Chapter 2: Scream For Me

Monica didn't know how long she lay there. 10 minutes? 15 minutes? Ah, it didn't matter. Time itself had blissfully stopped. All she could sense was how she now lay sprawled, spread-eagled on the mattress, her satiated body quivering, utterly undone.

Through half-lidded eyes, she gazed up at Chandler adoringly, as though he was an angel sent down from above to attend to her. From the look on his face, he seemed flabbergasted that it was he to have reduced her so, to this – a trembling, stuttering mess.

Monica couldn't speak. She could barely think. Where, oh where, had he learned to pleasure a woman like that? A goofy grin spread across her flush and very kissed lips as she remembered: her. It was she who had taught him how to bring the softer sex to the heights of pleasure. She had taught him well.

Next moment, a sting of jealousy replaced buzzing giddiness, as Monica allowed herself to wonder whether Chandler had placed his lips on another's body with such deft talent. She thought of Kathy, who had been unaware of what she had – that two-timing wench did not deserve to have had this natural master in her bed.

Monica's grin was now silly, idiotic. Had her lover's attentions driven her any more mad, she no doubt would be speaking in nonsensical, monosyllabic babble more befitting her toddler nephew, Ben.

At least Chandler had the awareness to understand that, whatever he had done to her, it had clearly left her in ecstasy rather than agony. Monica had to appreciate his humility, for how he didn't look smug even as, after such a command performance, his confidence had clearly earned a well-deserved boost. In any case, he didn't ask her if she was all right – he didn't need to. The dreamy, dazed look on her face said it all.

Chandler reached out a trembling hand and brushed Monica's cheek, tucking her sweat-plastered bangs back over her ear and she beamed at him.

"That….. that was amazing," she managed at last in a breathless sigh. It was the most words she could string together and still sound reasonably coherent.

"R-really?" he stuttered. "You mean it?"

Monica chuckled low in her throat. "You…. you've been practicing, I see…" Her praise was playful, though far from teasing.

Chandler flushed pink, smiling bashfully and fuck, how had she never seen how goddamn adorable he was? "I had a good teacher…."

Her limbs still twitching slightly from pleasure, Monica nonetheless had regained enough control of her muscles to slowly sit up in the bed. She had to resolve that, in an alternate universe in which seizures were good, this might be what a post-good seizure would feel like. Her mind was empty, nearly blank, but in a carefree way.

From her movements, Chandler must have sensed or thought that Monica was leaving already. Now his confidence was roaring to life and he stole an arm, though still carefully, around her middle, settling Monica against him. "Where are you going?" His tone was equal parts anxious and amorous, like he was trying to pull off something smooth and suave in his words as easily as he had done in his actions.

Monica glanced back at him, bemused. "What made you think I was going anywhere?" She beamed at how brightly his impossibly blue eyes shone at her signaling an intention to stay.

"Thank God," Chandler breathed. "Do… do you want to just… lie down here beside me? We – we don't have to…. do anything again." Shyness was creeping back into his countenance.

Monica gaped at him. Then she started to laugh, almost uncontrollably.

"What?" Chandler frowned, concerned.

"Are you kidding?" Monica chirped. "I don't want to go to sleep now!" She couldn't, even if she wanted to; although, with how noodly she was, she could have. But she didn't.

"Then what?"

"Chandler….." Monica smiled brightly. "I want to do that again! I…." Here she flushed prettily. "I want you to make love to me again…." Tears suddenly formed in her irises and slipped down her face as she brought herself back to moments before, when her best friend, whom she cared for more than anyone else in the world, had shown her how much he loved her…. and, to her complete and utter amazement, had made her cum. Hard. Harder than she ever had in her life.

Chandler's expression collapsed into something that could only be described as besotted and he reached for her, only to falter when Monica twisted away.

"No," she decided quickly.

"What?"

"I don't want you to make love to me again…."

Chandler started to open his mouth to say 'But', only to have the word die on his lips as Monica rolled onto her stomach. Lifting her hips, she bore her bare ass to him, casting a glance back at her partner over her shoulder.

"I want you to fuck me…"

Through her lidded, lustful eyes, she watched him carefully – this man whom she had taken and accepted as her lover. Perhaps there was still a lingering buzz from the alcohol, for Monica knew she had never before been this bold with any man in bed. She was known to be adventurous in the sack, sure, but that often came with the understanding that she would be the one to dominate. Never had she ceded control to her partner so willingly, so brazenly. It thrilled and excited her. Plus, she admitted it: she was almost testing him. Monica was eager to see what else the talented Mr. Bing could do to her.

So it baffled her when Chandler hesitated. "I…. I don't want to hurt you…."

Ah. So that's what this was about. In a way, knowing this was the reason for his reticence only endeared him to Monica more. Taking Chandler by the wrist, Monica kindly guided him so that he lined up behind her virgin entrance. She steered his palm so that it cupped the swell of her naked breast. "Oh, my darling…." she breathed. "You won't hurt me. You could never hurt me." She ducked her head so she could catch his eyes and hold them. "I promise…." she cooed.

Chandler swallowed. "It's just…. I've never been rough with anyone in bed before. It's… it's not me…."

Monica felt tears prick her eyes. This sweet, adorable man! Every woman should be so lucky to have a lover whose first instinct was to be soft and tender, rather than kinky.

She hesitated for a moment as she debated what to do. On the one hand, Chandler had her assurances that she would be safe while he attempted to try something new, and wasn't learning something new always a good thing, particularly between the sheets? On the other hand, Monica didn't want to make Chandler do something he didn't want to do.

She decided to strike a balance between the two when it occurred to her that she could couch this as a learning opportunity. Another teachable moment. He had already mastered the erogenous zones to her satisfaction (much to her satisfaction). It was time for the next lesson.

"Let's just try it," she insisted. "If you are still uncomfortable…. taking me…. like that….. then we'll stop." At Chandler's skeptical look, she grinned at him. "You won't offend me, Chandler. You aren't. I promise. In fact, I think your instinct to be a gentleman is quite sweet. But… there are some instances….. while making love…. where you should not…." She dipped the volume in her voice. "…. be a gentleman."

Swallowing, Chandler shifted on his knees and lined up his cock, hard anew, with the slit between Monica's globed buttocks. He mounted her and swiftly mated with her.

Monica threw back her head with an amazed cry, astounded by how he stretched and filled her – from behind, this time.

"Thrust," she commanded him breathlessly, despite being in the submissive position.

Chandler slowly eased out and then plunged back in. His pace was still careful, perhaps a little awkward due to his clear unfamiliarity with the Doggy-Style position, but it wasn't clumsy. Even when joining with her from a new angle, clumsy was something Chandler could never possibly be as a lover. Of this, Monica was already quite certain.

"That's it…." Monica sighed through a triumphant smile. "Now… : harder! Faster….."

Once he got the mechanics of it, Chandler began to piston his cock into Monica's anus. His one palm dropped to grip her slim hip, and his touch seemed to burn. "A-again…." Monica croaked. She felt as though she was sinking into the plush of the mattress. "Chandler, give it to me….. GIVE IT TO ME!" Her entreaty rose to a shout, a pleading one. Oddly, her mind flashed back to a handful of years ago, one day in Central Perk when Chandler had stolen her banana muffin and she had implored, then commanded him to…

…. Give it to me…..

The Rick James song of the same name abruptly popped into her head, and Monica nearly choked out a laugh, only for it to morph into a whimper instead as Chandler slammed into her with a confidence that made her lose her breath.

"Yeah, that's right…. harder…." When Chandler didn't immediately pick up the pace right away, Monica yelled, "HARDER, fuck me HARDER!"

Chandler finally abandoned his gentlemanly pretenses and began to pump his hips into Monica's ass, grinding against her round arse cheeks. His other palm, the one not searing her hip, was still cupping her boob, fondling the firm and erect nipple.

"Ohhhhh…." Monica lolled her head, letting the weight of it hang as she stared down at the mattress between her splayed hands from where she was on all fours.

Chandler grew in confidence as the copulating couple played the Beast With Two Backs. Every upstroke into her rear made Monica shake with pleasure. Her Chandler was a natural, the most gifted partner she had ever had in her bed. As he bore down, Monica felt heady at the sensation that Chandler seemed to be discovering his domineering side and letting it awaken. It was all the better for how he was allowing this without losing control or hurting her.

"Who do you belong to, you vixen?" The growl in his voice made Monica squeak.

"Y-You…." she lowed melodiously, lifting her ass so Chandler could plunge into her deeper.

"Are you mine?!"

"YES!" Monica wailed, arching her back, throwing her head to the ceiling.

"Then say it!"

"I'm yours, Chandler! I'm whatever you want me to be! I'll be your whore, your bitch, anything, just, for the love of God, don't stop…..!"

"Lover," Chandler spat. "You're my lover now." Monica whimpered and nodded acquiescingly, without another thought. "Do you now how long I've carried a torch for you….?"

Monica felt her eyes widen in amazement even as they started to roll into the back of her head. A sound started to emanate from her, only for Chandler's hand at her breast to suddenly clap over her mouth and her cries turned to muffled yips, mixing in with his grunts as he bedded her.

"MMMMMMM! HMMMMMMMMM!"

Chandler's hips were pumping into her rear end in little bursts now. His pelvis was jerking, bucking. Her glutes would clench and milk him, bring him to orgasm before she was complete; Monica could feel it. Though she had little doubt he would, Monica still twisted her face so that his palm dropped from her mouth, so she could beg him:

"Finish me, Chandler…."

"Or what?" Another slam and Monica cried out happily.

"Or, I'll….." Her eyes darted about a little. "I'll scream….."

The way she leveled this made it sound almost like a threat, one by which Chandler was unfazed. "So scream," he goaded. "Scream for me."

"Oh Godddddddd…" Monica groaned, rocking her lower half furiously back into Chandler's penis.

"I said scream!" Chandler growled. Ordered. "Scream!"

"Ahhhhhhhhh….." Monica's voice pitched into a satiated shout, but no further. Chandler was pounding into her furiously now, his ministrations making Monica thrash beneath him.

"SCREAM!" Monica let out a shriek that joined in their chorus alongside the howl of his command.

"SCREAM FOR ME!"

At that second, Chandler exploded inside Monica's ass, and her glute muscles squeezed his member as she milked him. Feeling him empty himself inside her, Monica threw back her skull and let out the most high-pitched noise of pleasure she had ever uttered.

It was almost a wail, but not quite. There was something almost melodious to the sound, so that as Chandler delivered her to bliss once more, Monica didn't scream for him.

No – she sang for him.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

A/N: Erik'sTrueAngel... this one's for you. Sing - er, scream - for me.