No

Monica answers, “You guys can have sex, but I don’t want to watch you **** her. That’s a little rough for me. Let’s have a tamer first threesome.”

I glance down and connect eyes with Phoebe. We’re both disappointed my wife said to calm down. We were both ready to get rowdy.

She unhooks her legs from my neck, and slides back down to the mattress. Almost talking to herself, Phoebe says, “That’s cool. I can have nice gentle vanilla sex.”

Monica sits up so fast her tits jiggle, “Vanilla? Excuse me!?”

“Oh it has nothing to do with the pigmentation of your skin,” Phoebe says.

My wife’s jaw drops, “This has nothing to do with race or how white I am. My sex is not boring! Tell her Chandler! Tell her about all the wild sex we had.”

“Yeah. We used to have a lot of wild sex,” I say without thinking.

Fuck. I didn’t mean to say that! The fucking bourbon has made me stupid.

Monica intense gaze turns to me, “I’m sorry, we haven’t much sex lately. I’ve told you how much it’s taken my body to recover from pushing a baby out of it.”

I screwed up. I try to backtrack. “I know I know! I didn’t mean it like that. Our sex life used to be wild. We did so many crazy things that Phoebe would never guess. I know why we haven’t done it much lately. I’ve been patient. I haven’t pushed the issue.” I stammer, not knowing what to say. Finally I spit out, defeated, “I’m sorry. I’m drunk and sexually frustrated. I’ll go sleep out on the couch with Joey.”

I get up to leave the bed, but Phoebe grabs my wrist. She has a surprisingly strong grip for a woman so little. Don’t imagine that grip on your cock. It’s too late for that. I fucked up everything.

Phoebe very calmly asks, “What’s some of the wild sex you had to that I wouldn’t guess?”

I don’t answer. I don’t want to mess things up even more than I already have.

Monica considers the question, then looks at me, “I’ve done something kinky that Chandler doesn’t even know about.”

Confused I ask, “What do you mean?”

Smirking shyly my wife looks at me, and says, “I’ve secretly recorded us fucking.”

I. Am. Shocked.

Phoebe excitedly says, “Oh my god. I want to see.”

Monica looks away from my speechless face and says to Phoebe, “Sorry, girl. You can’t watch. It was only an audio recording. But it’s so hot. There have been a few nights where I’ve gotten off listening to it.”

When was this? Where was this? Why hadn’t she told me before? Why keep it a secret? I had so many questions. But Phoebe asked my most prominent question:

“Can I listen to it?”