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Friends: The Comatose Boyfriend

By: Dudeman85



Friends: Deleted Scenes - The Comatose Boyfriend

Author's Note: Once again, I find myself apologizing for the length of time since my last submission. Unfortunately, life has many demands. But I trust that this story, which is actually three scenes, will make up for the wait.

This story line was suggested by an anonymous reader. I hope that person sends me an e-mail, so I can give a note of personal thanks.

Please keep the suggestions and comments coming. I am working on more scenes to share, and your kind words keep me going.

Last, I'm certain there are good writers among those who read my stories. Especially given how long it's been taking me to finish each one, I'd like to encourage some of you to also write Friends fiction. It's really quite fun, and I know the rest of us would love to read your work!

----

The sandy-haired stranger lay in the hospital bed. The two women who were with him had unintentionally put him there. They had distracted him as he walked through an intersection, and they watched in horror as he was hit by an ambulance. Sad and ironic; yet for him, quite fortunate. His physical injuries were minimal, but he hadn't yet regained consciousness. 

Monica, who sat next to the bed reading the paper, had been the direct cause with her enthusiastic, though very poorly timed, "Woo-woo!" Phoebe, who had goaded her friend into the Negligent Woo-wooing, stood at the end of the bed, arranging flowers.

"I wish there was something we could do for him," Monica said woefully, as she folded the newspaper.

"Yeah, me too..." Phoebe agreed, then exclaimed a moment later, "Oo! Maybe... maybe I could, ya know, massage him back to the Land of the Awake People!"

Monica gave her a dubious look. "You think massage will bring him out of a coma?"

"Well, it's not like Western Medicine has helped him. And, and maybe he just needs some positive energy flowing into his body," she explained with broad gestures.

Her friend laughed, gently. "Okay, Pheebs. Have at it."

Phoebe walked around to the other side of the bed. "Oh, but you keep reading to him. That way he, like, hears a friendly voice, and, and ya know, he walks toward it... y'know, back to his body."

"All right," Monica replied, slowly and skeptically. "Well... I've already read the Times... I just have my book with me."

"Oh. Well, read that, then," Phoebe encouraged.

"Okay," Monica said, more from an intent simply to humor Phoebe, rather than in agreement with her idea. She pulled out the paperback, and found her book-marked place. "Let's see... 'Chapter Six - Loving Your Vagina'..."

The two women locked eyes as the title sunk in.

"I, I guess that chapter is, um, must be about, you know, feeling comfortable with your sexuality," Monica explained, with a noticeable lack of comfort, then she rapidly went on. "Okay, Chapter SEVEN."

Looking up and down the man's body, Phoebe commented with a lustful tone, "Yeah, but I'd like to teach HIM how to love my vagina."

Monica ignored her. "Um, okay, this one is 'Exorcising Your Mother Inside You'..."

Phoebe began to ask, "What, are all the chapters-"

Her friend interrupted her. "Well, it's a, a women's self-help book, okay? Just gimme a second. There's got to be something in here to read to him..." She continued leafing through the pages. "Oh! How about this one? 'Chapter Ten - Breaking Through Your Man's Shell.'"

"Ooo, yeah... That's good! 'Cuz he's WAY deep in his, like, REALLY THICK shell," Phoebe said expressively.

As Monica began to read, the blonde masseuse picked up one of the man's hands and began to rub the muscles of his fingers and palm. She moved from his hand up his forearm and bicep, kneading the muscles to relax them, and silently noting how big his bicep was in her hands. Then she moved to his other arm, as the comforting tone of Monica's voice filled the room.

Gradually, Phoebe came to massage his temples, then moved down to his neck, and slowly, further down to his shoulders and chest. Her fingertips were treated to the feel of the man's muscular torso.

"Well, well, we do work out, don't we?" Phoebe asked the unconscious man, though not realizing she had said the words out loud.

Monica broke from her text, and paused. "Really?" she asked with a shy little smile.

"Oh hell, yeah! Here... touch his chest," Phoebe offered.

Monica hesitated. Certainly it might be fine for Phoebe, a masseuse, to touch the unknown, unconscious man. But for Monica to do it... it just seemed to violate a social boundary. "Um, no... no, thanks... I'll just, um, read," she replied.

"Suit yourself," the blonde said, as she continued rubbing the man's chest.

Monica kept reading, and Phoebe kept massaging. As her firm, feminine touch moved over the man's body, his arms and neck and chest and stomach, she was unaware of the slow, steady hardening of his penis. Then her therapeutic attention traveled downward to his thighs and her sight caught the obvious bulge in his crotch.

"Oh! Oh! He's waking up!" she said excitedly.

"He is?" Monica asked, jumping up from her seat, and searching his face for signs of awareness.

"Not up there," her friend chided. "Look! Down here."

Following this direction, Monica's eyes moved downward and she saw the now-quite-obvious tent in the bedclothes.

"See? He's coming out of the coma," the blonde proclaimed. "Quick! Go get the doctor."

Monica chuckled at the absurdity of the request. "Right. And what am I supposed to say? 'Um, Doctor? We think that guy is coming out of his coma. How do I know? Oh, well, my friend was massaging him... and well, he got a hard-on.'"

The blonde stared at her dispassionately, then spoke. "And your point is?"

"My point is that the hospital probably wouldn't like you massaging a comatose man, who you've never met."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Phoebe said grudgingly, as she stared at the erection. After a few seconds of thought and silence, she said, "You wanna see what it looks like?"

Monica voiced her name in protest. "PHOEBE!"

"Tell me you don't want to see what it looks like. Tell me you're not the least bit curious," came the challenge.

Monica managed to lie. "No, I'm not. I, I don't... want to see... it." 

"Okay... now tell me honestly," the blonde replied, calling her bluff.

"Look, we should probably just go," her friend said, trying to avoid the whole topic. She packed away her book and reached for her jacket.

"But we can't just leave him like this."

"Leave him like what?"

"Well, all... hard, and aroused, and... TENSE."

"And what do you propose we do?" Monica asked, knowing she didn't want to hear the answer.

"Well, maybe we can, y'know, give him a hand."

"Let me get this straight... You want to molest an unconscious man, so he'll cum, and his hard-on will go away."

Phoebe replied cautiously, "'Molest' is such a dirty-sounding word."

"Okay," Monica paused before rattling off a series of alternates. "Molest. Fondle. Grope. Masturbate. Jack off. Spank the monkey! Any of these words even APPROACHING an appropriate activity for this situation?"

"No," came the grudging reply, "no. Yes, I know... you're right. We just... that's just... okay, we can't. Okay? Happy?"

Monica took on a more accepting tone. "Y'know, Pheebs, it would be different if he was... well... 'un-comatose'. But with him like this, we just can't, 'k?"

"Yeah, you're right. Maybe we should just go."

"That would probably be best," Monica agreed.

The girls put on their coats and left the room; walking down the hall, and taking the elevator to ground level. They went down the street to the subway station, and as they approached it, Phoebe spoke.

"Oh, no," she said in her characteristic Phoebe-esque way. "I forgot my guitar." She tried to fake a laugh at her supposed forgetfulness.

"Phoebe," Monica began with a stern tone, "you're not just going back to do stuff to that guy, are you?"

"No! No, not at all. You were right. We can't do 'that' to him. I just need to go get my guitar. 'Cuz, I play tomorrow at the coffee house."

Monica stared at her with wariness for a few moments. Then satisfied with her friend's promise, she moved on. "Okay, well, I have to get back and change for tonight. Don't forget, we're meeting Chandler's mom at that Mexican restaurant. 6:30, 'k? I'll call your machine and leave directions."

"Got it. I'll just go and grab my guitar. And... I'll see you there."

As her friend walked away, Phoebe got a little grin and pulled her hand out of her jacket pocket. She looked at the crossed fingers. "SUCH a handy thing," she said to herself.

Minutes later, the blonde entered the hospital room. Her eyes immediately went to the unconscious man's loins. The tent was smaller, though his lingering stiffness was obvious.

Her hand went to the bulge, rubbing its length. "See? I told Monica you needed my help," she said, receiving no response... not that she expected any.

Phoebe's gaze slowly went up his body, eventually resting upon his gentle, handsome face. As she watched for a reaction, which she secretly hoped wouldn't come, her hand moved down and across the man's thigh.

It slipped beneath the thin blanket and sheet at the side of the bed, and for the first time, her fingertips touched the bare skin of his leg. They traced along his defined, though relaxed, quads.

"Oh yeah, you do work out," she said, giving an unacknowledged complement. "Nice... VERY nice!"

Her hand glided upward, under his short hospital smock... and inside the leg hole of his boxers. Phoebe's shortly-trimmed nails gently scraped across his sack. It was nice and tight, giving additional evidence of the comatose man's arousal. Her fingers tracing the features of his genitals, like a woman deprived of sight. She caressed his scrotum for a little while, before reaching further up, and touching his erect penis and feeling his smooth skin.

"Mmm... soft..." she purred. Phoebe's non-therapeutic genital massage grew the hardness of the man's member. She enjoyed the feel of the long stiff cock under her palm. But soon, it wasn't enough to just touch him.

The blankets were tucked in around his chest, however, a few seconds later, they were pulled down to the man's knees.

"I, I hope you won't be too cold, or anything," Phoebe said. "But I'm pretty sure I can warm you up... well, you know, at least the part that counts!"

With this, the bottom of the hospital gown was pushed up to his stomach. Phoebe pulled down the waistband of his boxers, hooking it under his balls. As soon as it was free, the man's cock sprung up to full attention.

Phoebe's eyes got wide at the sight of the large member. "Oh! It's everything I hoped for," she gushed, as though expressing thanks for an extravagant gift.

"Okay," she explained matter-of-factly to the sleeping man. "I don't have a lot of time, so I'm just gonna help you... you know... get unhard. But maybe... maybe sometime we can get together and I can show you what I'm REALLY good at... y'know, sexually and stuff."

Her hand wrapped loosely around the man's dick, and she began slowly stroking it up and down, enjoying the softness of the skin. In time, her grip tightened; just enough that the skin began moving with her hand. With several strokes, the penis was again stiff as a board.

She paused her jacking, and simply held it, admiring its size and features. She caressed the fleshy head with her fingertips, and it flinched involuntarily. Phoebe giggled, and repeated the stimulation. "Now I know ONE thing you like."

Her hand slowly rubbed it, as she considered what else she should do for him. She knew she could just masturbate him until he came, but...

She addressed the man as he lay there, exposed. "Okay. The first thing you should know about me is that I'm a vegetarian. But, y'know, don't worry, 'cuz that doesn't include THIS kind of meat. No. Actually, I LIKE a nice... y'know... FIRM... piece of man-meat in my mouth," she finished with an intense, desirous tone.

Before the heart monitor could sound its next beep, Phoebe's lips were wrapped around his dick. "Mmm," she gave a little moan, pleased with the size of the head. She gave a couple of sloppy sucks before commenting with full mouth, "Vewry nifce!"

Her head fell and rose a few times, turning slightly each time, so her tongue could feel him from different angles. Soon, the upper two-thirds of his shaft shone with her saliva. She pulled off and smacked her lips.

Her hand jacked him, moving the wetness down the pole. She put her mouth back on it, sucking sloppily for just a few seconds. This was followed by a little more rubbing... a little more sucking... and the cock was quickly moistened all the way to its base.

"Okay, like, I know you can't have, ya know, the FULL Phoebe Experience," she addressed him, "but, just think of this as, like... a sample. Ooo! Or an appetizer. I know Monica's the chef, and all... but, just remember that PHOEBE is the one who can, ya know... satisfy your sexual... like... HUNGER."

The erotic intensity of her words was soon followed-up with matching passion in her blowjob. Amid these actions, her cute green and burgundy hat fell off her noggin, and rolled off the opposite side of the bed. Her long golden locks cascaded across his stomach and thighs. The way they moved slightly with her head motions, softly caressing his skin, they probably would have tickled him, if he had been awake.

She ran her fingers through a stray wave of hair that fell across her forehead and face, pulling it up and out of the way. Phoebe glanced at the man's face; his cock still in her mouth. Seeing no reaction at one head, she determined to get one from the other.

Phoebe filled her mouth over and over with the thick piece of flesh. She felt her nipples harden, as she serviced the stranger. The thought that, no matter how unlikely, he might stir at any moment was quite thrilling to her. The beeping of the monitor quickened slightly, as the man's body responded to the stimulation.

Soft little moans of encouragement came from below, enticing the man to either awaken... or ejaculate. Better yet, to do both. But, even if the first didn't happen, Phoebe was sure she could bring on the second.

As she straightened up, her mouth separated from his cock. She tossed her long hair over her shoulder with a flip of her head and hand. Phoebe stroked him rapidly, as she teased him in her little pornstar voice.

"Do you like that?... huh? Come on, baby. Wake up and tell me what to do... I'll do anything you want... and I mean, AN-Y-THING..." 

One fist rested above the other, as she vigorously masturbated the sleeping man. 

"No? Still shy? Well, how 'bout you just cum for Phoebe? Can you do that, big boy? Can you cum for mama?"

An instant later, her lips were back on his cock. She sucked the head as she continued jacking him with one hand. The other slipped down, and caressed his ballsack.

Noticing that the spit-bath had evaporated from his skin, Phoebe paused her hand and quickly licked the full length of his shaft all around, once again coating him.

"Come on, baby... come for Phoebe," she muttered between licks.

Her mouth enveloped the head, and her hand flattened at the base of his shaft, pulling the skin tight. Her head bobbed up and down rapidly on the cock. Her mind egged him on to climax. The beeps sounded at a faster pace, with his heart signaling his response to Phoebe's cock-sucking.

"You can do it," she tried to tell him telepathically. "You can cum... Cum, baby... Cum for Pheebs..." Her lips jacked him off as fast as she could, as her mind continued speaking to him. "That's it... You're getting close, aren't you? Cum, baby, it'll feel good... it'll feel good when you cum..."

As if in obedience to her commands, the cock thrashed against her lips. A split second later, Phoebe felt a spurt of hot liquid strike the back of her throat.

"MM!" Her exclamation was muffled by her full mouth. "Mm hmm... Mm hmm..."

Phoebe's hand resumed rapidly jacking him off. Her head moved in sync with her fist. His penis throbbed strongly in her mouth, as it dispensed stream after stream of cum; drenching her tongue and coating her mouth. Phoebe's eyes widened when she realized how much jizz she got in just the first few spurts. 

She swallowed quickly, readying her mouth to receive more of the man's sperm. His body fulfilled that expectation, firing a few more shots into her warm welcoming mouth.

Hair still bobbing with her oral activity, she looked out of the corner of her eye, to see if he was perhaps awake and enjoying this. But to her disappointment, the handsome stranger was still deep in his coma.

The squirting began to die down, and Phoebe sucked the head, coaxing out as much cum as he could give. 

When she knew he was empty, Phoebe swallowed again, then playfully licked across the ridge under his head. She giggled as his cock flinched against her face, and this enticed her to do it a couple more times.

Then with a tone of disappointment, she stood and said, "I'm sorry. I have to go. I wish I could stay... actually, I wish I could stay AND you were awake ... but, just, wake up soon, 'k? 'Cuz, I'll do that for you all over again... and more!"

Phoebe noticed the beeping of the monitor was slowing to normal. She returned his underwear to it's position, and pulled down his hospital gown.

After tucking him in with the blankets, she retrieved her hat, but paused before putting it on. A quick hug, and a kiss to his cheek, and Phoebe crossed to the door. She returned her chapeau to its place, and with a little wave, she said, "Bye... see you soon. Wake up, ok?"

The dinner at the Mexican restaurant went by rather uneventfully, with the exception of Ross secretly kissing Chandler's hot blonde MILF of a mom. But Phoebe and Monica were unaware of that, and in fact, Monica was completely unsuspecting of Phoebe's new secret.

The next evening, Monica was shopping at Bloomingdales. She was alone, since Phoebe was playing, and Rachel was waitressing. As she walked past the men's' department, she spotted a display of pajamas. Her mind immediately went to the man, laying in bed in that horrendous patient's smock.

Earlier that day, she and Phoebe had dropped off a nice big fake potted plant, to add an "organic, y'know, like, life-flow," as Phoebe put it, to the room. While there, Monica noticed again how the garment gave an impression of true illness to a man who wasn't really sick, just not awake.

"He'll be more comfortable in these," she said to herself, disregarding the thought that he wouldn't even be aware of the difference. She pulled out a package of deep blue PJs, which she thought would match his eyes, and after paying for them, Monica left for the hospital.

As she walked into the room that late evening, a short, matronly nurse in her early 60s was tending to the man. She addressed Monica, "I'm sorry, dear. You'll need to leave in just a few minutes. Visiting hours are almost over."

"Oh," she replied, with voice and visage that conveyed her disappointment. "Okay. I just haven't seen him all day, so-"

"Are you family, dear?"

Monica began to laugh off the question, but then her face changed to reflect hope and promise. She said, both to the nurse and herself, "Maybe someday."

The nurse smiled at her dreamy expression. "Well, I know how that goes - waiting for your man to 'pop the question'. My Harold took his sweet old time, that's for certain. Three years before he proposed."

Monica quickly tried to change the subject, rather than further the impression that she was the unconscious man's girlfriend. She reached into the shopping bag and retrieved her gift. "I just bought him some new pajamas, so maybe-" She was going to suggest that the nurse change his clothes, but once again, she was jovially interrupted.


Friends: The Comatose Boyfriend



"Oh my, what a lovely blue. Yes, a lot of people just hate to see their loved ones in an ugly old hospital gown. I think it would be all right for him to wear those. I just gave him his sponge-bath, so why don't you go ahead and put them on him." She gestured to the pajamas that the pretty young brunette held.

Monica's mouth hung open with an attempted protest, but the nurse rambled on as she reached up and silenced the heart monitor. "Oh, and let's just quiet that for you, all right? That annoying 'beep, beep, beep'. Why have it on, if his life's not in danger, I say. But these doctors want to use all their fancy equipment."

The woman continued chattering, as she headed for the door, walking past a stunned faux-fiancee. "I'll just leave you two alone for a while. I know that visiting hours are over now, but I'm the head nurse on this floor, I can make an exception, right?"

"Uh, right," Monica stammered agreement, since any other answer was lacking from her lips.

A sweet smile was conveyed from the nurse. "No hurry, dear. I'm not going to chase you off from your man. I'll probably check in on him in an hour or so. But if you need anything, just press that button above the bed."

The hydraulic closure slowly pushed the door solidly closed. Monica stood alone in the room, with the comatose stranger. She looked at him, then gave him a nervous smile and laugh, as if he could see and respond.

Monica took off her winter coat, and draped the mid-length black garment over the chair. She spoke to herself somewhat sarcastically as she tore open the pajama packaging, trying to digest the slightly-surreal situation, "Ok... this isn't going to be weird, at all."

The plastic, cardboard, and stick pins went into the garbage, and she unfolded and shook out the silk garments, then lay them on the table that spanned the foot of the bed. Reaching behind the man's neck, she pulled the string, holding the gown together at the top. Then she realized there were more ties behind him. Grabbing his arms, she pulled hard and brought him up to a sitting position.

"Up we go, big guy," she mumbled, trying to add some levity and make herself feel more comfortable with the thought of undressing a man she didn't know.

Quickly, she wrapped her arms around his torso, to keep him from falling back to the bed. His head rested on her chest, face in her bosom, as she balanced him and unfastened the back of the gown.

She noticed the feel of his masculine frame in her embrace. As her hands ran down his back, she couldn't help but dwell on how good he felt in her arms; even if he was completely out of it.

As gently as she could manage, Monica lowered him back to the bed, and pulled the fabric out from under his limp body. Slowly, Monica stripped the smock from him. She caught herself admiring his chest and arms, recalling Phoebe's comments the day before, as she massaged him. Particularly, she remembered the invitation to touch his chest, and feel his muscles.

She thought for a moment... but only for a moment. Tentatively, her hand went out, landed on the man's body, and softly squeezed his pect.

"Oh my," she murmured as she felt exactly what Phoebe had been talking about. Looking at his mostly naked form, and feeling his chest, Monica silently agreed that he was in very good shape.

She found herself caressing and massaging his chest and shoulder... though without the therapeutic intent that Phoebe had the day before. A second hand joined the first, and they moved over his shoulders and down his arms.

She spoke quietly to the man. "You are in shape,..." though, at the place she would have said the man's name, she realized she still didn't know it. So she simply finished with, "...Guy."

Her fingers slowly retraced their groping steps, then as they moved down his chest to his stomach, Monica glanced down at his boxer shorts.

The waistband called to her in Phoebe's voice, "You wanna see what it looks like?"

Monica froze, as if the words were actually being spoken, rather than simply echoing in her head. She looked over her shoulder, and all around the room; feeling the need to make sure they were really alone. Then she slipped her fingers inside the waistband, pulled it up from his body, and took a peek.

"Oh my!" she said with appreciative surprise. Even flaccid, his penis was impressive.

She lowered the waistband, covering him again. Suddenly, Monica felt a pang of guilt, accompanied with a surge of desire.

"Ok, I know I shouldn't have done that," she said quietly to the man, with a nervous chuckle. "I mean, we don't even know each other... but, um..."

Then changing her mind, Monica took another peek inside his shorts. "WOW!" she silently mouthed.

She knew what she wanted to do. And she knew that she shouldn't do it. Monica's own voice now rang in her ears, scolding Phoebe for wanting to masturbate the unconscious man. But she found it surprisingly easy to ignore her previous indignation.

She quickly went to the door, then paused, trying to think of an excuse, in case a nurse saw her looking out. Slowly, she opened the door, just enough to poke her head though. The room was at the very end of the hospital corridor. Across from it was only the janitor's closet. She peered as far to the right as she could see, and observed no activity.

Satisfied that no one was coming, Monica carefully closed the door, so as not to allow it to bang shut. Then she tip-toed back to the bed, afraid that the clack of her heels might somehow sound suspicion.

She reached into the man's underwear with her right hand. Her fingertips touched the sleeping member. She gently caressed the smooth flesh, as though petting an animal. She knew that this was one snake that would never bite.

Her small hand rubbed the penis, and she felt it begin to grow. As it gradually filled with hardness, she wrapped her fingers around it, and slowly stroked it back and forth, watching as her hand created a bulge moving in his shorts. 

Monica slid her left hand under the waistband, and pulled it down with her forearm, as her hand went to the comatose man's balls. With his genitals in full view, Monica brought his dick upright and jacked it, as she fondled his family jewels, holding his underwear down with her wrist.

She watched her hands masturbating the sleeping stranger, though she occasionally stole glances at his face. She would be mortified if he woke up; but for some reason, in this situation, she was willing to take that risk. She couldn't help herself. She just had to touch him.

Her hands traveled his cock and balls, as her eyes roamed his nearly naked body. Monica imagined what it would be like to bed him... to have those lips kissing her... kissing her all over... to have those hands exploring her body... to have that long... hard... dick... inside her.

Monica felt her pussy moisten. Her heart began to pound in her chest, as she began to contemplate doing something that was very, very wrong.

"But... would it really be SO bad?" she said to herself, with a timid laugh. She stared at his cock in her hand, as she slowly rubbed the full length. Quickly, she convinced herself that if he was awake, he would probably let her... so, would it be so wrong to...

Her thoughts trailed off. Her hand left the man's balls, and her fingers hooked her hair over her ear.

She released her grip on his penis, and quietly strode to the door. Opening it again carefully, Monica looked down the hall. She saw the head nurse working at the counter, with a couple other nurses milling around. The promise of an hour alone with the man rang in her ears. She closed the door, and returned to the bedside quickly and just as quietly.

Within seconds, Monica was up on the hospital bed, straddling the unconscious man's hips. Her body slowly rocked, feeling the long hard rod rubbing against her. It felt so good, the pressure, the stiffness, the girth. Two thin layers of cloth separated them. And Monica decided that that was too much.

She raised up on her knees. Her hands went under her short black skirt, and her thumbs hooked inside the waistband of her black hose. Monica's little butt moved side to side, and forward and back, as she worked her tights over her ass and down her hips. She got them just to mid-thigh, but it would be far enough for what she had in mind. Moments later, her black satin panties took the same trip, though they glided down her body much more easily. She felt a little chill down below, as her wet lips kissed the air.

Monica lowered her body, pushing the rod flat against his abdomen. She rubbed her cunt up and down it's length. The smooth skin tingled her pussy and clit. Monica licked her lips, as she became very aware of her breaths drying them out.

In her mind's eye, a small Devil-Monica sat on her shoulder sporting little red horns and a tail, and wearing a sexy red bustier, stockings and heels. Her bad-girl self taunted her. "Hell, just do it, Monica. You know you want to. And even if he knew what you were doing, he would want it to." Interestingly, no little Angel-Monica appeared to counter the temptation.

Unable to resist, Monica lifted up. One hand reached through her legs, between the crotch of her tights and the crotch of her body, and the other went underneath her ass. The very horny brunette took hold of the man's cock, and held it straight up, as she lowered her body onto it. She felt the head part her pussy, and begin to slip inside.

"Omigod," she murmured as she slowly penetrated herself. 

With the head fully inside her, Monica released the shaft and balanced herself with fingertips on the man's stomach. She slowly pumped up and down a couple inches, reveling in the sensation of the cock rubbing within the most sensitive part of her vagina, that area just inside her lips. As she moved, she became more and more wet, and the fucking got ever more easy. With this, her lust grew and Monica wanted to have all of it in her.

She bore down, gradually and deliberately. Her eyes rolled back in her head, as the cock slowly filled her pussy and she gasped, "Oh god!" 

As soon as she had the comatose man's dick all the way inside her, Monica paused. Kneeling there, her short skirt was flared out, covering their union. Yet if anyone walked in, even if they couldn't see her actually fucking him, she would be hard pressed to explain why she was on him.

But that didn't matter to Monica right then. At that moment, she was simply trusting her unwitting accomplice to keep everyone away.

Her hands moved to caress the insides of her thighs. Monica relished the touch of the nylon/spandex tights. Soft.. Silky... She loved how the fabric felt on her body. She felt so feminine, so sexy, when she wore tights, pantyhose, stockings, thigh-highs. And she liked how she looked in them, especially in black legwear.

Her fingers slipped to her knees, over them, and then continued down her toned calves. She knew that men liked how her legs looked and how the gauzy covering felt when they touched them. She loved being desirable, though she wished that her current partner was able to desire her.

Monica slowly began rocking her hips. Wonderful sensations came to her from beneath her skirt as her pussy yielded to the movement of the dick. Her fingertips found their way to her feet, and as she screwed her unknowing lover, she absent-mindedly played with the decorative bows on the tops of the chunky-heeled shoes.

She gently bit her lower lip as her clit, even more sensitive than her pussy, rubbed against the base of the man's hard cock. Her fingers trailed up and down her calves. She leaned back slightly, and moved her hips up and down, making the head rub against her G-spot. A soft stuttered breath escaped her mouth. "Oh fuck," she whispered.

Acting completely on impulse, Monica sat bolt upright, and unbuttoned her black suit jacket. Opening the halves, she revealed ivory skin and an ebony lace bra to a set of closed eyes. Her fingers went to the clasp between her breasts. She glanced over her shoulder at the door, still somewhat afraid of being caught.

But with the decision that she had gone too far to turn back, Monica opened her bra. The cups obediently moved out of the way as her hands came to her skin and she began to massage her breasts. Her hips continued their slow, sensual assault on the unconscious man's penis. She felt her nipples, rock hard, as she groped herself.

"I wish you could do this, sweetie," she whispered. Then, with the desire for his touch kindled in her mind, Monica reached down and took one of his hands. Leaning forward slightly, she brought it up to her breast. She rubbed it against herself; imagining how good it would feel if he were doing it on his own. She held his hand there, while reaching for the other. Soon, both of his hands were on her tits, rubbing limply against them, while she fucked the single very-non-limp part of his body.

Her nipples tingled under his involuntary touch. They were hard in his palms as Monica teased herself with his hands. The fleshy point of one pert tit slipped between his fingers. Monica instinctively squeezed his hand, gently pinching her nipple with his digits.

"Mmm, that feels good, baby. Do it again," she whispered. His hand, and her nipple as a result, was squeezed once more, as she tried to bring some reality to her dirty fantasy.

Monica looked down at the hands held to her chest. Larger than the womanly ones that only partly covered them. Not callused at all, but rather, soft against her own supple skin. Long masculine fingers made her dream of what they could do.

She returned one hand to his side, but held the other. She breathed a soft, sexy moan as the teasing of her clit and lips began to have a greater effect.

Monica acknowledged in her mind that this could very well be the best sex she'd had... certainly in a very long time. And, she silently recognized that it was partly because it fed her desire to be in control. However, she would never admit, that in reality, she was using the comatose man as her own personal living dildo.

Instead, her eyes closed, and she continued fantasizing about what sex with him would be like... someday.

----- How he would take her and kiss her passionately. They would nearly tear each other's clothes off. He would begin to slip his hand inside her panties, but she would stop him. She would bring his hand to her mouth, holding it in both of hers. She would lick his finger, while giving him a sultry stare.

As she swam in these images, her tongue glided all over the finger she offered herself.

----- Then she would guide his hand back into her panties, and feel his wet finger rub against her clit; teasing her over and over. She would feel it slide inside her; moistened from her mouth, until her pussy could add its own wetness. Soon, his fingering would make her want more. She would whisper for him to stop, and he would obey, though with a slightly confused look. The instant his hand came out of her lingerie, Monica would drop to her knees and yank down his boxers. Her lips would immediately wrap around his cock, and she would give him the most amazing blowjob.

Monica performed fellatio on his middle finger, mimicking the actions in her fantasy. Her lips slipped down the digit, all the way to his knuckles, and she wondered if she would be able to fit his whole cock in her mouth. She slipped his finger in and out, as in her dream...

----- Monica's head would bob forward and back on his cock. She would pause to lick his dick all over, before putting him back in for more sucking. Then she would stand and playfully push him back onto the bed. As he bounced on the springs a couple times, Monica would strip off her panties, mount him, and impale herself on his hard cock.

Fantasy and reality merged, as Monica's body began doing what her mind was dreaming of; sliding up and down on the man's rock hard penis. "Mm! Mm!" she gently grunted around his finger. She opened her eyes, and looked down at the man as she fucked him, knowing that later she would end up replaying that dream in bed with her dildo. 

She admired his physique, running her hands up and down his torso, as she continued fucking him. Monica focused on the sensation of his dick poking into the top of her cunt. Her body rose higher with each cycle, filling herself again and again each time she dropped. She tried to keep her sexy sounds quiet, hoping that she wouldn't be heard beyond the door.

Monica removed his finger from her mouth, and laid his arm at his side. As she leaned forward, still screwing him, she licked circles around his nipple with the tip of her tongue. Then she gave sultry, open-mouth kisses on her way up to his mouth.

Once there, she ran her tongue along his lips, then pushed it in. Monica kissed him passionately, probing his mouth in the way that his cock was probing her. Though she expected nothing different, she was a bit disappointed at the lack of response. Her mouth left his, leaving one final lusty kiss. Her head moved to the side, and she suckled his earlobe, as her eyelids slowly dropped.

Monica's body writhed on top of her lover's. Her short skirt swayed slightly, drawing the cool hospital room air beneath the hem. She felt breezy licks along the bare skin of her ass and the upper backs of her thighs.

The way the petite minx moved, her nipples grazed against his chest. They tingled in harmony with her clit rubbing against his pelvis. This combined nicely with the way her abdomen rubbed against the soft tights and panties, stretched from thigh to thigh and pressed between their bodies.

She could feel herself growing closer to climax. Her breath quickened. She uttered quiet whimpers of heightened arousal in the man's ear. Her exhales came back, hot and humid on her face.

"Make me cum, baby... make me cum," she whispered, as though he had anything to do about it.

Suddenly, Monica's hand came to the man's chest, and she pushed herself upright. Her body heaved and undulated, bouncing up and down, as she fucked herself on her sleeping partner, holding onto his sides.

"I'm close... I'm close..." she softly whined, her eyes tightly shut.

The dark-headed beauty leaned back. The halves of her suit jacket and bra fell away from her torso, and came to rest against her arms, as the garments hung from her shoulders. Fingers wrapped around each nylon-covered ankle. Her hips bucked up and down, grinding the head of his cock against the front wall of her pussy.

"Yes... yes... yes..." Monica panted, as she hovered almost at climax. Then, his dick hit a particularly sensitive spot within her, taking her over the edge.

Monica had the presence of mind to try not to attract attention from outside the room, though she still wanted deeply to savor her orgasm.

"Uhhhhhhhhhh..." she groaned as hushed as she could manage, suppressing her mewing moans. "uhhhhhh... uhhhhhh... mmmm... mmmhhhmmmm." 

Heavy breaths flowed back and forth through her erotically open mouth. Her body pitched forward, and she resumed her hard fucking.

Her finger tips rested on the man's chest, and just as her climax started to slow, she felt two deep exhales from his lungs. An instant later, hot cum flooded her pussy.

"Oh yeah, baby," she whispered, driven on by the sensuous, and slightly kinky, situation. She leaned forward and her little butt bobbed rapidly, jacking him with her cunt. "Cum in me. Fill me up. I want it."

His body could do nothing but answered her request. Fresh streams of jizz shot into Monica, each seemingly hotter than the last.

"Oh, sweetie... mmm... yeah..." she muttered. She felt the flow gradually subside. Her hips matched the easing of his climax, and eventually Monica came to rest with her naked chest against his.

She kissed him, with a gentle smile. But her basking didn't last for long, as she realized that in that position, her short skirt didn't hide much and anyone walking in the door would clearly see his dick in her cunt.




Friends: The Comatose Boyfriend



Monica pulled off the man, and hopped off the bed. Going to the room's private bath, she quickly cleaned herself and pulled up her panties and tights, before returning to redo part of the man's spongebath. As she washed him and dressed him in his new pajamas, Monica struggled with whether she should feel guilty.

"It wasn't REALLY wrong, was it?" she asked. Her mind filled in the silence with an imagined answer of acceptance, which was more than enough to soothe her conscience.

Monica straightened her clothes and put on her coat, before tucking him in and giving him a loving kiss. "I'll see you later, sweetie," she said softly.

As she walked past the nurse's station, her oblivious partner-in-crime called out to her. "Have a good night, dear. Will you be visiting him tomorrow?"

"Um, yes... I'm, uh... I'm pretty sure I will be able to, um... 'visit' him," Monica replied, nervously trying not to convey anything in her words or tone that would raise suspicion. "Yep, you betcha," she mumbled to herself as she walked to the elevator.

That night, she couldn't get her mind off her new flame. Monica masturbated. Twice. Once when she first went to bed, and again when she woke up from a very erotic dream. Both times, like at the hospital, she barely made a sound, fearful that Rachel and Paolo would hear her from the adjacent bedroom.

Certainly, her dildo, and later her fingers, got her off. But they just couldn't match the feeling of that man's long hard dick inside her. And so, by the point she again drifted off to sleep, Monica had determined to go back and avail herself of another session with her comatose lover.

The next day, Monica happily strolled down the hospital corridor. As she passed the nurse's station, she noticed that the head nurse from the night before, her accessory to the dirty deed, was gone. But, none of the new faces even turned to acknowledge her as she walked by, and so, she began to think that this time could be as easy as the previous night.

However, in her mind she went over her prepared story that she would call up if she was caught in the act: she was the man's finance, and she just couldn't bear feeling that so distant from him, in his comatose state. Though she knew it was a little weird, she just had to feel close to him again, and one thing led to another... 

It might not be completely believable, but it should be enough to get her out of trouble. Especially if she could play it like a silly girl; truly in love, but naive and rash.

The balloons, that she bought at the giftshop as a prop to her airhead girlfriend ruse, bumped randomly together as she approached the door. She pushed on it, and walked through, still practicing her pretense as she did so.

She stopped short when she saw Phoebe. The blonde was stroking the comatose man's hair, but turned when she heard Monica enter. A look of knowing suspicion came from her.

"Hi," Monica said. Her expression attempted to hide her immediate awareness that she needed to scrub the plan without raising unwanted attention.

"Hi," Phoebe replied, with an unyielding stare and a plastic smile.

After a moment of awkward silence, Monica spoke, "What are you doing here?"

"Nothing, I just thought I'd stop by..." Phoebe began to reply casually, but then realized she had no reason and thus, stammered to create one. "Y'know, after the um... that I... Y'know, so what are you doing here?"

"I'm not really here," Monica replied breezily, as she set down the small weight attached to the bundle of balloons. But the breeze quickly left her sails. "Just thought I'd drop these off... on the way... my way..." Desperate to take the focus off herself, Monica walked around Phoebe to the head of the bed, as she asked, "Do you come here a lot? Without me?"

"No," Phoebe answered, but then saw her friend adjusted the man's part the opposite direction from her own preference. "No! NO!" She controlled her objections and stepped between Monica and the man. "So, um, do you think he's doing any better than he was this morning?"

Monica maintained her poker face, and attempted to craft a convincing lie. "How would I know? I, I wasn't here."

The blonde moved in for the kill. "Really? Not even to, um, change his PAJAMAS?!" She whipped back the bedclothes to reveal the dark blue garments.

Monica laughed nervously. "I didn't change his pajamas this morning..." she continued, knowing she'd been partly caught and had to admit something, yet still wanting to hide the real truth. "I changed his pajamas last night."

Phoebe crossed her arms, as she grilled her friend. "Uh huh, uh huh... was that before, or after, you HAD SEX WITH HIM?"

"I, I didn't have, have sex with, um, with him," Monica stammered, quite unconvincing in her deception.

"No?" the blonde replied, sternly.

Monica was silent for a minute, then she cracked. "Okay, I had sex with him. Damn it! HOW DO YOU DO THAT?"

Phoebe explained, knowingly, and with not a little pride. "Oh, I know when people have had sex. It's, like, one of my psychic... erotic... abilities. It's all very psych-erotic, really."

Then she shook herself back to the realization that she was supposed to be mad. "But that's not what we're talking about. I can't believe you made me feel, like, wrong... and, and, like a bad person, just for wanting to give him handjob. And here you are, just screwing his brains out behind my back. Or, maybe behind my front." She looked toward the window, trying to get her bearings. "I don't really know which way the hospital faces when I'm in my apartment."

In the midst of Phoebe's confusion, Monica jumped at the chance to appease her. "Look, Phoebe, I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen."

"Oh, you didn't mean for it to happen. And like, just how many times did it happen?"

"Only once, last night."

"Okay, and did you like, WANT it to happen again?"

"No," Monica fibbed, convincingly.

"Oh, really. So you never again wanted to have his... big piece... of, like, man-meat stuffed inside you," she said angrily, trying to shake Monica with her crude words.

"No," the brunette answered, losing some of her resolve.

"Right. And you didn't come back this afternoon to have sex with him again."

Monica cleared her throat and the word came weakly. "No."

"Are you wearing underwear?"

Monica's face grimaced as she answered, "No?"

"Mm-hm, mm-hm, I see... Stockings or pantyhose?"

"Stockings?" She was pained to reply, as she stared at the floor.

"Stockings and no panties, huh? Seems like you're dressed for, like, easy access."

"All right, all right. I want to have sex with him again. It was good, okay? I came back wanting to do him again, right now. All right? Now you know. Satisfied?"

The room was dead quiet, as both women contemplated the next move.

"Well, if you're going to have sex with him, I will too," Phoebe declared. "In fact, I'm going first."

In spite of being caught, interrogated, and made to feel that she'd betrayed her friend, Monica flared at Phoebe's suggestion. "What? No! You're not going first. I should go first."

"Why? Why should you get him first?"

She reached for reasons, none of which seemed particularly valid. "Well, because it was my idea. And after all, I came here planning on doing this. I've been thinking about this all day, and I'm, I'm already kind of ready, y'know. So... so, it'll be easier and faster if I go first."

"Yeah well, 'fast and easy' certainly does describe you," Phoebe said, not too far under her breath.

Monica's mouth dropped open as she gasped in shock and anger.

The blonde woman immediately tried to gloss over her insult. "Well, we sure won't be able to decide who gets him first... okay, that's pretty clear... and it's not like we can both, ya know, do what you did... well, not at the same time, at least... but we CAN both do what I..." Her voice trailed off, as she realized what she was admitting.

"WHAT? What did you do, Phoebe?"

"I, um, gave him a massage," the blonde prevaricated.

"PHOEBE..." Monica's stern tone turned her name into a warning.

"Okay, okay, when I came back to get my guitar that night, I kinda sorta gave him a blowjob."

"You kinda... sorta... gave him a blowjob?"

"Well, yeah, but that's not what's important right now. What's important is that we can both do that, at the same time. See? No fighting over who gets him first."

Monica paused, and looked at her friend as she assessed the idea. Then a demure smile crept on her lips. "True, we could both do that. All right. Lemme make sure no one's coming." Monica peeked out the door, and confirmed that all the staff were far down the hall. It slipped shut.

"OH!" Phoebe pointed excitedly. "Put the plant in front of it, so that, ya know, if anyone tries to come in, they'll like wonder, 'What's this plant doing here?" And, we'll like, just, cover him up, really quick. And they'll never know."

Monica smiled at her friend as she moved the potted greenery into place. "Wow, Phoebe. I never knew you could be so devious," she teased.

"Well, this head is good for more than just displaying a gorgeous face, y'know."

Monica chuckled as she returned to the bed. Phoebe pulled the blanket down to the foot of the bed, as Monica began tugging on the pajama bottoms.

"Push up his top. We don't want to get anything on these," the fastidious brunette instructed. As Phoebe shuffled the silk shirt up above his waist, Monica struggled to get the bottoms and boxers down below his ass. But with one final hard yank, the clothing obeyed.

They looked down at the exposed man, his limp penis drooping between his thighs. "All right, we don't have much time," Monica gestured as she evaluated the situation out loud. "Maybe 10, 15 minutes tops."

"Okay, well let's get him hard," the blonde agreed, reaching for his cock and slowly stroking it.

"No time, Pheebs. Just start sucking," Monica said as she moved her friend's hand, and bent over to put the soft head in her mouth. 

"Ooo, yeah, or licking," Phoebe suggested and began lapping the top side of his shaft, from its base to Monica's face.

"Yepfh, yicking ipfh good, too," her friend agreed, mouth full of dick.

With the attention of the brunette's suckling lips, and the blonde's wet tongue, the cock began to lengthen and harden. It slowly came erect, and Monica shifted her focus lower. "Ooo! That's good. Yes. Suck his balls," Phoebe said, before her head went over the top.

A set of lips gave a gentle pulsing suction, first to one nut, then the other, then back to the first. A second velvety mouth slipped up and down the rod. And a penis soon became very stiff.

Phoebe's head left the penis, and she smacked her lips as she jacked the shaft. Seeing an opening, Monica's mouth quickly moved up from the man's ballsack, to cover the head.

Phoebe was about to protest, but then saw how beautiful Monica looked sucking cock. Porcelain skin, blue eyes, dark hair. But the thing that caused Phoebe's words to catch in her throat were Monica's bright red lips. They were wrapped tightly around the shaft. The shade of lipstick matched the scarlet winter scarf that still hung from Monica's neck. It was like her friend's lips were always intended to be around a dick.

As Monica's head moved up and down, Phoebe reached over and lovingly brushed back her brunette locks, so she could watch her give head. She watched as her cheeks hollowed out at the top of an upstroke, just before her mouth dove down for another series of lip-jacks.

"My god, Monica," she said in admiration, "I never knew you were such a good cocksucker. I'm VERY impressed."

The sucking vixen's eyes smiled back. She winked at Phoebe, conveying her thanks, and somewhat to say that she already knew she was an experienced blowjob artist.

As Monica continued sucking, Phoebe patiently waited her turn and caressed her friend's shoulders and upper back. She felt the soft thin cashmere of Monica's pull-over top. What would be considered a friendly gesture turned sexual in that blonde noggin as she recalled the time that, as roommates, they had crossed the line.

It had started out as a drunken dare after a night on the town. Phoebe and Monica ended up making out on the couch, which both girls remembered the next morning. They nervously tried to pass off their passionate kissing and lustful petting as the by-product of too many tequila shots. Besides, they had both kept their clothes on. "No harm, no foul, right?" Monica reasoned, to Phoebe's agreement.

But a couple weekends later, Monica held a small wine and cheese party to share some bottles of Cabernet and Pinot Noir that were a gift from her boss. After everyone had left, the pair found themselves back on the couch. That time, courtesy of the liberal libations, they went further. The candles that Monica had lit to give a relaxed atmosphere to the evening, instead fueled desire and romance in both alcohol-fogged minds.

Kissing turned to petting. Petting turned to groping. Groping went further, as hands went up skirts and into blouses. Fingers dipped into bras and panties.

Clothes came off; though later, neither could recall who had removed what from whom. With both women as equal aggressors, they masturbated each other on the couch.

Phoebe came first with her pussy lips throbbing around Monica's fingers. Then she regained her focus and renewed her efforts to make Monica cum. And at a point when she knew Monica was unwilling to say no, Phoebe asked, and was allowed, was almost begged, to eat the beautiful brunette's pussy.

Monica came hard. Her body arched and she grabbed onto a blonde head, nearly screaming as a tongue created gunshots of pleasure through her body.

After a deep slumber, they said nothing when they came out of their rooms for breakfast. They both knew it wasn't a dream, though secretly they both knew that life would be easier if it was. Finally, when they awkwardly discussed what happened, they agreed that they weren't lesbians, and that as a one-time stupid drunken act, they should make sure it never happened again.

But now, as Phoebe gently caressed her friend's back, all the while watching her perform a sex act, her blonde pussy began to moisten and dirty thoughts entered her mind.

The sexy brunette had worn a high-waisted skirt that crossed her torso well above her navel. It was tight above her hips, but flared loosely to give the easy access she expected she'd need. As Phoebe's fingers glided over Monica's upper back, they eventually crossed the waistband, like a small horde of marauders sneaking through a no-man's-land.

Monica was so enjoying the blowjob she was giving that she didn't really notice her friend's actions. That is, until Phoebe began caressing her ass.

As she stood there, bent over the side of the hospital bed, Monica felt gentle stroking on her butt. The thin grey wool of her skirt did little to reduce the sensations, especially as Phoebe's hand dipped behind and ran across the very tops of her thighs, pressing the soft wool garment against her bare pussy.

Though the answer was obvious, Monica looked up and asked nervously with a partially filled mouth, "Wh- what are you doin'?" 

"You just keep sucking, young lady," Phoebe directed with a dirty smile. The young Miss Geller obediently resumed suckling the penis. Phoebe's hands began roaming freely, with no protest heard.

Monica's own memories of their tryst came flooding back. It was soothingly familiar when a hand reached under her and lovingly grabbed her breast.

The blonde squeezed the handful of flesh, and it yielded to her touch. She fondled them with appreciation, first one, then the other, as her other hand continued attending to Monica's tight little bottom.

But, dissatisfied with the texture of fabric, Phoebe wanted to experience the softness of her partner's skin. Her fingertips slipped into the unbuttoned V-neck of Monica's top.

The black cloth stretched to accommodate her hand, as it slid between her friend's chest and the comatose man's thigh. She deftly unsnapped the front of Monica's bra, freeing her breasts. A slightly muffled moan came from her right as her hand grazed across a sensitive protrusion.

A groaned assent and a slight lifting of a torso gave the blonde permission to play. Monica's nipples were rock hard. Phoebe gently pinched one and rolled it between her fingers. 

"God, Phoebe, rub my tits," Monica murmured around the dick.

She began touching and rubbing and squeezing Monica's breasts. Her friend stopped giving head for a few moments, closing her eyes and savoring the renewed familiarity of Phoebe handling her body.

The hands of a masseuse slowly worked her over, though not with any therapeutic intent. Her breasts... her ass... her back... the backs of her legs... down her right leg... then, fingers abandoning her breasts and moving down her stomach... Phoebe's right hand joining its mate to glide up Monica's leg... reaching through her legs... upward to cup her genitals...

Monica gasped as the downy wool was pushed and rubbed against her clit, sending tingles through her body.

The whole time, during Phoebe's erotic assault, the brunette's mouth traveled up and down the underside of the sleeping man's shaft, as she held it to her lips. Then she went over the top and put the head back in her luscious mouth. The sucking went on with ever more zeal. Monica had never had a threesome before, and even though one of this trio was unconscious, the adventure of it was intoxicating.

Phoebe leaned in and used her cheek to sweep away shoulder-length black hair. One of her pigtail braids landed across her partner's face as she kissed and nuzzled the nape of Monica's neck. She lavished attention to her friend's neck and earlobes.

Minutes before, the sexy, quirky blonde woman was wanting a big hard cock in her mouth. But now, she had a more urgent taste for a tender little pussy.

"Oh god, yes," Monica's mind whispered, as she felt a hand reach down to her ass and grab a handful of long flowing skirt, pulling it to her waist. The action was repeated twice more and she felt the hem lightly brush against her legs as it traveled upward.

Phoebe stood. She wore an oversized olive-green cardigan sweater with muted burgundy, red, and yellow stripes on the sleeves, and a long black skirt with a tan floral pattern. She quickly unbuttoned her sweater and shucked it onto the floor. Underneath, she wore a matching green tanktop that hugged her breasts. Points came through her bra and shirt, revealing some of her arousal.

She moved behind Monica and slid her hands over her ass and down the backs of her thighs, leaning in against her as she did so. Her fingers glided over the brunette's knees and then moved inward.

Monica had been standing with her legs together, one knee slightly bent and the other straight. Almost demure or nonchalant; at least, as demure and nonchalant as a girl could be, standing in stockings and heels with her skirt up around her waist and her naked pussy exposed to the world. But with the caress of Phoebe's hands, Monica's weight shifted and her feet moved apart, almost as if in total obedience to the blonde's touch.

Palms pressed into the nylon-covered flesh of Monica's inner thighs. They skimmed upward to find a trimmed strip of hair. Phoebe's fingertips toyed in the patch for a few moments, to Monica's soft pleading whimpers, before her hands wrapped though and up and around the petite woman's thighs and crotch. They rested on the smooth skin that framed Monica's wet slit.

Phoebe's breasts pressed into Monica's back as she bent over the bent-over woman. Her face was inches behind Monica's head, close enough to be erotic, but not so close to be intimate, when she whispered.

"Do you want me to, like, do it, Mon? Ya know... what I did before?"




Friends: The Comatose Boyfriend



A whole new rush of emotions - desire, lust, even love - flooded back into Monica's mind, as her body's and mind's most secret want was offered.

"Oh, god, yes, Phoebe!" she begged. Her intensity was conveyed not only by her voice and her closed eyes, but also by the way she rapidly masturbated the cock in her hand and heavily breathed on the base of the shaft. 

The blonde temptress smiled to herself. She stood for a brief second, before slowly lowering her body to a squat. Her knees rested on the outside of Monica's calves.

Phoebe paused to take in the very feminine image before her. Her hands touched and admired the fine texture of the opaque black thighhighs. The delicate lace tops that hid the elastic, but flirted with the exquisite flesh beneath. The toned thighs and ass, tight from Monica's position.

And the pussy. The wet, pink, beckoning pussy.

She teased around the folds with her fingertips, before leaning in for a long lick with the flat of her tongue. Monica gasped at the prurient sensation, tossing her head back.

"God, yes, Pheebs!" she whispered loudly, fearful that she might scream the words.

Her head fell forward as her former roommate's tongue took another swipe. Monica's forehead rested on the long sleeve that tightly held her slim forearm; her mind thinking of nothing but the licking coming from behind her.

"You better, like, keep on sucking, Monica," Phoebe reminded between licks. "We still need to make him cum... Besides... this part is, like... really just for me... ya know... 'til... 'til you let me have some of that big... yummy... ya know, DICK."

The sexy little sucker acknowledged agreement to her friend's direction by putting the suckee's dick back in her mouth. Not only did she want to service their sandy-haired partner, but soon she was grateful to have something stifle her moans of pleasure. 

Phoebe's tongue worked languidly, as a dark head of hair bobbed franticly. The tip traced its way through the folds of Monica's pussy; sometimes licking, sometimes flicking, sometimes burrowing. Then suddenly, the mouth began what can only be described as devouring.

A muffled "omigod" came from the bed, as Phoebe gave up on her teasing and dove in. Her mouth and tongue went to work and very soon, Monica's cunt and the flesh around it was all slick and glistening. 

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," Monica softly chanted around shaft of the cock, as her nasty friend's tongue bathed her genitals.

Phoebe yanked her own shirt out of her skirt and her hands quickly went up inside. She pulled down the cups of her bra and began molesting her tits, licking puss all the while.

Squeezing and fondling and groping and pinching. She wanted Monica's mouth on her tit, as they had done before, but she figured that would have to wait for another time. One hand left her chest and went down into her skirt and panties, as she dreamt of Monica's beautiful face suckling her breast.

Her blonde cunt was quite wet. Phoebe rubbed her clit and dipped her finger inside herself. Monica's fingers had been there once before, and as she masturbated, Phoebe hoped she could feel them again. Then again, maybe, if she played her cards right, she could even get Monica to lick her pussy... maybe... maybe someday.

Phoebe's lusty fantasies seemed to empower her mouth and Monica writhed under the labial attention. She pressed her breasts against the man's thigh, rubbing them against it, and feeling the tingles created by the thin sweater top against her erect nipples. Her hands roamed the man's partially nude body; the cockhead never leaving her mouth. She heard soft moans coming from behind her, though unaware that Phoebe's hand had found its way inside her own panties.

As Monica moved, she kept drifting away from Phoebe's mouth, then back again. Over and over.

Frustrated by this teasing, however unintended, Phoebe grabbed onto Monica's stockinged thighs, pulling her back to where she wanted her. Then she clamped her open mouth around Monica's clit and gave her a good hard suck.

Monica squealed sharply and her face grimaced from the intense wonderful little gift. It also helped to snap her back to reality and remind her of what they were really trying to do, and she resumed her blowjob and handjerk.

The blonde woman's sucking pulsed on Monica's clitoris, as her lower lip brushed against a trimmed snatch of hair. Her finger slipped past her friend's cunt lips, and began pistoning in and out at a moderate rate. Sucking and fingering and licking and playing, Phoebe ate and stroked her friend, who ate and stroked the object of their mutual lust.

Both women forgot that they were in a public place, in a hospital room; that the plant by the door wouldn't stop anyone, and that they were in a very compromising position if anyone did walk in. They simply went on and on like this, engaging in their oral and manual menage a trois.

After several minutes, for the first time in what seemed like forever, Monica's mouth was unoccupied to speak. "Phoebe," she panted, "can you come suck on him for a while? My jaw's getting tired." Then she went on, as if to save face. "Not that I can't do this... it's just that... you know... all sucking and no licking... ya gotta mix it up."

"Huh! Light-weight," Phoebe scoffed playfully.

"Bitch," Monica shot back with a little smile, then her tongue took a quick swipe at the cock-head.

"Well, maybe later I'll make YOU my little bitch," came the blonde's half-jesting retort, as she stood. When she went to move, Monica's voice stopped her, almost as if not hearing the comment.

"But-" The brunette hesitated, but only for a second, then continued, staring at the wall across from the bed and trying not to act embarrassed at what she was about to ask, "can you, you know... keep, um... fingering me?... while... you suck him?"

"It depends," Phoebe answered in her sexy porn-star voice, "can you do something for me?"

"What?' she asked, uncertainly, looking back over her shoulder at her friend.

Phoebe answered by pushing down the shoulder straps of her tank top, exposing her tits to Monica.

"Remember what you did for me before?" she hinted, seductively.

"Yes," Monica answered quietly and self-consciously, watching a tit move toward her mouth. It was one thing for her to be on the receiving end of some lesbian action But to be DOING the things, especially when she wasn't drunk... that was quite another matter, in Monica's deeply heterosexual mind. Yet, she was silently thankful that Phoebe wasn't asking for her own oral activities to be reciprocated. 

As her friend moved into position to take over the cock-sucking duties, Monica felt a hand wrap around the back of her neck and gently pull her over, toward the waiting breasts. She closed her eyes and stuck out her tongue, finding - and licking - Phoebe's nipple.

"There ya go," the bisexual blonde encouraged. Her arm and shoulder was sprawled across the man's stomach. Her hand wrapped around his pole, stroking it to keep it alive for her hungry mouth, as she enjoyed her petite friend's sexy tit-play.

A couple more licks, and Monica's mind reverted back to the actions of that night. Her tongue feeling the soft skin of Phoebe's breast; the transition of texture as it slowly moved across the disk of her areola; the hard nub of Phoebe's nipple seeming to push back as she lapped across it.

Blocking from her mind the harsh reactions, should her family find out, the sometimes-neurotic brunette told herself that what they were doing really was within acceptable bounds.

"It can't be THAT wrong," within her pretty little head, Monica assuaged her own concerns. "Phoebe's one of my very best friends and... and it's only a breast... it's just a little bit of licking... and I guess... it wouldn't be bad if I just... I'll just suck it a little... and..."

Feeling Monica's level of passion change from hesitant to accepting to willing, and satisfied that her friend would continue, Phoebe reached back behind Monica's right ass cheek, and slipped a finger back into her.

Monica's rambling thoughts went on. "...and... oh god... yes, Pheebs... god, her finger feels so good!" She shifted position slightly to allow her friend a better angle into her cunt, while still obediently keeping her mouth where it needed to be.

"Oh Mon, you're so good at that," Phoebe whispered, as she watched Monica engaging in her first sober girl-girl action.

As Monica maneuvered for the exact perfect placement of their bodies, Phoebe began licking the penis in her hand. Long and hard, just like she'd experienced a couple days before. But this time, the way she was coming at it, it entered her mouth almost upside down. The flat of the head rubbing against her tongue, and her upper lip settling into the ridge behind the head each time she almost pulled off.

She resisted the impulse to climb up on the bed and do a sixty-nine with him. But only because she remembered that he would be totally incapable of pleasuring her at that point. But still, Phoebe wanted her pussy licked. She needed to feel someone's tongue on it... anyone's tongue... lapping... licking... burrowing into her. Out of the corner of her eye, she flashed a look at her friend, still licking and sucking her tits, but quickly decided that Monica wasn't ready yet for full-on, bi-girl, cunt-licking fun.

Still, Phoebe became ever more aware of the aching between her legs. One hand was occupied with Monica, but the other was available, she reasoned. She'd just have to make sure that as she sucked, she kept the cock trapped within her lips. She reached down between her legs, and began flailing at the long dress, trying to get it out of the way, and get at her clit.

Thoughts had been racing in the mind of the dark-haired lovely. She replayed every detail that she could remember from their wine-induced romp. The way Phoebe had touched her and the feel of her friend's feminine body. The thrill of stripping clothes off with abandon.

Watching and feeling the pretty blonde licking her breasts. A woman's mouth on her tits! "God, that felt incredible," her mind screamed.

Then licking Phoebe's breasts; playfully, teasingly, seductively, lustfully. Phoebe reclining against the couch's arm. Monica following her, laying between her legs. Feeling the softness of Phoebe's blonde snatch against her stomach, as Monica moved while she licked and kissed.

Recalling that, somehow, the naked women ended up facing each other in the middle of the sofa; legs intertwined and spread. Looking up and down at Phoebe's open, offered body. Uncaring of her own immodest display. Feeling her fingers hot and wet, as she masturbated her friend. The pleasures of a different woman's technique as Phoebe masturbated her.

She snapped out of her sensual reverie, when she realized an arm was trying to move a dress. The reason was immediately clear to Monica.

"I... I can do that for you," she said quietly, looking up toward her cock-sucking friend.

Her hands pulled at the fabric, drawing it up, until the hem was in her fingers. She quickly tucked bunches of the skirt into the elastic waistband, getting the front of it up and out of the way.

Then she slipped her hand into Phoebe's panties, running through a muff of hair. As it went deeper inside, she felt the warm wetness of the cloth against the back of her hand, and the hot wetness of Phoebe's flesh on her fingers.

"Gohhd, yeff, Momica! Rumb meh!" came the urgent full-mouthed whisper.

Monica's fingertips found the fold of flesh covering Phoebe's clit. She slowly rubbed the sensitive spot, back and forth.

"Fukh yeff!!!" Phoebe groaned as quietly as she could, forced momentarily to pause her sucking, by the sharp tingles running through her pussy.

The fingers kept moving. Back and forth, then little circles. Playing with the wet flesh. Slipping inside briefly, then back out to her clit. Rubbing, caressing, pressing. 

Phoebe's head bobbed up and down, as she sucked. The wet noises she was making joined the room's subtle cacophony of Monica's erotic panting and whimpers, the soft suckling sounds of the beautiful brunette's lips, and Phoebe's own controlled moans of enjoyment.

The combination of fleshy sensations was bringing Monica closer and closer to climax. The dirtiness of being masturbated; of touching another woman's pussy; of sucking and licking a tit; of hearing her friend's aroused sounds; of knowing she was sucking a big hard cock; of tasting still the precum in her own mouth that Monica had sucked out of that rod. Her eyes slipped closed as the wave slowly rose.

"Ohmigod... oh god, Phoebe... I'm gonna cum..." Monica moaned between licks that had grown much more frenzied. Her hand was matching the energy of her mouth, as though it could bring on her own orgasm, quicker and stronger. It did, however, trigger the blonde to shift her attention from the man to her friend. Her finger sped up, banging Monica rapidly and franticly, as she clearly wanted.

"I'm gonna cum... Pheebs... I'm gonna cum..." Monica chanted, her hot heavy breath against Phoebe's breast. Her friend knew she could be a screamer, having lived in the next room, and hearing the brunette's activities whenever she brought a guy home.

She grabbed Monica's head and pressed her open, moaning mouth against her breast. She felt her lips clamp around her nipple, as Monica realized the same thing, and did everything she could to stay quiet and not attract attention from outside the room.

"mmm... mmmmMMM..." With deliberate will, the sexy brunette turned her usual screams to simple moans and groans. And Phoebe muffled them further with her breast. "MMMMMMM... MMMMMMMMMM... MMMMMHHHHHHNNNNNN..."

Monica panted loudly through her nose, and a sexy little nasal squeal came out, as her friend finger-fucked her wildly. "mmMMYHMMmmm... mmmm... mmmmmmm..."

Her orgasm began to subside, and Monica moved away from Phoebe's tit. "Oh god, omigod," she whispered as she recovered from her climax, surprised at the intensity of it.

"Now, me," Phoebe ordered quietly, before releasing her friend's head and pussy, and returning to the cock-at-hand. She turned slightly, so she could come at it from right above.

In her afterglow, Monica felt the overwhelming desire to give Phoebe an orgasm that would match her own. Without even pushing down her skirt, Monica fell to her knees beneath the blonde's leaning frame. She grabbed onto her friend's panties and pulled them down her thighs, to give her fingers total freedom of movement.

Her head tilted back, and she surveyed the two breasts that hung down above her. Monica gave a quick flick of the tongue to both, then choosing the one that had been neglected to this point, her mouth began servicing again, like a little kitten suckling from it's mother.

She reached out and grasped Phoebe's calf. She caressed it as her fingers moved to trace the scrunched-down top of the thick grey sock that came out of an ankle-high winter boot. Then they glided back up, along the smooth skin of Phoebe's bare leg, and found her way to her cunt.

Monica's fingertips caressed the full length of her wet slit, before the middle one went inside. She heard a soft sexy grunt and knew that was what Phoebe wanted. As her finger slipped in and out, Monica's tongue and lips teased her ex-roommate's breasts.

"Yeff, Mohnm... mm hmm... mm hmm..." the blonde woman encouraged her friend, as her lips slid up and down the shaft held between them. She paused to give direction. "MMMMmmm... yefff... fuhkk itth.... mmm, yahhh... yyickh ummm... yickh umm... an' sufck um... mm hmm..." She moaned her approval as her braided pigtails began dancing on the man's abdomen.

Monica's free hand kept a breast at her mouth. She held it widely open, and sucked hard on Phoebe's tit, drawing in her nipple, and as much of the mound as she could get. Her lips tightly pressed into the flesh, holding the suction as they pulsed on the disk. Her right hand continued fondling Phoebe's pussy; finger-fucking it, and occasionally, leaving it to rub her clit.

But Monica's steadied pace, almost a romantic one, was far too passive for the blonde's tastes. As she sucked the comatose man's cock, she tried using her moans to give Monica hints that she wanted to be banged harder. She even tried using her psychic abilities, such as they were, to convey a message of dirty desires. Then quite frustrated, Phoebe emptied her mouth.

"Damn, woman, put some spunk into it! Surely, you do your pussy harder than THAT?"

Monica's lips separated from the breast with a sloppy pop. "Oh. Right. Sorry." Her hand quickly picked up speed and vigor.

"Hell, yeah. Now, THAT'S what I'm talkin' about. Yeah... harder... harder..." She filled her lips with dick again, as she felt her friend's mouth come back to her other breast.

Monica's hand was whipping up a storm as she finger-banged Phoebe. The long floral skirt fluttered on the back of Phoebe's legs, as the middle finger pistoned in and out rapidly. Her tongue swiped the big pink nipple in a broad circle, before her lips produced a few choice sucks.

"Oh shfit, thaft's goood!" Phoebe groaned. "Mm hmm... mmm... mm, usehh yehr teeffhh..."

Monica never was one to buy into the pain-is-pleasure approach. But maybe a little bit of teeth couldn't be bad, she quickly reasoned. She opened her mouth as wide as she could, and as her mouth closed, Monica firmly scraped her pearly whites, gently indenting the flesh as they passed.

Phoebe's moan showed her pleasure. Monica moved to the other breast and repeated the action. But this time, her lips closed down on the protruding nipple, trapping it in her teeth. She gently and carefully bit down on it, over and over.

"Fuck yes," Phoebe whispered loudly, her head snapping back. "Damn, Monica, you CAN be a nasty little bitch!"

The normally reserved brunette smiled to herself, as she continued nibbling and kissing and licking her friend's tits. The passion she put into her mouth's work, intensified her hand's actions.

"Mmm, yeah... that's it..." Phoebe uttered between licks, with a dirty edge to her voice. "Yeah, baby... yeah... do it... come on, baby, spank my cunt... harder... harder..."

Monica recalled the hardest she'd ever been fucked; how good it felt with that boyfriend's body banging against her pussy lips and clit. She tried mimicking that with her hand, driving her finger into Phoebe and allowing the others to slap against her cunt and her palm to smack on her clit. Her other hand slipped behind the first, allowing her fingers to clap against Phoebe's thighs and ass.

"Yes! YES!" came the intense whispers, as her stroking kept up with Monica's. "Do it! YES! DO IT!... I'm so close... I'm so fuckin' close, Mon! Rrrrrgggghhh!!"

Just then her orgasm hit.

"SON OF A BITCH!" The whispered shout filled only that room. Her body pitched and writhed, and her breasts swayed, bouncing against Monica's face. The brunette grabbed onto one, and gave it a long hard suck. "MOTHER-FUCKIN'... SONUVA... mmmmmmSHIT!"

Monica couldn't help but giggle at her friend's foul-mouthed pleasure, through she hushed her friend. "Shh, Phoebe!"

The grunts and groans came more slowly and more controlled. As they turned into heavy breaths, Monica eased her sticky hand, and soon was simply rubbing and petting the smooth pussy.

"Okay, come up here," Phoebe panted. "I think he's really close. I felt him almost cum a couple times, but I stopped him."

The brunette climbed to her feet and rejoined her friend at the man's groin. His shaft was held in the hands of two beautiful women, Monica's smaller one near the base, and Phoebe's above. Monica diddled his balls, while they stroked him together with only vaguely synchronized motions. His cockhead traveled between two mouths, as they took turns delivering short fast sucks and licks to the fleshy helmet. 




Friends: The Comatose Boyfriend



Monica released the cock, and brought her lips to where the penis met the sack. She rubbed her lips against the underside of the shaft, bumping against Phoebe's hand. The fingers went away, and she saw her friends eyes and nose come into view.

The women quickly fell into a pattern, as they jacked him off with their lips. Monica continued caressing his balls, coaxing them into giving up their prize. Soon, Phoebe's tongue slid around the side of the rod, and Monica felt it licking against her lower lip, hinting that it wanted a playmate. Her own slipped out, and the two tongues played with each other as they ran shuttles up and down the shaft.

Phoebe's assessment that she had kept the man on the verge of ejaculation was quite correct. Soon, his chest exhaled deeply as a thick stream flew up and came back down. It landed on Monica, running from her earlobe to her high cheekbone. She blinked in surprise at the unexpected splat. But then without missing a beat, she moved up and her lips clamped around the cockhead. A second strong spurt hit the back of her mouth.

A split second after Monica made her move, Phoebe realized what was happening. "Ooo yeah, give me some!" she said excitedly.

"Hm-mm," Monica disagreed, glancing up at Phoebe and shaking her head, while the cock dispensed more cum.

"Ya-huh! Don't hog it all!" the blonde woman protested. Monica simply ignored her and kept on sucking. The line of jizz slowly traced its way down her cheek.

"Fine then," Phoebe pouted.

She grabbed their sleeping partner's cock and began milking it into her friend's mouth. She felt it throb, as shots of cum coursed through it. Soon the pulsing abated as his balls were pumped dry.

"There! You got it all. Are you happy... you... big... little... sperm-hogger!" Phoebe blustered, jealously.

"Mm hmm," Monica acknowledged. She removed her mouth from the cock but before could swallow, Phoebe grabbed her and kissed her. She pushed her tongue past Monica's lips. Instinctively, the beautiful brunette began kissing back. As their passionate liplock swelled, their tongues began swimming through the gooey white liquid that filled both their mouths.

Satisfied that she had gotten her half of the jizzy treat, Phoebe pulled back and swallowed. Monica followed suit, but with the slightest look of disorientation.

Phoebe broke the silence. "Well, you were being selfish!" she pronounced with finality.

"Yeah, I... I guess I was," she replied sheepishly.

They each stared at the glistening fluid that gave a sheen to the other's lower lip, and dribbled downward.

"You, um..." Monica said, gesturing to the blonde.

"Oh, yeah, you too," Phoebe said, licking her lips. Monica timidly touched her face, as Phoebe went on. "It looks kinda like shiny lip gloss."

"The guys I date wouldn't like me kissing them with THIS on my lips," Monica commented, as she brushed her lip and chin and licked off her finger tips.

"Well, maybe you should start kissing more girls, then," Phoebe teased in her porn-star voice. She wiped the cum from Monica's cheek and slipped her finger into her friend's mouth. Monica shyly licked it clean. She suddenly became very uneasy as Phoebe cupped her cheek and gave her a look of loving admiration.

"We should, um," Monica started to speak, but with a nervous hoarseness. She cleared her throat. "We should, you know.. go. Before someone comes in."

"Yeah, right," Phoebe said as she started to put herself back into her bra and pull up her tank-top. "You should do something with your hair, though... and maybe your lipstick, too."

Monica grabbed her purse and went into the adjacent bathroom. Her skirt had mostly settled back where it should be, and she pushed it the rest of the way into place, straightening the waistband with her thumbs. Her palms ran down her thighs, hips, and ass, to smooth out any creases in the fabric.

As she stared at herself in the mirror, her fingertips adjusted her tousled hair. But Monica's mind kept returning to the sights and sounds and sensations she had just experienced.

She applied a fresh coat of deep red lipstick, and suddenly recognized just how erotic a woman's mouth could be.

Her nipples became hard again, and she was reminded that her bra was still undone. With the way her skirt snugly hugged her waist and upper hips, restricting access, Monica reached down inside her stretchy top, fishing for the cups. She recalled how deftly Phoebe had undone her bra.

She clasped it together, and pulled her hands out of her top. As she arranged her full breasts within, Monica watched her hands; knowing, yet unwilling to admit, that she got a rush from caressing another woman's breasts; from touching Phoebe's pussy; from just letting go and allowing her friend to please her.

And that last look from the libidinous blonde woman. Monica didn't know if she was viewing her as a friend... or a new lover... just a sex partner... some kind of kinky pet... even a protege. She didn't know how to read that. And she was keenly aware of being uncertain about her own newly revealed bi-curiosity.

Phoebe meanwhile had pulled her panties back up, put her cardigan back on, and was in the process of re-dressing the handsome comatose man. A little smile crossed her lips as she thought about how surprisingly willing Monica had been to do the things they had just done.

She pondered her next move, but decided an indirect approach would be best. Perhaps dropping occasional innuendoes, just for Monica's ears. Maybe a light, 'innocent' touch now and then. Just play her for a few weeks.

"Might be kinda fun to seduce her," the devious blonde muttered to herself, as she tucked in the blankets around the handsome man.

Monica came out from the bathroom; clothes fixed, hair and make-up primped, like nothing had ever happened. "You ready to go," she asked, trying to act normal.

"Yeah. Ooo! Let's go get sushi!" Phoebe replied excitedly, in one of her apparently disconnected tangents.

"Sure, we can find a place with vegetarian rolls, since you don't eat meat," Monica suggested, chuckling, as the pair put on their winter coats and moved the plant away from the door.

"Oh, I don't know," Phoebe deadpanned. "I kind of like tasting a 'little piece' now and then."

As Monica began to consider on the comment, they passed a nurse in the hall. Both girls looked back to see her enter the room they'd just left, and they exchanged knowing grins.

Standing alone in the elevator, Monica bashfully admitted, "Ya know, that really was fun."

"I know, hey! Ya think there are any other, y'know, cute coma guys we can visit?"

Monica laughed softly at the silliness of her friend's suggestion. The elevator dinged, the door opened, and the pair strode through the hospital foyer, as the seemingly ditzy blonde rambled on.

"Well, of course, I don't mean 'here'. But there ARE other hospitals in the city, you know."