THE SEXUALITY QUANDARY

CHAPTER TEN

"Intimacy in any form has been challenging for me, but I'd like to show her how important she is, and it feels like now might be the right time. Amy's birthday present will be my genitals."

At first, he could not recall the exact second he made the decision and this lapse in his memory worried him until he realized that this decision was inherent to and bond up tightly together with the same one that drove him to her door to beg her to take him back.

Ultimately, though, the timing did not matter for the fact was that Sheldon knew exactly what he would give Amy for her birthday. The other two options were only misdirections, part of his clever ruse so that it wasn't be quite so obvious why he'd gone to talk to Penny and Bernadette that evening.

Sheldon calculated a 98.7% probability that Amy would say yes, that she'd be thrilled with his gift. But 98.7% was not 100%, and, although it pained him to admit it, it was feasible that Amy's friends might know of a reason she would decline, a reason she had never shared with him. Or perhaps Amy did not feel a week had been long enough for them to reestablish themselves as a couple. Telling her friends first would give them the opportunity to explain to him any possible objections before he embarrassed himself. Additionally, he wanted Amy to be primed for their coupling. He himself planned an extra shower that evening, and it was only logical Amy would want to do the same. He knew how much she valued preparedness. As a female, she'd probably want to apply extra lip gloss or something. Plus, he remembered how shocked and frightened he'd been on their prom night - and to a lesser extent last week; how conflicted and uncomfortable he'd been with the idea of making love when he wasn't ready yet. He didn't want to put Amy in that position.

Fortunately, he could use their friends' inability to keep secrets to his advantage. Sheldon would tell Penny and Bernadette, giving them an opportunity to dissuade him, if necessary. Then Penny and Bernadette would tell Amy, giving her time to raise any previously-silent objection she may be harboring, if such existed. Then Penny and Bernadette would relay this change in situation back to Sheldon, if such a change was discovered, and he'd instigate his back-up plan in time to give Amy the delightful birthday she deserved.

No dissuading, objections, or changes offered, though, the evening in question came up far more rapidly than Sheldon imagined it would. Other than Penny winking at him every time she saw him that day and Leonard's lost asthma inhaler, the day passed as any other. At the appointed time, Sheldon gathered his clean clothes and went to the bathroom for his planned pre-coital shower.

What he saw on the bathroom vanity stopped him in his tracks. He picked up the unexpected box and carried it out to the kitchen, where Leonard was making an early dinner to supplement the movie popcorn he would eat later.

"Leonard?" Sheldon asked. "Why did you leave a box of condoms out by the sink? Is it because you need to return them? This size is entirely too large for you."

"How would you know?" Leonard grumbled as he assembled his sandwich, although he blushed.

"Remember, in the Arctic, when we were all naked? I saw your -"

"I bought them for you while I was at the pharmacy getting my inhaler," Leonard interrupted. "For tonight. I figured it was less embarrassing than taking you to buy them."

"Oh." Somehow, in his plans, he hadn't considered that Penny would tell Leonard. He rolled his eyes and put the package on the island. "Well, no need. Amy has been on birth control to regulate her menses for over three years now. And we don't carry any sexually transmitted diseases to guard against; we discuss all of our health parameters annually or when there is a significant change." Leaving the box, he turned back toward the bathroom.

"It may help you last longer," Leonard mumbled, and Sheldon pivoted on his heel to see his friend taking a bite of his sandwich.

"Do you think my performance will be subpar?"

"I think your performance will be similar to mine and every other man's first time: mind-blowing but too short. Like me." He smiled at the end.

"I have plans to aid in my endurance. For example, I'm about to take a shower in which I intend to -"

Leonard put his hand up. "No specifics, please." Then he stepped closer and took a deep breath. "But, you know, if you have any questions, man to man, I guess I could answer them."

"I understand the mechanics," Sheldon said, just like he had in his dream.

"Sure. But, well, you know . . . the other stuff?"

"The other stuff?"

"It's a very important and emotional event, Sheldon. If not for you, because you're a robot, then at least for Amy."

Sheldon sat down on a stool. He considered telling Leonard that his entire reason for doing this was for Amy's emotions. But that wasn't true. He loved Amy, and, yes, he was doing this as the ultimate display of his love for her, but the truth was it was very emotional for him, too. However, even now, at this late hour, those emotions were too tangled to sort and verbalize.

"If it's with the right person, it will be alright," Sheldon said. "And Amy is definitely the right person. More than that, she's the only person."

His friend gave him that goofy smile he was overly fond of and punched him gently on the shoulder, which Sheldon recognized as a form of male bonding that Leonard enjoyed. Instead of replying, Sheldon grabbed the box of condoms and went to the bathroom. Just in case.

"This is an important night for us, and I'm worried I might be overwhelmed and ruin everything."

Sheldon knew he could talk a good game when he needed to. Plus, Leonard was so simple minded, he was easy to fool. But Professor Proton in a Jedi's robes was another matter altogether. He had the power of both science and The Force, and Sheldon wasn't sure exactly what that would do to his brain if he lied. The truth was he was frightened. Not of the steps to take, those he understood.

But what if . . . what if, having made this life-changing decision, he got to a pivotal moment and discovered, not just that sexual intimacy didn't interest him but that it also . . . repulsed him? What if . . . what if he saw something that turned his stomach? The vulva was especially fraught with land mines. There was the clitoris, essential to a woman's physical satisfaction, so why was it hidden behind so many folds? And so far away from the action? And why was there so much natural variation on the arrangement of the labia, a disturbing fact that the websites he studied during private browsing sessions never failed to remind him. And he understood that the female vulva could be quite odiferous. Why were the genitals so close to one's urethra? What if . . . what if Amy wanted him to engage in . . . cunnilingus?

He could say no to something, of course. Amy wouldn't force him. But he was doing this for her and he wanted to give her everything she not only desired but deserved.

Just as concerning was that troubling night on her loveseat, when, for just a moment, he'd felt something strong and undeniable. What if . . . what if that happened again and he got too caught up it, unable to control himself? What if . . . what if he went too fast, pushed too hard? What if - and the very thought parched his mouth - he inadvertently hurt her? He was given to understand it would be at least uncomfortable for her anyway, but what if it was worse than that?

That terrified him the most. What if his brain chemistry chose that exact moment to allow him to feel something other than asexual?

"Sheldon, I know your present is for us to be intimate tonight."

"I love you," he murmured at the end of yet another kiss. Sheldon had not tired of using it every time they came up for air, he had not tired of saying it every day since he'd returned to her, and he could not imagine ever tiring of saying it daily in the future.

"I love you, too," she replied and grinned at him.

His plan had worked admirably, and Amy was both pleased with and prepared for their physical interaction this evening. Sheldon tried to act surprised she knew, which he didn't think he did well, but maybe his words had been vague enough to hide his knowledge.

"Sheldon?" Amy asked, lowering her arms to hold his hands. "I know that you asked for my consent, but I have not asked for yours."

Tilting his head, Sheldon considered this. "Of course I consent. It's my gift to you. I'm initiating it."

"I know. And I'm so happy right now -"

"Me, too," Sheldon interjected.

"But are you looking forward to it? I just want to make sure you've planned as much as you felt you needed to."

"I am, although probably not as much as you," he admitted. "I have concerns, of course. But I'm prepared, mind and body. And I'm extremely curious." Amy smiled at that. "There's no one else with whom I'd ever considered satisfying this particular curiosity."

Amy grinned again and leaned forward. "Should we go to the bedroom, then?"

"I brought condoms," Sheldon blurted out. "Oh, that wasn't romantic. Just trying to prove how prepared I was."

"It's okay. But I don't think we need them. Do we?"

"I - I've heard they may prolong my performance. And I want it to be as special for you as you are to me."

She shook her head and brushed her hand down his cheek. "Feeling just you . . . like that . . . it's all I need for it to be special. I don't ever want any barriers between us again."

"No barriers," Sheldon agreed with a whisper as Amy lips brushed his. "Do you want to read the non-disclosure agreement first or just sign it?"

"Well, I enjoyed that more than I thought I would."

It was Amy stirring that awoke him, and Sheldon mumbled as she rolled off of him, "What time is it?"

"Shhh, I didn't mean to wake you," she answered instead. "I'm just going to the bathroom; I should have gone right after."

But he sat up to watch her get out of bed, feeling the prickly rush of blood back into his arm again. A quick glance at her alarm clock surprised him, for it was not the middle of the night he expected based on the depth and oblivion of his slumber; rather, it was only a little over an hour since everything had changed.

"Alright," he said, unsure what the proper response was. He, too, understood why it was recommended that females urinate immediately after coitus but he had not suggested this to her at the time. Was that a failure of protocol on his part?

Amy turned at the door, still naked, and asked, "Would you like a shower?"

"Oh. Yes, please." A shower felt not just enjoyable but necessary. His hand felt sticky and his hip itched, too, no doubt from where Amy had thrown her leg over him as they slept.

"Can you wait for me to call you?"

"Of course."

His girlfriend nodded and left him alone in her bed, waiting for her for the second time in one evening. Darkness and isolation led to introspection.

It had not gone as he expected. He had thought so much about his role in the proceedings that he was embarrassed to realize he had not thought much about Amy's. She had spoken more than he imagined, soft murmurings, gentle suggestions, guiding words. It was she who suggested that perhaps they continue kissing lying down, embarrassing Sheldon that he hadn't suggested it himself. They could be closer that way, their bodes pressed together. He toyed his fingertips along her hip, over her nightgown, both shy and not wanting to rush anything. It was Amy that placed his hand over her breast. Within a minute, a thousand questions he'd had since the night of the bath were answered.

Her soft voice made him feel safe and he explored her body slowly, over the thin fabric, discovering curves and valleys, thrilling over her broad hips and gulping over her ample buttocks when he realized there didn't seem to be any underpants beneath. It was Amy who was brave enough to disrobe first, and Sheldon alternated between watching her nude self fold her nightgown and looking away to give her privacy. This time, it was skin beneath his fingers, and he snaked softly over all he could reach. Except, other than a smooth trail up her inner thigh, he shied away from her genitals. He didn't want to do it wrong, to harm her or to ruin the experience by feeling something there that prevented him from proceeding further. Best to stay away from the ultimate mystery for now. If Amy noticed his reluctance and was disappointed, she didn't let it show. Instead, it was she who asked if he would suckle her breasts, and he did so even though he couldn't understand why until her body arched beneath his lips and an exquisite sound he'd never heard before came from her throat. But it was not to be the first time he heard it.

And Amy touched him more than he imagined. After he'd divested himself of his underpants, she asked and he allowed her to inspect his body in return, and she smoothed her palm over almost every inch of him, studying him, and, he thought, appreciating him, just as he had done for her. Sheldon tried not to tense against her sheets, but perhaps he did because she looked up and asked permission to touch his penis. After a pause, he nodded, but he should not have been afraid. Amy's touch was gentle, just enough to make him gasp as his erection hardened further, to the point it throbbed with a sweet ache and it released a drop of fluid at the tip. She tried to bite away her smile with her teeth, but it was clear she enjoyed the effect. Since the goal of this evening was to show appreciation for her, he had not anticipated the reverse or how wonderful it felt to be worshiped.

Between her face and his aching member, he suddenly felt the need to whisper, "Amy, I think I'm ready. I mean, if you are."

Amy paused to look into his eyes, and, for a panicked second, Sheldon wondered if she'd be the one to change her mind. But then she nodded and relaxed back on the bed for him. Two awkward things happened next: the ungraceful shuffling and adjusting of their legs, and then his clumsy fumbling between their bodies before Amy reached down to help him.

Suddenly, with her aid, Sheldon found himself inside of her, at least the very tip of his penis, and Amy cut the silence with a single word, "Slowly."

Closely his eyes and taking several deep breaths, Sheldon pushed forward, until he was almost fully sheathed, but stopping when he heard Amy whimper. His eyes popped open to find hers tightly closed. "Amy? Is it too painful?"

"No, it's just, um, uncomfortable. I expected it."

He matched his breathing to hers, holding himself still on his elbows, watching her face relax. Then she opened her eyes and looked up at him; they were clearer and brighter than he ever remembered. "I never thought I'd get to feel you inside of me."

"I never thought you would, either."

She smiled at that, and that's when he knew it would be alright. He hadn't expected that either, to be sure at any point let alone near the beginning of copulation. Feeling that he had ascertained her status with that smile, Sheldon pulled back slowly and returned, watching her carefully for any signs of lingering discomfort. He knew the female vagina was capable of adjusting itself to the necessary size, but he had not imagined the size would be so accurate: smooth enough to ease his passage but tight enough to provide a most delicious friction.

More confident, he discovered more he had not anticipated as he continued. He was surprised when she clung to him, pulling him down tight so that he could feel her breasts between them. She ran her hands up and down his spine in a possessive fashion. He concentrated on the pace he'd mastered in the shower, silently counting out the duration and monitoring the speed of each thrust and withdrawal, but he had not counted on the soft puffs of air against his neck, the way Amy's reactions were so in sync with his rhythms. Years of practice had taught him how to steady his breath, how to bite back the sounds of his own pleasure, and yet he almost became lost in a trance of those soft mews rolling from her throat. After several practice sessions in the shower, he thought he'd mastered the timing, but he had not anticipated how quickly he would be undone by Amy's breath and scent and those fingers dancing down his spine, just like she was strumming her harp. And, oh, the little calluses on her fingertips! Far sooner than he planned, he climaxed and it was not smooth or silent, but rather he heard some sort of strangled, gurgling sound from his own throat.

When his pleasure drained away, as quickly as it came, he looked down at her and she smiled so beautifully at him. He felt ashamed. She had overwhelmed him and he had ruined it. "You didn't orgasm," he whispered. "I was too fast. I should have used a condom."

"Oh, Sheldon. I told you I didn't want the condom; I just wanted you." Amy reached up for his cheek even as his body slipped away from her. "It's okay."

"No, it's not," he protested. "This is your birthday gift and I wanted it to be the best possible version it could be. I wanted it to be OLED, not a cathode ray tube; The Avengers, not Justice League - "

"Stop," Amy said softly. "I loved it just the way it was. Truly. But, if you want me to orgasm, there's still time."

Her next suggestion was not surprising given the arrangement of female anatomy; Sheldon wished he had been brave enough to do it sooner, especially when he realized how much messier the area was now than before. But he'd meant what he said, about giving her the best possible experience, so he tried not to think too much about what was lubricating the path of his hand. There was a reason he only masturbated in the shower. Another part of his body had just been there, and he'd survived that. At first, Amy helped him, whispering instructions, but then those were lost in her heavy breaths and the way she clung to him again, so much so that when she cried out and thrashed her head around, with deep, throaty, raspy bellow such as Sheldon had never imagined, her fingernails dug painfully into his shoulders.

It was not what he expected at all, but her reaction was so sublime that he immediately forgot about the fear and the sweat and even the semen covering his fingers. When she fell back against the pillow, still panting, he stretched out next to her, reached for her hand between them, and told her so.

But now he couldn't wait for Amy to call him so that he could wash away the bodily fluids left behind. In the dim light, he could even make out a dark circle on the sheet where Amy laid, and his nose wrinkled at the thought of sleeping on top of that.

Just then, he heard his name on her voice and he only paused to chide himself for not packing a bag. But, just as Amy had done, he walked naked toward the bathroom.

She smiled when he entered and held out a stack of fabric for him. The shower was already running and the mirror over the vanity was starting to fog up in the heat. "Here. A clean towel and washcloth," Amy explained. "There's a brand new bar of soap in the shower and you can use my shampoo if you want." Sheldon took the bundle from her as she continued, "And there's a new pair of pajamas on top. I know how partial you are to red plaid."

Sheldon glanced down. "But these are Scotch plaid and I usually wear Mackintosh plaid."

"Well, then, consider them your come-hither pajamas," Amy said, and Sheldon looked back to see her grinning.

She was wearing her pink robe, and it occurred to Sheldon that she wasn't planning on showering with him. It was a disappointing thought. He loved the afterwards of everything the most, and, although falling asleep with Amy wrapped around him was wonderful, they'd both fallen asleep too quickly for him to relish the afterwards the way he wanted. Plus, he enjoyed being naked with her, just as he once wondered if they could be, knowing they could be that comfortable and vulnerable with each other. He found he would like to be naked with her again, just for that soft honesty if for nothing else.

"Very well. I'll be brief."

"Don't rush. Take your time." Then she turned and walked out of the bathroom, turning in the door way to give a tiny wave.

After his shower - truly one of the best of his life - he put on the pajamas and padded back to the bedroom just in time to see Amy slipping into a freshly made bed, the sheets a pale pink as opposed to the cream patterned ones that had been on the bed earlier.

"You changed the sheets," Sheldon said as he climbed in next to her.

"I thought you might prefer clean ones," Amy replied as she turned off the light and they both slid under the covers.

Overcome with gratitude and emotions he did not know the name for, he reached for her, hugging her as tightly as he could. "Thank you," he whispered into her hair.

"You're welcome. But this is a little tight."

Sheldon released her just enough that he could look down at her. Amy smiled back up and then snuggled her head against his chest. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Well, I did prepare a survey about my performance and your satisfaction rating but it can wait until morning if you prefer."

"Whatever the highest number is for all the questions, that's my answer."

"Now, don't be too hasty," he chided softly, although he smiled. "You haven't seen the questions yet. There's even an essay portion."

"I love you. That's it, that's the entirety of my essay."

His eyebrows went up, but then he nodded. "I love you, too."

"What was your favorite part?" Amy asked, but her question ended with a yawn.

"This," Sheldon answered, kissing the top of her and closing his eyes as he held her close.

"I look forward to your next birthday when we do it again."

"Sheldon, you don't have to make breakfast."

"Yes, I do. It's a time-honored tradition that the first time a woman allows a man to use her bed and her body for sexual pleasure that he makes her breakfast. Go shower. That hair isn't going to detangle itself."

By the time the French toast was done, Amy had reappeared, her hair wet and stringing down her back, wrapped up in her robe again. After she reassured him she didn't want to dry her hair, they sat down to eat.

"This is delicious!" Amy said. "I'm starving."

"You wouldn't be if you'd let me fill you up you last night."

Amy winked at him. "Who said you didn't?"

He looked over at her, confused. Based on her wink, though, he surmised this was some sort of innuendo, and he just shrugged. She continued smiling as she ate with gusto, and he watched her, the way she kept glancing over at him with such a bright, happy face.

"Amy," he said softly, touching her forearm to still her hand. "I think we should talk about last night."

Her eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. "I already told you my answers to the survey."

"No, not that." He took a deep breath. "I want to make sure something that was said was understood and meant."

Amy's smiled faded as she lowered her fork. "Of course I know you meant it. It's not like you to say something you don't mean."

"No, I meant . . . what you said. When you agreed to only annual coitus." He slid his palm down to capture hers. "As you know, there's a flood of hormone-induced emotions immediately post-coital, so I want to make sure you didn't speak in haste."

Her face shifted again, but it remained an unreadable mask. "Oh. I didn't realize I had a say in the schedule."

"Amy!" He gripped her hand harder. "You always have a say."

She gave a half nod. "But you did enjoy it, correct? I assumed you meant that, too."

"Yes, I did." He licked his lips. This was important to Amy, and so he continued, "I wasn't sure I would. While the idea was not repulsive to me because you're not repulsive to me, I thought the act would be as ambivalent as the idea of it is. I thought I would remain neutral. But . . ."

"Yes?" Amy prompted him as he gathered his thoughts.

"But it was a positive experience. I enjoyed being intimate with you because of how close we were. It was immensely satisfying to share the experience with you and only you. I liked seeing your reactions, how much you enjoyed it. I've - I've never imagined your face could be so . . ." He let it fall away without a word, because the word for her face as she orgasmed did not exist. "I was especially . . . undone by your fingers on my spine." He paused to sigh softly. "But . . . I'm sorry, Amy, I don't feel an urge to do it again anytime soon. You know I never have been interested in coitus for its own sake, and I find that now I'm only interested in it because you're a part of it."

"If - if you ever find you want to do it more than once a year, you'll tell me?" she asked.

"Of course." He paused. He considered telling her, for the sake of honesty, about those periodic moments - seconds, really - that he had felt something that he thought had been sexual desire. But Sheldon quickly decided against it. Last night, which he felt was the ultimate test, had not yielded such a sensation. On one hand, that was good; he hadn't lasted nearly as long as he'd practiced even without it, and he shuddered to think if some force had shortened his performance even more. But, on the other, it sounded hurtful to his own ears to tell Amy he hadn't sexually desired her. Furthermore, he had enjoyed it: being as close with Amy as it was possible for any two people to be, sharing something so profound with her, something they could never share with anyone else, ever again; but the difference between enjoyment and desire stymied him in the bright light of morning.

Instead, he said, "And it's only fair if you tell me that you think once a year isn't enough for you, either. We'll address the schedule together."

Amy squeezed his hand back. "I know this didn't come naturally to you, and I can't believe you wanted to share it with me. I - I honestly wondered if it would be the only time or if you wouldn't be able to . . . finish; I'd prepared myself for that. I want to make love with you again, but only when you want the same thing. I love you, Sheldon, and I know this is something we can make work for us. It's more important to me to share my life with you than it is to share sexual intercourse with you."

Sheldon leaned over and kissed her cheek softly. He had a whole year to discover the difference between enjoyment and desire, and he knew he could do it with Amy's love.

To be continued . . .

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