trousers.
Chandler groaned, the sting from her nails alighting his senses. She sat, straddling his legs, and ran her finger around the silver buckle of his belt, the metal cold against her skin. Before she could do anything else, however, Chandler sat up, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her back down with him so that they were pressed against each other. She let out a gasp of surprise when he suddenly rolled them over.
It was his turn to straddle her now, and he ran his hands down her still-covered sides, shuffling his body as he went, continuing down to her feet. He stood up at the foot of the bed and pried the laces on her boots loose, then swiftly pulled them off her feet, followed by removing his own along with his socks. He climbed back onto the bed, his thighs resting on either side of her again, and began fingering the waistband of her drawers.
"Nervous?" He asked as he held the drawstring between his thumb and forefinger.
Monica thought about it and realised that she actually wasn't. Somehow, despite hardly knowing him, she knew she could trust him. She knew she was safe with him. The nervousness that had claimed her earlier this evening had all but vanished.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head, the reflection of the flames from the still-burning candles flickering across her face, lighting it up.
"Are you?" She hit back softly.
"Yes," he answered immediately, but the smile on his face told her that even so, he still wanted to do this.
"You can trust me," she murmured, reaching up to stroke his chin.
"I know," he smiled as he finally pulled on the drawstring, the waistband giving way, allowing him to remove her drawers.
Monica felt the cool air against her, despite the area still being hidden beneath her chemise, and she shivered.
Chandler ran his hands up her stocking covered calves and stopped when he reached the backs of her knees, tickling her gently. She immediately giggled, the sensation making her skin tingle. Somehow, that simple move helped break some of the nervous energy that Chandler was feeling, and he felt himself relax marginally.
"Ticklish?" He grinned as his hand continued up her legs until they hit the bow garters tied around her thighs, which were holding the black stockings up.
"Just a bit," she laughed, her feet pressing into the mattress.
"You're like my very own Christmas present with all these bows to untie," he winked, causing a blush to spread across her cheeks.
He pulled on each bow simultaneously, and Monica felt the pressure around her thighs lessen as he removed the garters. Chandler dipped his forefinger into the rim of the stocking and ran it around the circumference of her thigh, making Monica grit her teeth. Considering he had zero experience, he sure knew how to tease someone.
Finally, he hooked the rest of his fingers into the rim and slowly began to roll the black woollen stocking down her leg, revealing the rest of her creamy skin which glowed in the moonlight pouring through the window.
The other stocking followed in quick succession, and Chandler swiftly removed his belt and trousers which were becoming uncomfortable, dropping them somewhere on the floor with a clang.
Monica briefly saw the tent in his underwear as he crawled back onto the bed, and the sight made a rush of heat pool between her legs. She never got turned on by clients, so the fact Chandler was making her feel like this was very surreal. She knew this 'appointment' was unlike any she'd had before, and that thought exhilarated her.
Chandler rubbed small circles with his thumbs on her smooth skin just beneath the hem of her white cotton chemise, and Monica, unsuccessfully, tried to bite back a moan.
Interesting, Chandler thought.
His fingers slowly crept under the edge of the chemise, his fingertips trailing along the warm surface of her skin, and he watched as her chest rose and fell steadily.
"You sure about this?" He asked for the final time, before any more of her body was uncovered.
"Yes. I want to be the one to teach you," she breathed, "plus, I can't let your two guineas go to waste," she grinned.
"Oh no, we can't have that!" He said dramatically, a teasing tone in his voice.
They both laughed until it hit them that the moment had come. This was it. Monica gave one last nod to Chandler, her eyes shining with an emotion he didn't quite recognise.
Trust?
His heart swelled at the thought, and with that, he finally pushed the garment up and off her body. Monica raised her arms above her head to help him, and it dropped onto the floor somewhere, immediately forgotten.
Chandler sat back on his haunches as his eyes wandered over a woman's naked body for the very first time. He swallowed hard and felt his groin tighten as he admired just how stunning she was. He peered up at her face and saw a vulnerability in her eyes that he couldn't resist, her cheeks a soft hue of red as she watched him observe her body. His eyes travelled to her collarbones, which were slightly more prominent than he imagined they should be, then continued down her breasts.
He thought back to the pocket guide when he had first read her description, 'a pair of tempting breasts that twenty blossoming springs have brought to full maturity.' It was the perfect description, as they were beautifully round and full, with two rosy-pink nipples that protruded in the middle like rosebuds.
However, he didn't linger his gaze on her breasts for too long, just long enough to wordlessly tell her how attractive she was. It was her eyes and her expressions that he wanted to watch. His hands could tell him the rest.
He was completely captivated by her, her body breathtaking under his gaze.
He briefly flitted his eyes to in between her thighs and noticed she had a small patch of dark hair there that was neatly trimmed. He returned to look at her face and noticed she was biting her lip, the red hue on her cheeks considerably darker.
Chandler leant down over her, his breath becoming heavy when he felt her nipples press against his bare chest. He brought up his hand and pried her lip from between her teeth with his thumb.
"Has anyone ever told you how mesmerising you are?" He whispered, looking deeply into her eyes.
Monica felt her bottom lip tremble at his words, and she swallowed back her tears, desperate to not cry in front of him.
Chandler knew from her reaction that the answer was no, and it made his heart clench painfully. To him, this woman deserved the world. He didn't care if this was only his second time meeting her. He knew, deep inside, that this woman was made for him.
He rested his forearm by the side of her head, using his other hand to twirl one of the ringlets, resting by the side of her face, around his finger.
"I think I am ready for my lesson," he murmured as he let go of the strand so that it could ping back up into its ringlet form.
Monica took a deep breath, forcing herself to remember what they were doing, that this was actually a lesson for him. She forced herself to focus, wanting to put all her energy into teaching him, and brought her hands up behind his back, resting them on his shoulder blades.
"You're trembling," she noticed as his body shook slightly against her hands.
Chandler chuckled softly, "I guess I am a little nervous," he admitted.
Monica wanted Chandler to feel as comfortable as possible and brought her left hand round to cup his cheek.
"Don't be," she whispered, "we're going to have fun, okay?" She smiled, attempting to reassure him. She didn't want this to be just a lesson. She wanted this to be an enjoyable experience for him.
She noticed that her words seemed to visibly calm him, and she felt his muscles relax in her palms.
He nodded, believing her. How could her not? He trusted every word she said.
"Okay then, Miss Geller, teach me. How exactly do I please a woman?"
Monica felt a bolt of excitement shoot through her at his words, because she knew they meant she was in control, something that she had always struggled with. It was one of the main reasons she chose this lifestyle – so that she could maintain some control in her life as everything else had managed to slip through her grasp.
She moved the hand that was cupping his cheek and stroked her finger down the bridge of his nose.
"Have you heard of erogenous zones?" She asked him, her finger continuing down his septum, over his lips and down his chin.
Chandler looked down at her blankly, and she had to stifle a giggle. There it was. That naivety again that she couldn't help but love about him.
"An erogenous zone is a sensitive area on a woman's body that creates sexual arousal when touched," she explained, her hand now returned to his shoulder blade.
"Okaayy," he drawled as if trying to make sense of her words. "So, these are important in giving a woman sexual pleasure?" He confirmed, his hand twirling another strand of her hair.
"Yes. A woman can be successfully pleasured when a man correctly teases these erogenous zones and by mixing them up. You want to keep her on her toes and activate her senses so that she yearns for your touch," she further explained, hoping she was making sense.
"And just how many of these zones are there?" He asked curiously.
"Well, every woman is different. Some may have more, some may have less. But on average, there are seven erogenous zones on a woman's body."
Chandler moved his head so that his lips pressed against her ear, "And what do you want me to do?" He whispered, his breath tickling her.
"Find them," Monica replied, her voice slightly higher than usual.
A rumble left his throat as he chuckled, "Well, that is number one."
"What?" She asked, trying to control her voice.
"Your ears. They are the first on the list," he stated as he pulled back.
"And what makes you say that?" She questioned, biting her lip to hide her grin.
"Because your voice changed pitch, and I felt you slightly arch your body into me when I whispered into it," he smirked, thrilled he had found one so quickly.
"Yeah, well, don't get too cocky. You still have six more to go," she teased, although she was secretly impressed. She didn't expect him to get her ears just yet. She wondered how long it would take him to find the others and secretly hoped it wouldn't be too fast because she wasn't ready for this to be over just yet.
Chandler just grinned, "It's a good job that I'm up for the challenge then," and he leant back down, this time to her other ear. "So, if this is a zone, I'm sure you won't mind if I do this," and he flicked his tongue out against her earlobe.
He couldn't keep the smile off his face as he heard her gasp. It amazed him that he was getting these sorts of reactions just from her ear. He never imaged a woman's ear could be so sensitive. He experimentally moved his lips downwards onto her neck, gently sucking and licking the skin there. Monica involuntarily tilted her head to the side, giving him more access as a low moan escaped her throat.
Bingo!
"Two," he mumbled against her pulse point. This was going better than expected.
"Uh-huh," Monica quietly agreed, unable to form any other words as Chandler sensually moved his lips across her skin until he reached her clavicle, giving it a gentle nip.
He pulled back and looked into her face, noticing that her eyes had become glazed over with what he could only assume was lust. She watched as his eyes travelled to her lips, and something suddenly clicked in his mind, as he realised, that of course, her lips were most likely an erogenous zone. He may not have much experience, but it was basic common sense. He knew that couples kissed all the time.
Chandler brought his hand to her face and grazed the pad of his thumb tenderly across her bottom lip, causing her eyes to flutter shut. He lowered his head to hers, and she felt his warm breath against her lips, causing her heart rate to speed up.
"Three," he rasped, their lips grazing each other, but just as he was about to press down into a searing kiss, she abruptly snapped her head away.
"No!" She panted heavily, the thumping of her heart echoing in her ears.
Chandler jumped, quickly withdrawing his head up and away from hers, her outburst catching him off guard.
"I'm sorry?" He timidly questioned, confused as to what he did wrong.
She squeezed her eyes shut for a few moments, then turned her head back to him, and looked up into his face. Her heart dropped at the look on his face, and she couldn't help but feel guilty.
"I- I'm sorry. I just…" she shook her head, "I can't do kissing. I just can't."
"Why not? I'm not pressuring you. If you say no, you say no. I just want to know why?"
"Because it's too intimate. Too involved. We need to remember why you are really here. You're paying me for a service, not for a relationship," she paused, "and because I'm scared of getting too attached. I know how this might end, and I can't put myself through that." A tear slipped from her cheek, and Chandler wiped it away.
"Shhhh, it's okay. I understand. You're scared that after all this I will leave you," he stated, already knowing the answer.
The second tear that cascaded down her face confirmed it.
"I can't promise what will happen. But what I do know is that I have never met anyone like you. I've never met someone who I've felt so in tune with. If you want to believe anything you can believe that. But I won't pressure you."
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Can I still kiss you in other places other than your lips?" He meekly questioned, and she smiled, touched that he was asking for permission. He was right because she had never met anyone like him either. Someone so sincere and so sweet.
She nodded her head against the pillow, "Yes."
Happy that she was okay with it, he bent down and kissed away the tear tracks on her cheek. He continued to place kisses down her chin, neck, and chest until he reached the top of her breasts.
He sat back up, his thighs still straddling her legs. She watched him as he brought his hands up to tentatively cup her breasts. He analysed her reactions carefully as she shuddered from his warm touch. He marvelled at their weight as they seemed to rest perfectly in his palms. He decided to experiment and gave them both a small squeeze causing a moan to fall out of Monica's mouth, her eyes shut. He reached his thumbs up to brush over her nipples and was surprised at how hard they felt.
Chandler cleared his throat, almost too embarrassed to ask, but did anyway "Are they always this hard?"
Monica cracked an eye open and tried not to laugh at the pure wonder on his face, "No, they become erect when they are stimulated, and the woman is aroused."
He quirked an eyebrow at this information and decided to tug on her right nipple gently, causing her to cry out in surprise. He loved how responsive she was to his touch.
"Definitely number four," he grinned.
Monica just chuckled in response before casually suggesting, "Try your mouth."
Chandler stopped what he was doing, the smooth skin of her breasts rubbing against the sides of his hands as his fingers relaxed on her nipples.
"What?" He responded, caught off guard.
"Try using your mouth if you want to give the woman extra stimulation," she advised.
"Y-you mean, put your nipple in my mouth?"
"Exactly," she hummed, her eyes still closed.
Chandler pondered for a second, then figured he had nothing to lose, so he bent forward and captured one in his mouth, his lips wrapping around it. He tried swirling his tongue around it first and was amazed at how stiff it felt, almost like a small pebble, he observed. Monica immediately responded by arching her chest into his mouth, surprising him, but he soon reacted by opening his mouth wider to suck more into his mouth, finding that her nipple and the surrounding flesh was warm.
Realising he enjoyed watching her strong reactions from having his mouth on her breasts, he moved to the other one to give it the same attention, resulting in a multitude of moans falling from her lips. He mentally noted that her breasts were extremely responsive as he released her nipple with a pop, her chest heaving slightly as she panted.
Chandler sat back, admiring how his saliva glistened on her skin. He traced his fingers on the skin under her breasts and dragged them downwards, stopping to dip his forefinger momentarily into her belly button, making her giggle, until he reached the area in between her thighs. Monica shivered when he unexpectedly glided his fingers through her small patch of curls and involuntarily opened her legs more, inviting him in.
He shuffled down the bed more and rested his hands on her knees and tickled behind them again, making her legs jerk.
"Chandlerrrr," she giggled, her legs now spread more thanks to her jerking them outwards, away from his hands.
He gazed at the view in front of him and noticed a sheen of wetness on her skin. Intrigued and wanting to learn more, he began inching her hands up her thighs but stopped when Monica drew a sharp intake of breath when he got closer.
That's interesting, he thought.
He applied a firm pressure to her inner thighs, and she groaned, her hips thrusting upwards slightly.
"Your thighs?" He exclaimed, and this time Monica laughed out loud at the surprise in his voice.
"Uh-huh. Inner thighs specifically," she confirmed as she opened her eyes to see the wonder on his face, making her grin.
"So, that's number five?" He clarified, still processing this information. He wasn't sure why this specific erogenous zone surprised him, but it did.
Monica nodded, captivated by his genuine disbelief. He really was the most endearing person she had ever met.
"Huh. Well, okay then. Seems I am getting closer to the end of this treasure hunt," he grinned, causing Monica to playfully roll her eyes.
He once again ran his hands up her thighs until he finally reached the apex between them. Monica kept her eyes on him as he brought a finger up and gently stroked it down her centre, causing her to instantly buck her hips.
"Oh god," she breathed, burying her head back into the pillow.
He did it again, this time pushing through her folds, his eyebrows shooting up when he hit a small bump near the top that made her almost hurl him off the bed.
"What's that?" He asked, fascinated by her very strong reaction, as he pressed down on it.
"CHANDLER!" She squealed, her hips thrusting upwards sharply.
He moved his fingers away, gliding them back down as her wetness collected on them.
"It's the clitoris, or clit for short, and it's the most sensitive part on a woman's body," she finally explained, panting slightly.
"So, in other words, number six?" He asked as he continued to softly stroke her.
"Actually, I refer to that as number seven," she hummed as her hips undulated against his touch.
"Oh. What is number six then?" He questioned, completely confused, trying to figure what he had missed.
"Her behind," she told him breathlessly, his fingers still playing with her.
"Behind what?"
Monica sighed, "Her ass."
"Yeah, I knew what you meant. I just wanted you to say it," he grinned, and Monica just rolled her eyes, though she couldn't help but smile.
She had never been with someone who could make her so aroused but also make her laugh during sex. It was different, but a good different.
"Okay. I have another question. Is it normal that you…feel wet?"
She chuckled, not expecting him to ask that. His knowledge was so sheltered in regards to sex.
"Yes, it's a self-lubricant to prepare the body for penetration by either a finger or a man's–"
She cut herself off as Chandler suddenly inserted a finger into her, "Like this?" He smirked.
"Oh, my God!" She cried, not ready to be unexpectedly stretched by him.
At first, he slowly pumped it in and out, her walls snug and warm around his finger, but when her breathing became more laboured, he added a second finger to see what the effect would be. Monica let out a half sob at the sensation as he steadily built up a rhythm, increasingly thrusting faster and faster as he began to curl his fingers.
Monica bit down hard on her lip to keep any more sound from coming out. It wasn't like this was the first time she'd ever been fingered, but there was something about the way Chandler curled his fingers every time he thrust them back into her that made her breath hitch in her throat. She began shifting her hips off the bed as she felt a warm tingling she had never felt before in the pit of her stomach.
Most of the time, her clients only fingered her to warm her up, ensuring she was wet enough for them to easily penetrate her, but they had always removed their fingers before she was able to achieve any sexual gratification from it.
Her toes suddenly curled as Chandler hit a never-discovered-before spot, causing her head to spin. She felt a sudden overwhelming urge to pee, a slight pressure building up in her abdomen, and she began to sit up in a panic, the sensation unfamiliar. But before she could voice her concern to Chandler, spots unexpectedly danced in front of her as something deep inside her snapped and broke into a million pieces. Her torso fell back down onto the mattress, and she let out a sharp cry, her body trembling in pleasure as she felt a powerful release surge through her.
Her sudden cry made Chandler jump, and he immediately stopped thrusting his fingers, instead holding them inside her in shock, not moving. He could feel her walls clenching tightly around his fingers as her body continued to shake until finally, she fell limply against the bed.
"Ar- are you okay? What was that?" Chandler asked, a mixture of concern and amazement in his voice.
Monica's voice was shaky as she regulated her breath before responding.
"I- I think it was an orgasm. I've heard of them, but in the two years I've been doing this, I've never had one. I think you've just given me my first one."
Chandler couldn't help but smile, not because he was the one to give her her first orgasm (though that did make him happy), but because he was glad that she finally got to experience proper sexual gratification.
He leant down and pressed a kiss above her navel, her body still juddering every now and then from aftershocks. He sensually moved his lips over her skin, going up her middle and through the valley of her breasts, before placing a final kiss on her forehead.
Her eyes fluttered open, blue eyes gazing into blue, and she could have sworn she felt her heart burst. She felt him against her thigh and realised that he had received absolutely no pleasure yet, so she wrapped her arms around his torso and with all the strength she could muster, rolled them over so that she was on top.
She pressed a single kiss to his chest before bending over the side of the bed to pull out her chamber pot from underneath.
"What are you doing?" He asked, drawing nonsensical designs on her arms as she sat back up, hovering over him.
"Returning the favour," she breathed against his skin, gently biting it as she made her way downwards towards his waistband.
Chandler gripped her shoulder in an attempt to stop her, "Wait, wait, wait," she looked up when she was just above his belly button, "I don't want to have sex tonight. I don't want to do it all in one night. If we do, I'll have no excuse to come back for more lessons."
"Who said anything about sex?" She winked before pulling the drawstring of his underwear, loosening the waistband so that she could pull them down, his erection springing out.
It was very rare Monica gave her client's blow jobs. She would mainly do it only if she was desperate for money and was being paid extra. But there was something different about Chandler. She trusted him completely, and he deserved this wholeheartedly.
She closed her hand around him, his flesh warm against her palm, and Chandler let out a low groan. She lowered her head and placed the flat of her tongue on the base of his shaft before slowly dragging it upwards, feeling the veins and ridges against her tongue. Chandler's chest constricted when she reached the head, and she placed a delicate kiss on it, a soft cry escaping his lips. She suddenly swirled her tongue around the rim of the head before stretching her lips as she took him into her mouth.
"Oh, God!" He choked out, the feeling of her warm, wet mouth surrounding him completely indescribable.
She moved her hand up and down the shaft where her mouth couldn't reach as she sucked him, dragging her lips up and down sultrily. Chandler fisted his hands into the sheets, watching as he continuously disappeared into her mouth. He thought he had never seen a sight more beautiful. Her pale cheeks were tinged pink, her red lips were gliding up and down on him and her ringlets were hanging down around her face, tickling his groin.
Chandler felt the muscles in his lower stomach clench, and he knew what was about to happen. He tried to lean forward, touching her arm to warn her.
"I-" he cried, his voice strangled as he suddenly erupted into her mouth.
Monica felt him come against her tongue and waited until he finished, releasing him from her mouth so she could lean over the bed to spit his bodily fluids into her chamber pot before finally falling forward to collapse onto his chest.
They both tried to regain their breaths, and Chandler rolled her off him so he could pull her tight against his body.
"That was incredible," he finally whispered, tracing his thumb across her lip once more, her cheeks still flushed.
"I couldn't let you go without you getting your two guineas worth," she smiled, wrapping her arms around him.
"Oh, being with you is worth more than two guineas. In fact, it's priceless," he mumbled against her forehead.
Monica wasn't sure how much longer she could stand hearing his words. She could feel herself falling further and further for him. And the more she did, the more she panicked. This was never meant to happen. And yet, she didn't want to do anything to stop it either.
They both lay there for a while, relishing in each other's warm embrace. Just as she felt her eyes drifting shut, she heard him whispering something.
"I've thought of a gift you can give me."
Monica craned her head up to look at him, his blue eyes as piercing as they were the first time she saw them.
"Oh yeah?" She questioned sleepily.
He swallowed, wondering whether or not his question would finally be answered.
"Your name."
Monica chuckled and pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat. She wasn't sure what gift he'd suggest, but she thought it was sweet he wanted to know. Usually, her clients didn't care, so she never felt the need to reveal it. Plus, it was a way for her to shield her identity, almost allowing her to separate her life into two parts. The prostitute and the orphan.
"It's Monica," she finally whispered, and he looked down at her in awe.
Monica. Monica.
Chandler didn't think he had ever heard a name more beautiful.
He pulled her chin upwards so that she was looking at him, "Merry Christmas," he paused, "Monica Geller," and she broke out into a smile, her eyes shining.
Merry Christmas indeed.