The One With The Night Of Seven Times

By: Jana~

Rated NC-17

Chapter One

XXX

--“So, you’re, speedy, huh?” she asked him, attempting to find a tactful way of phrasing it, hoping to move past Joey’s ill-timed abrupt disruption.

“I don’t mean to be,” he answered, embarrassed, “But, if it’s been a while, which it has, and I’m really excited, which I am, then, yeah, I tend to be a bit quick. But,” he added earnestly, “I recover quickly! I won’t leave you high and dry, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh, I’m not,” she told him with a smirk, “Cause I won’t let you.”

Chuckling, he asked, “Oh, you won’t let me?”

“Nope!” she answered with every confidence, asking with a sly grin, “How well do you take instruction?”

“Instruction?” he asked incredulously, a slight smile inching onto his face as he joked, “Well, I’ve never had someone give me instruction… in bed. But, I’m a fast learner, and open to any suggestions you might have.”

“Good,” she shot back, her grin growing before dropping completely from her expression. “Start with that lesson in erogenous zones I gave you a few months back,” she said in all seriousness, adding, “We’ll work from there.”

“Should I raise my hand if I have a question?” he quipped, a slight irritation edging his tone.

“Do you have a question already?” she asked, matching his inflection; the serious look she held only lasted seconds, as she inched her fingers into his hair and pulled him towards her for a kiss.

All thoughts of how bossy she was being, of how she was his friend, and therefore making this feel wrong, left his head as he kissed her. As she kissed him. Tentatively at first, his free hand began exploring her body, her naked skin beneath his fingertips causing his heart to race and all lingering ideas of anything else to shoot out of his brain.

Why didn’t this feel wrong? Why didn’t this feel weird? She couldn’t answer those questions, and she was rapidly reaching the point of not caring. This was so much better than how she thought the night would go, and the night had just begun. It was Joey she was looking for, when her inebriated mind concocted the plan, knowing he knew full well how to satisfy a woman. He would have been able to stimulate her physically. Make her feel sexy in the wake of feeling anything but. She did not expect, when approaching his and Chandler’s hotel room door, to feel this.

That was her last coherent thought as Chandler gently broke their rapidly intensifying kiss, to slowly drag his lips towards her neck.

Her breath catching as he brushed his thumb across the taut flesh on her breast caused him to smile. “Good?” he whispered, very near her ear; a shot of arousal coursed through him when she exhaled slowly, the sound closely resembling a moan.

“Mmm-hmm,” she hummed, her fingers continuing to play in his hair. “You have an amazing touch.”

Feeling a sense of pride over her compliment, he dipped his head, returning his lips to her neck as he, with gentle pressure, rolled the flawless rosy peak between his thumb and forefinger. “Too hard?” he asked, to which she shook her head almost imperceptibly.

“No,” she replied softly, “It’s perfect. It’s like we’ve done this a hundred times before. It’s like, you already know my body.”

The breathy quality to her voice caused him to shudder, and he inhaled sharply before releasing it, accompanied by the softly spoken words, “God, Mon, you are so beautiful.”

In that moment, she couldn’t remember ever feeling more so.

Trailing kisses as he traveled, he drifted down to her navel, the tip of his tongue swirling in and around it. Normally, this would have caused her to giggle, as she was ticklish, but arousal squelched the laughter.

“You missed a major erogenous zone,” she told him playfully, peeking one eye open, attempting to gauge his response.

Grinning slight, he asked, “Did I say I was done yet?”

“You didn’t,” she conceded, then closed her eyes once again, surrendering to his interpretation of the lesson she had given him months previous. After all, he had yet to disappoint.

Lapping at her belly button with the flat of his tongue, he mumbled around his affections, “I’m mixing it up. Keeping you on your toes.”

Moaning, she whispered back, “Carry on then.”

“Besides,” he added as his kisses slowly ascended, “I didn’t exactly miss it.”

“You missed one of them,” she informed teasingly, arching into his affections, adding, “And I was, actually, referring to, you know, the other.”

“The other?” he asked with a knowing smile, teasing her with his lips.

“Your kisses,” she answered, suddenly feeling shy and blushing at her own words, and her inability to speak them without embarrassment.

Catching the reddening of her cheeks, he asked, mainly to see what her reaction would be, “You want my lips and tongue on your breasts, Mon?”

Her entire body flushed in response, and she tightened her closed eyes to stave off the wealth of emotions as she nodded.

“Sorry,” he apologized, kissing her more to console than to excite, “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“I think it’s because it’s you,” she told him, eyes opening slowly to meet his gaze.

Taking her comment to mean that he had crossed some kind of line, or that she was rethinking the intelligence of what they were doing, he asked, “Is this just too weird for you?”

“No,” she answered, scowling back at him, shaking her head. “That’s the weird thing. This isn’t weird! I think that’s why… why your words…”

Caressing her body sensually, he asked when she trailed off, “Then, should I not say, certain things?”

“I liked you saying it,” she admitted, the tiniest smile pulling at her lips. “I have a feeling,” she added, “That I’ll like you doing it even more.”

Taking that as his cue, he nodded only once before leaning in, teasingly kissing her milky flesh, purposefully missing her swollen nipple. Whenever he would come close, her breath would catch in anticipation, only to have him dart away, leaving her unfulfilled.

“God,” she whispered, squirming as his arousal tactics challenged her patience. “Turn around’s fair play, you know,” she said, feeling his lips turn up into a smirk against her breast.

“You love it and you know it,” he whispered back, his warm breath causing her skin to goosebump, effectively proving him right. When she crossed her ankles and squeezed her thighs together, attempting to alleviate some of the ache pulsating in her groin, he laughed. “I caught that,” he said, his hand inching in as an encouragement for her to open her legs; she complied instantly, almost desperately. He cupped her mound, but applied almost no pressure.

“You’re killing me,” she groaned, pushing at his hand, to which he just moved with her, denying her the needed stimulation.

“You won’t die,” he quipped, brushing his lips across the valley between her breasts, teasing the other one as he had the first. “Although by the end of this,” he added jokingly, “I might, by your hand.”

“I’m not planning on killing you,” she told him, sighing as he yet again moved his lips away before making the contact she craved, and was near frantic for. “But,” she added, grabbing a fistful of his hair, hoping to guide his movements, “Torturing you is fastly becoming highest on my list of priorities.”

“If by torture, you mean more of this, you’ll get no argument from me,” he returned, only needing to struggle slightly against the direction she was trying to force upon him.

Reaching the breaking point, she cried out, “For the love of God, Chandler, this isn’t foreplay! This is eight-play! Please…” Almost as soon as the breathy plea was made, he swirled his tongue around the firm highly aroused nipple he was playing near before drawing it into his mouth, suckling gently.

She moaned loudly in gratitude, releasing her grip on his hair, running her fingers soothingly through the strands she had fisted.

Alternating strokes, he would lap at her nipple, dragging his tongue flat across it slowly, the peak of it easing to almost nonexistent before he would flick at it rapidly again with the tip of his tongue, bringing it back to full arousal.

Rocking her hips, trying once again to make stronger contact with his hand, she brought hers up to her other breast, pinching and pulling at the nipple.

“Don’t,” he whispered, nuzzling her hand out of the way, “Let me do it. Just, relax,” he added, after flicking at it only once. “We’re getting there. Slowly, but, we’re getting there.”

“Get there faster,” she shot back, smiling down on him as he smiled up at her.

“Relax,” he repeated, asking after biting her taut skin gently, “Haven’t you ever done this before?” Off her incredulous expression, he added, “Delayed gratification, I mean.”

“Not to this extent,” she answered, becoming further aroused by not only the physical sensations he was creating, but by the sight of what he was doing to her as well.

“This is nothing,” he laughed, rolling her left nipple as he continued lapping at her right, “I could do this for hours.”

“Oh, God,” she groaned, bringing her legs together again, clenching his hand between her thighs; he forced her legs back open.

“Don’t,” he said again, returning his hand to her mound. “I want your clit to be throbbing when I finally touch it.”

“Fucking hell, Chandler,” she cursed, flushing not from embarrassment, as before, but from overwhelming arousal. “You implied, months ago, that you weren’t any good at this.”

Shrugging slight, he told her, “I didn’t think I was.”

“Yeah, well,” she laughed, “You thought wrong.”

“No,” he corrected, “I was right… back then.”

“You weren’t this good before?” she asked, staring back at him as his lips left her body, as his eyes burned into hers.

“No,” he whispered with a shake of his head.

“What changed?” she asked curiously, wondering a second later if she should have.

“Your lesson,” he told her, then, pausing briefly, reluctantly admitted, “And Kathy.”

Assuming the sudden change in him was due to emotional pain, she asked carefully, “Do you still miss her?” His answer surprised her.

“No.”

“Chandler,” she whispered, touching his face gently, consolingly, “You can tell me the truth. I know how crazy in love with her you were.”

It was strange, but going from lovers in the heat of passion, back to the friends they had always been, wasn’t as awkward as one might imagine. In fact, the two emotions, passion and friendship, blended perfectly.

Sighing, he said, “I’m pretty sure I was in love with her, but, I’m just, not anymore. It hurt for a while – you know, you were there, but, I’m ok now.”

“Good,” she whispered, then asked with a hint of a smile, “Kiss me?”

Without the slightest hesitation, his lips were on hers soundly, desires rekindling easily.

Shifting positions, nuzzling against her neck, he asked, “How do you feel about oral sex?”

“I like receiving better than I like giving,” she told him honestly, “But, in general, I feel good about it.”

She could feel him smiling against her, but when he pulled back, there was no humor to be found in his expression what-so-ever.

“K,” he said, adding as he adjusted to a hands-and-knees position, “Be right back.”

Climbing in between her legs, Chandler immediately went to work, and Monica nearly launched off the bed as he began by dragging his tongue up the length of her opening a few times before finally flicking at her clit.

“Oh, God, yes,” she breathed, fisting the sheets in her hands.

“If there’s anything you need me to do differently,” he said between licks, “Don’t be shy. Speak up.”

“It’s perfect,” she whispered, adding, “Just, speed up a little.”

Shaking his head, he sucked her clit into his mouth, suckling it for a moment before releasing it. “I don’t want you cumming too quickly,” he whispered back, then started the pattern he had adopted over again, picking up the pace only slightly.

Sighing in both pain and pleasure, she asked, “Where’s that condom?”

“Nightstand, next to you,” he answered, his rhythm faltering as he did, though he was able to regain it quickly.

Glancing over, Monica reached out and grabbed the little foil packet, shakily ripping it open and holding it at the ready. “No more teasing, Chandler,” she said with what was meant to be a firm voice. In actuality, to Chandler, she had never sounded weaker or so unlike herself. “When I tell you to, I want you to put this on and get inside me.”

Forcing himself not to laugh, or make a joke, he replied with, “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Chandler,” she half-ass scolded him, “I’m younger than you. Don’t call me that. And for the love of God,” she added in a strained whisper, “Go faster! I’m so close.”

Deciding that he had tortured her long enough, he did as she’d asked, flicking furiously against the sensitive bud, reaching up and tweaking a nipple as he did.

“Do what you were doing before,” she asked of him. “Go back and forth between little circles and up and down.”

It was the first real instruction she had given him since they had begun, and he readily followed it, wanting to fulfill her needs more in that moment than he wanted to his own.

“God, Chandler, I’m so close,” she panted; she sounded like she had just gotten back from a mile run, her moans and whimpers turning him on more than he had ever remembered being in his life, ever.

“Tell me what you need, Mon,” he requested, his voice low in his throat, cluing Monica in to just how aroused he actually was.

“Your fingers,” she answered. “Inside me.”

“Not yet,” he said, adding in a whisper, “I want my penis to be the first thing inside you.”

Just him saying that set her off, her muscles clenching, then quivering as she finally climaxed. Slowing the pace, he allowed her to drift for a moment, then picked it back up again, bringing on an aftershock.

Relaxing back onto the mattress, she held the opened condom packet out towards him, shaking it to gain his attention. “Hurry,” was all she said.

All within about five seconds’ time, he grabbed it from her, removed it from the foil, then slipped it onto his painfully hard erection. Nearly collapsing on top of her, he gathered her into his arms, prodding her entrance to be sure he was in position before pushing inside with one ardent thrust. They both moaned loudly, almost in unison.

The pace he’d started showed his eagerness, but the way Monica moved with him, grinding against him when he was fully in her, led him to believe that she was climbing again. Wanting to give her another orgasm, he slowed down, asking in a barely audible level of voice, “Can I get you back up there?”

“I think so,” she answered, her brow furrowing as if in deep concentration. “I need you at a different angle, though.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, forcing his brain to think of anything but the pulsating need for release.

“Let me put my legs on your shoulders,” she explained, “Then start low, and thrust up. Do you understand what I mean by that?”

“I think so,” he whispered, kissing her lips quickly before pushing upright, helping her to place her legs up on his shoulders. Pausing for a moment to settle his anxiousness, he gripped her hips before beginning again, creating the motion she had described.

“This what you meant?” he asked after several thrusts; she nodded slight in response.

“Shorter strokes, though,” she asked of him, adding, “You’re too big.”

Never having considered himself that, he looked down on her in surprise. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No,” she answered, “It’s not that. You’re just, missing my spot.”

With shallower thrusts, he reached his hand around and started thumbing her clit, eliciting a guttural moan from her, causing him to moan in return.

“Faster,” she begged, and he shuddered to stave off his release as he complied.

“God, please tell me you’re close, Mon,” he groaned. “I’m not gonna last much longer. I’m surprised I lasted this long. It feels so good, being inside you,” he added, closing his eyes tightly for only a moment when she bit at her lower lip.

“I am,” she assured him. “Wait for me.”

“I’m trying,” he breathed, slowing to hold off the inevitable before picking up pace again. His thumb worked her clit furiously, dragging moisture up from where their bodies were joined every few seconds.

“Monica, please,” he gasped, his orgasm teetering on the brink.

“Almost there,” she promised, twisting her own nipples to hopefully help the process.

Her doing that set him off. “I’m sorry-- I can’t-- Oh, God…”

Knowing he was climaxing tipped Monica into hers, and she moaned in an octave to match his as she arched her back, grabbing his hand and encouraging him to lay his fingers flat against her clit, rather than stroke it.

“God,” she breathed, slowly starting to relax when he did, struggling to remove her legs from his shoulders.

He settled in deeper, pushing his softening erection further inside her, wanting to stay connected to her for as long as possible. Supporting his weight on his elbows and arms, he tucked his hands under her at her shoulders, pressing his body fully against hers.

“That was the most amazing thing ever,” he whispered in her ear, then kissed her temple affectionately.

“I don’t know how you were before,” she said to him, still struggling to catch her breath, “But you have no reason to feel inadequate now.”

“Thanks,” he laughed, rolling off her and gathering her to him. “You were incredible, too.”

“Thanks.” There was several moments of silence, before she spoke up again, asking, “Does why you used to feel that way, have anything to do with Joey?”

Shrugging, he asked, “What makes you say that?”

“Something you said, that day I gave you the lesson,” she answered, snuggling harder against him.

“In a way,” he admitted. “I mean, we share a wall. As much as I don’t want to hear him, I can’t help but.”

“Yeah, but, Chandler,” she told him, her tone serious as well as considerate, “Just because Joey is good, and the women react… enthusiastically, that doesn’t mean you’re bad.”

“Maybe.”

Inching back to look him in the eyes, she said, “There’s more to this than the physicality of it. Joey is probably completely competent at pushing all the right buttons physically, but, there’s an emotional aspect to this. Touch, connection, words… The mind is, actually, a big erogenous zone for women. Stimulate the mind, the body will follow.”

“Thank you, for saying all that,” he said after a brief silence, “Even if you didn’t mean it.”

“I meant it,” she assured him, then they both fell into a comfortable silence for nearly a minute.

“Do you have to rush back to your room?” he asked, planting a soft kiss in her hair.

“No, but, what about Joey?”

“He’s out for the night,” he answered confidently. “He’s with that bridesmaid, and my box of condoms.”

“Which leads us to another problem,” she reminded. “Joey has your condoms.”

“Maybe the front desk can help with that,” he mused, then shifted away from her to grab the phone. “Hello,” he said to whomever picked up the extension, “Got a question for you. I know it’s late, but, I was wondering if… if you had… um… condoms?” He laughed at the response he received. “No, ma’am, I didn’t mean you personally. I’m, well, in need of some, and, I’m guessing the hotel’s little store is closed.” Listening for a moment, he asked, “Ok, sure, but, I’m not from around here, as is probably apparent by my accent, so, um, how do I get there?” As the directions were given to him, he sat up and located his pants. “So, I turn left out the door and just keep walking till I see it on the left hand side? Sounds simple enough.” Laughing again after a moment, he said, “Ma’am, I’m from New York, I doubt your weirdoes are weirder than mine.”

Ending the call with a simple thank you and goodnight, he hung up the phone and turned to Monica. “There’s a little liquor store, about a block up the street.”

“You’re gonna go out in the cold, at this hour?” she asked him, shocked.

“Mon,” he told her, “If it meant getting to do that again with you, I would walk a mile in a blizzard!” Kissing her softly, he announced as he left the bed, “I’ll only be a few minutes. Watch some TV or something.”

Watching him step into his pants, then whip on his shirt, she asked, “You’re gonna wear your jammies out in public?”

“I’m buying condoms so that I can repeatedly make love to the hottest woman I have ever known,” he laughed in reply. “You really think I care what people think?”

Laughing with, she suggested on a more serious note, “Get some champagne, too. I want to make a night of this.”

After slipping into his coat, he jumped playfully onto the bed, the comical Chandler she knew as a friend appearing before her in the blink of an eye. “Will do. Be right back,” he promised, kissing her tenderly before leaping off the bed and for the door.

Covering her face with the pillow as soon as the latch clicked, she cried happily into it, “Oh my God!”

There was no question in her mind. That was the best sex she’d ever had.

To be continued

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