I laugh happily into my husband's mouth, moaning a little as he thrusts into me gently.
"Shh," he whispers, his body coming to a stop. "Your parents might hear us."
"Chandler," I whine, trying to push myself against him.
"Seriously—aren't they right next door?" he whispers again; I lean up to kiss him, and he doesn't fight me on it.
"Wasn't sex your idea?" I counter, clenching my inner muscles around him, and he buries his face in my neck to muffle his groan.
"I don't recall it being specifically my idea," he says, his voice tight. "But if we're going to do this, we have to keep it down."
I've gotten much better about keeping my voice down during sex—with three little kids at home, I can't always be as vocal as I'd like, but it's a price I'm willing to pay.
He does have a point, though—my parents are, in fact, in the next room, though the beds don't share a wall. I certainly don't want them to overhear me having sex, but…I'd really like to have sex.
"They're sleeping," I say quietly. "And they're getting older—I'm sure their hearing isn't what it used to be. Ross and Rachel are asleep; all of the kids are asleep…I'll be good, I promise." I slide my hands down his back, giving his ass a little squeeze, trying to encourage him to move.
He thrusts into me slowly and my head drops back against the pillow, sighing happily at the contact.
"Ohhhh, yeah."
"Shhhh!" He stops moving again, and I think I might explode.
"Chandler, it's not like we're a couple of horny teenagers. We're married. We're allowed to do this; some cultures even encourage it. I just need you so bad."
He leans down and kisses me for a moment. "Do you really want your parents to hear your sex noises?"
"No, but…haven't you always kind of wanted to do this?"
"Do what?"
"Have sex under your parents' noses, terrified that they'd catch you? Didn't you have that fantasy when you were in high school?"
"I guess I never thought about it; my parents weren't really homebodies, so I could've brought a girl home and no one would have known."
"Well, I never even got to covertly make out with a boyfriend when I was in high school, so please put out."
He snorts a little and gives my thigh a gentle tap. "Get on top. The bed might make less noise."
I sigh, but nod anyway. He pulls out of me and I whimper, my body already getting cold from the absence of his weight.
We just got to the beach a few hours ago after too many hours in a car fighting holiday traffic. The kids were cranky from being cooped up for so long; the heat didn't make things better. Chandler and I were starting to get irritable toward each other for no reason—should have left earlier, should have left later, let's pull over and rest, let's keep going—which in turn made our kids crankier.
Just the way any family vacation is supposed to start.
But the moment we got to the beach house, everything felt better. We let Jack and Erica run around to burn off their excess energy with William toddling after them, only able to take a few steps at a time before stumbling and dropping to the ground.
Of course, the fact that he can pretty much walk now is killing me.
Everyone's settled in now, though—the twins falling fast asleep not long after dinner, William following soon after. For what may be the only time for the next few days, I'm alone with my husband, and we haven't had a chance to have vacation sex in a long time. The first year we came out here, we were barely functioning—Jack and Erica were still brand new and both of us were just trying to survive. Last year I was about a thousand weeks pregnant and, again, too tired for sex. And since this is the closest we've had to an actual vacation in the last couple of years, I'd say vacation sex is long overdue.
If that means someone overhears a little bit of thumping and creaking bedsprings, so be it.
I pull myself up to my knees and he grabs my waist as I straddle his thighs; I lift my eyebrow as he remains in a seated position.
"Hey—you might need me to keep you quiet."
I'd be insulted if it weren't the absolute truth. I wrap my arms around him and kiss him, pulling my body tight against his, his erection trapped between us. He groans into my mouth and I smirk; torturing him can be fun, especially since I've already been "shushed" twice.
I love that I can still do this to him, that we can do this to each other. Eight years together and he can still drive me crazy with desire, and I can do it to him, too. At one point before we got married, I freaked about never having any beginnings again—no first kisses, no falling in love again, never having sex with anyone else. It didn't take me long to realize how stupid that was, though. What I have with Chandler is so great; it's always been great. Even when we were just friends it was pretty amazing. I mean, yes—there is a rush when you first meet someone you're attracted to and you start falling for them, but what I never realized would happen is that I fall in love Chandler every day. Sometimes it's just more than the day before, but sometimes it feels like it's from the beginning. It's awesome.
Truthfully, how often is sex with someone new great? In my experience, it was pretty much just that one time. That's not to say that all previous experiences were bad, but compared to my husband…they definitely lacked something. Even Richard—even though I was wildly attracted to him at the time, the first time we had sex was still awkward; we were both aware of our age gap and that he'd known me since I was a child. Sex with Chandler is always wonderful. It's comfortable, but not boring and it's still exciting. We have a good time; we can laugh when something stupid happens which is so not true with someone new. He knows my body better than I do.
And kissing him…ultimately, I don't think any other first kiss could compare to our first kiss, or any of the kisses that followed. He's perfect for me; eight years later and he's still perfect for me. There's no one else I'd want to spend eternity with because no one could ever make me feel this happy. We have rough patches at times, but those are few and far between—when it comes down to it, he just makes me happy. I love what we have and wouldn't trade it for all the "new" feelings in the world.
Still being stupidly, crazily in love with someone after all this time is better than anything.
I tighten my legs around him, rubbing myself against him. His fingers dig into my hips and I grin. He thrusts up against me a fraction and I bite back a groan; I'm just torturing us both this way. I reach in between us and grasp him firmly, pumping my hand up and down him. He hisses in pleasure and ducks his head down, capturing my breast in his mouth—since William's mostly down with breastfeeding, Chandler's been able to get back to his regularly scheduled program, much to the relief of both of us.
I arch my back away from him, shaking my head. His eyes grow wide, looking confused and insanely turned on at the same time, his mouth opening and closing as he tries to form a sentence.
"If you're going to 'shush' me, you can't play with the funbags," I whisper, tightening my grip on him a fraction.
"That's not fair," he whimpers, stroking my thighs. "I just got them back and now I can't have them?"
"Tit for tat," I remind him, putting him into position and sliding down, my head falling back as I bite my lip, trying to keep quiet. I lift my hips slowly, pushing back down onto him. I grab onto his arms as I lean farther back, my head hitting the mattress as I push into him.
I feel his hands slide up my body, caressing me gently, his fingers running gently over my nipples; I don't stop him. I hear him whimper and open my eyes, looking up at him.
"You're so hot," he whispers. I smile at him as breathing starts to grow labored, reaching out to stroke his stomach. I feel his muscles quiver under my touch and I push myself against him harder. His fingers spread across my breasts, squeezing me firmly. I turn my head, trying to bury my face in the sheets, biting my lip to keep myself quiet.
He starts thrusting against me urgently and my hands fly over my head as I clutch at the bedding, gripping it tightly. I bite my arm, trying my best to muffle the moans I can't completely suppress.
I dig my knees into his sides, holding on as tightly as I can; the faster he goes, the less control I have, the less I can contribute. All I can do is hold on while he pounds into me.
It feels magnificent.
One of his hands slides roughly down my stomach, his fingers curling against me and my hips jerk up, coming off him completely. His fingers instantly slide into me, pumping vigorously. I feel my toes curl, my legs tensing as his hands work their magic on me.
"Ohhhhhhh."
"Mon," he whispers, his breathing labored.
"I can't help it," I tell him as quietly as I can. "Stop being so good at this."
His hand speeds up; I can tell I've just managed to boost his ego ten-fold.
Yeah; the sex is still pretty damn good.
I reach out blindly, my hand finding his erection by instinct. He moans softly as I slide my hand over him, gently toying with the tip.
We probably don't have time for this sort of thing; one of the kids could wake up at any time and get freaked out by the unfamiliar surroundings.
It just feels so good.
His fingers slide out of me and he wraps his arms around me, dragging my body up to his. I grab onto him, locking my arms tightly around him, and I feel him push into me once more. He pumps into me quickly, also conscious of our time constraints.
For some reason, knowing that we have so many things against us right now, so many possible interruptions, makes all of this even hotter.
Chandler and I have always been a bit on the kinky side. This probably stems from spending so many months in hiding at the beginning of our relationship, always just on the verge of being caught.
We work well under pressure.
I dig my fingernails into his back, biting the crook of his neck to keep myself from screaming.
I pound my hips against his, my body tingling, and I vaguely notice that he's right—the bed definitely makes less noise this way.
"Sorry I was crabby on the way out here today," he pants into my ear, his fingers digging into my ass, pulling me into him faster and faster.
I squeak into his neck, not trusting my own voice right now.
I feel his lips press against my shoulder, his teeth grazing my skin, and shockwaves run through my system.
I whimper, moving my hips faster, trying to press myself closer.
His lips trail across my clavicle and over to my throat. He shifts his torso away from mine and bends down, capturing a breast in his mouth. My head falls back as my mouth drops open.
"I hate you," I whisper as my hands go to the back of his neck, holding his head in place.
"I know," he mumbles, and I feel his tongue move lazily over my nipple.
"You're such a bastard." I clench my teeth, grunting as quietly as I can; my entire body is vibrating from the effort of keeping quiet.
"I know that, too." He sucks at me and I gasp, my body completely on the verge. I move against him furiously, grinding against him, my pelvis moving in quick, hard circles.
"Oh, God, Chandler," I whisper. "Oh, yes. Oh, my God, oh God, oh God." I can hear my voice getting louder, but I can do nothing to stop it. "Oh, yes, baby, ohhhhh—" I'm cut off my his lips on mine suddenly and I wail into his mouth as I rub myself against him frantically. I clutch him to me as my orgasm floods through me; I feel him smile against my lips as my body quakes. A few seconds later, though, he's gripping onto my hips for dear life, his smile fading as he gasps for air, and I feel his body tense as he releases into me, thrusting into me sloppily a few more times before his body goes slack. I can feel him trembling beneath my fingertips.
Being a parent helps you become a master of the quickie.
Well, sort of quick.
But really damn powerful.
I stroke his hair as he presses his cheek against my shoulder, my hips still moving against him slowly, and part of me can't help but wish that one of these times we could manage to make another baby.
It's insane—we have three tiny little kids and they're all amazing, beautiful little people. I love them more than I ever could have imagined, and if all we ever have are these three, then I'll still be the luckiest woman ever. And we certainly don't need another baby right now. Still…one day…
I wouldn't mind being pregnant again someday.
I know it's a long shot, and I definitely don't have my hopes up, especially not any time soon, but…I'd be happy with it.
Chandler would, too.
Of course, seeing a very pregnant Rachel today probably isn't helping with this. Baby fever is a very real thing.
I kiss the back of his neck and he sighs, his arms wrapping around me. What we have is more than enough, and maybe more than we ever expected. We're incredibly lucky to have three wonderful, healthy children. I don't feel at all like we're missing anything or anyone.
Still…
I'm startled out of my post-coital haze by Jack's crying blaring through the baby monitor. I jump off Chandler's lap and grab my robe, running out the door as I hear his distressed voice calling, "Mama!" I hurry into their room across the hall, grabbing Jack out of his crib, his little arms already reaching for me.
"Mama," he whimpers, and I stroke his hair, gently bouncing him back and forth. I look in on Erica and William—with there being so many of us jammed into one house for the holiday, our three are sharing a room. It's not that bad of a situation, especially since William's been sleeping through most of the night and the chances of his fussing waking the twins is much smaller now.
Fortunately, the other two are still asleep.
I kiss the side of Jack's head, swaying him back and forth, his tears subsiding even as he whimpers into my shoulder. "It's okay, buddy. It's okay. Mama's here. Did you get scared?" He nods, and my heart hurts—I hate that "scared" is a word he knows. "Everything's okay. I won't ever let anything happen to you. Never, never, never." I hear the floorboards creak and look up; Chandler's in the doorway, shorts and t-shirt fortunately in place. "Look, Jack—Daddy's here, too."
"Daddy," he whispers, and Chandler comes over to kiss Jack's head, rubbing his back.
"You're okay, Jack," Chandler whispers, swaying in time with the two of us. "Go back to sleep."
He shakes his head, though I can tell he's fighting sleep, which is rare. I know he must be unsettled by his surroundings.
I hear the floorboards creak again and see my mother coming into the room, looking concerned.
"Everything okay?" she asks, sounding concerned, and I just nod, my hand joining Chandler's to rub our son's back.
"Yeah. He just didn't know where he was. He's all right."
She nods and I turn my attention back to Jack, who turns his face into my neck, smacking his lips sleepily. I take a deep breath, taking in his clean-baby smell—it won't be long before he constantly smells like gross, sticky little boy. I need to take it where I can get it.
I realize my mother's still in the doorway and I jump a little, startled. "What?"
She just shakes her head, smiling at us. "You're such good parents."
My breath catches a little—I wasn't expecting that.
"I never get to see you two do this part," she adds, and I'm not entirely sure what she means, but I get the feeling she means it in the best way possible. She takes a few steps into the room, leaning in to kiss my cheek. She then stands on tiptoe, kissing Chandler's cheek, too. She kisses the back of Jack's head, giving his little butt a pat. "Goodnight," she says, walking out of the room without a backward glance.
I lift my eyebrow to Chandler; he just shrugs. My mother is nothing if not unpredictable.
Jack's mostly asleep so I carefully put him back in his crib, pulling a blanket over his little form. In a moment, he turns over, settling down, and I know he'll be okay for a while. Chandler's arm goes around my waist and we take a moment to watch him sleep.
He's getting so big—they all are. William's just a couple weeks shy of his first birthday, and the twins are already more than two years old. It's going by too fast.
I lean my head against my husband's chest and he kisses the top of my head. "I know," he whispers, and he does. He gets it.
We sigh and head back to our room. I drop my robe and pull on my pajamas before crawling into bed next to him. I feel like I need to say something to him, but I just don't know what.
"I love you," he says softly, and I smile.
That's always a good one.
"I love you, too."
And it's enough.