Friends - Alternate Reality

After a nice breakfast, Ross and Rachel sat outdoors in the café. He drank tea, she drank coffee. It was a pleasant and private environment. Rachel sensed that Ross was deep in rumination about something. She asked, "What's on your mind, Ross?"

He looked resigned, "Oh, I've been distracted, thinking about things."

"What is it you want to talk about, Ross? Anything."

He leaned toward her and lowered his voice, "Rachel, we've never really had the sex talk, have we?"

"What is there to talk about? We have lots of sex. You get what you want, when you want it."

"Well...."

Realization dawned on Rachel, "Oh, I think I know. Something we haven't done. I hope it's not swapping, or threesomes, because I won't do that." Ross shook his head. "The only thing that's left is...anal." She could see in his face that this was the subject of their conversation. "Have you ever done it, Ross?"

"Nope."

"Neither have I. I am not morally opposed to it, but I don't want any part of it. I think that if we do it, it's your responsibility, your drive, your effort. I will not actively participate."

"I don't understand. You won't do it, but I can?"

"You can do whatever you want. I will not consent. I will not assist. I promise I will not report you to the authorities under any circumstances. I will not try to injure you in self-defense or in retaliation. I will not hold it against you if that is something you want to do. You are entitled to your desires, and I am entitled to my sense of dignity and self-respect."

"We can't both have what we want, then."

"Listen carefully, Ross. You can be a man, and take what you want. I will not consent, but I will not attempt to injure you or report you. It's your plan, your project, your willpower, your desire, your satisfaction. If you really want it, you'll take it."

"Um, it sounds like rape."

"Well, no. You have permission to take what you want, when you want. I will not consent to this activity, but if you really want it, you'll reach out and take it. I will not have to look back and remember that I consented."

"You want me to do it non-consensually?"

"Again, I'm not saying I want you to do it. If you want to do it, you will, and I will not gouge your eyes or call for help. It'd be your show. Listen carefully," she leaned in to him, "be a man, and take what you want."

"So, I can do whatever I want to you, but it's my responsibility. You don't have to consent, or agree. I can just force myself on you, without consequences."

"No consequences, legal or romantic. My conscience will be clear. I can hold my head up high, and tell myself that I did not consent."

"Hmmmm. Does this apply only to the aforementioned practice?"

"No. It could be anything. As long as you don't injure me or involve other people, you have carte blanche."

"Hmmmmm."

Some days later, Ross had decided that this was the night he would enjoy anal sex for the first time. He figured that one precondition was that it be done immediately after Rachel had taken a shower or bath. He had the lube ready, the bed covering turned down, and a pillow in place to prop up her hips. She came out of the bathroom wearing her fluffy bath robe.

Ross approached her formally, and said, "Rachel, I have decided that this is the time that we will have anal. Please lay on the bed, on your stomach." He waved toward the bed.

Rachel said, "No," and walked into the living room.

Ross pursued her, "Rachel, you said I could have what I want, even without your consent."

She turned on him, "Ross, that is not what I said. I said you could TAKE what you want. I also said that it would be your show, and that I would not participate. You asked me for anal. The answer is no."

Ross was disconsolate, "How am I supposed to do this, then?"

"You ASKED me for anal. You didn't TAKE it. I'm not a willing party to this. If you wanted it, you would have thrown me on the bed, pinned me down, and penetrated me. You obviously don't want it enough."

The next day, at work, was torture for Ross. He couldn't stop thinking about Rachel's perfect ass, wondering what it would feel like inside, and what it would feel like to slap his loins against her ass while he pounded her. He was resolved. Before he left work, he called Rachel, and said, "I'm coming over tonight. Please take a shower when you get home. I'll bring dinner."

Ross stopped off for pizza. When he got to the apartment, Rachel was freshly showered, and in her bathrobe, and Monica was not there. Perfect. He ate pizza with Rachel. When they were done, he embraced Rachel tightly. He held her firm ass tightly with both hands. He said, ominously, "It's going to happen tonight."

He took her hand and pulled her into her bedroom. They left the bedroom door open. Ross undressed, keeping his eye on Rachel at all times. She knew that he would prefer to strip the bathrobe off of her himself, so she waited and admired his physique.

When he was nude, he oiled his cock thoroughly. He advanced on her, spread her bathrobe open, and peeled it off of her. He guided her to the bed, and followed her onto it. He nudged her, saying, "On your stomach, please." She complied. He straddled her legs on his knees. He forced her legs apart with his knees.

Rachel said, "Let me put a pillow under my hips, Ross." She did so. She expected doggy-style sex. Ross walked his hands up her sides and clamped them onto her upper arms, immobilizing them. He kneeled between her legs, ready to mount her. He said, "I'm going to take what I want." He pushed his cock between her buttocks, probing for her anus. She reacted by trying to squirm free, pleading, "No, Ross! Don't do this! This is rape, Ross! You're forcing yourself on me."

Ross had long since reconciled the morality of taking what she had offered. He had to press his dick into her ass a few times to find the hole. He could not afford to let go of her arms. When he was sure he had a bullseye, he pushed into her with a will. She screamed, "No! No! It hurts!" He delivered a series of pushes to work himself in.

Her anus was warm, like her vagina, but it had different topography. He wasn't sure what structures he was feeling slide along his cock, but it felt great. When he got in to the hilt, he shouted, "Yeah! I've got it!" He pushed repeatedly against the cushion of her buttocks, driving his cock as deeply as possible. He came suddenly, moaning and shuddering. When he was finished, he carefully pulled out while she cried, "It hurts!"

Once out, he climbed off the bed, got some baby wipes, and cleaned his cock thoroughly. Rachel lay still, prone and somewhat flattened into the pillow. She propped herself up on her elbows, looked at Ross, and said, "How was it?"

"It was excellent. What a feeling! Do you want some wipes?" He tossed her the package. He crossed the apartment to take a shower. Rachel joined him a few minutes later. She crowded into the shower with him. They cleaned themselves and each other without speaking. Later, cleaned, dried and dressed, Ross said goodbye to Rachel. She said, "Congratulations, Ross. You did it. Do you think you'll want to do it again?"

"Oh, yes! It was cool."

"Okay, then. Until next time." She kissed him goodbye.

Shortly after Ross left, Monica got home. She looked at Rachel and asked, "What happened? Is there something wrong, Rachel?"

Rachel was serene, "Oh, no, nothing wrong. Ross just left. He finally got up the courage to rape me in the ass."

"What!?"

"I told him some time ago that I would not consent to it, but I also would not fight him. Tonight, he finally did it. He forced me. It hurt a little, not much."

"Oh, my God, Rachel, I can't believe Ross would do that!"

"Monica, I invited him to, I teased him, I gave him permission, I told him how he might accomplish it. I am proud of Ross, and happy for us."

Monica looked incredulous.

Rachel explained, "This is the first truly assertive thing he has done in our relationship, Monica. Carol had him on such a short leash, and he was so desperate to make his marriage work, that he subordinated his needs and desires. Tonight, he satisfied a secret desire of his, and I'm glad he did. It really wasn't so bad."

"You'll let him do it again?"

"No! I didn't let him do it this time! If he wants it, he has to take it. I fully expect him to do so again. It's all on him, Monica. I had nothing to do with it."

Just then, Rachel's phone rang, "Hi, Ross, you scoundrel." "I'm fine. You did a good job, as always." "Of course, I'm not mad at you. I said I wouldn't be, and I am a woman of my word. Now, you tell me, how was it?" "Ohhhhh, really?" Rachel's eyebrows rose. "Hmmmm, better than you expected?" "In that case, I'll brace myself for more assaults. Now that I know it's coming, it won't be so easy for you next time." "Ha! Good night, dear. Sleep tight."

Monica had monitored Rachel's side of the phone call closely. She asked, "He's going to do it again!?"

"Yes! This is a great development. Ross is too accommodating, too selfless. It's not healthy. This new hobby bolsters his confidence and assertiveness. When I'm with Ross, I have to guard against dominating the relationship. This gives him a turn at the controls."

Monica marveled, "You are the best girlfriend, ever! I am so happy Ross has you, Rachel."

"I've gotten pretty lucky, myself."

In another part of town, Phoebe walked cheerily down the sidewalk, smiling at passersby, when she spotted her client, Mr. Roper, looking into a store window. He stood arm-in-arm with a woman about his age. Phoebe approached, calling, "Mr. Roper! Mr. Roper!" He looked her way and turned white as a ghost.

She didn't understand the look of horror on his face. "It's me, sir, Phoebe, Phoebe Buffay." The woman at his side looked at her strangely. He recovered his senses, saying, "Dear, this is Phoebe. She works for us, from time to time. Phoebe, this is Mrs. Roper." Mr. Roper prayed to heaven that the simple-minded Phoebe would not say anything to betray him.

Phoebe held out her hand, "Mrs. Roper, it's an honor to meet you. I just adore working for your husband. He's the greatest boss!"

Mrs. Roper fell for it, hook, line and sinker. Phoebe seemed such a sweet, innocent girl. Roper felt a wave of relief. He hurried to lead his wife away, but she asked, "What do you do for Mr. Roper, Phoebe?" Mr. Roper stood behind his wife, wildly waving his hands to try to prevent Phoebe from spilling the beans.

Phoebe said, brightly, "I'm his massage therapist, Mrs. Roper, but I spend most of my time with him giving blowjobs and getting fucked. You, know, to drain his prostate? Doctor's orders?" Mrs. Roper turned and stormed away, with Mr. Roper pursuing her, doing damage control.

Phoebe wondered at their curious behavior. She was further confused when she received a phone call from him, "This is Mr. Roper, I will no longer require your services, Phoebe. Please delete my phone number from your phone," and he hung up.

Phoebe was sad at losing a client and dear friend. Phoebe had worked with him once or twice a week, and that was her largest source of income. She would have to do something to make up the difference, but that was a problem that could wait. Phoebe never worried. She had never been taught to.