A/N: Joey and Chandler are married with two kids from a surrogate mother. One night, Chandler realizes he may have been neglecting his husband.
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I get home from another long day of work, it's nearly eight o'clock. I walk into the house and it's quiet. I take my coat off and drop my heavy briefcase at the door.
I walk into the kitchen and look in the fridge to find the leftovers from dinner.
I hear footsteps walking down the stairs.
My husband, Joey, walks into the kitchen.
"Hey babe," he says softly.
"Hey hun," I respond and accept his peck on the lips. "The kids asleep?"
"Yeah, just put them down," he answers.
He grabs a beer from the fridge as I take out some of the leftovers to make myself a plate.
"You still hungry?" I ask as he's moving past me, to get out of my way.
"I can always eat more," he replies and I grab a second plate for him.
I put one of the dishes in the microwave and lean against the counter as I wait for the food to head up. I watch Joey sit at the table with his beer. He opens a magazine and starts looking through it.
See, I've been promoted twice at my job. Which of course is great, but recently there was a merger, another company bought my company. So, now we are merging with the new company and I have a new boss, new responsibilities and new pressure at work. It's the reason I'm getting home later and later everyday. I'm exhausted and I'm lucky Joey can stay home and basically be a stay at home dad. I'm lucky to have him, truly, he is so great with our kids. We have two, a boy and girl, twins from a surrogate mother. Joey's an actor, but since my job has been keeping us more than stable, he's rarely goes on auditions these days. I think he prefers being home with the kids, I always tell him if he gets a job we'll get sitters or our friends to help, but he's content being home and I'm happy about it too.
The microwave dings and I grab the plate and hand it to Joey. He thanks me and I go back to heat up mine. When my food finishes I sit down at the table with him and I grab a magazine as well. I open a page and there's an article about keeping the spark alive in a marriage. I hate admitting this, but I actually feel a need to read it. The truth is, there's barely a spark anymore and that's solely thanks to me. I honestly didn't think I would ever get to the point where I stopped having sex with my husband, but we're here. Our sex life started slacking, understandably, the day we brought our beautiful babies home, but it was still in existence. Sex kept becoming less and less frequent especially as I worked more. It was down to once a month for a while, but now it's been two months straight, the longest we've ever gone. I didn't mean for it to get this long, I just work so late and when I'm home I'm either too tired or I'm trying to spend as much time with our children as possible.
When I'm suddenly reminded of our non-existent sex life thanks to this clique article I'm reading, I suddenly start to worry. I'm realizing this is also the longest Joey has ever stopped trying. That was the thing, even when sex was becoming a rare occurrence, Joey never stopped trying... because he's Joey. And regardless, it's understandable for any husband to be asking for sex, but these last two months, not a word from him. I guess I didn't realize because I was always making excuses anyhow. I've officially become the tired wife who is never in the mood.
I finish my plate of food and see Joey has been done with his. I close my magazine and walk around to his chair. He looks up at me. I lean down and kiss his lips, lingering, allowing the kiss to deepen slowly. I remove my lips from his. He stays looking into my eyes. Usually, this is where his eyebrows would wiggle or his lips would curl into a naughty smile and he would try to convince me to get upstairs. I wait for it to happen, but it doesn't.
"You heading up?" he asks and I realize he assumes that was a goodnight kiss. I don't kiss him goodnight like that, that's my romantic kiss, did he forget?
"Yeah, you coming?" I ask him.
"In a bit," he tells me.
Suddenly, I feel so estranged from him, like I haven't seen my husband in weeks, even though I see him everyday. I miss him and he's sitting right in front of me.
"Okay," I whisper and I head upstairs alone.
I get ready for bed like any other night. I change into some comfortable clothes and I'm in the bathroom brushing my teeth when I hear Joey walk in. I watch him through the bathroom doorway as he undresses. He throws on a plain t-shirt and stays in his boxer-briefs as he climbs into bed and clicks on the tv.
I feel a wave of guilt wash over me thinking about all the times I turned him down. My own husband, who I love and I'm still attracted to. I denied him of intimacy for so long he stopped even trying. I need to make it up to him. I feel a sudden extreme need to touch every inch of skin, to satisfy him so completely that just maybe he'll forgive me at least a little for being so unaffectionate and distant lately.
I spit out my toothpaste, swoosh some water around and wipe my mouth. I walk over to the bed. His eyes stay fixated on the tv. I sit on the bed and get under the covers with him.
I look over at him, he's still only watching the screen across the room. I pick up the remote and turn the tv off. Then, I climb over him, still under the covers, and sit on top his lap. He looks up at me, a bit stunned. He stays completely still as I stare back down at him. Two months ago, he never would have sat this still. He would have flipped me over or pulled me into a playfully kiss. Now, he stays sitting, looking up at me, like we've never done this... just waiting for me.
I lean down immensely slow and I press my lips against his. After a moment, he does kiss me back, which at least settles my anxiety that he hates me for a few moments. I pause the kiss, keeping my forehead pressed against his. His hands haven't even moved, usually his hands are always on me or he wraps his arms around me. How have I gone this long without noticing how much had changed?
I bring my hands to his face and run them gently down his temples to his jaw line. I pick my head back up so I can see him again. We both say nothing.
I lean down and press my lips to his temple. Then I move to his cheek, his jaw, his neck. I linger on each placement of my lips on his skin. I slowly start pulling his shirt up until it's trapped under his arms. I look at him and he lifts his arms so I can remove his shirt.
Maybe this is his punishment for me, keeping distant and quiet as I'm finally opening back up to him. It's okay if it is, I need to make up for all the lost time, I don't even deserve anything right now. I only want to give him as much pleasure and relief as possible.
I lean down and claim his lips again as my hands carefully graze over the soft skin of his chest. I start to feel something press up underneath me and realize he's getting hard. I honestly feel relieved I can still turn him on and now I know for sure he at least wants this on some level.
I decide to celebrate this small victory by slipping my tongue into his mouth. He starts reciprocating this more keenly and it excites me to know he is enjoying this decision.
His fingertips finally find their way to my knees... at least it's a start. He lightly digs his fingertips into my lower thighs as he continues to show appreciation for this french kiss.
Maybe he wasn't punishing me, maybe he was only waiting to see how much would really happen... if all of this was actually occurring.
I run my hands through the back of his hair, wondering why I was never in the mood for this these past two months.
I push my hips back and finally pull back from his mouth. He doesn't fight this and again watches me with his lips left puckered. I move my hips back even more so I can slide down his body. He's watching me so intently. I spread his legs apart so I can settle in between them. I've never seen him so still, so submissive before. Although, it makes me feel guilty, it also turns me on, having this much control.
I press my palms flat on his thighs and glide them up to his underwear. I see his chest starting to rise and fall more significantly. I guide my palms right to his growing erection. I grip the bulging outline of his erection and stroke him through the fabric. I finally reach inside and take a firm hold of him. I pull out his hardening cock. I bring the tip to my mouth, remembering how much I used to love doing this, how I used to love to make him feel so good and the moans it used to evoke from him. I put the tip in my mouth. I slowly push my lips down, first only half way. I keep a firm grip on the base as I slide my mouth down the full way. I pull back up and slowly glide my hand back up, circling my thumb over the swollen head as I hear a crippled moan from him. Again, guilt sneaks back in as I remember I haven't heard that sound in far too long, knowing it's all my fault. I stroke him again with a tight grip and then move my mouth to his balls. I suck and caress each one, refusing to let go of him as I do. I feel him start to squirm and I come back up to get him back in my mouth. I start to suck his throbbing cock at a steady rate. As much as I love making him feel good this way, I don't want to just blow him when I've robbed him of sex for too long.
I slide my mouth off him and finally look back at him. His head is thrown against the headboard, with his eyes shut. I sit up to slide my underwear down. I straddle him, sitting in front of his needy cock so it's rests straight up against the base of my spine. I lean foward to claim his lips again. His returned kisses are now breathy and desperate. I know how badly he wants a release and I want nothing more than to give it to him.
I keep him distracted with my lips as I attempt to reach over to the nightstand, trying to open the draw and find lubrication. Unfortunately, this move isn't as smooth as I would hope, being that I'm siting on top of him and leaning sideways at the same time. He pulls back to look and see what I'm attempting to multi-task, so I turn and rummage through the drawer to find what I need. I prep my hole while still planted on top of him. He watches me, again seemingly in awe of the events happening. His hand suddenly reaches for my burning election, to give me a turn, but I swat away his hand and he face flashes surprise at me. I kiss him again, hoping to distract him from that idea.
I need this to be for him, this is what he deserves, I don't want to waste anytime solely focused on me. He, of course, can't understand this and as my lips brush over every inch of his, I feel his hand glide up my thigh to reach for me again. I pull his wrist away and lift my hips up and back, ready to finally give him some relief.
"Chandler," he breathes out, thrown by my unusual actions.
I ignore him and position myself over his swollen cock. I carefully slide down onto him, letting him fill me up completely. He forgets trying to fight me as his eyes squeeze shut and his head tilts back again.
I rock my hips back and forth, slowly at first. Again, his hands don't reach for me, but he's also probably overwhelmed with everything he's feeling since it's been a while. I steadily pick up the pace and lean foward, holding onto his shoulders. He finally latches on to me, digging his fingertips into my back which only makes me ride him faster. He grunts out a pained sound with this accelerated pace. I don't ease up and keep riding him faster. I'm biting my lip trying to hold back any moans, but deep moans are coming from the back of Joey's throat.
"Wait, wait," he suddenly chokes out in a whisper, trying to stay quiet. I slow down and his hands fall to my hips as I sit up to look at him.
"Don't you wanna slow down?" he asks.
I realize he probably is getting close, too close, and he thinks it's too soon, but I don't want him to worry about me or trying to hold back. I only want him to finally release all the pent up sexual frustration I cause him for two months now. I want him to explode so hard and fast, he can't feel his legs. But I oblige for a moment and start slowly circling my hips around his cock. He breathes in a sharp breath, watching my hips circle. I take a hold of his hands and peels them off my hips so he can't stop my next move. I lean foward and hold his wrists captive under my hands on the bed. Then, I go off and start riding him fast and hard until his back is arching and his neck is stretching back. I let his wrists go and frame his face with my hands. I kiss him desperately.I let his lips go. His fingers start clawing at the sheets.
"Chan-Chandler-" he pants out, probably trying to warn me. He's about to explode, I can tell. I don't listen to his warning cries and keep a dangerously fast pace until he's writhing under me.
He's holding back, I can tell.
"Let go," I whisper and I still don't slow down until he finally can't hold back anymore and his entire body convulses, sending him into a full orgasm.
I feel him shooting into me, I wrap my arms around his body as I finally slow my pace and he releases everything into me. I halt my hips as his body is still going through an intense aftershock, probably from trying to hold back so much. I carefully slide off him and lay my body down on top of his. I kiss his neck as he's still reeling back to reality. I keep kissing his neck until I feel his chest finally start to calm under mine. I won't stop kissing him, I love him so much, I can't stop wanting to make him feel as good as possible.
His fingers falls into my hair and I slow my kisses down. He's still breathing heavier than normal as I pick my head up and kiss his temple. He looks at me. He looks like he wants to say something, but doesn't know how to start.
"I'm sorry," I finally say to him.
His eyebrows knit together.
"Why?" he questions me.
"I neglected you, I... got too caught up in work and... I'm just sorry," I confess.
He stares at me.
"I love you," he breathes and that's the only response I ever needed.
"I love you so much, I'm sorry," I repeat again.
"Chandler, stop," he says.
I look at him and he runs his hand down my face, rubbing his thumb over my cheekbone.
"I was never mad at you," he tells me.
I don't know how to respond, I don't want to fight with him, but I can't say I can believe that even if I want to.
He suddenly flips me over and ends up on top of me.
"No, I don't want to," I sharply cut him off.
He looks completely surprised once more.
"What?"
"I needed to do that for you, I don't want this to be for me," I tell him.
He holds back a smirk.
"You're still hard," he points out the obvious.
"I know, it's fine, I'll-" I start, but he cuts me off.
"Shut up," he says.
"Joey-" I try again.
"Hey, you want to make it up to me? Let me make my husband feel good. I love doing that just as much too," he smiles an incredible smile and I let him lean down and kiss me.
He begins to leave wet kisses all over my skin as his body slides down mine. I give up trying to stop him. I am burning in arousal with a raging hard-on after all. I don't have much self control at this point. He takes me into his mouth and I instantly moan out. I wasn't planning on orgasming into his mouth tonight, but it's where things end up. I bury my face against the pillow as Joey crawls back up me and wraps his arms around my shaking body.
We lay curled in each other's arms. I finally stop apologizing or trying to rectify my behavior. I only needed to ignore my wonderful husband once to realize it's never happening again.