It wasn't that big of a secret that Chandler liked dominant women.
Well, sexually speaking, that is. Maybe he liked bossy women beyond that realm too, but he wasn't sure of it yet.
He wasn't the type of guy who got laid very often – despite living in a constant state of horniness, he was too awkward to make it work the way he wanted to. Also, he felt like he was too inadequate in bed. Perhaps, that was why he enjoyed being with women who took the dominating role so much. When everything was up to his will and he had to take the lead, he would get all sweaty and bumpy, feel anxious and, sometimes, be on the verge of a breakdown. When the woman he was sleeping with took charge though, it was heaven. She could boss him around and he would be totally fine with it, and much calmer too, since he would be completely sure that she was having her way and enjoying the whole thing.
And it wasn't good only for her; he liked the whole thing too. Being slapped, being ordered around, kneeling in front of her, getting his hair pulled back – once he even had kissed a girl's feet and had enjoyed doing so!
Okay, this makes it sound like he had many bossy women ordering him around in bed but the truth was: all his experience of sleeping with a kinky, dominant woman had actually happened only once, with a lady named Joanna. She was Rachel's boss – an almost comic version of a soap opera villain; that one bitch who, by having too much power, made everybody's life a living hell. The first time he went out with her, he'd been uninterested to the point of never wanting to see her again. When he'd bumped into her out of nowhere a year later – and he'd been too lonely and too horny to turn down her invitation for a coffee –, they had been able to take the relationship to the next level. It had only been one night but, boy, what a night it had been. He'd felt like his body had been thoroughly used, and he'd loved every second of it. And then, the following day, she had handcuffed him to her office chair and just left him there. That part, he had to admit, hadn't been that exhilarating – he was sure that had it taken place in his bedroom, he would have enjoyed it way more.
All the women who had come before her had been somehow bossy too – well, here comes the misleading sentence structure again; not plural, there were no women. There was just Janice. Way more traditional, but still totally in the mood of taking charge in the bedroom, Janice had always had her way when it had come to sex, and Chandler sometimes thought that that was the reason why their relationship had lasted so long (barely four months, but that was still a personal record for him).
Chandler had been lonely for a while when he'd had sex with Joanna, and even though he internally knew that they would never work out together, he already missed her. He wasn't infatuated or anything; it's just that finding another woman to sleep with him would be hard enough, and finding a dominant one could make the quest even more difficult.
That night, as they were playing cards at apartment 20, Chandler ventured into forbidden territory as his mind was cramped with musings about his three favorite women in the world and their sexual preferences.
He wasn't really picturing himself having sex with them, but just... wondering... how bossy they were in the bossy-o-meter when it came to the bedroom. First of all, he thought of Phoebe and internally grimaced, trying to erase any image his mind's eye had pictured by accident. Somehow, everything that mixed "sex" and "Phoebe" sounded too scary for him. He wasn't attracted to her at all, and, more than that, he was absolutely terrified of actually knowing about her sexual endeavors.
Then, there was Rachel. If he wanted to, Chandler could totally picture himself having sex with her – he had always found her attractive. As hot as she was though, Chandler couldn't really give it much thought. Any prospect of a romantic or sexual relationship with her sounded absurd. He assumed she would be that kind of girl who was too passive, probably taking her spoiled princess attitude to the bedroom, and waiting for the guy to always take the lead. That was fine, obviously. It just wasn't that interesting to him for it didn't match his own preferences. He would probably feel more insecure than ever if he ever slept with Rachel.
Last but never least, there was Monica. Chandler was very much attracted to her since forever – he was sure that everybody, including her, knew about that. I mean, how could I not? She was beyond hot, she was the hottest. And this was not only about appearance – even though he had always found her the most beautiful woman he had ever met, she was hot because she had the whole package. Everybody knew that she was fairly experienced in bed, plus she seemed to have a variety of kinks – Chandler could never forget the day she'd been giddy for having videotaped her sexual encounter with her then boyfriend Pete. Being that openly kinky made her look like a person who liked to experiment things. The cherry on top was her control freak behavior. She was so so bossy. She was bossy in every aspect of her life. Being like that in real life, so avid in having utmost control of everything, made him picture her being the most dominant girl ever – almost like a dominatrix, probably way bossier than Joanna could ever be (while, at the same time, being way more interesting too for the non-sex part).
Chandler sometimes wished he could, just once, have sex with Monica. That was probably something he would want for the rest of his life. Well, I guess that will never happen, but a guy can dream.
And dreaming he did. He had dreamed of her so many times it was almost embarrassing – especially because he had enjoyed every dream way too much.
He was too tired that day – was it work? Was it the crushing pain of loneliness? He couldn't know. As soon as he plopped down on his mattress, he drifted off. What felt like seconds later, he woke up again but found himself tied up to a bed. He wasn't sure if that was his bed, or even if he was in his room. He was blindfolded too, and completely naked. Before panic took over, he realized he was in a dream.
Oh, great, am I going to be tortured or something?
No torture, nope, not at all, he thought as he suddenly felt soft fingertips caress his chest and a pair of thighs straddling his hips. He was going to have a wet dream and he was definitely happy about it – being that happy about wet dreams sounded lame, but who cares? He didn't.
The woman (he hoped it was a woman) was obviously playing along with his biggest fantasy: having sex with a bossy, dominant lady who ties men up and blindfolds them. For a second, he wondered if the unreal woman would take Joanna's face to make his oneiric experience more real.
"Hey, Chandler", the voice was too close to his ear, the woman's breath hot against his skin, and he shivered all over (and probably groaned way too loud too).
The reason? Well, that was Monica's voice.
He could feel her ass over his groin and, to make things worse, she was swaying her hips terribly slowly.
Yeah, maybe it is torture after all.
"A little excited, aren't we?" she said against his ear, letting out a giggle while her left hand reached behind her to lightly tap on his penis. He always knew that Gellers couldn't be trusted.
"Aren't y-you, um, going to take off the blindfold?", he somehow could predict the negative answer but he had to take a shot – more than anything, he wanted to see the woman above him.
"And spoil all the fun?" Her fingers pinched his nipples, and he grunted. "Nope, don't think so."
He wasn't able to move, that was pretty hot. There was Monica's ass rubbing on his dick, that was great too. But then there was that damn blindfold which denied him the view of what he assumed to be the most heavenly sight in the universe. Somehow, he stopped caring about his frustration when he felt a tongue licking his neck while slender fingers still played with his nipples and a firm, small, round ass pressed against his dick. Monica's tongue created a wet trail from under his earlobe, to his collarbones, then up again to his jawline. Then, her soft lips started leaving small pecks onto his cheeks, slowly inching to his mouth. That's when the most amazing kiss that he was ever given happened. In the back of his mind, he ridiculed himself for enjoying so much a kiss that wasn't even real but he consoled himself at the same time by using his strong belief that if he ever had the opportunity to kiss Monica in real life it would be the best thing ever – well, they had shared drunken kisses before, and those don't really count, but they had been great already.
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