"Chandler, I promise you won't hurt the baby."

I look over at Monica and raise an eyebrow. She's kneeling next to me on the bed, wearing nothing but her underwear. Fancy underwear; lacy and silky and a tiny bit slutty. I shiver and look away.

"I just don't feel comfortable with it, Mon."

"Dr. Rosen said it's perfectly fine if we have sex. As long as it's not uncomfortable for me, it's good."

"I know what she said. I just…" I don't know how to explain it to her. I love my wife and I want her desperately, but ever since we found out that she's pregnant, I've been almost scared to touch her too much. Logically, I know that whole thing about women being in a "delicate condition" is a load of crap. I know that pregnant women do a lot of the same things that non-pregnant women do, sex included. But this baby is such a miracle, such a surprise, that I don't want to do anything to jeopardize it.

"Do you think you're going to poke the baby in the head or something?" I cringe at the mental image, even though I know it's not possible. "Because, honey, I love you and your penis, but it's not that big."

"I don't know if insulting my penis is the best way to get me to put out."

"I'm just saying that it's not getting into my uterus."

"Okay, but what if all that…motion jars the baby loose?"

She rolls her eyes but shifts a little closer to me, angling her body so that I have a great view of her cleavage. I catch a whiff of her perfume or lotion or whatever it is that always makes her smell so fantastic and feel my body react to her. Her fingers dance across my stomach, my muscles twitching beneath her hand. "Chandler, we've had sex while I was pregnant."

"But not since we found out about it."

"I'm aware. But I seem to recall us having quite a few rounds of pretty vigorous sex. Just, what? Two days before I took the pregnancy tests, we had sex that was downright nasty."

"I don't know that I'd call it 'nasty,'" I argue, even though my memory of that particular occasion says otherwise.

"Really?" Her hand casually slides under my t-shirt and slowly inches its way up chest. "I think being bent over the kitchen counter while I was in the middle of making dinner is kind of nasty. Especially since I was in the middle of making food to send to my brother. And all the lights were on and the curtains were open and it's likely that we had an audience."

"Well, you've just been so responsive lately, I thought I could get away with it."

"Hey, I'm not complaining. I've been hornier than hell. I guess I have the excess hormones to thank for that."

"Yeah, I thought all that part was supposed to kick in during the second trimester."

"Every woman's different, Chandler. Apparently, pregnancy makes me randy. And if you thought it was bad then..." Her voice drifts off as she presses her lips to mine. My hands slide up into her hair and I get lost in my wife for a few moments.

I pull away reluctantly, still not convinced. "Monica, seriously; I know all the research and the studies and what the doctor said, but when it comes down to it, you're still technically a high-risk pregnancy. What if…" I can't even finish that thought.

She sighs in frustration but scoots closer to me. "What about what your wife is saying? Do you really think that I'd do anything to hurt the baby? Do you think that I'd be willing do this if I thought for one second that it was a bad idea?"

She does have a point. "I guess not."

"Honey, I love you. You're the only guy I've slept with since 1998. More to the point, you're the only guy I've wanted to sleep with since then. You know that you're the best sex I've ever had, and that no one has been able to hold a candle to you. But if you don't put out soon, I'm going to have to consider having an affair."

I start, staring at her. "Please tell me you're kidding."

"I really, really want to have sex with you. I know for a fact that you are the only one who can scratch this particular itch. But I'm so antsy right now that I feel like I could literally hump a tree. I actually need to have sex. I need to have it with you. In all honesty, it probably won't take me long, either. Your job will probably be over pretty quickly."

"Well, can't I just do some other stuff to you? I know more than one way to make you orgasm."

She shakes her head, her lips suddenly at my ear, her teeth nipping the lobe. "Nope. I need to have an orgasm from actual sex. Look, I didn't say any of this made sense. I'm just telling you what my body is telling me. I need to feel you inside of me."

My entire body shudders, and my libido is trying like hell to take over, my reasoning for holding her off seeming weaker and weaker. "Monica, I don't want to hurt you."

She rolls away from me, frustrated. "Chandler, you could never, ever hurt me." I see her eyes get shiny with tears and I mentally beat myself up; the last thing I want to do is upset her, and I doubt I can completely chalk this mood swing up to hormones. "I don't know how much longer I'm going to feel attractive. My stomach is going to grow, my feet and ankles are going to swell, and who knows what else. Right now though, I feel incredibly sexy." There's no denying that there's something different about her now. The changes are subtle right now, and someone who hasn't dedicated his life to knowing each and every inch of her body might not notice, but I can see them. Her hips are curvier, her breasts are a little fuller, there's a very slight rounding to her stomach, and I'll be damned if she isn't actually glowing. It's like there's some sort of light that's been turned on inside of her and it's radiating out from her soul. Altogether, she's becoming more attractive by the day.

I roll over to face her, caressing her cheek. "Mon, you will never be anything less than beautiful to me."

"Then why don't you want me?" she whispers.

I slide closer to her, kissing her gently. "I always want you." My erection pressing into her insistently should be proof enough of that.

"Please make love to me."

And I'm lost; I can't deny her something so simple, so basic, something that I've given her willingly and gladly for years. I pull her into my arms and kiss her senselessly as she groans into my mouth. My fingertips slide across her hip and she shivers beneath me, pressing her body against mine, draping her leg over mine. She's insanely responsive right now.

I give her a nudge, pressing her into the mattress for a few moments before my brain snaps to attention and I pull away from her. "I don't know if I should…I mean…."

Fortunately, she seems to understand my dilemma and pushes me onto my back. "I'll be on top," she breathes, crawling onto me, fusing her lips to mine once more.

My hands slide up her back, fumbling with the clasp of her bra for a moment before it pops open. She shifts her arms so it slides off of her, flinging it over her shoulder. I gently trace a fingertip down one of her breasts. "How do they feel?"

She shudders at the contact. "Sensitive," she gasps. "Wonderfully sensitive."

I flick at her nipple with my tongue. "Let me know if it's too much." I carefully take her into my mouth, and she lets out a high-pitched moan, grinding her hips into me. Encouraged, I suckle harder and she gasps, arching her back into my face. Her hips start rocking against me furiously, and I can't help but be amazed at how turned on she is right now, how fast she got there. I'm still fully clothed and I'm pretty sure she's on the brink.

All of a sudden she whimpers, moving against me erratically, her fingers digging into my shoulders, gasping into my ear. "Oh, my God," she moans, still pushing against me.

I kiss my way across her chest, tasting the perspiration that's already there. "I thought you needed actual sex," I tease.

"Apparently I needed that first," she groans, her head dropping to my shoulder as she collects herself.

"Should I bother to take my clothes off, or—" I'm interrupted by Monica suddenly grasping the bottom of my shirt and yanking it over my head. I sit up and clutch her to me, her hands pulling my face to hers, kissing me deeply.

"Pants?" I mumble around her mouth and she groans in frustration, her hips rocking slowly against mine once more. Finally she slides off of me, standing next to the bed as she pulls down her underwear, kicking it off somewhere behind her.

"Hurry," she says frantically as I pull my pajama pants off, taking care not to injure myself in the process. She finishes the job by yanking them off my ankles and tossing them somewhere in the vicinity of the rest of our clothes. I realize this is the first time I've really seen her naked since we found out about the baby and I'm completely stunned, though I can't exactly put my finger on what it is. Maybe it's all in my head, but I could swear that she is literally glowing right now, that there's a light coming off of her that just radiates "happy."

A moment later, she climbs back on top of me, impaling herself on me, her head thrown back as she lets out a loud, "Ahhhhhhhhh." Somehow, this feels different, too, though I don't know exactly why; it feels phenomenal. She starts moving against me frantically and I grab her hips, stilling her motions.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. We don't have to rush it."

Her eyes fly open, the expression on her face bordering on desperate. "I don't know if I have the ability to take my time right now." She clenches herself around me and I gasp. The combination of having gone a few weeks without sex and my incredibly hot wife being even hotter now that she's pregnant is almost more than I can take. I flop back against the pillows, groaning.

"Let me do the work," she says, and I look at her curiously. A wonderfully lascivious smile spreads across her face and she grinds herself against me. My hands come to rest on her thighs, stroking her soft skin gently.

Her hands slide across mine as she moves against me a little faster and I breathe deeply, trying to control myself.

I watch as her hands move gently across her stomach, sliding up to her breasts, cupping herself. She squeezes her breasts fiercely and I can't help but groan, unbelievably turned on by what she's doing to herself. One hand slides up into her hair, the other moving up her chest slowly, dragging across her neck, and she gasps under her own ministrations. I stare at her, fascinated; how I'm able to maintain any semblance of control is beyond me at this point.

One of her hands braces on my thigh, the other coming back to play with her breasts, and she starts to slide up and down me faster. Her head falls back, her mouth dropping open, happy noises echoing throughout the room.

Unable to control myself, I thrust my hips up into her and she gasps. I do it again and watch a smile spread across her face. "Oh, yeah."

"Good?" I ask as I bend my knees a little, bracing my feet on the bed, giving myself better leverage.

"So very good," she moans as I shift deeper into her, her hips picking up the pace.

"Can I help now?" I love watching her—I always have. Seeing her naked, writhing in pleasure on top of me, moaning and gasping has always been incredible. But I like to be hands on, too. Participating is always much more fun than being a spectator.

"Get in here," she gasps, and my hands immediately fly into action, sliding up her sides, down her arms, across her stomach, landing on her breasts, squeezing gently at first, but then with a bit more pressure. She gasps and moans, seemingly enjoying what my hands are doing to her, her hips moving against me forcefully.

"Oh, Chandler," she whimpers. "Oh, God, YES."

My hands slide to her back and I tug at her gently, trying to pull her to me. She falls against my chest, her arms snaking around me, and I pull her lips to mine. I dig my fingers into her hips, encouraging her movements, speeding her up, my own hips slamming into hers as quickly as possible. Her knees dig into my sides, gripping me as we push and pull at each other.

She tears her lips away from me, gasping, and presses her forehead into my chest, her back arching up. I feel her arms unravel from around me, her fingertips digging into my biceps, and I moan at the sensation.

"Oh, God," she whimpers. "Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God, ohmyGod ohmyGod ohmyGod." Her voice gets louder with every syllable. Her hips move against me, the pace increasing to an impossible speed.

Out of nowhere, a scream like I've never heard rips out of her throat, her hands holding my arms down into the mattress as her body suddenly arches into mine, throwing her head back. She slams against me as what may be the most intense orgasm ever hits her. I'm so surprised by it that I pause for a few moments, watching it happen, completely entranced with her. I feel her clench around me and my body takes over, only needing a few more thrusts before I'm shuddering beneath her, grabbing at her frantically, trying to pull her closer, driving into her as I empty myself into her.

Her arms start to shake and she collapses on top of me, moaning into my ear as she gasps for breath.

"Question," I pant, and she makes a noise against me, letting me know she's listening. "If you had to choose between food and sex, which would you give up?"

"Food," she moans, her voice sounding hoarse. "I'll never eat again if we can always have sex."

I wrap my arms around her, feeling smug. A year ago, she answered that question with "sex" without hesitation. Maybe it's her rampaging hormones talking now, but it's still nice to hear it.

Although, we've had a good deal of success with mixing food and sex over the years, so I'm sure we can figure out a way to keep both.

"God, that was amaaaaaazing," she groans, lifting her head to look at me, a satisfied smile spreading across her face.

"Sorry I tried so hard to hold you off," I answer, running a finger up and down her spine.

"Totally worth the wait." She leans up and kisses me briefly. "Wanna go again?"

I'm fairly certain my eyes bug out of my head. "Uh, Mon…"

"I'm just teasing you, Chandler." She rests her head against my chest, snuggling into me. "Take some time to recover. I'll even let you have ten minutes."

"Holy hell, woman; are you trying to kill me?"

"You won't be ready for another round?" she asks, wiggling her hips against me, and I'll be damned if I don't feel myself start to recover.

"Is this what sex with you is going to be like for the next few months?"

"Mmmmmm, possibly. Probably. I mean, I feel satisfied but no less horny, so you do the math."

In my mind, I'm all for it; I just hope my body can keep up. "I'm gonna need to invest in Viagra."

She chuckles for a moment before she stops and looks up at me. "Maybe we could do that."

"Monica, I was kidding. I'm sure I'll find some regular way to keep up with you."

She shrugs, causing her breasts to slide up and down my chest appealingly. "It's always an option." Her lips attach themselves to my neck, her teeth biting at the delicate flesh. "So…what do I have to do to get you up and running again?"

I shiver a little. "I'm suddenly very, very glad that your parents are watching the kids for the day."

She looks at me and laughs. "Oh, God, yeah. They're way too impressionable to have been around for that one. I just hope the baby's ears haven't developed yet."

My fingers slide in between us to stroke her stomach. "This poor little peanut. It needs tiny little headphones to block out all the noise."

"Can you imagine that sonogram picture? 'Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Bing; your baby looks nice and healthy, growing properly—is that a Walkman?!'"

"Our baby could be cutting edge."

"Cutting edge fetus or not, I don't think my body is capable of producing tiny electronics."

"But imagine if you could. College for the three of them would be paid for."

"Damn my body and its ability to only create life."

That brings me back to the present. "I think being able to create life is more than enough."

She smiles at me happily and we kiss each other tenderly. "Yeah, that's probably enough," she agrees.