The Fourth Time (takes place after Hector and the Search for Happiness)
"Remember the first day we went back to work after Valentine's Day? And you slammed the door? That was a steamy love affair sort of surprise."
"Of course I remember. It was the fourth time we made love. I will admit to you my work was absolutely non-existent for two weeks that February."
He had been waiting, and a zing of excitement went through him when he heard the door open and saw Amy enter, her hands full of grocery bags. For the previous two days, he had been in a work fog, running through the motions of his life as his mind raced with his new idea and his hands strived to keep up. He knew that Amy understood, she had never seemed to mind these occasional bursts in the past; but this was the first work fog since Ada, and he realized, shuddering out of it, that perhaps he had left Amy with too much to do alone. So, all day, he was determined to be the best possible house husband and father he could, and the little smiled that played at Amy's lips when he insisted on taking the vacuum from her had been reward enough. No, that wasn't true. Thus the zing.
Sheldon sat down the duster and came to take one of the bags from her loaded arms, shutting the door behind her. He wanted to slam it, but . . .
"Where's Ada?" she said quietly. There was so rarely silence now.
"Sleeping." Instead of walking toward the kitchen he carefully set the bag down on the floor next to her.
"But her nap time should have been over, what?, five minutes ago," Amy said. "And what are you doing with the groceries? I bought ice cream as you requested."
"She looked so peaceful I decided to let her sleep." Sheldon took the other bag from her arm and set it down on the floor, also.
Amy's brow furrowed deeply. "What's going on?"
"I have something else in mind."
Before she could reply, he pushed her against the door, raising her arms above her head, holding them in place, and leaned down to kiss her. He deepened the kiss, pressing against her in a way he hoped told her that this was not just a kiss.
"Sheldon?" she asked when he finally tore himself away from her.
"I'm surprising you," he said, not letting go of her hands but using them to gently pull her with him as he walked backwards toward the hallway. "The fourth time."
He saw understanding in her eyes as their Book Night conversation came back to her. He was revisiting a memory and taking her with him. The fourth time they made love.
". . . And, so I think- " Amy dropped her keys in the bowl by the door but jumped as the Sheldon reached over her to slam the door behind them. "Sheldon? What's wrong?"
Instead of replying, he pushed her against the door, startling her. He leaned down to kiss her, and his ferocity almost frightened her. This was not the controlled kissing she knew. Surprise and confusion, though, were rapidly being replaced by pleasure, as one hand was already finding the buttons to her cardigan; then he used the hand still on her waist to pull her gently as he walked backwards toward the hallway. Wow, we're going to undress each other on the way to the bedroom. There'll be a trail of clothes, like in a movie. That's hot.
At last the cardigan fell. The walked some more, slowly. His tee shirts flew. They walked slowly. Her blouse, slow movement. Should we moving faster? Should I say something? Although we never talk during this. Her thoughts were interrupted by Sheldon fumbling with her bra clasp. All that was necessary to foil a genius? A woman's bra. Amy smiled but only to herself, not wanting Sheldon to think she was laughing at him, before reaching around to assist.
Her bra was unhooked and gone. He saw the spark of surprise in her eyes; he had been so swift, she had not even realized he was touching the clasp. Even a woman's bra couldn't foil a genius forever. Amy laughed as he threw the bra over his shoulder.
"What's so funny?" Sheldon asked, interrupting their amble down the hallway.
"I was just remembering how many months it took you to master that."
"Mmmmmm," he kissed her again, "not true. I was trying to be sexy and strip you slowly."
"You're still a horrible liar. Now get naked."
Their march to the bedroom complete, they separated and each removed their own bottom halves of clothing. Because sometimes speed and ease were even better than sexy stripping. Then more kissing, more touching, more caressing. Amy grabbed his arousal and squeezed it, surprising him. He sucked in a mouthful of air.
"God, that's good," Sheldon said into her hair before she pushed him backwards onto their bed. Because there was never any doubt where this was happening.
Um, okay, we're naked, and we're only two-thirds of the way to the bedroom. Now what? Then, almost timidly, Sheldon started to open his old bedroom door as he was still kissing her. What is he doing? Where are we going? She felt the edge of the bed hit the back of her knees. Here? Amy was surprised again. She has thought that coitus would be always be their bedroom; it seemed a more natural place, because it was theirs and because there weren't action figures watching them. But as he let go of her long enough to pull the blankets down, she realized this was, in fact, happening right here.
Amy straddled Sheldon's stomach and leaned toward him, her large, full breasts near his face. He knew what she wanted, and he cupped one breast before running his tongue along the nipple. Then the other. Amy arched away from him and moaned in pleasure. How he loved her breasts! He was certain that whenever he died, he wanted it to be between them. She pulled away from him. "That's enough."
"But they're magnificent." He thought he heard a whimper in his voice. He would have been embarrassed, but, well, it was Amy.
"Yes, they are. But you know what happens if you play with them for too long these days."
Sheldon shook his head, not wanting them to dwell on that topic, because experience had taught him it was a mood killer. Amy scooted down, rubbing him with herself, sending a jolt through his pelvis.
"Yesss," they both hissed at the same time. Amy rubbed up and then down, gradually increasing her speed, tilting closer to Sheldon, closer to his body, his lips.
"Wait, shouldn't I be on top?" he said between heavy breaths.
Amy smiled and kissed him. "Too late," she murmured into his mouth. "I want you this way. I like the way it feels."
He surrendered to her desires. He loved it when she told him what she wanted, how she wanted him.
Sheldon was on top, of course. He was slowly, with agonizingly good precision, fondling and licking her small, pert breasts, in every way he had learned so far. Amy's body arched for him over and over again. She gave her mind over to the sensations. Everything, her mind and her body, wanted him so badly. Right now. But, also, at the same time, her mind and her body loved being in this suspended state, the anticipation building ever higher with each touch from Sheldon's tongue, never wanting it to end. She wanted to touch him and make him feel that way, too. Almost unconsciously, she had reached down to touch him, to touch his arousal pressing against her thigh.
Sheldon froze, his eyes locking onto hers. Then he reached down, too, and pulled her hand away. For a minute, nothing else happened. They were still looking at each other. She wondered how long it would be before Sheldon let her touch him there. And how long it would be before she worked up the courage to ask him about it. She suspected he was fearful of what might happen, that maybe he would be too excited and lose control. She wondered if there would never be a time that they would be comfortable enough with each other, even in these most intimate moments, to explain what they wanted, how they wanted it.
But then Sheldon ran his hand down her stomach, and it quivered in excitement. Anticipation, again. A question formed in his eyes and she nodded, as they always did. She gasped and shut her eyes as his first touch sent electricity through her. As she slipped into the most exquisite type of pleasure, she wondered if they would always be asking permission.
Amy didn't ask permission, she just raised up slightly, and used her hand to guide Sheldon into her. They both gasped. That never changed. She leaned closer to him again, to alternately kiss him or just rest her forehead again his, setting a pace with her hips. Sheldon was lost in the joy that was both feeling her around him and the rubbing on his pelvic bone.
"Sheldon," she whispered to him.
Understanding every sound that came from her lips, Sheldon's hand came between them. She shifted enough for him to find what she wanted, and moaned deeply when his fingertip made contact.
"Yes, yes," she whispered again.
Coming down from her climax, still grinding her teeth, even as her body was awash in bliss, she felt on the edge of her mind, as she had the other times Sheldon had brought her there, if perhaps her cry was too loud. She tried to keep her mouth shut, thus the clamping of her teeth, but it was so difficult in the moment. But the thought floated away from her, only a slightly gray cloud mixed with the white fluffy ones she seeing.
Sheldon kissed her, gently, on the cheek before looking at her again, his eyes dark and hungry. She smiled shyly and nodded, spreading her legs further for him, helping him find his way to her. They both gasped.
And they had slow, steady, quiet, coitus. It was, she would think later, the first time they had mastered the rhythm together, each body moving in time with the other, the first time her hips rose to meet his every thrust, the first time she had anticipated his every move. It was beautiful.
"God, woman!" Sheldon yelled as Amy came down from her climax. God, I love the sight and sound of that.
"Too loud?" Amy managed to heave out between pants, resting her forehead on his shoulder.
"Never," he replied, and kissed the top of her head. "I love it. I'm just glad we remembered to shut the door."
Amy opened her eyes and grinned with abandon before gripping the comforter on either side of Sheldon's head and pressing down deeply with her hips.
And they finished making love with speed and a lot of noise, until Sheldon yelled her name. It was a rhythm they knew as well as their heartbeats, each body moving in time with the other. His hips rose to meet her every movement. It was beautiful.
They had rolled on their sides, not to used to Sheldon's smaller bed, holding each other tightly, grasping the blankets as they turned so they remained covered. Each of the four times they had made love, they were always covered.
"I love you, Amy," Sheldon whispered through half-closed eyes.
"I love you, too, Sheldon," she replied, her own eyelids heavy.
"Are you cold?" he asked.
"Not with you here. I could take a nap, just like this."
"Then let's take a nap," he replied, punctuating his words a small yawn. "We have nothing else to worry about."
And so they dozed for almost an hour, wrapped up in each other, not a care in the world.
Grateful yet again that they had chosen such a large bed, Sheldon watched Amy stretch out completely naked on top of the comforter. He moved to wrap his arms around her.
"I love you, Sheldon," she said.
"Mmmm, you too," he said into her neck, fighting the drowsy feeling. "Was it a nice surprise? Just like the fourth time?"
"Yes, it was a nice surprise. But it was nothing like the fourth time."
"You're right. But maybe we could -"
He was interrupted by the unmistakable sounds on the monitor of a baby waking up. Not crying yet, but audible pouting, as Amy called it. They both sighed. Sheldon mumbled as he rolled away from his wife, "I really wanted a nap and a shower."
"You'll get Ada and I'll unpack the groceries?" Amy asked, sitting up.
"Unless you'd rather get her," Sheldon sat up, too.
"No, go ahead. I have to make baby food. And make dinner. And chop vegetables for this week," Amy grabbed her underwear from the floor.
"And I still haven't finished dusting. Or start to clean the bathrooms. And the dryer went off in the middle of that." Sheldon looked around for his own underwear.
Amy threw them at him. "No rest for the weary."
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