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It turns out it is fairly easy to be a boyfriend. He is not sure in fact why Leonard and Howard seem to find it so bewildering. He makes sure to complement Penny when he finds her attractive, allows her to hold his arm when they go out for dinner and to hold hands with her in the movie theatre. Having lived with her for a few months with no ill effects, he supposes that his cornhusker antibodies have multiplied to such extent that he is immune to her.
Her germs at least.
The more that she touches him, smiles at him, and wears her hair down, he finds his resistance to her physical attractiveness fading. Where before he could look at her in tiny denim shorts and be satisfied with the thought that she looks good, now he has to fight to not touch her and see what those silky smooth legs feel like. All scientists require data, but before it was enough to know, now he wants to experience.
It's making him rather more twitchy than usual.
So when she walks into his office and sits down on the desk in front of him, he doesn't hiss that she is sitting on a months worth of data scribbles, or that desks are not made for sitting on, he just stares wide eyed and shoves his hands under his legs to hold them down.
The shorts are shorter than usual, her skin more luminescent, and he could swear she has scented her legs with coconuts. His tongue flicks out to run over his bottom lip, and he simultaneously wonders if her legs taste like coconut too, and what on earth she wants.
But she is telling him what she wants. She is asking him why he has been so twitchy, and hiding away in here.
He is having trouble paying attention, his eyes are on her legs, the hem of those short shorts, the ribbon of silky blonde hair that has fallen over one shoulder and down her chest to hang in front of her stomach, six inches from his nose.
He breathes in Kiwis.
His mind supplies the image of the shampoo he noticed in the shower yesterday, the one that he couldn't resist sniffing.
Her hand is on his chin and he drags his eyes back to hers slowly.
"Your pupils are dilated." She comments with a smile.
He stands up suddenly so she can't see his pupils so well, but there isn't as much blood in his head as there usually is, so he finds himself stumbling against the desk and reaches out to steady himself.
His hands are on her legs. Her bare, coconut scented, legs.
He freezes, and sucks in his breath on a shocked note, but his fingers aren't paying attention. Soft, they note. Smooth. Warm. Very warm.
They slide a bit, up, and then Penny is laughing and her hands are on his, guiding them. "So that is what the problem is... Sheldon, it's okay to touch me. You are my boyfriend, and I think I will enjoy it. It's just another form of kissing." She explains in a low voice, guiding his hands to her hips and then reaching up to pull his head down so she can look in his eyes.
Kissing. Yes, he does enjoy that...
He swallows, and she presses a gentle kiss to his closed lips, whispering words against his mouth. "Touch me...Please."
His forehead rests against hers, and his eyes flutter shut, his breathing slows. His fingers begin to wander, collecting data.
Some places are warm. There are hard places and soft places, and places that make Penny moan. He is exploring her body with his fingertips like a blind person reading Braille, and he finds that he can read Penny better like this, with his eyes closed.
She is laying back across his desk now, with her legs still on either side of him, resting on her elbows, just watching him, and feeling.
Enjoying.
His fingers are really quite good.
And then one goes where it hasn't before, and she falls back with a thump and a groan, and by touch he knows that she is not filled with revulsion or fear but that she likes where his fingers are going.
Wet, hot, places.
His eyes open, and he can't really believe what he is doing, but he can see it, so it must be true, and see also that her eyes are half closed in pleasure, her hands clenching in restraint.
She wants to touch him too.
He leans over her to give her a kiss, as he can't think what else to do, and then her legs wrap around him, forcing his fingers deeper, and the moan is louder. Her lips on his, moving, her hands gripping his shoulders and the back of his neck, her body moving against his.
He pulls his hands away only to take off the shorts his fingers have slipped up, because it is uncomfortable to move his wrist at that angle, and suddenly he wants to be comfortable. She seems to want to be comfortable to, because she is pulling off her shirt, and his, and twisting her hips to get her shorts off faster. Once his fingers return to the spot that she likes, her hands slow, and slide down his chest, reaching for the button on his pants.
They are feeling more tight than usual, so he kicks them off.
She lets him discover until she can't bear it any longer, and cries out for more. He is confused, until she shows him with what he can go deeper, and it's vaguely shocking, because he had not anticipated this until after they are married, or that it would feel so good, but with her hand on him, any objections his brain half offers fly right out his ears.
Her hand on him feels so much better than when he does it. He supposes that it must be the softness of her palm, her shorter fingers, or the unpredictability of not knowing the next move, but his body doesn't want to think that much, and she is sitting up and pulling something from his drawer.
Why must Wolowitz fill his drawers with condoms when he is not looking? He knows very well that they will not be used... Except, oh, what is she...
She has slid it on him and pulled him into her, and his eyes flare open, his jaw drops, and a most unearthly sound fills the room.
He has never thought that his first time will be on his desk.
But then it is where he does his best learning...