Chapter 1: All The Time in the World
Chandler slammed the door to his hotel room behind him and locked it. Turning back, he froze and lost his breath.
He couldn't help but allow himself to savor the moment, the captivating sight he held in his eyes just then:
Monica, in that fetching red dress that hugged her immaculate figure in all the right places, all while giving him the most breathless, dazzling radiant smile.
"Wow…." Chandler breathed, nearly at a loss for words. His throat felt dry and he swallowed. He stumbled an awkward step towards her, unable to believe that she was real. "You look…."
"No time!" She shook her head, lurching into him and frantically working to undo the tie at his collar. Chandler moved to help her undress him however he could, pausing to steal intermittent, dizzying kisses from her lips. Monica moaned into his mouth, pulling away reluctantly to come up for air and also complete the immediate task at hand for both of them, which was to get naked and get naked fast.
That didn't stop the pull from overtaking them, so that their lips came together in another kiss between every other article of discarded clothing now piling up on the carpet at their feet.
Kiss. A cummerbund here. Kiss. A shoe and a sock there. Kiss. Monica's red dress shrugged off her shoulders and fell away from her lithe, statuesque frame, pooling with a rustle at their feet.
Chandler drew his lips away from where they had been practically fused to hers to gape in wonder, as a blushing Monica shyly stepped out from where they bright red garment now pooled around her ankles.
Chandler whimpered in awe as he now saw: she wasn't wearing a bra underneath. She had been wearing nothing underneath.
Taking Monica in his arms, Chandler could only gaze at her in wonder, brushing, caressing her midnight-black tresses out of her gorgeous face, tucking the strands behind her ear. She smiled up at him, adoring, the sapphires that were her entrancing eyes staring up into his face pleadingly as in a quiet, raw, passionate voice, she begged of him:
"Chandler…. Kiss me….."
Their lips came together lustily, though also tinged with a tentativeness that to Chandler's mind seemed healthy. It added to the electricity sparking between them, to the heat filling this hotel room. There was a weight, an awareness, a solemnity to what they were about to do.
Last night, magical as it was, could still be chalked up to a happy accident, provided they stepped back from the brink here.
Neither did, nor wished to. From the hunger in her gaze, Monica seemed perfectly willing to fling them both off the precipice.
Kissing her again deeply, Chandler gently allowed his palms at her slim waist to wander lower. His fingers found, caressed the flesh of her globed buttocks: squeezing first one cheek and then the other. Trembling in her embrace, Chandler waited for Monica's response. He hoped he wasn't screwing this up, that she wanted to be, liked being, touched like this.
He needn't have worried. Taking his one palm, Monica guided Chandler to grip the inside of her thigh and hike it up, gallingly raising her leg to his waist. She now hooked it about his torso at the back of the knee.
Lifting her in his arms, Chandler carried his lover over to his bed and flung them both down onto it. Arms encircling each other lovingly, Chandler and Monica kissed lazily, languorously. Despite the franticness with which they had stolen away from the ruined reception, their pace had now slowed even as their desire for each other had not.
They weren't going to fuck. Not as they had in seven glorious rounds last night. No. Now that they were alone, they were going to savor this.
They were going to make love.
Chandler let his lips dance all along Monica's perfect porcelain skin, across her face, blazing a trail down her jawbone and into the soft, creamy curve of her neck. As he kissed her, worshipped her, Chandler let his trembling hands come up to cup the swell of Monica's round, pert breasts, his fingers twanging her pebbled nipples.
Chandler's hands on her…. his mouth on her…. made Monica squirm in contentment beneath him. "Oh… Oh, Chandler…." And Monica heard the hitch in her voice that told her she was nearly crying from the pleasure. "It's…. it's too much….! Your kisses: perfect. Your touch: perfect…." This was Heaven on Earth, she realized. She had found paradise, entered it, without even needing to die in order to achieve such a higher plane of existence.
How she had ever lived without this in the first place, Monica had no idea. Well, no more. Having had her eyes opened so she could truly see, she was not about to let this epiphany, this rapture pass her way but once. Cradling his face, stroking it, Monica brought her lips to Chandler's, kissing him lovingly and then quickly deepening the kiss. Her mouth parted willingly under his at the same moment that her legs opened under his, granting him entrance in both holy places.
Chandler's tongue swam into Monica's open maw with a kind of dazed disbelief.
"Chandler…." Monica murmured, her timbre a lover's caress. "I need you. I want you inside me. Now."
Her lover, her best friend whom she cared for more than anyone in the world, didn't need to be told twice. Still, Monica appreciated his gentleness as he slid his throbbing manliness into her sopping wet folds. Into the petals of her aching sex.
Having come together, Chandler and Monica now moved as one, each learning where the other liked to be touched. Each learning how the other liked to be pleasured.
The couple undulated against each other with twin groans of bliss and lust. At one point from where he swayed above her, Chandler groped about behind him until his fist closed over the edge of the bed-sheet and he threw it over both of them, over their heads like a tent. The white blanket now roiled like a cresting wave as he and Monica rubbed against each other in heat. His adorableness made Monica giggle.
"Oh, Chandler!..." she yipped, squeaking as he slightly picked up his pace in mating with her. Scratching her nails down his back, eventually digging them into his glutes and holding fast, Monica pushed her hips up to meet his, matching Chandler thrust for ever-loving thrust.
She thought his conscientiousness, his gentlemanly deference in making love to her quite sweet. Even sweeter was how he had now taken steps to hide their sexual intercourse from view. Monica's self-esteem had been boosted enough last night to know that concealing them both and their dirty deed under the bedclothes was not due to any shame on Chandler's part in sleeping with, going to bed with, her. Was he that afraid that someone might walk in on them in bed together? He had locked the door, latched it from the inside, so that even if Joey tried his keycard, he wouldn't be able to get in. And if Joey somehow had the manners to knock (a doubtful proposition)…. Well. Monica wasn't about to answer it. Not let Chandler out of her arms to.
But no one disturbed them. No one invaded their little love nest of paradise as the best friends turned to lovers nurtured their want for each other. Cultivated their love now made flesh. The pleasure and warmth was now crashing over Monica in waves and she clawed at every bit of Chandler that she could reach, pressing him close, closer still.
"Oh, Chandler…. Chandler…." His thrusts, which had been tender to begin with, were weakening. Every place he touched her, kissed her, he was infinitely kind and gentle. Tears of happiness slipped from Monica's eyes and dripped down her face, and she lolled her head with a content sigh into the pillows, shivering as Chandler's lips kissed away her tears. Monica's eyelids were now lidded, drooped shut, her mouth falling half-open into an astounded smile.
"…. What is it….?" Chandler whispered, his voice almost a breathless croak.
"I'm…. I'm having a wonderful time!" she laughed, gasping as Chandler's touch burned her hip and she levitated the small of her back off the mattress. "Ohhhhh….." Her eyes fluttering open, Monica's gaze – now twin pools of black – locked onto Chandler's summer-sky blue eyes and held them. "It's just… for the first time…. I feel loved…" She grinned with relish. "I feel…. wicked….."
Chandler stared down at her in awe. "God, Monica….." he grunted, pumping into her faster. "I… I don't want to hurt you…"
Smiling at him, feeling the tears anew at how sensitive and sweet he was being, Monica shook her head reassuringly. "You won't…." she promised. She looped her arms around his neck, encircled his rippling spine. "Don't be a gentleman, honey…." she whispered. "Love me! Make me cum….. and don't hold back…."
"Fuck…..!" Chandler breathed, and he ground against her faster. Monica rocked against him in metronomic perfect time.
"Huhhhhh….. Uhhhhh….. UHHHHHHHHH! OHHHHHHHH! Oh – Oh, God…" she cried. "I'm….. Chandler, I'm close, I'm so close, baby! I'm…"
It happened suddenly, abruptly and blissfully. Her toes curled. Her fingers fisted both bedclothes and sweaty skin so hard, the knuckles turned white.
Monica's thighs clamped around her paramour, and her muscles clenched as, with a triumphant shout, she came.
Coming down from the high of her orgasm felt like floating to earth on a parachute. Dazed with wonder as how the eighth time could be just as magical as the first, Monica dreamily wound her arms about Chandler's back, her fingers clutching the rippling skin of his shoulder blades, hard enough that her nails were bound to leave a mark. Love descended on her with the axis-tilting clarity of a choir of angels signing. Nothing was to be as it was before, nor did Monica wish for it to be. Body attended to beyond her wildest dreams, in the arms of a man whom she knew cared for her, Monica felt her voice lift melodiously in rapturous, yearning song, praising Chandler, and the most marvelous lovemaking she had ever been a part of:
"….. Ahhhhh, sweet mystery of life, at last I've found you!... Ahhhhhh, I know at last the secret of it all….!"
