"Hey, Mon, do you mind if I sleep over here tonight?" Chandler asked, coming
into Monica's apartment with his usual blankets and pillows. Every time Joey
had a girl who was noisier than usual spend the night, Chandler slept in
their apartment to get some peace.

"Sure," Monica answered, getting up off the couch with a luxiourous stretch
from spending an hour cramped up reading a book. "Rachel's spending the
night at Ross's place, so you won't have to worry about hearing those two at
it all night." She paused in consideration and then added: "Me either for
that matter. I'll go ahead and make up the couch for you."

"Thanks," Chandler said. Then he burst out in frustration: "With all of the
experience Joey has with women you'd think he'd be able to tell what the
noisy ones look like. Couldn't he take me into consideration for one? Me, his
room mate who can unwantingly hear every private moment in that bedroom of
his. Could he at least pick quiet ones?"

"Chandler, think about it this way: you're a guy, would you rather have a
noisy girl who moans and screams or a girl who sits passively with a bored
look on her face?" Monica asked.

"Point taken and well recieved. Thank you." Chandler said with a roll of his
eyes.

Monica smiled, thinking about how she was always right.

* * * * *

Monica slept restlessly, tossing and turning until around midnight when she
finally gave up and opened her bedroom door to go the kitchen and get some
cleaning supplies. Cleaning would always be there for her -- ready to
distract and soothe her aching body whenever she needed.

She stopped in her tracks when she saw Chandler asleep on the couch and
observed his peaceful face for a minute or two. Finally she edged closer to
the couch, cleaning forgotten.

She couldn't sleep because she was sick and tired of the stupid shower
massager and she needed some hot raunchy sex right then, that night. Her body
had firmly layed down the law that until she got some, sleep would be a thing
of the past.

Monica ran a hand down Chandler's cheek absently and wondered why he suddenly
seemed irristable to her. Every cell in her body wanted to throw herself on
top of him and give him the kind of sex that would make him speachless for
days. (This saying a lot for Chandler who had to make sarcastic comments
about everything.)

Chandler opened his eyes and jumped upon seeing her so close. "What the hell
are you doing?" he demanded angrily.

"Watching you," Monica said softly. The thoughts she'd been entertaining were
quickly pushed to the back of her mind. "Sorry if I scared you."

"It's alright. I should be used to you waking me up in the middle of the
night by staring at me," Chandler grumbled. He sat up though, sleep pushed
aside for the moment. "Why are you awake?"

"Couldn't sleep," Monica answered with a shrug. She turned away from the
couch and into the kitchen. "I was going to clean my room. I guess I
shouldn't ask if you want to help, huh?"

"That would be wise since I never willingly help you clean," Chandler told
her as she moved to the kitchen. He collapsed onto his back and made a sleepy
sigh. "Go to sleep, Monica. Clean only in the sane hours -- when there's
daylight and I'm not trying to sleep on your couch."

"I guess you're right." Monica put the lemon oil she'd grabbed back
underneath the sink and moved to the fridge. After realizing she wasn't
hungry or thirsty she turned to her bedroom and decided to give sleep
another try.

"Good night, Chandler," Monica whispered as she passed the couch and gave
his leg an affectionate pat.

" 'Night, Mon," Chandler answered automatically in a voice that said he was
already half-asleep.

* * * * *

Surprisingly, Monica finally fell asleep . . . only to be woken up a half
hour later by Chandler knocking on the door.

She groaned and called hoarsely for him to come in. "What do you want?" she
demanded grumpily.

"You're blood." Chandler paused. "I shouldn't even *try* to make jokes at
this hour, huh?"

"Sometimes I feel like you shouldn't try to make jokes at any hour," Monica
responded. She sighed and sat up in her bed. "What?"

"I'm tired."

"Go to sleep, then."

"But I want to sleep in a bed," Chandler said a little seductively.

Monica felt a jolt from her stomach to her vagina and a hot flash of liquid
wet herself without her control.

She remembered her thoughts from earlier and met Chandler's eyes to see if
he was really suggesting what she hoped he was. "Take Rachel's bed," she
whispered testily. There was a desperation in her voice, a throaty sound that
gave away what she was thinking.

"Nah, she'll get mad," Chandler said, taking a step forward. He'd recognized
the note in her voice, the note that said she wanted him badly. "Besides, I'm
not so tired anymore. In fact, I think I have a little too much energy stored
up . . . however do you suppose I can get rid of it?"

Monica's breath caught in her throat and she pushed the blankets aside to
make room for Chandler. She grinned at him in fascination. "I don't know,
maybe I could help somehow?" she asked flirtatiously.

"I think you just might be able to," Chandler said as he sat down on the bed.

Monica licked her lips slowly and watched his eyes staring at her lips,
mesmerized. "How might I go about helping you?" she asked in a whisper.
He'd better not back down now. Her body was giving off heat and the sharp
scent of her wetness was filling the air, how could he not realize what she
was thinking and wanting?

But one glance at his very interested crotch made her doubts go floating
away. She put one arm around his neck and kissed him with a raging need that
she didn't recognize. "Chandler," she gasped as they broke apart. He began to
trail hot kisses down her throat. "I need you."

"I need you too," Chandler said with a desperation and need that rang clear
and unmistakable as he rose from her neck to giver her a short kiss on the
lips. "But I think you need me more than I need you," he observed as his hand
went to the elastic of her underwear.

Monica pulled her night gown up off of herself and lifted her hips for
Chandler to pull her panties off so that she lay naked beside him. She rocked
her hips slightly. "What are you going to do about it?"

Chandler smiled and kissed her mouth, then her chin, then little kisses
along her throat and down to the hollow between her breasts. He circled
kisses around each breast and then one long suck on each nipple that left
them rosy and soar before returning to his path down her stomach. She wanted
him to stay at her breasts, but she knew that his original destination would
be much more pleasurable.

When Chandler reached her belly button he ran his tongue inside it briefly,
sending more shockwaves straight to Monica's sex, then he finally reached
the curly hair that hid the lips of her vagina.

Monica knew that the moisture-filled heat coming off of her in waves could
be felt in Chandler's position and looked at his closed eyes as he probably
thought about divulging himself inside her scorching center until both of
them reached their peaks.

Before Monica could think another word, Chandler's thick tongue ran sensuasly
along the inside of her thigh and up into her sex. She felt him probe her
entrance and then push his tongue inside as far as possible only to pull
slowly out and run along her whole sex before slowly carressing her clitoris.

After that point no more thinking went through Monica's brain. She could only
concentrate on the feelings and electricity that were coursing through her
veins and the need to make it all come together in one final moment of
immense pleasure.

She didn't have to wait very much longer. Chandler pulled one arm up to
pinch one of her nipples and the unexpected jolt sent her over the edge and
into the moment of explosions that she'd waited much to long for. Her legs
jerked violently and her hips rose as the feeling of a pleasure too great to
describe blossomed inside of her sex and slowly came to the clamping of her
vaginal muscles and the shaking of her legs.

Chandler pulled away with one last kiss on the dark curly hair before lapping
up the extra juices on his lips and stripping out of his own clothes quickly
in the anticipated moment they both were waiting for.

In an instant he was on top of her and kissing her; his penis poking at her
burning wetness. Instead of waiting for Chandler to take the initiative she
pushed her hips upwards until his penis could go no further inside of her.

The joining of their bodies sent the two into a crazed frenzy and they both
jerked and moved. With all of the groping and moving of the ages, it wasn't
long before Monica felt the familiar tingle start from the middle of her sex
that grew bigger and bigger until it was so painfully voluptous that she
didn't think she could stand another minute of her orgasm, warming her from
head to toe as her blood pumped and her soul soared.

She screamed out his name, her eyes tightly shut, and felt Chandler begin
to shoot his hot liquid inside of her with one last grunt himself.

"Monica!"

Monica's eyes snapped open and as her panting was beginning to cease.
Chandler was no where to be found and she realized through her confusion
that the very real Chandler was only a star in her most recent wet dream. The
scent of her juices permeated the air with a rich, unmistakable smell, and
sweat glistened over her body as if she'd really just had blissful sex with
Chandler.

Chandler burst in the door, looking panicked around the room, as if he half
expected something to jump at him. The panic across his face flashed to
relief as he realized she was alright, then to the same confusion she was
feeling.

"You shouted my name a few seconds ago . . ." Chandler's voice broke off as
the scent in the air and the sweat plastered to her body finally clicked with
the shouting of his name. His eyes widened in shock and his jaw dropped.

Still unsure he asked quietly: "What were you dreaming about, Mon?"

Monica felt her cheeks and neck grow unbearably hot and she wondered if she
was blushing. Her eyes flashed embarassment and she stared intently at her
hands, not able to meet Chandler's eye.

Her silence and the guilty look on her face confirmed Chandler's suspicions.
In truth, he wanted to do his little dance. First Rachel, now Monica! When
was Phoebe going to dream about him?

But Rachel and Phoebe didn't really mattered. Monica was the most prideful.
Monica, his best friend's little sister, the hot raven-haired woman he'd
known since Thanksgiving, Freshman year of college. The woman who he was most
attracted to out of the three girls in their little group.

"Sounded like you were having some fun," Chandler commented with a sardonic
half smile.

Monica met his eyes in anger. Couldn't he see that she wanted to dig a hole
in the ground! That she was already embarassed enough as it was!

"I'm going, I'm going," Chandler said, putting his hands up in the air in
the signal of surrender.

But the look in Chandler's eyes told Monica that the topic was not finished
being discussed, that Chandler wasn't going to drop it, and that she was
going to have to face what happened.

Damn him, she thought to herself as she threw herself backwards on the bed.
Why me? Of all the men in the world and all of the places and time did it
have to happen to me with him when he was sleeping over at my apartment?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Haley J. The Bat's Notes:

If you're smart, you'll realize that this is going to be continued. I know I
have a lot of series right now, but I just have so many ideas.

This prologue had better be good because I revised it three times until I
felt it was absouletely perfect.

That, I realized, is what's wrong with my fic-writing. I *never* revise. I
just write, post it, and when it's up I read it and wince as I see all of my
spelling and grammer errors.

So . . . yeah, that's about it. Oh! And I forgot to thank you all for the
fabulous reviews I've been recieving.
~Haley~