Phoebe—Chaos Reigns

Chandler chooses the woman who literally has him by the balls: Phoebe. The small tattooed woman toys with his male equipment like a cat who has yet to extend her claws.

He says, “I don’t know if it will fit, but it will be fun trying.”

She pulls his dick back and lets it slap back down to his abs, “That’s the attitude.”

His wife shuffles away with her arms filled with discarded clothing. She’s lost complete control. A marriage can’t run on schedules. It needs spontaneity and passion. She thought the story of getting lost would bring that back. She’s drunk. She’ll throw up before she’s takes a shower. The last thing she’ll remember from the night is Ross sucking Joey’s dick. The only evidence of her husband’s choice will be waking up alone in a big bed, reaching over and not feeling his body that feels like a furnace.

Rachel closes her eyes. She can’t watch the train-wreck that Chandler just chose. She thought they could’ve had a fun night. Completed parts of each other that they were missing. Unfortunately she’s drunk and still in a dead end marriage. If even she did connect with Chandler, dating your ex’s best friend isn’t the smartest decision. Uncle Chandler can’t become Stepdad Chandler without a lot of uncomfortable questions.

Chandler stands up, and holds out a hand to Phoebe. She grabs his hard cock and uses it as an anchor to stand up. She grins, “What a sturdy cock.”

He twist her piercings, “What perky tits.”

She grunts in pain, “Let’s go to my room. I have some coconut oil we can try.”

Monica who can’t help but overhear offers a warning, “Joey’s in there.”

Phoebe’s eyes flash with joy, “Then that’s exactly where I want Chandler to fuck my ass.”

She struts in front of Chandler making sure her ass jiggles with each step. He follows her like a lost puppy, his eyes never leaving that booty. He’ll follow that ass to his demise. To the ruination of his marriage. The death of his longest friendship. They disappear into the house.

Rachel tries to comfort Monica, “It’ll be better in the morning. Tonight isn’t reality.”

But its consequences are.

The two women go their separate ways. Monica to clean up for bed. Rachel to pull his husband off the couch and lead him into the bedroom. Just because he’s admitted his sexuality, doesn’t mean they can’t cuddle. Hold each other. They still deeply care about each other. That’s not going away, but the life that made is and they’re both afraid.

Phoebe busts into her room like she’s a SWAT team: loud noises and flashing lights, everyone disoriented. Joey groans in bed, covering his eyes from the light. He looks like a grizzly bear in boxer shorts.

Phoebe yells, “Where’s my bag?”

She knows where her bag is. She immediately digs into it, tossing hair spray and perfume over her shoulder in the direction of her nauseous husband. Cosmetics rain down on him, and he’s still unsure what is happening.

Chandler stands naked in the doorway, nervous to enter the den of the sleeping bear. Only his dick stick out and enters the room. He mistakenly worries more about the big drunk man in bed than the woman digging for lube. She’s going to cause way more problems than his annoying friend ever could.

She holds up the bottle of oil triumphantly. She tosses it to Chandler, who instinctively catches it. She lays down next to her husband on the bed. She jiggles her ass. “Give me a full body massage first, then lube up your dick and my ass and shove it in.”

Joey sits up, finally realizing what is happening. He stares at Chandler, “Bro, are you seriously going to fuck my wife’s ass while I’m in the same bed? I don’t care if you fuck every one in her body, but have some respect. I’m trying to sleep.”

Only worried about himself.

Chandler squirts oil on Phoebe’s back. Starts rubbing it in until her tattoos shine. He straddles her body, when he bends forward he presses his cock between her ass cheeks like a hot dog in a bun. Joey continues to talk the whole time.

“I don’t care that you’re fucking Chandler.

“You're ruining his life not mine.

“Monica is going to paralyze you in the morning. You won’t be able to feel anything from the neck down.

“Chandler don’t do this. Go back to your wife. Get your marriage back on track. This is just reckless. Her ass doesn’t even feel that good.”

Chandler ignores him, and oils his sexy wife until their bodies slide across each other. Her ass cheeks glisten. Two of his fingers fuck in and out of her asshole while she moans. His thick cock drips with oil. He bends it down and points it between her plump cheeks.

He locks eyes with Joey. His mushroom head pushes against her brown starfish. It opens up. She grunts and screams. She bites down on a pillow. He slowly eases into her tight little hole. Her husband watches her endure the pain of the equivalent of beer can stretch her asshole.

To her credit, she doesn’t say stop even when tears stream down her face. She glares at her husband with gritted teeth. Even though it’s another man’s cock causing her this pain, it is all his fault.

Chandler slowly fucks her tight ass. The ring pinching his cock feels incredible.

Joey cracks first, “Stop bro. Please. You’re hurting her.”

Chandler slaps her ass loudly leaving a red handprint. “Not as much as you’ve hurt her.”

Joey smacks hip across the face. Not lightly. Chandler should immediately stop and take a test to see if he has a concussion. Instead he rams his full throbbing cock into the tiny Asian wife beneath him.

She screams, but this time it’s not in pain. It’s in full life-shattering orgasm. She shakes and moans Chandler’s name, worshipping him like a god.

Chandler grins stupidly, proud of his accomplishment.

This time Joey’s hand is closed when he hits Chandler. “Stop fucking my wife!”

Chandler gets knocked out. His dick still buried in the convulsing woman. Joey tries to pull him out. His wife’s asshole grips the girthy cock too tightly. When he lifts Chandler up, his wife rises with him. They’re literally connected.

He slaps Chandler in face, telling me to wake up. His wife moans. It’s torture. She’s locked into a continuous orgasm. Her body radiates pleasure. She’s can’t talk. Can barely breathe.

Joey does the only thing he can think of—he squeezes Chandler’s nuts. Too hard. He ruptures a testicle. The sharp pain wakes Chandler. He grits his teeth and rolls back, ripping his cock out of the little woman, literally tearing his asshole. He falls off the bed and howls with pain.

Phoebe mule kicks, her asshole bleeds, she hurts so fucking back. Her kick hits her husband right in the knee. It immediately starts swelling. He won’t be able to put any weight on it until six weeks after his surgery to repair the tendons.

The room changed from moans to screams of pain.

The switch wakes the others. Monica is there first. Her husband on the ground. His eye swelling shut, his nose bleeding as he rocks in the fetal position cupping his family jewels. This view vanquishes her dreams of a third child.

Phoebe gets up on her knees. Blood and lube runs down her thighs. She reaches back and gently touches her asshole. She hisses at the stinging touch. She yells fuck when she sees her bloody fingers.

Joey clutches his leg. Accuses “the bitch” of “fucking breaking it.”

Ross says, “Everyone get dressed. I’ll call the ambulance.”

The night ends:

Ross and Rachel get divorced. Life is different. It’s not easy, but each feel less tension. They’re free.

Chandler and Monica spend their savings on his hospital bills. Monica becomes harsher, more strict. Chandler obeys, doing anything to earn forgiveness that his wife will never truly give. They aren’t happy but they keep the marriage going.

Joey and Phoebe’s marriage improves. Despite not being able to walk for months, Joey takes care of his wife, helps with the kid, asks before he makes a rash decision. Phoebe realizes that laying in her bed with her husband watching tv isn’t boring. Silent moments with him are an opportunity to connect. Just holding hands in the ambulance was more intimacy than they’ve had in their marriage.