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CHAPTER 28

There is something a bit sad about returning to her apartment all by herself. Amy kicks off her sneakers and then carefully arranges them in her designated footwear space.

It isn't the anticipation of a short time alone that bothers her. Amy is more than used to a solitary existence, and the fact that she and Sheldon each take the time to go out and do their own things seems like a healthy thing for a couple that is still trying to cobble together a workable living situation. While he is the undisputed love of her life, the man she admires more than anyone else on Earth, and the smartest person she has ever known, if they didn't do some things on their own, they would surely start to drive each other nuts. If Sheldon wants to stay and finish up a few games with his friends, then that's a good thing. It's not like they're joined at the hip.

Okay, so a more literal lack of a hip joining might be why she's feeling out of sorts. After finding Sheldon's love letter today and then her subsequent discussion with Penny and Bernadette, Amy has been hoping that this might finally be the right time for her and Sheldon to make her mother's fornication nightmares come true. Now that she has recovered from her injuries, and they have successfully generated a number of potential progeny with the aid of modern day reproductive assistance technology, there is nothing left to hold them back.

Well, there's nothing to stop them but the force of their own sexual inertia. She shakes off the brief fit of pessimism. It's not warranted. His bedtime is still two hours from now, and Sheldon spending a bit more time with his friends in no way negates the possibility that he intends to rock her world later.

The thought adds some more sweat to her already sweaty workout clothes. Yoga with the girls was not overly taxing, but weeks of inactivity have left her unaccustomed to even moderate activity. Amy makes her way over to her bedroom to gather clothes for after her shower.

Assessing the contents of her dresser drawers has never been so complicated. Her things are tucked away with precise tidiness, having been subjected to one of Sheldon's reorganizational binges. The new arrangement leaves some space for his own attire, though most of his clothes still remain at 4A. Truth be told, she isn't bothered at all by him meddling with her things. If organizing her apartment helps him feel more comfortable with their rapidly changing relationship dynamics, than she is more than happy to leave him to it. In any case, finding what she needs is simple. Deciding what to wear, however, is a different and much more puzzling issue.

She doesn't own much in the way of provocative garments. The one or two things she owns that even come close tend to be both uncomfortable and impractical. And in all likelihood, Sheldon wouldn't be enticed by that kind of thing anyway. If it's going to happen tonight, then she might as well be herself and dress in her normal nightgown. He has always seemed to be fond of her just the way she is, so there's no point in making herself uncomfortable. After spending her youth feeling constantly out of place, it still comes as a bit of a surprise that he feels that way, but her handsome genius has always been a bit of an odd duck.

He isn't likely to be back for at least an hour, perhaps more if they get very involved with their competition. Amy rushes through her shower routine nonetheless, figuring that she can calm her nerves with a bit of light reading when she gets out. It would be good for her.

After toweling off, she dresses and runs a brush through her hair. Looking in the mirror to do so, she is pleased to find that her mind is free of any negative thoughts about her body. Her brief dalliance with danger taught her to focus on the more important parts of her life. She has the love of the only man she wants, her body is healthy, and with Sheldon's assistance, she has several fertilized eggs stored in a lab somewhere, making her premature ovarian aging into nothing more than a mere inconvenience.

Some people might find it weird, but to Amy, it somehow feels right that their gametes first came to know one another in a petri dish. The idea of their potential offspring hanging out in a lab makes her smile. There is no guarantee that she will ever successfully have a child even if they choose to try, but the harsh reality is that no one else gets any such guarantees either.

Comfortable without a robe, she grabs a book off her nightstand and starts thumbing through the pages to find the spot where she left off. The layout of her apartment is ingrained in her spatial memory, so she navigates back to the living room while reading the first paragraph, unconcerned about bumping against any walls.

Amy glances away from the book to make sure that her rear end will land on the couch when she sits, and she is startled by the sight of Sheldon sitting in his spot on the other end. Her heart speeds up, and she reflexively brings up a hand to cover it. It takes her a few seconds to recover enough to speak, but she isn't really frightened, just surprised. Sheldon isn't scary at all.

"What are you doing back so soon? I figured you'd be gaming with your friends for quite a while. I would've been happy to wait for you if I'd known you would only need twenty minutes or so."

He is staring at her with an intensity that makes her feel shy. She looks down at herself, but doesn't see anything wrong with her nightgown, and since she brushed and flossed only a few minutes ago, she doubts that she's got any food stuck in her teeth.

"I didn't stay to play more games with the guys," he says. "I stayed to ask Penny and Bernadette a few questions, questions about you and me."

Amy stifles her fleeting moment of bashfulness. It's not a useful emotion, and it's completely irrational. He's only Sheldon. She sits next to him, close enough to feel the heat from his body, but not touching him in any way. "Is something wrong? Do you want to tell me about it?"

He licks his lips, which makes her face feel warm again, but it's not due to shyness this time. "Everything is fine—more than fine. I merely wanted a female perspective."

"I'm female."

His stare drifts from her eyes down her body and then back up again. "I'm aware of that." She sees him gulp before he continues, "Um, I wanted to see if they had any advice for me… about physical intimacy."

Oh. Amy feels her eyebrows rising. "And did they have anything interesting to tell you?"

He shrugs. "In a way. They told me not to be nervous, that I should talk to you, and that everything would be fine."

The familiar advice makes Amy smile. "They told me much the same thing earlier this evening. I think we may have ourselves a little fan club."

He mirrors her smile. "It's enough to make me glad that we're here and not at my apartment."

She nudges his shoulder. "I concur. Privacy can be a good thing."

After a brief, silent staring contest, Sheldon admits, "I don't know what I'm doing. I always have a plan, but this time I don't, at least nothing beyond starting this conversation."

She can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing for these particular circumstances, but she is sure of one thing. "I guess that must be pretty unsettling for you."

He tilts his head. "I'm not so much unsettled as I am uncertain. It's impossible not to be nervous when I don't know what the correct course of action is."

"I'm just as lost at this as you are," she commiserates. It would be nice to sound reassuring, but her voice is becoming shaky. Maybe Sheldon won't notice. She clears her throat, but it doesn't help. "I'm sure that we'll do okay."

Sheldon squints at her. "Your voice sounds funny."

There's no benefit to denying it, so she might as well be honest. "I'm nervous too."

He takes her hand, which is trembling a little, much like her vocal cords. His warm palm is soothing, and after a deep breath or two, she can feel herself calming down. Touching him helps.

"I know you've never exactly been comfortable with touching," she says. "That makes it difficult for me to know how this is going to work."

Lifting their entwined hands, he wiggles them in front of her face. "I've been comfortable touching you for a long time now." His voice becomes more of a mumble when he adds, "If anything, I was too comfortable."

She is having a hard time believing that. "Sheldon, you used to choreograph our interactions in absurd detail. Our anniversary make-out had more stipulations than any other scheduled contact we've ever had."

"Yes, that's a perfect example. You're misunderstanding, though. Those restrictions weren't to avoid contact with you. They were to keep me from touching you too much. The more kissing we did and the more physical contact we had over the years, the more difficult it was to stay under control. It would've been so easy to get carried away, and I wasn't ready to admit to myself that getting carried away like that is perfectly appropriate when it comes to you."

"Oh." Her tiny exclamation feels like an inadequate response to his admission, but it's all that her brain can manage. "Oh."

They sit in silence again for a moment, continuing to hold hands. Amy tries to think of what she should do next. Perhaps Sheldon is pondering the same issue. Eventually, she manages to come up with something that might make him feel a little bit less nervous.

"Do you remember what I told you when you were unsure about learning how to drive last year?"

"Of course. You told me that most adults are stupid, and yet most of them still drive. Given that fact, I should keep in mind that if stupid people can do it, then I would be able to master it soon enough."

"That's right. I suspect that sexual intimacy is much the same. Just about any idiot on Earth can do it. There's no reason for us to worry about something that even stupid people engage in with ease." The thought makes her feel better, and she can see him start to smile as well.

"You do make a fine point, Amy Farrah Fowler." His smile widens to a goofy grin.

That grin gives her a welcome surge of confidence. She takes a deep breath and tugs on his hand. "I'm no expert, but perhaps we ought to move to the bedroom."

He nods without hesitation, and they stand together and walk to her room. There's no one else here, of course, but he closes the door behind them anyway.

Facing her big bed isn't daunting at all. They've slept in here almost every night for the past seven weeks, so at least this step feels familiar. Instead of lying down, however, she sits on the edge of the bed, turned to the side with one leg folded up under her and the other dangling to the ground. Sheldon sits next to her, mirroring her pose. He is so close to her that his knee presses up against her own.

This time he is the one who speaks with an unsteady tone. "You're better now, right? This is okay? I know it's been a week since the egg retrieval, but that was invasive."

She takes both of his hands in hers. "I'm fine. It did take several days, but I feel back to normal now." Squeezing his hands she adds, "Make that better than normal. I feel great."

He returns the gentle squeeze with one of his own. Both his mirrored position and this copied action spark an idea in her mind of how to proceed. It would even help solve one persistent problem that has been lingering in her thoughts. Amy has been concerned about how to take this new step when she is still so uncertain of what Sheldon might be comfortable with.

She bites her lip. "I have a plan, if you're amenable."

Sheldon perks up at the idea. "That would be most welcome. Complete spontaneity is for unordered, lesser minds."

Encouraged, she says, "I know that you explained how you have become accustomed to touching me, but I also know that you have done so only after years of touch aversion."

He gives her a reluctant looking nod, and she wonders if he's ashamed. She continues, "It's okay, Sheldon. It means a lot to me that you've found that I am an exception to that. What I'm trying to tell you is that while you were adjusting to that realization, I was pushing the issue when perhaps I shouldn't have. Anyway, the last thing that I want to happen tonight is for you to feel pressured in any way."

"I don't," he insists, and the strength of his instantaneous reply is reassuring. "This is what I want."

The statement touches her, and she has to clear her throat lest emotion start to muddle her words. "That's good. This is what I want too. And, um, I also want… no, I also need to feel sure that any step we take tonight is one that you are fully content with."

"Very well. How do you suggest we accomplish that?"

"With a little game of mimicry. You decide how you would like to begin, and whatever action you take, I will then do the same. In this way, you can decide what you are comfortable with while still keeping in mind that whatever you choose will be mirrored back to you. I expect it should make for an informative learning experience."

Sheldon lets go of her hands and rubs his palms on his thighs. It is probably a practical gesture rather than a nervous one because his hands were growing unquestionably sweaty. In any case, the movement draws Amy's eyes to his lap, and it becomes clear that at least one part of him is voting an enthusiastic yes to her suggestion.

His voice sounds hoarse when he says, "But what if I do something that you don't want, or if I don't do something that you do want?"

"I can't think of a way that you would touch me that I wouldn't want, but if that somehow happens, I promise that I will stop you." She shrugs, "And as for what I do want, I'm too new at this to even know. It doesn't worry me. You're a genius, and over the course of our experiment here, I bet you will start to figure everything out."

As always, Sheldon looks bolstered by the reference to his own intelligence. He looks her body up and down and says, "I'm not sure where to start."

She smiles. "Start with something simple. There is no wrong choice."

He stretches his unsteady hand towards her, and strokes her cheek with the back of his fingers. Instead of stopping with that simple motion, he extends his index finger and uses it to softly trace the outline of her arched eyebrow.

By the time he finishes and pulls his hand back, she can no longer detect any jitteriness in his movement. She remembers finding the same thing a short time ago. Contact with his skin settled her nerves unlike anything else. Taking her turn, she brushes his cheek and then outlines his brow. There's a slight roughness to his cheek from his day's worth of facial hair growth. It feels ridiculous in proportion to the situation, but even this simple indicator of his maleness is already enough to make her heart beat faster.

She feels a lot less silly when she notices that Sheldon's respiration rate is increasing. He doesn't hesitate to make his next move. This time he follows the curve of her ear with his index finger, and she finds that this body part is more sensitive than she would have expected. When he reaches her earlobe, the rest of his fingers join in, caressing with a light touch down the length of her neck. It almost makes her shiver, but she fights the impulse, wanting to avoid startling him away from his chosen path. He moves with focused intent, not stopping until he finishes sweeping his fingers along the protruding area of her collarbone.

Happy to return the gesture, Amy watches his face while her hand moves. She is enjoying the contact, but she soon finds her access blocked by the cotton of Sheldon's t-shirts. The scoop neck of Amy's nightgown provided plenty of space for him to maneuver without undressing her, but his shirts are more restrictive. She pauses at his collar, unsure of what to do.

Thankfully, Sheldon decides for her, and it is even the decision she would most prefer. He looks a bit bashful while he pulls both of the shirts over his head, but she can sense an eagerness in him as well. Amy ogles his broad shoulders and the cute little bit of hair on his chest. While she knows that she he is only supposed to mirror his movements, she finds herself wanting to run her fingers over that hair. Unable to resist completely, she allows her palm to make incidental contact with the area while she follows the line of his collarbone with her fingers.

When she sits back, he no longer seems modest about having his shirts off. She wonders if she should mirror his shirt removal by pulling her arms out of her nightgown, but before she can decide, Sheldon is already on the move again. He leans in close to her face and runs his finger over the bend in her nose. Amy has never been happy with this part of her body, but he seems to be enthralled. Sliding his hands over to each side of her head, he starts making little circular patterns against her temples with his thumbs while his palms cup her skull. He replaces the spot where his finger traversed with his own nose, gently rubbing their two noses together like he's some rare Californian Eskimo. She enjoys the feeling of his forehead resting against hers, and she has a brief, fleeting memory of Penny's explanation of the third eye chakra.

While their noses get acquainted, she can feel his shallow, rapid breathing near her lips. It is tempting to close the short distance to kiss him, but she has promised to let him take the lead. Her patience is rewarded soon enough, and Sheldon himself moves in to brush his lips against hers. The contact is so gentle that it makes her lips tingle. It doesn't stay gentle for long, though, because once her mouth opens a tiny bit to facilitate her increased respiratory needs, he presses in further to venture forth with his tongue. The feeling of him penetrating her lips is the most intense thing she has experienced with him so far, and she feels her endocrine system humming with anticipation for more.

Too soon, he pulls back, and Amy has to take a moment to calm her panting breaths so that she can take her own turn. When she reaches for his head, cupping the cranium that holds that brilliant mind of his in her hands, she feels a reverence for his intellect—forever her favorite part of him. It occurs to her that perhaps he chose this action for precisely the same reason.

Making a mess of his hair is already a delight, but everything gets even better when she switches from rubbing their noses together to initiating a new kiss. This time Sheldon doesn't even wait for her to pull back before he starts in on his next turn. While he is still kissing her, he removes her hands from his hair to rest at her sides. Then he slides his hands up her arms, capturing the short cotton sleeves of her nightgown in his grasp. When he makes his way back down, he takes the sleeves with him.

Amy can feel the air from the room across her exposed breasts and how the material of her nightgown bunches up near her waist. Sheldon breaks their kiss and leans back to where he can surely see her body. She resists the prudish impulse to cross her arms over her chest, and with the way that he is no longer looking at her face, she suspects that she needn't feel all that self-conscious about what she's got anyway.

When he reaches for her again, she expects him to go straight for a breast, but he rests his palm near the center of her chest instead, where he can no doubt feel her heart trying to pound its way out of her sternum. He glances up from his exploration long enough to smile at her, but his attention soon drifts back down.

He slides his hand over and gently cups her left breast. She would've thought that his first impulse would be grabby, but he seems to be smart enough to be careful. Looking up at her again, he licks his bottom lip and whispers, "I'm not sure how to do this. Is that good?"

Amy nods vigorously to indicate her enthusiasm. Of course it's good. Hell, it's great. It gets even better when he starts exploring her nipple with his thumb. At her inadvertent gasp, he asks again, "Is this okay?"

"This is so much better than okay," she chokes out.

Her mind is spinning so much that it takes her a second to realize that Sheldon has tipped her back onto the bed. Perhaps in the interest of symmetry, he has switched hands to explore her other breast. Lying down leaves him right near her face, and it is a quick trip for him to kiss her lips. When he starts slowly planting other kisses down her neck, the direction he's headed causes Amy to wonder if she might get to experience the unimaginable sensation of his mouth on her chest.

In short order, he does precisely that. She tangles her fingers in the mussed hair of his head and hopes that she will maintain enough presence of mind not to pull on the soft strands. At her breast, Sheldon continues to press gentle kisses against her skin, and she gasps when he arrives at her nipple. Inside her brain, she is screaming at him to use his tongue.

"jatlIj vIlo'!" her mind sputters to itself in Klingon. (1)

When it actually happens, when she feels his tongue on her sensitive skin, Amy starts to wonder if she might have said that out loud by accident. If so, then she probably ruined their Klingon distraction strategy forever. That's fine with her. Sexual repression can ghoS ghe''or. (2)

It's a little bit disturbing that her brain seems to be chugging along in Klingon. She doesn't have to worry about it for long, though, because her mind goes all but blank with pleasure when Sheldon's oral nipple caresses begin to involve suction.

It isn't until he pauses long enough to switch sides that Amy has a brief flash of intellect again. It will soon be her turn to act, but she doesn't really want him to stop. Twixt her nethers, Amy is throbbing with the desire for more. Sheldon is balancing himself on one elbow, and with his free hand, he is nudging her nightgown lower and lower, exposing the flesh of her belly, allowing him to examine it with the light touch of his fingertips.

Eventually, he stops his ministrations and shifts his body back up. Amy misses his mouth on her chest, but she has a new source of stimulation to contemplate. Lying on his side, he is pressed up against her body, and she can feel the unmistakable protrusion of Sheldon's aroused genitalia against her hip and thigh. The compulsion to wiggle against him is strong, and she gives in and briefly rubs her hip against him.

At Sheldon's happy gasp and reciprocal thrust, Amy curses herself for the restriction of her plan. She turns to her side and encourages him to lie flat on the bed. It's not like it's some great hardship to take the time to explore his sexy pectorals. As much as possible, she repeats the same acts that he performed on her. There is no breast tissue that can be cupped in her hand, but she kisses his chest and tests the sensitivity of his largely vestigial man nipples.

Though she has never put her tongue on his body before tonight, his skin somehow tastes familiar. It's not something she can fathom ever getting tired of. Thankfully, she can sense Sheldon's obvious enjoyment of her touches. With her hand pressed up against his chest, she can feel his heart hammering and his lungs battling to supply his body with enough oxygen. Another compelling indicator of his pleasure, he has turned his lower body towards her, and every once in a while she can feel him grind himself against her hip again.

By the time she finishes, he is a ragged, aroused mess every bit as much as she feels. He looks at her with dilated pupils, the blue of his irises down to a thin circle of color. It's his turn to decide what to do with her, and Amy waits impatiently while he thinks it over.

It doesn't take him long to decide. Facing each other on their sides, he reaches for her poor, beleaguered nightgown and starts tugging. Whether it's accidental or intentional, he takes her underwear along with it. The engrossed expression on his face has her leaning towards intentional.

For as confident as he has acted, he sounds a bit vulnerable all of a sudden when he meets her eyes and whispers a request. "Show me what to do?"

With a demure bob of her head, Amy lies flat on her back. Sheldon stays on his side, but she feels him move as close to her as she thinks he could possibly get. His obvious enthusiasm for all of this has made things easier for her at every step.

After taking a deep breath, she follows his request, bending her knees and spreading her legs to make room. She always thought that she would feel hesitant or reserved at a moment like this, but the swamping feelings of lust seem to have effectively quashed any such concerns.

He hovers his hand over her pelvis, and she happily accepts the assistance. Their combined fingers make contact with the abundant wetness between her legs, and the pleasure of his large fingers brushing against all of her sensitive areas makes her gasp out some meaningless sound. She directs his hand into the motion that she most prefers in the region that she most prefers it, and within moments she can feel an empty, desperate sensation growing inside of her.

Release isn't far away, so Amy removes her hand so that she can focus her concentration on the fact that it is Sheldon who is doing this to her. Unfortunately, just after she stops her movements, he does too. He doesn't pull his hand away, though. Instead he starts gently poking around.

Oh. Of course he would want to scope out her interior layout. Having no complaints about that idea, Amy figures it's best to help him out again, so she pushes her middle finger alongside his, allowing them to penetrate her body in unison. In her aroused state, it isn't the least bit difficult, and she enjoys the pressure of his larger digit so much that she encourages him to tuck another one in to move with it. The empty feeling is gone, but the desperate desire remains. With her last remaining bit of sense, Amy maneuvers the base of his thumb to politely point out that he can still make contact with the previous region at the same time.

Her breathing has morphed into a series of gasps, and Sheldon's mouth is right next to hers for every one of them, as it has been the entire time. He has been alternating between staring at his vanishing fingers and watching her face. At the moment, she can see that he is fixated on her eyes, observing her in her complete lack of control.

Her overtaxed neurons cause her to call out, "baQa'… baQa'!" (3)

In an embarrassingly short amount of time, she finds herself clawing at his forearm and tensing with the convulsive force of orgasm. It is the most powerful one she has ever felt, having not been self-generated for once, and she instinctively closes her knees around his arm and clamps down on his fingers so hard that she can only hope she isn't hurting him.

When she regains cognition enough to open her eyes again, Sheldon is still staring at her from a few short inches away. With pink cheeks and a surprised, pleasant expression, he kisses her lips and carefully reclaims his fingers.

He looks very proud of himself, but she also detects a hint of growing uncertainty. She wonders what he could possibly be doubting at a moment like this until she hears him ask, "Um, does that mean we're done?"

Not quite verbal yet, she meets his eyes and slowly shakes her head with a decisive no. He must be kidding. They are most certainly not done. His throat bobs with a strong gulp, and she wonders if it's the fact that she is eyeing him like prey that is making him feel unsettled.

With a gentle shove to his shoulder, she directs him to lie on his back. Her voice sounds raspy, but she manages to say, "It's my turn to repeat your actions, remember?" She smiles before correcting herself, "Well, the analogous equivalent."

His wide-eyed, unblinking gaze does not waver while she unbuttons and unzips his pants. For some reason that she can't quite articulate, his innocent apprehensiveness is incredibly sexy to her. Perhaps it is because she has known and shared the same feelings tonight, and who else but her Sheldon could ever understand?

He lifts his hips and helps her slide off his pants. They have to be more careful with his white underwear, caught as it is on his engorged penis. Having just been through a similar experience, she knows what it's like to be so suddenly exposed in front of the only person whose opinion really matters, so after she tosses his clothes away, she smiles to show her approval. From the top of his ingenious head to the tips of his long, slender toes, he is everything that she could ever want.

To help indicate her admiration, she runs her index finger from the base of his phallus to the tip, using a featherlight motion that is still enough to make him squirm. It seems like a damnable shame that they wasted five years when she could've been playing with this the whole time. The thought makes her smile again, even though she knows that it's not entirely true. They weren't ready until now, and it wouldn't have been the same years ago anyway.

"Very nice," she whispers, wanting to make sure that he doesn't misunderstand her amusement.

Moving from off of her knees, she settles herself at his side to match his previous pose. She hugs his torso briefly before remembering to follow his earlier lead.

She raises an eyebrow and makes her request. "Show me what to do?"

Ever since he admitted to the practice seven weeks ago, Amy has been fascinated by the thought of Sheldon pleasuring himself. She wants to see him wrap his hand around himself almost as much as she wants to get her own hands on him.

He has nodded his agreement, but makes no move to begin. His hesitation starts to worry her until she recalls what he must be waiting for. As he did for her, she holds out her hand in invitation.

Any hesitance he had seems to evaporate in that instant. He palms the back of her hand and directs them both to grip his straining penis. His skin is warm and surprisingly soft considering the swollen state of things. With his guidance, she moves her hand up and down in a slow, rhythmic fashion, and she enjoys the unfamiliar slide of skin over hardness. He has her applying a bit more pressure than she would have guessed at, and he seems to prefer that they concentrate their strokes over the upper half of his shaft.

As they move, his hand engulfs hers such that it looks like he is the one performing the action. While she is fond of the sight, she isn't surprised when he pulls his hand away to leave her to it. His eyes were closed before, but now that it's only her, his gaze is locked on her pumping hand.

She has come to understand his earlier inclination to watch her face. His face and neck are flushed pink and his forehead is wet with sweat. When she does something particularly right, he gasps and she can see the strain in the muscles of his neck. In addition to that, she can feel him harden even further in her hand, a process that fascinates her.

Amy's attention is drawn from his face when Sheldon tugs her hand away. He guides her down and shows her how to gently fondle his testicles. That's especially interesting to her because she would have had no clue how to touch him in that sensitive area. In fact, she would've avoided it completely since it's a spot that she was only aware of as causing pain. In any case, it's a brief side journey, and he soon directs her back to his preferred stimulation.

While she continues to stroke him, Amy returns to her previous observations of his face. She feels privileged to get to see him like this, in this way that no one else ever does. It's a sight she once convinced herself that she would never see.

Jarring her from her thoughts, Sheldon jerks his head up all of a sudden, and she can see his wide-eyed look of panic. Under her fingers, she can feel that it's far too late to stop now. He must have come to the same conclusion because even though he voices a little squeak, he reaches down and wraps his hand around hers again, ensuring that she won't actually stop, not that she would have. In fact, he is encouraging her to pull on him more rapidly instead. A split second later, Sheldon starts bucking his hips against their combined strokes, and he twists his body towards her, ejaculating all over their hands as well as his own lower abdomen.

She suspects that he did not intend for their evening to end in quite this way, but she is fascinated by the feeling of his orgasm pulsating under her hand and the sight of it exploding out of him. It goes on for long enough that she also gets a chance to peek at his scrunchy face of pleasure.

Undeterred by the mess, Amy leans in even closer to him to kiss his cheek and his lips after he finishes. While he catches his breath, she wonders how he will react to the situation. As for her, she can't stop smiling at every flash of memory that flits through her mind. She feels so absurdly light and happy that she can't stop herself from starting to giggle with giddy glee.

It's probably the wrong thing to do, given his little misfire. She hopes that he won't feel insulted, but she just can't help it. The amusement is beyond her control. After several long seconds, he turns to her, and she is relieved to be met by his growing smile and his own amused eyes.

As new and wonderful as all of the other experiences of this evening have been, she is delighted to find herself graced with one final marvel. Sheldon joins in with her, filling the room with his own rarely heard laughter.

(1) Use your tongue!

(2) Go to hell.

(3) Oh, my God… Oh, my God!

—

Note: Dirty, dirty, dirty.

Did anyone spot the brief Firefly/Serenity reference or were you all too distracted?

There's one last chapter to go. No fair guessing what happens next...