Day One: Up Against The Window


I can't stop smiling. When was the last time I felt this happy?

Was it for the few weeks I was dating Kathy? It can't be. It never felt this right, this natural or this hot. Maybe before my parents divorced? I can't even remember. I'm trying to grasp the reason behind this elation.

I know if feels special because it's her.

Deep down I always knew sex would be good with Monica. I'm a guy, I can't help it―of course, I imagined it, dreamed of it. Not only is she smoking hot and temperamental, but I've known her for so long. The mind wanders … What I didn't count on was how much fun it would be. Truthfully, I never thought sex could be this fun before. How spontaneous it could be, how much I'd enjoy the challenge of keeping up with her.

We've been doing this for months and at first, keeping it a secret was a necessity. This thing between us, unnamed and palpable, so very new and fragile, had to be protected from gossip, from angry brothers, from jokes and mockery but now … The thrill of secrecy is making the sex so much hotter, it's putting my dirtiest magazines to shame.

Monica is insatiable and I can never get enough of her. It seems the thinner the line we're threading, the hotter the sex is and the more she wants me.

No one ever wanted me so much. It's a thrill in itself.

We're lying on the couch, in the middle of her living room. We've locked the door just in case―we're not that reckless―and we're basking in the glow of another round of sex. I can't believe I just had sex with Monica on the floor of her living room, on her couch, on top of the desk by the window, right up against the window. I must have died and woken up in heaven.

She loves this and seems to thrive in these situations. We've had sex in the closet of the coffeehouse, in the storage room of her restaurant, in my office. Sex against the window isn't even the kinkiest sex we've had so far but somehow, it feels different.

When Ross noticed Ugly Naked Guy was moving out, I mentioned to Monica that I always wondered what sex on her balcony would be like, but it was too late if her brother lived across the building. She suggested we should have sex now in the apartment just in case he gets the place, so that we don't have regrets.

Bless her deliciously wicked mind. It's fair to say I was instantly ready for action.

I have a confession to make. We've had desk sex, drunk sex on the first night, phone sex, video-taped sex, but recently … I have a feeling we've been having I'm falling for you sex.

I look down at her and there's a dreamy look on her face, her eyes are closed. She looks so calm and relaxed. During sex, she is incredibly hot―the way she moves and talks and responds drives me crazy… sensual and fused one moment, fiery and explosive the next. And when it's over, she's nonchalant and unabashedly unwound.

"Hey," I call as I make sure my breath is tickling her neck and she turns to look up at me.

"Hey," she says back and grins at me with that war-stopping smile. Who am I kidding? I am definitely falling for her.

"I'm sorry this was more desperate screwing than lovemaking," I say.

"You'll hear no complaints from me."

I lean to kiss her. Slowly and deeply. Not our first kiss, not our last but I can feel this emotion again, and it's been overwhelming lately. I want to say something, but I don't want this to be over. I am her boyfriend and she is my girlfriend, but we are secret boyfriend and secret girlfriend, and I don't know the rules for when someone catches feelings in a situation like this. Should I say what I'm feeling for her? What I'm feeling but am incapable to put into words because it is too strong, too pure and I don't want to scare her off and I don't want this to end if she doesn't feel the same way.

Her hands come to my face so she can tilt me and press herself against me carefully, and that's enough for all the million thoughts running in my head to stop.

"I need to tell you some things," I say earnestly.

She opens her eyes and examines my face. "Me too," she says with a small smile, and I know what we feel, we must feel together at the same time. It's oddly comforting and calming. Like we don't need words and we don't need to rush things. She is there, and I am there with her. She is not leaving and I am staying.

"Let's say things afterward, shall we?" I correct myself.

She nods and chuckles. "After we christen every piece of furniture?"

"You up for it?"

"What do you think?" she says with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "But we need to make sure we're undisturbed and we're fully stocked, I'm kind of hungry, aren't you?"

"I am," I say, trying to come up with a solution on the spot. I don't want to lose momentum. "How about I make a quick trip to the coffeehouse, get us coffee and muffins?"

"You're so efficient!"

She gets up and reaches for her robe and I do the same, trying to find my scattered shirt and pants around.

I dress quickly and she walks with me to the door. "Be quick, I'll be waiting for you."

I smile and something takes over me. I wrap an arm around her and pin her against the door to kiss her hard and rough. She kisses me back with a tenderness and a fierceness that I know now comes from her whole heart, I feel it too. Even when I tried to hold back, I've always given all of myself to her.

I open the door and look at her one last time before heading downstairs.

I do know why I am so happy; life is better when we're together.


A/N

The summary says it all. Now, I don't want to say this isn't good because I wouldn't post something I wouldn't read myself, but it's more free-flowing, therapeutic writing, in the first person (a first!), so maybe a little less polished than what I usually write. I hope you'll enjoy this.

Thanks for reading!