What has this vixen done to me? This thought prevailed amongst the thousand that barraged his system. The problem was, he couldn't make sense of a single thought when his body was in control of all his actions. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on the situation at hand. How had it come to this? How exactly had this hotsy-totsy from Glendale enslaved him?
Amy had embarked on an experiment- with his consent, of course - to increase his affections for her. Anything for the advancement of science, right? He had thought her silly at the time and that this mirror of the work of Ebbinghaus would be a failure. How could his affections be even greater? He already held her in the highest regard, after all. She was his only intellectual equal, and, in fact, the only woman that had ever intrigued him. There was no one in his acquaintance that he felt such a kinship and companionship. She was brilliant, sassy, and outrageously pleasing with her green eyes and deep chestnut hair.
What had she hoped to accomplish with this mission? She had already challenged his mind and engaged his senses- yes, all of his senses. At their very first meeting, in that coffee shop, he had sensed something different about her, something more. He had shoved the feelings of attraction down deep inside in order to protect himself and his perfectly ordered world. His meditation and Kolinahr had practically become a daily ritual, needed to fend off his baser urges.
Still, she had wormed her way into his heart, so much so he couldn't perceive life without her presence. And to what lengths had she gone to make sure her position was secure? Super Mario Brothers music, Strawberry Quick, Spaghetti with hot dogs, and TRAINS! All his favorite things were slowly being assimilated. Now he would never be able to disassociate her from these memories and the feelings they provoked. She was crafty, his Amy. Of course, he would never expect anything less than pure genius from his girl.
That's how he had found himself here: laying on the couch, with his head in his spot and his feet towards the door. Opening his eyes, he hungrily watched as her posterior swayed while she continued her ministrations. Regardless of his struggle to maintain the status quo, eventually his jealousy- and his affection- had worn down his resistance. He had succumbed to the pedestrian and symbolic pair-bonded relationship. Now, he used logic and reason to defend their partnership. There was no one better suited for his genius, after all. She was the Watson to his Holmes, the River to his Doctor, the err…. Nurse Chapel to his Spock.
She certainly was the Nurse Chapel to His Spock. There was no denying it, and he was quickly reaching Pon Farr. Dressed in federation blue, in her short skirt, her cunning black boots, and legs for days, she looked like she had stepped right out of every erotic dream he had ever had- and there had been countless dreams as of late. He couldn't stop looking at her as she passed the tricorder over his body, measuring his "vital signs". It was a good thing the instrumentation she used wasn't real, or she would most definitely have noticed a marked increase in his blood pressure and heart rate. His breathing was becoming rather labored as well. Perhaps he should have her attend to his medical needs?
Just as he was about to speak his request for assistance aloud, there was a noise at the door, and he felt himself flush with anger at the interruption. He lifted his head stiffly from the cushion of the couch and watched Amy turn to face the door as well. Leonard's confusion was clear on his features as his eyes took in the scene before him. Amy explained that they were playing doctor, Star Trek-style, before Leonard grinned widely at them. Torn between honoring the facade of implacability he had always displayed, or giving in to his senses and outrightly admitting his affection for Amy directly, he was at a loss for words. He had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, as it were.
Making eye contact with his friend, he opted for honestly. "I'm in hell, Leonard." Allowing his eyes to wander back over Amy's uniformed curves once again, he made a startling realization: maybe this wasn't hell, maybe this was heaven. She was tantalizing and mesmerizing, and she was playing out his fantasies before his very eyes. Any other men of his acquaintance would not hesitate to accept this as…as a gift. His epiphany realized, he could admit he wanted her quite desperately. She had stopped her casual motions of examination and her eyes belied her vulnerability. Under her mask of confidence, she was afraid she had gone too far with her experiment. He could see she felt both rejected and concerned at his response to Leonard. Without even thinking about the ramifications of his actions, he heard his voice order her to continue: "Don't stop!" he commanded. His friend turned to go, leaving them alone, and he sighed in relief and laid his head back down to the cushion. He didn't fully understand what was happening or why, but he instinctively knew that she had awakened something deep within, and now? Now, he wanted —needed— to see this through to completion.
Tension was palpable in the room as Amy turned back to him, shifting slowly toward him. Her hands were mere inches above his body, as she "examined" him. She didn't touch him. In fact, if he weren't watching her every move, anticipating and longing for her touch, he would not have perceived her hands moving so imperceptibly over him. Her eyes never met his, but instead were fixed upon the tricorder, her expression one of interest and discernment. Her lips were pursed as she studied the "readout" of the tricorder. She was completely in character.
And she was driving him completely crazy. He wanted nothing more than to feel her fingers brush over his body.
"Amy," his entreated, his voice low and gravelly, and nearly unrecognizable to his own ear. He was pleading. She didn't respond. Of course, she wasn't Amy now, was she? She was Nurse Chapel. "Nurse Chapel?" he began, "What's your diagnosis?" His eyes met hers, and he thought he may very well die from the intensity of their shared gaze.
"You appear to be perfectly healthy. All is well." Her smile was quick and full of fun. "I'm all done with your exam." She turned away toward the coffee table, making a production of folding and packing the tricorder away.
All certainly was not well. Sheldon felt like he could crawl out of his own skin, so deep was the desire crawling along his nerve endings.
"Commander Spock, you can sit up now. I found no abnormal readings." She went to move away from his side, but he reacted without preemptive thought and grabbed hold of her wrist to keep her at his side.
"Wait. Are you certain, I still feel… out of sorts. Perhaps a more thorough exam is required to alleviate my agitation."
"I promise you, I am always thorough, Sir, but if you feel a physical exam is required, I would be happy to oblige you." Her voice, though still playful, was suddenly breathy. He felt the tension in his body tighten as she edged closer, and leaned over his still supine position. "Close your eyes," she whispered into his ear. He did as he was told. Then her hands began to drift ever so slowly over him, just barely along the surface of his skin. She touched her palm first to his forehead, as though checking for a fever. Sensible: He certainly felt hot all over. But then, she ran her fingers through his hair, igniting a tingling fire in their wake. Those fingers then made a whisper-light trail along the outermost part of his ear and down the curve of his neck. He inhaled sharply, feeling the deep tug of arousal in his lower abdomen. Her hand continued its imperceptible touch along his collar bone and down across his chest. When her fingers trailed over his nipple beneath his t-shirts, he swallowed a low moan.
His fingers, still circling her wrist, grasped her hand tighter and pulled her wrist to his lips, brushing them lightly against the soft skin there. Instinctually, his tongue parted his lips and tasted. Taken aback by his own actions, and the delicate flavor he found there, his eyes sprung open at Amy's soft gasp of surprise. She tasted sweet and he craved more. She leaned over him, her face mere inches from his, and when her eyes met his, he knew she felt the same need as him.
Without reservation, he closed the gap between them, capturing her lips with his: This kiss was much more potent than he had expected, and his whole body trembled in its wake. Reaching up, his arms wrapped lightly around her as his tongue pressed itself against her lips, seeking entry. As her tongue caressed his, his body became a living flame, and with a mind of its own, he pulled her down to him. She felt so good against him, so warm and soft. He would just enjoy the taste of her upon his tongue for a moment, and then he would set things straight. This was just a role play after all. He wasn't actually in Pon Farr, no matter the desire he felt.
Gliding his hands down her curves, he grasped her posterior and groaned aloud. She was everything he imagined and more. The feel of her was incredible. Her full weight was upon him now and he found himself nestled between her legs. Her skirt had inched up and beyond the curve of her bottom. He was rock-hard, and his hips naturally pressed up and against her heat, seeking carnal connection. He heard her moan as she ground herself against him in response. The friction was mind-blowing. He had never felt this way before. His body was alive with electricity and the current was passing through him at an accelerated rate. Almost of its own volition, his right hand slipped underneath her skirt to find better purchase on her bottom.
Their kisses were desperate and intense as need built to an unfathomable pitch between them. Taking her bottom lip into his mouth, between his teeth, he let out a guttural grunt. Her hand had made its way under his shirt and her fingers ran through his chest hair, while her other slipped down to his pants and gently grasped his manhood through the fabric of his khakis. His hips answered and he pressed himself against her palm. He was gulping air like a drowning man. In answer to her gentle exploration, his hand came to rest upon her breast.
"Oh, Sheldon," she groaned, breaking character, though to his mind she had long ago stopped being Nurse Chapel and he, Spock. She was his Amy, only his Amy. And she was his alone. As his name slipped from her lips, something inside him broke. He felt the shift and all his rational reasons as to why they should stop flew out the window in a storm of sensation. His hindbrain had taken over, and any control he had? It just snapped. He grabbed hold of her hips, and pulled himself to a seated position, so that she sat astride him, her skirt bunched above her hips.
His kisses made their way to her neck, where his tongue left a hot trail across the point of her pulse. Her hand held his head there and she let out a long, desperate hum. His hand reached for the zipper on her uniform and before either could think of objecting, he had pulled that zipper down. Pulling her dress up he broke their kiss just long enough to tug it over her head and fling it out of his way. He dove back into her lips as his hands slid sensually up her sides to take her breasts into his palms. She wasn't wearing a bra, and he hummed appreciatively. Overcome with the feel of her against his hands, he groaned again as he felt her soft hands run over his chest. Suddenly, she pulled away, tugging at the edge of his t-shirts. She was impatiently pushing his t-shirts up. Impatient himself- to have her hands on him again- he grabbed hold of his shirts and roughly pulled them up, and off they went, across the room to join her dress upon the floor.
Without words passing between them, his mouth found her breast and he pulled the nipple between his lips, suckling as though on a piece of juicy fruit. Moaning, her hands were working at the buttons of his pants. "Sheldon", she groaned, grinding her hips against him. "I… please. OH!" Suddenly he had grabbed her hips and lifted her off him as he stood. He pulled her up to stand within the circle of his arms. He looked at her deeply, trying to convey his feelings with his eyes.
"I want you, Amy. Now. Do you want to?" He held his breath waiting for her response to his statement. Her eyes widened for a moment, and she was struck dumb. Her chest rose and fell swiftly as though she were having trouble breathing.
"Yes," she said quietly, nodding and breaking the spell that had been cast between them.
"Good." he murmured. He pulled her in for another searing kiss, pulling her flush against him. His hands went down to her bottom and gave her a boost up. She wrapped her legs around his body, as he carried her to the bedroom, their lips colliding over and over in battle of need. Arriving at his bedroom, he pressed her back against his door and let her feet fall to the floor. His hands continued to glide up and down her sides for a moment and then he pulled himself away from her. His attention went briefly to his clothes, where he took no time at all to rid himself of his shoes, socks, and pants. He looked up, seeing her glancing at the hard bulge in his briefs. His cheeks reddened, but he placed his embarrassment aside. It was long past time for self-doubt.
He took her hand and pulled her- a bit roughly- toward the bed. He teasingly slid his tongue across her lips as her legs made contact with the back of the bed. Breaking the kiss, he gave her a slight push, causing her to fall back against the comforter. He knelt at her feet, his eyes raking across her nearly naked body, only covered now by the arm she held shyly across her breasts, her tights, and these sexy black boots.
"These boots may have been my undoing you know." He spoke playfully now, as his fingers made short work of the zipper. Her eyebrows raised as she smiled coquettishly at him. He pulled one boot from her leg and ran his hands lightly up to her knee and back down before moving to her other leg, removing that boot as well. His hands followed a pathway up to the edge of her tights, and grasping the edge, he pulled them down, along with her panties. Tossing the tights and panties away, his hands returned to her left foot, where he proceeded to slide his hands up her leg and press tiny, teasing kisses against her the inner part of her leg as he made his way up her body.
He barely recognized this man, the one kneeling in between his soon-to-be lover's legs, but he was following his natural instinct, wherever it might take him. His need was great, and his trust in Amy -and affection for her- even greater. Giving the same tempting treatment to her other leg, he continued further up, pressing kisses against her inner thigh. He heard her hum deep within her throat as he inched closer to her center. Surprising himself, he grazed his fingers across her folds. She was wet and hot and it was so easy to slip his finger into her. Tight, and slick, she pulsated around him. Experimentally, he gently slid his finger back and forth before slipping a second finger within her. He heard her deep inhalation of breath as her hips raised to meet his fingers' movements: Fascinating. He felt her slither to the comforter; a groan gurgled from her throat. He smiled smugly, feeling insanely proud. The scent that lingered here was more arousing than he had imagined.
Bracing himself, he pressed a kiss there, feeling nervous, but hungry to taste her here, in her most intimate place. Everywhere else tasted sweet, why wouldn't this? He felt her tremble beneath him, and the sensations and movements against his mouth urged him to let his tongue slip against her. She tasted like Amy, sweet and clean and deep. He suddenly had a new favorite flavor. He laved and tasted like a man starved, continuing his ministrations with his fingers. She cried out his name, and her responsiveness and her taste invaded his senses. Consumed with greed, he drove her up and over the crest. Only when he felt her legs relax around his ears, did he move away and stand. His eyes moved over her listless body, as she laid, as relaxed as he had ever seen her. He smiled again at his success. Obviously, he excelled at this as well. He moved to the bathroom and swiftly rinsed his hands. before returning to her.
His erection was intense and was now pressing against his briefs. He was desperate for release. He pulled them down and then moved back over to Amy, who still lay upon the bed, with a smile upon her face, and her eyes closed. He worried for a moment that she had fallen asleep, but when he moved to sit upon the bed, she opened her eyes and reached for him. He laid beside her and she kissed him. She pressed his shoulders into the bed and crawled on top of him, kissing a trail down his chest.
When she blew air across his nipple, he shivered violently. Her tongue sneaked over the tip and he reached out to grasp her breasts and rub his thumb over her nipples, they hardened instantaneously. She groaned and arched her back which pressed his erection against her heat. He groaned and lifted his hips. She slipped her hand between their bodies and grasped his hard shaft, and she pumped up and down at the same time as she grazed his nipple with her teeth. He felt his arousal jackhammer. He bolted up to a near-seated position and felt himself press up, the tip of his penis pressing between her folds. "Ummmm, yes…" she moaned.
"Now, I need to be inside you now," he commanded. His patience had run out. His hips arched up and he pressed himself inside her as she arched her back to accept him within her. His body screamed for release when he felt her walls tightly wrap around him. He gritted his teeth to keep from coming. He pulled her down against him and kissed her deeply to absorb her cry. He held himself still for a moment to allow them both to adjust to powerful sensations of their mating. She was scorching like fire around him and he nearly lost himself right there. "Amy, you feel so good. So good." And when he thought it couldn't get any better, she began to move. Tentatively at first, but she gained both speed and momentum as she rocked mindlessly against him. "Amy, Amy, more, oh faster, please baby." He called her baby as though he had called her that a thousand times and her name was a mantra on his lips, as she impaled herself upon him in a heated rush. His hands moved swiftly up and down her body.
"Yes, Sheldon, yes. Oh God, yes." Watching her ride him was an experience he could never have anticipated, the act itself outrageously arousing. He knew he was close and he didn't know if she was, so he reached blindly toward her, desperate to see her lose herself again. Using his thumb, he made rough circles over her clitoris, and she moved quicker and faster above him. Watching her breasts bounce, he felt his abdomen clenching. When her walls clenched and pulsated all around and she was shaking violently above him, he grabbed hold of her hips to pull her hard and fast against him, again and again. When he had ridden out her orgasm- barely- he flipped her in a swift move and began to thrust into her wildly. She raised her legs around him and he felt himself slip further into her wet abyss. With each stroke, the tension twisted within him. Filled with a need to consume and possess, he pounded into her and cried out her name, "Amy. Mine, mine, my Amy." He locked his eyes with her in a desperate need for connection.
"Sheldon, god, I love you." At her words of love, he was suddenly overwhelmed with an ocean of love for her. He could hold out no longer: He felt himself implode, burying himself roughly inside her, emptying all that he was into her. Holding him tightly inside her, she reached for his face and kissed him deeply as their breathing calmed and their bodies cooled. Once he could think cognitively again, he rolled again, pulling her atop his chest. She laid her head against his chest, as he ran his hand gently back and forth over her back. Love; what a strange thing to realize when once sated by her body. His logical brain knew that this all-compassing love hadn't just appeared. No, he reasoned it must have been here all along. Flooded with a deep desire to share his love not only with her but with the world, he angled his head upon hers to lay upon hers.
"Your skin is so soft," he commented, pressing a kiss to her temple, and then he continued softly, "I love you, Amy."
"Hmmm. I know," she commented, purposefully mixing franchises.
"Hey!" He gave her a playful slap on the arm.
"I know, that's Star Wars." She giggled sweetly and then sighed contentedly, nuzzling into him affectionately. "Doctor, Star Trek-style might just be my new favorite."
"Mine too." he agreed.
"Maybe Star Trek isn't so bad after all." she quipped.
"I always knew you'd come around. It's only logical." Grinning, he kissed her as he felt the first stirrings of new arousal. Star Trek Style, indeed.