Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. They are the property of the creators ofThe Big Bang Theory. This fic is rated M. It contains material only suitable for adults.

Sheldon has artistic ability. Yes, indeed.

I watched as he slid the black marker back and forth along the white board, tracing the intricate details of an erect penis, detail by every little detail, labeling and moving and stroking. After that he began to draw the outline of a vagina, using the same flourish, the same detail, the same amazing step-by-step process. I was becoming aroused without meaning to, my hands folded neatly in my lap, my neck becoming hot under the collar of my flannel gown. Sheldon's back was to me, of course, but I wasn't interested in that; rather, I was more interested in his artwork, the drawings and technical elements of what was to become an amazing evening, an evening I would always remember and cherish.

At least that's what I'd hoped.

My eyes were scratchy behind my glasses, so I carefully rubbed them, trying my best to seem interested, trying so damn hard to keep my brain focused on the task at hand.

That penis looks too large for that vagina, I thought. Hmmm. Interesting.

Finally, he turned around, and I realized that he was, in fact, speaking; perhaps he'd been speaking the entire time. Frankly, I didn't know.

"… as you can see," he was saying, "when a man becomes sexually aroused, the penis becomes engorged with blood, causing the spongy tissues to stiffen and the penis to become erect. This erect state makes it easy to place the penis inside of a woman's vagina during sexual intercourse."

He cleared his throat, without meeting my eyes, of course. His hand moved to the drawing of the vagina. "Now, here the vagina receives the male's penis during intercourse. The vagina is normally narrow, but it can definitely stretch…" He paused, his back to me, his hand on the side of the vagina.

Interesting.

He moved to the side, pointing around his artwork. "There are two sets of glands, the greater vestibular gland and the lesser vestibular gland, and they are located on either side of the vagina and empty into the labial folds of skin. The secretions from these glands lubricate the labial folds during sexual excitation and intercourse."

After pausing again, he turned around to intentionally face me… finally. His eyes moved up and down my form before deciding to lift a single brow. "Perhaps you should take notes," he said.

I flushed without meaning to. "But, will there be a test?" I asked.

He pursed his lips as he thought about it. "Perhaps," he quietly replied, his gaze steady. "But perhaps you won't need it."

And then there was silence. It reminded me of the moment earlier in the evening, back in his apartment, right before I ran out of there like a bat out of hell. Currently, my nerves were tense and there was smoldering heat all around me, along with sexual words hanging in the air. With each passing second, my loins were on their way to acing this so-called "class."

Should I stop this madness now? I thought. Or should I do what he says?

I thought about it. Stop the madness, my brain told me. Get up off of this couch right now and, and…

Sheldon suddenly turned red, like he knew what I was thinking, and perhaps he did. He quickly turned, the veins pulsating around his neck, and brought his marker back to the board, his hand shaking as he did so. In the top portion of the vagina, he drew a small circle.

"I left out something," he said, drawing a line to label it, and he wrote "clitoris." I felt my breath catch, and after a moment of silence and staring at the back of Sheldon's head, I finally said, "Yes, I'm familiar with that."

Sheldon didn't say anything for a moment and moved to another part of the board. "We will get back to that," he said, while drawing an oval shape, labeling as he went along. "I've also left out the most important organ," he said, with a little too much volume. "The brain, of course. It's fascinating, is it not, Amy?"

He went on to talk about the hypothalamus, the pituitary gland, and sex hormones. I began to yawn because these are things I already know, in great detail actually. I waited a moment before deciding to interrupt.

"Sheldon," I said, with a slight hint of irritation, "perhaps we could move on. I'm a neuroscientist. I already know all of this."

He turned around and looked at me, obviously irritated by the break of his momentum. "Yes, that is true, but it must be covered in the presentation, especially since our brains are so special and unique, and as you know, so important in this process. And…" he put emphasis on the word, "it's obvious that your brain could use some work, especially after what has transpired this evening."

I sighed in exasperation. "I don't need a presentation. I already know this!"

Sheldon pursed his lips. "Everything?"

"Yes!"

"All of it?"

I sighed. "Of course."

Turning from me, Sheldon shook his head. "Amy, you obviously don't understand. You need my help, and you know it."

I narrowed my eyes. "Why? Because I'm a virgin? That makes no sense, because so are you." I stood up and walked to the board. "You are still a virgin, aren't you?"

Sheldon looked horrified. "Of course I am! Why would you even ask such a thing?"

My mouth fell open as I gestured to the white board. "Because! All of a sudden, you say you're an expert on sex. What am I supposed to think about all of this? What exactly you did you do on that trip?"

"I researched!" Sheldon reacted. He was clearly discombobulated. I put my hands on my hips, shaking my head, determined to move this thing along.

"And, by the way, you've left out something else, something very important," I challenged him.

Sheldon's cheeks filled with air, his eyes raging with purpose as he stumbled for words. "Well… well… of all the things for you to say to me, woman; you know that if you would stop interrupting, I will get to that." He took a sideways glance to the board while rubbing his cheeks. "Anyway… I said you should hold all questions and comments until the end of the presentation, and I meant it. I'm not done, Amy Farrah Fowler. SIT DOWN."

"No."

"Amy!" Sheldon's face turned a shade of scarlet red, while his eyes blinked in rhythm.

"You cannot do this without the proper instruction!" he exclaimed.

For a moment, I considered kissing him, right there on the spot. It was partly out of frustration, partly out of my lingering arousal. But fear got the better of me, yet again.

I moved back to the couch.

Sheldon let out a sigh of relief. "Now, as I was saying," he began again, his hand still on the drawing of the brain as he watched me intently, "this part of the brain…" But then he abruptly stopped, and after a moment, he brought his arms to his sides, his face flushing as his eye began to twitch. His gaze on me, but not quite to eye level, he stood quietly with a look of contemplation. I'm not sure if he was thinking to himself or studying something on my nightgown. Then, without looking up, he said quietly, "The clitoris is the female's most sensitive erogenous zone and the primary anatomical source of human female sexual pleasure."

Finally, he looked up. "In other words, orgasm." After clearing his throat, he slowly continued, holding my gaze with steady eyes. "Both the male and female's bodies undergo physical changes during sex, including increased blood flow to the genitals as well as an increase in pulse, blood pressure and body temperature. As intercourse continues, the male reaches a point at which muscle contractions in the epididymis, prostate and seminal vesicles propel semen from the penis into the female's vagina. The male's orgasm almost always happens at the same time as his ejaculation."

The vein on Sheldon's temple was pulsating. His face was still flushed and red, his palms moving on the sides of his pants. I got the feeling that Sheldon knew what an orgasm was, with personal experience. Could it be? Perhaps he was more of an expert than I thought.

I raised my hand. It was a bold move, I know. His eyes moved up my arm with a hint of annoyance before giving me a slight nod. But at this point, he wouldn't look at me.

"What does an orgasm feel like?" I asked.

His head jerked in my direction. "Why would you ask that, Amy? You already know."

I shook my finger at him. "That is irrelevant, Professor Cooper. You said yourself that I need instruction. So obviously, you need to tell me everything. Are you indeed the expert that you claim?"

He licked his lips before glancing to the notes and textbooks sitting on the couch. "An orgasm is an experience that is unique to the individual," he said. "What causes and triggers the process is different for each and every person." He paused a moment, his hands still moving along the side of his pants.

"I'm sure you are familiar with the soda fountain science experiment," he continued, his gaze averted, "where you drop Mentos candies into a bottle of 2-liter soda, and the liquid explodes out of the top?"

I nodded, but he didn't see me. "Yes, I recall doing that experiment as a child," I said.

He nodded in the direction of the white board. "The ingredients that go into the Mentos' shell reacts with the sugar in the soda to cause the same dramatic reaction that you remember. As the candy dissolves in the soda, the gelatin and gum in it breaks the tension of the soda molecules, which allows the carbon dioxide bubbles to be released. This combination of gas buildup and release of surface tension in the molecules produces an incredible, but messy, reaction."

Sheldon stood still, his eyes still on the white board. "Buildup," he repeated softly, "and release." I didn't say anything as my mind visualized an explosion of Coke, however it was quickly replaced when my eyes fell on the white board, along with Sheldon's.

"As with all science experiments," he continued, "you have to explore variables to determine the extent of a reaction. One of the key parts of any successful experiment is replication, or doing it over and over, so that you can be sure of the results."

His back was to me, but I could tell that he was breathing heavily. What was going on?

"Yes, I concur," I told him softly, waiting for him to continue. Is it hot in here? I thought. I moved a finger along my collar, stretching it for air as I waited patiently, the way that I always do. "Sheldon?" I asked, making sure to keep myself calm.

When he turned around, I felt my throat tighten at the sight of his hands and where they were placed: obviously meant to hide something in his pants. I also felt a surge of something when his eyes locked onto mine.

"Did that answer your question?" he asked.

I nodded, words escaping me as my brain switched into arousal mode, yet again. He took a step toward me. "I think we could use a break in the presentation," he said. "Do you agree?"

I nodded again, noticing the dark look in his eyes. I slowly stood, landing right in front of him as I looked up curiously, my fear creating butterflies in my stomach. He didn't say anything but studied my face before finally placing a finger on my bottom lip.

"You can brush your teeth now," he said.

"Oh," I breathed, nodding like a crazy person before tearing myself away, his finger sliding down my face as I did so. I was only able to leave because the fear remained, and I needed a moment to collect myself and breathe and think, not necessarily in that order. Somehow I managed to find the bathroom, but believe it or not, I had barely spit out my toothpaste when he appeared at the opening of the door, his eyes searching, his expression softer than before. I turned toward him and smiled, wiping my mouth with a washcloth as he walked in, meeting me by the sink.

"I apologize," he said quietly, "for the poor presentation and lack of adequate testing. It wasn't complete or what I had imagined or worthy of what we need; however, I've decided experimentation may be the best route for us."

He swallowed, long and hard. I could feel and hear his breathing, the steady rhythm of his heart, the slight shakiness of air moving in and out of his lungs. With a steady gaze, he continued, "It has already been made clear to me that you excel at French kissing, so perhaps we should start with that." He paused for a moment. "Can you kiss me again?"

I nodded as he placed a hand on my cheek. "Of course." I brought my hands around his neck, feeling the familiar heat under my fingers. For a moment, we stood there awkwardly, so I cleared my throat, breaking the silence.

"So, there won't be a test?" I asked for some reason, teasing.

He smiled sheepishly. "Well, I never said that." Then he paused, licking his bottom lip, the lids over his eyes fluttering as he stepped closer. "But don't worry, Amy Farrah Fowler," he continued, "I still maintain that I am an expert on sex, and tonight, I have a feeling that you will excel along with me. In fact, I am absolutely sure of it."

My eyes widened. Perhaps, I thought, nerves tingling. We were about to find out.

Thank you for reading. :)