Phoebe sat on the couch in Monica's apartment, flipping through every page in her People magazine. Like usual, she skimmed through the text and immediately going to ogle whatever men presented themselves to her. They were all so cut, so handsome; she knew that they were enhanced with computers and what-not, but still, they looked so hot. Even through their clothing, she could tell the ones who had a nice body. In the sports section, her eyes caught on a picture of Evander Holyfield, standing in the ring, sweating after his latest match with Vaughn Bean. It reminded her of when she stole that cut-out of him, and fingered herself to him just that afternoon.
She wished that he, or any man, would fuck her brains out.
Being four months pregnant was no picnic; every day, she would walk around hornier than a schoolgirl. She frigged herself whenever she could, but that was never enough. She needed a cock, once in a while, or even another pussy. Just for a little bit, and she'd be happy.
While her friends understood her pregnant needs to a degree, they didn't understand enough to not be creeped out if she were to ask them to satisfy her.
However, when it came down to it, Phoebe wasn't fussy at all. She didn't care if it were a man or a woman; she would take both. They each had their own charm. They could each make her scream, whether it'd be just them or in a nice, hot threesome.
In her reverie, Phoebe didn't notice the moisture building up between her legs. After her hand instinctively went to her pussy, however, she began petting it as if it were a cat. The gypsy skirt that shielded the drenched silk of her panties only accentuated her touch, and she hoped that no one would walk through the door and interrupt her. Ross, Rachel, and Chandler were at work. Monica was shopping, and Joey was taking a nap. If any of the them were to walk in, though, she had enough time to cover herself before they knew what was going on.
Thankfully, her belly was still small enough that she could watch her play with herself.
Quietly, Phoebe bit her lip, basking in her own sexuality. It was a great feeling, but she knew it could be so much better if someone else were there. Part of her just wanted someone to come in, and catch her, just so she could seduce and fuck them. If they liked it kinky, that'd be a bonus. Many a time did she enjoy giving a foot job, or handcuffing a man and then sucking his hard cock until he blew his load into her hot, waiting mouth.
Just the thought of her past adventures made her moan in bliss. It had been a long time since she had tasted a man's cum, and she would do anything for some spunk at that moment. She'd even go to Joey's and suck him off while he slept.
As these dirty thoughts ran through her head, Phoebe put her magazine down, ready to fully please herself. She hiked her dress up, and placed her feet on the coffee table. The glow of her legs under the soft light of the ceiling fan made her smile; she always liked how long they were, and how sexy someone's hands would look on them. She didn't bother spreading them that much, knowing that she was close to orgasm anyway.
But just as her index finger brushed across her clit, Phoebe heard the door open behind her.
"Fuck." She hissed, unable to cum properly. Turning around, she saw Monica, hauling several brown bags full of groceries, a smile drawn across her face at the sight of her friend.
"Hey!"
"Hey." Phoebe's voice reeked with frustration, but she managed to avoid suspicion.
