Chapter Seventeen: Warm Me
"Were you satiated by your lover?" He raised his eyebrow as Amy entered the bedroom. With his rested, full, and cozy self in the only bed, he had to ask the question.
It had been 3 hours since Amy's disappearance. And she had the confidence to strut inside as if nothing happened. He watched her, her face still blank, walk across the room. When those words burst from his mouth, she transformed into something more smug and vile. He felt like he will be eaten alive.
"Strip," she demanded, smirking but severe. She eyed him like a predator to its prey. Seeing that he's in his pajamas, in bed, indulged in his readings, he more likely appeared as a vulnerable prey to Amy's violent predator.
However, her expressions, although unmistakable, were still cryptic that the brilliant in him couldn't decode. Was she angry? Or maybe sad? Does she have a knife behind her back that would likely be the prime weapon in his devastating murder? Sure, Amy hadn't welcomed her murderous side, but considering all the mean things he'd done to her in the past—both 3 months ago and 3 hours ago—it wouldn't be a surprise if Amy had had enough of it.
She shot another look at him and then said, "I'll be back in 5," storming off to the bathroom.
She'll be back in 5, he contemplated, 5 what? Seconds, minutes, or maybe hours? It baffled him. But Amy always surprises him with what she can do and what she can accomplish. Sheldon just clicked his tongue and continued reading his ScienceDaily newsletter. Oh, Amy, you're silly.
Amy's emergence was a long time coming. With only her robe, the collar where the sides of the cloth meet plunged down to her cleavage, displaying the soft skin of her midriff in a V pattern, she pranced out of the bathroom like a poised ballerina. Sheldon could see that she was naked from the waist up, her nipples were penetrating through the velvet cloth. From the waist down, though, he couldn't tell; it would be disrespectful to stare that long.
Despite the coveted scenery, he just shrugged and returned to his reading. Oh well… maybe she left her change of clothes. Instead, he felt Amy approach him, her presence was strong in her own ways. Still, he wouldn't notice her.
The harsh yanking motion of the comforter against his pajama-clad legs was a dead giveaway. Swoosh… thud. In time, his fight-or-flight response pinged, leaning himself further into the headboard in a futile attempt to flee. Shockingly, there was nothing there to help him.
He looked up at her and asked, rattled, "Amy, what is this?!" He put his hand in his chest in shock.
"What is what?" Amy replied innocently.
She then stretched her leg over his thighs and plopped down his groin area. Sheldon blurted out a muffled moan, a mixture of pain and inexplicable pleasure.
"Umm… A-Amy," he muttered as Amy motioned her hips that almost made his eyeballs roll back. Good Lord! What is that?!
Amy grinned almost devilishly. "I believe you're aware of this."
Without waiting, she dove into him, her lips getting in contact with his. The first few seconds startled him, with eyes so wide and holding his breath. She guided her tongue inside his mouth in a seductive manner. At first, it was a hard battle to succeed. He was protesting softly against her kisses but didn't have the power to push her away.
Oh, Lord! he thought as his breath hitched. He never thought he'd kiss someone this passionate. And for goodness' sake, his body was reacting to it against his will.
Amy had a tight grip on his shoulders as she continued their steamy kiss. A certain movement from Amy prompted the change. She rolled her hips against her groin, ran her finger lightly at the helix of his ear and bit his lower lip, almost pulling on it gently.
Good Lord, indeed. At that tiny but revolutionizing set of movements, he melted, Sheldon loosened his body. It felt like being deflated. He cocked his head, meeting her kisses flawlessly. His hands snaked on her velvety waist, the cloth covering her body resembled nothing like the robe he used an hour ago. Now, he's got the memory of this night to remember when he sees Amy with this robe.
She pulled harshly with the wet sound of their lips separating. "Would I do this to you if I had a lover?" She lifted her hips a little, still leering at him fervently, and caressed Sheldon through his pants.
Another moan elicited from him. "Oh!"
The provocative question was still hanging. He shook his head rapidly, doe-eyed and disoriented, as Amy continued with her hips. No, you wouldn't do this to anyone! he thought, barely matching Amy's heated stare.
Really, he couldn't understand anything she said before asking about something. The only thing he took from that was the word lover. And between Amy's gyrating hips and magical hands against his tenting manhood, and the word lover—the word he utilized as a way of finding out if she had a different man other than him—shaking his head was the only response he could muster. He doesn't know if it corresponds to yes or no.
Amy laughed seductively and dove in again. But this time, she was much slower. He can feel her exhale against his mouth, only to share an inhale, and then exhale again. She ran her palms on his chest, unbuttoning every button and revealing his white shirt underneath. You're still the same, Sheldon. Sheldon stiffened at the sudden contact. With Amy continuing kissing him and him enjoying it, her hand slipped inside his white shirt, his abdomen contracting, almost writhing at the heat from her palm.
He tasted her mouth. He tasted it in this order: An overpowering mint flavor, presumably from her toothpaste, punching him inside; followed by an equally powerful but carelessly concealed coffee taste lingering at the tip of her tongue; and catch it before you breathe was, presumably, an overly sweet confectionary lurking near her throat.
With the little space between his head and the headboard, he pulled away, retreating from her kiss. Breathing heavily, he stared at Amy's eyes, pleasure prevailed as her robe tie was unloosened and what tiny sliver of skin awhile back became what made her torso. He'd never seen the nakedness of a woman before, and the first time seemed to prove that, after all his assumptions, his primal virility was fully functional.
He reddened at the carnal sight. With how close Amy was being, it made him squint his eyes just to get a good look at her. Wow . . . Mesmerizing and a bit terrifying, not by the bare body of Amy but of the prospect of intimacy with her that he long disregarded through the months.
It would be a lie if he didn't appreciate his wife, but it felt disrespectful to look at her that way. He was raised to respect every woman. And Amy was a woman he deeply admired.
"Amy," he wailed, turning his head to the side to avoid staring at her. But he thought it was a bad idea when he felt Amy's lips lapping his exposed neck. It caused him to shiver throughout his body.
"What?" she whispered in a spine-chilling, arousing manner. He felt the air on his ear as Amy breathed on it and pulled away. A faint moan escaped from his mouth, unbeknownst to him.
She retreated again, gaping at the struggling Sheldon. He was biting his upper lip. Amy rubbed her palms on top of his white shirt. When she reached his navel, his abdomen tensed. What made him red, made him even redder when he felt Amy's palm coiled its way beneath the shirt, bare and cold.
"Do you have something to say?" she asked, rubbing circles in his stomach.
Sheldon shook his head. However awkward it may be—with his back against a pillow that was against the headboard—he felt weightless at the interaction. As though he was floating while Amy rode him. It was safe to say that she was in control.
The pleasure got more intense as he felt her hand dropped down. Her hand snaked its way inside his pants. Amy continued leaving kisses on his neck but her hand appeared to have a mind of its own. He felt it as Amy slowly carried her own body to pull away from the fabric that was covering his skin. She dragged his pants enough for her to see him in his glory and stuck it in his knees. His penis, also with a mind of its own, tented in a semi-erection. He was certain he got a glimpse of Amy smirking.
Uh oh. Sheldon protested, using his arms to lift his body as he retreated into the headboard further. It may look like his body was rejecting but his mind was thinking otherwise. That feels magic, he grumbled deeply as he felt her swipe her finger at his head. He heard a haughty hmm from Amy followed by a tiny, beguiling laugh.
"Are we going to have sex, Amy?!" he whined as he watched Amy return back to her position on his groin, now only her panties were the only barrier.
She kissed him again, with no protest from him whatsoever. Grinding herself with nothing but a thin cloth, brought unusual feelings within him. She muttered against his mouth, "No."
"Then what are we doing?!" he replied back inaudibly as Amy's tongue rendered him mute.
She pulled away, their noses touching. "We're simply playing a game, Sheldon."
A game? Is this some kind of sex game? Maybe this was what foreplay meant, he thought to himself, still gazing at her incredulously.
"What kind of game?"
"No need to think about it. Just sit back and I'll take care of you, Darlin'," she whispered in an alluring manner. She tapped her hand on his chest. Electricity yielded everywhere her palm land. Oh, what magic it is.
Darlin! He liquified at the earnest call, again with his eyeballs rolling. What she did next had his head spinning in circles. With her delicate palm, she enveloped him in her hand, contouring his girth and admiring his length.
Before she actually started with anything, her grasp loosened and she whispered in his ear softly, "Do you want me to stop?"
He opened his eyes, shook his head, and closed them back as he leaned and groaned, "No."
A short gasp came out of Sheldon, he retreated his head back onto the headboard, pressing his neck to the cushioned panel. Despite his eyes closed, he can feel Amy's longing stare at him as she pumped him slowly. The way her hand glided flawlessly against his skin was titillating. The slippery feeling was either the first evidence of his arousal or presumably a lubricant Amy had brought from her excursion. However, he couldn't care less, he was inundated with pleasure.
Still, Amy continued on keeping him captive between her thighs, her hand was the only barrier between his and her body touching each other. He felt the soaked flimsy fabric rubbing against his left thigh purposely, as though Amy's thrusting herself into him. But all of it couldn't explain the pleasure brought upon him.
His ordeal could not be topped by anything. Amy's bringing him inexplicable gratification that was overpowering his brilliant mind. Unable to let go, his hands were clutching her hips, almost to the point of her skin reddening. While her right hand was occupied with stroking him up and down and up and down, her other hand weaved inside his shirt and started drawing circles in his right nipple.
His body shivered.
She shuffled on top of him, sliding down his legs. He felt a warm, and damp thing engulf the tip of his manhood. Oh, what fresh hell was that?! He popped open his eyes and saw Amy crawling back with a sly grin on her face. He didn't want to know what happened, but he knew exactly what that was. Thinking about it, it only triggered his urge to finish. Like nothing happened, Amy returned to straddling his thigh, and like a magnet, her hand clung to his shaft.
"Ooooh!" Another moan escaped as he was nearing oblivion. Without any thought, Sheldon jutted his hip high up, thrusting some more. Amy knew what to do and only encouraged it. She jerked him off fervently as her osculation persisted.
Sheldon was unexpectedly vocal. His sought after release erupted came seconds later. Right then and there, he cried a booming moan as his hips uncontrollably quivered, crisp as a call for help. He felt his manhood twitch like never before as he fought to inhale every oxygen molecule in the air. Amy's touch never faltered; she did him until the last drop erupted, which took minutes. It was strong and vigorous unlike ever before.
He panted deeply, again and again as he heard a rustling sound in the background. The literal and figurative weight lifted away from his body. Sheldon's erratic breathing continued on and on as he closed his eyes, his lips trembled with each hiccup-like breath. Sweat beaded all over his body, a tiny wet elongated patch soaked his white shirt. He can feel something moist rubbing all over his body like something had been wiped.
What was that?! he thought to himself. That was indeed out of this world. His groans continued even though he already reached his orgasm.
Featherlike touches ran down his neck and chest as he felt Amy's body near him again. She was standing at the side of the bed. With his ears ringing, he can hear words being whispered to him that his brain wouldn't discern. Like every man, what was brought upon him incapacitated his mental faculties. It was left in the air with only Amy knowing about it. Those words weren't really the top priority at that moment.
He couldn't open his eyes for a long time; the ability to breathe was more important than his ability to see. When he did, he saw the distorted image of a woman walking away from him. It took a while to come back to himself, realizing what recently happened and who he did it with. He was still descending from his high.
What he wanted all night was just to curl up in her bed and read a little to numb himself to sleep. Amy allowed him to have a nap on her bed that afternoon, so it would be selfish of her if she wouldn't share it with him that night. But it seemed like Amy had other plans. Plans that she, and eventually he, found gratifying to cap off the night.
By all means, he's no fool; he knew exactly what happened. He'd done it with himself to perfect shooting his semen inside a cup that one time he and Leonard needed to masturbate for money. Not only that but he'd read about the benefits of masturbating and was convinced of its efficiency to ward off certain illnesses. Obviously, once a month of fondling himself was below the suggested amount of fondling, which was more than what he could handle, but it became a ritual of him to do it on every 3rd Saturday of the month.
Those sessions didn't kill him though, it simply made him relieved and a bit tired. But when Amy did it to him, Sheldon was sure he was on the brink of passing out.
He can see the figure coming back now from the bathroom. Her robe was tightly clasped on her waist. As for him, his checkered blue and black pajama top was unbuttoned, his white undershirt revealed. He's like a sweaty trucker resting at a truck stop, hoping to have some ribs on the gas station diner. The lower half was the explicit, R-rated one. His pajama pants were stuck to his knee, alongside with his night briefs, revealing what's left of his limp shaft.
Unlike his blurry vision seconds ago, he can clearly see with his two very eyes the woman responsible for his heinous act. He reddened as Amy stood stock at the door frame, their eyes locked together astonishingly. With the remaining strength that he had, he stood up—faster than usual, causing his vision to swirl—wrestled with wearing back his pants, all the while trudging his spent body into the bathroom and locking himself in.
He looked at his shaken and pasty self. Stained circles were visible both in his white shirt but mostly on the edges of his pajama bottoms and shirt. Clearly a sign of what happened and Amy's effort of removing the thick, sticky liquid but not the stain it left.
Cold water ran down his neck as he washed his face in the sink. He grabbed the towel and rubbed his face harshly, but with every passing minute he slowed down. As much as he wanted to return back and confront Amy, the body was not willing. As luck would have it, another door in Amy's bathroom leads to a small laundry room with another connection out to the living room via an archway.
Brushing his teeth, his usual habit of doing everything twice was overlooked. He can't even recognize his face anymore as it was so difficult to comprehend at that time.
He wished her apartment had 2 bedrooms, that way he can sleep in peace after that humiliating encounter. However, the sole bedroom gave privacy for the both of them to recove and think about their rendezvous.
He dragged his jelly legs to the living room and plopped himself onto Amy's beloved La-Z-boy. The barely 5 feet loveseat was another option, but he would rather have the entirety of his body touching a mattress rather than having only to curl up on one side. That would cause even more back pain.
Pondering on how the hell was he so sleepy at 9 in the evening, time flew by and he dropped into a post-orgasm deep slumber.
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