Sound Mind and Judgment
Part I: Kiss Me Sober
Sheldon swore to himself he wouldn't be one of those people who made out with his girlfriend on the dance floor. This was a wedding, not a high school dance. Sheldon barely noticed Bernadette and Howard. All he could see was Amy wearing that bright teal dress that showed off her hour-glass figure and hugged her cleavage in a way that her normal attire refused to do. Penny insisted that the color was awful, but Sheldon liked bright colors. He liked watching Amy twirl around on the dance floor, the dress hugging her so tightly that a breasts were likely to pop out at any moment. When they waltzed together, they naturally kept a perfectly square frame, and it was all Sheldon could do to keep his eyes on her face and not notice the tantalizing rise and fall of her bosom. Her breathing was rapid and her face flushed.
"I don't know why you have to drink so much," Sheldon criticized.
Amy smiled, accustomed to his tactless comments and taking no offense. "These high heeled shoes are hurting my feet. I thought it would help."
She broke the frame, pulling his arms around her waist and sliding her hands up to his shoulders. Then she rested her body against his, pressing her bosom against him. Sheldon's chest tightened and he swallowed hard.
"It's an accepted social protocol," she explained. He wasn't sure if she was talking about the alcohol or the dancing. Then she cupped her hands behind his head and pulled him into a soft kiss—their first public kiss. Sheldon obliged her with a little tongue, but he tasted the alcohol on her breath and pulled away.
"You can only kiss me sober," he said, standing stiffly and trying to figure out how to dance without stepping on her feet. The modified rules of their relationship agreement stated specifically that all kissing was to be done when both parties were of sound mind and judgment. They were both too new at this, and they'd seen their friends make enough mistakes. They did not want to upset a facet of their relationship that was so fulfilling, exciting, and precious.
"Probably for the best," Amy said, resting her ear over his heart and closing her eyes. "I can barely breathe in this dress and you take my breath away."
"The ceremony is over. Perhaps you could change out of it," Sheldon suggested helpfully, though he would be disappointed since she looked so nice.
"I couldn't even change myself into it," Amy said. Then she tilted her head back to look at him. "Would you mind helping me out of it?"
Sheldon knew she was speaking practically. There was a subtle way she sucked in her cheeks when she meant to seduce him, and they'd practiced his recognition skills over the past month so he'd know the difference and not freak out when she said things that had obvious, crude double entendres.
Amy's hotel room was on the fifth floor. Sheldon didn't understand why in-town wedding party members had to stay at the hotel, but Leonard insisted that this was normal. Amy went to her suitcase and bent over to reach inside, but then stood suddenly straight again and pressed her hand to her stomach.
"Are you feeling ill?" Sheldon asked, rushing over, ready to escort her to the toilet if she needed to throw up.
"No. I just can't bend down with all this boning." The rise and fall of her chest had become even more labored. Amy pointed to a neatly folded pair of gray pajamas and Sheldon assumed that meant they wouldn't be returning to the festivities downstairs. Sheldon didn't care for crowds anyway, even if there were storm troopers in the mix.
Turning her back to him, Amy motioned toward the zipper that she couldn't reach. Sheldon undid it slowly, but as the fabric parted, no skin was revealed. Amy was encased in some kind of body shaper that someone with her figure probably did not need. It took two hands and a lot of pressure and grunting to undo the clasps. The thing practically burst open when the pressure released and Amy inhaled loudly, her hand to the front of the dress the only thing keeping her covered. Sheldon compulsively checked her skin for bruising, but he did not force the back of the dress any further open than it had fallen naturally. Amy slid the body-shaping brassier out from under the dress and tossed it into her suitcase.
"Oh, sweet air, I've missed you," Amy moaned, tottering forward and falling face down on the bed, the back of her dress spilling open. Stroking her hair away from her face, Sheldon made sure she could breathe, then he gingerly removed her fancy shoes, set them next to her suitcase, and massaged the bottoms of her feet. Amy grunted and moaned in pleasure, her toes wiggling whenever he hit a ticklish spot.
"Did you want to remove the nylons?" Sheldon asked.
Amy pushed up on her elbows, forgetting her dress long enough to afford Sheldon a brief flash of her chest. "I'm not of sound mind and judgment. I defer to you."
Sheldon pursed his lips in frustration. He handed her the gray pajamas. "Put these on. I won't look," he said, turning his back and sitting on the edge of the bed. Amy moved painfully slowly, but she complied. A few times, Sheldon glanced sideways into the mirror to see if she was done. The superhero always peeks.
Sheldon had breasts on the brain. He and Amy were cuddled on the couch—something they did regularly now that they both confessed to wanting it. They were watching a program about the Aurora, and Sheldon kept hearing 'areola.' Then they'd show those pink swirls of light and his brain would fill in a nipple. He kept hearing Amy laugh, and he couldn't concentrate enough to figure out why. Every time she laughed, the vibration passed through her body into his, making him shiver, and the lower side of her breast brushed his hand.
Second base is right there.
Amy had stopped opening that invitation once physical contact became a regular part of their routine. It didn't change the fact. Amy's normal clothes weren't as tempting as the bridesmaid dress, and Sheldon appreciated that she didn't make it difficult for him to keep his hands off. He didn't need to see her breasts to know they were there, and since the wedding, he'd been fantasizing about them—about what it'd be like to hold them.
A part of him knew he should ask permission before touching them. But then, if she didn't want his hands there, she'd just say so. She was forthright and pushy. They were both of sound mind. Sheldon's hand slid up just a little and he turned his palm, cupping her breast from beneath. There were so many layers of fabric that he wasn't sure she could feel it. Then she sighed, sank deeper into his embrace, and pushed his hand a little higher so that it completely enveloped her breast.
"You finally made it to second base," she said airily, arching against his palm. Encouraged, Sheldon massaged and squeezed. Then he slid his hand under the sweater, reducing the number of layers by one. Amy arched against him again, this time craning her neck and kissing his jaw. Sheldon froze for a moment. He loved being kissed around the face, and he didn't like to have any distractions while she kissed him.
Amy turned, straddling his lap, kissing him to distraction, holding one of his hands against her breast. Then she moved his hand, sliding it under her blouse. Sheldon's eyes shot open. When had she unbuttoned her shirt? There were only three buttons undone, but they were in the living room and Leonard could walk in on them any time. Sheldon couldn't bring himself to care. His fingers traced the outline of her bra, lightly teasing the skin. It amazed him how soft and smooth her breast felt. He'd never felt anything like it.
Not wanting to strip her in the living room, Sheldon looked into her eyes, watching her response as his hand explored under her shirt. Amy's pupils were dilated, her body arching involuntarily as she pressed into his hand. Smiling, Sheldon dipped his fingers into the cup of her bra, feeling the rough skin of her areola.
"Can I pinch it?" Sheldon asked, making quick circles with his fingers around the nipple.
"Not too hard," Amy replied, squirming in his lap, making his tight pants very uncomfortable.
Sheldon pinched lightly, teasing until the nipple hardened against his hand. He grinned at the accomplishment and Amy laughed delightedly, twisting to give him access to the other breast. The second nipple was half-hard before Sheldon even touched it.
"I want to see it," Sheldon said excitedly. "I propose an experiment."
Amy wrapped her arms around his neck and flopped backwards on the couch, pulling him on top and kissing him hard. Sheldon pictured himself ripping open the front of her shirt, sending the buttons flying, and ravaging her body with warm kisses, but whenever he tried to shift his weight to get a hand up her shirt, she kept pulling him down. Finally he surrendered to the kiss, hoping he hadn't pushed too hard and too fast through second base. He'd read varying accounts about the progression of physical relationships and had never quite figured out why people spent so much time pawing underneath each other's clothes.
They kissed until the program on the Aurora ended and annoying commercials forced Sheldon to find the remote and mute the TV. Then Sheldon laid next to Amy on the couch, feeling the comfort of her body snuggled to his, one hand cupping her breast, under her sweater, but on top of her blouse.
"Experiment parameters?" she asked. Part of their agreement to approach a physical relationship while of sound mind and judgment was to agree in advance how far any experiment would take them physically. Neither of them were ready for coitus, mutual masturbation, or heavy petting. Sheldon kicked himself. He knew he should have asked permission first.
"A further exploration of sexual stimulation through kissing and touching," Sheldon said. To date, their kissing was limited to face, neck, and hands. Touching extended to shoulders, back, and feet, but solely for massage purposes. Amy was good at massaging and Sheldon learned so he could reciprocate the affection.
"Everything above the waist," Sheldon answered immediately. As a man, removing his shirt did not hold the same stigma, but he figured fair was fair. "Touching and kissing are acceptable at all locations."
Amy shuddered against him, pressing his hand hard over her breast again, then she pushed his hand away, settling it around her waist instead.
"Counter proposal?" Sheldon offered, worried again. He knew that if he kissed her neck, she'd agree to anything, but they'd agreed not to manipulate each other like that during important conversations.
"Just a privacy addendum," Amy said, swallowing hard and twitching nervously. "Clothing stays on outside the bedroom."
"Agreed," Sheldon said. They'd never done anything that required the privacy of a bedroom, and it made Sheldon nervous to think of what might happen to his personal space if he started sharing it with Amy. Would he have to give her a drawer? A shelf? Would he have to hide his action figures in the closet? No. Amy understood him—understood his needs. She would respect his space and he'd respect hers. Privacy was a convention imposed by external social pressure. Even now, the fear of Leonard walking in and interrupting this intimate, private conversation gnawed at him. "Shall we adjourn to my bedroom?"
Amy shook her head. "I need time to process the terms. For as long as I've been wanting this, I'm surprisingly nervous."
Shifting her in his arms, Sheldon buttoned her shirt, closed her sweater, and righted her appearance. "We can set up a time to reevaluate the terms of the experiment tomorrow."
"No, you've already set my skin ablaze with lust for your touch," Amy deadpanned. "I don't think I could sleep tonight if we just stopped."
"We could break down the experiment," Sheldon suggested. "Today, we look and touch. Tomorrow we kiss."
Amy nodded, tension melting from her body. "Terms accepted. And you could kiss my shoulders," Amy said softly, dropping her head to one side and presenting her neck. Sheldon placed chaste, polite kisses down the side of her neck. Then he pulled the collar of her shirt aside and placed a little kiss on her shoulder too.
This wasn't the first time Sheldon had brought Amy into his bedroom, but it was the first time he'd done so with the intention of removing her clothes. He closed the door and considered locking it so Leonard wouldn't enter. Then, remembering what he'd learned about signs, he found his tie and hung it on the door knob. That would be sufficient.
Amy sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, staring thoughtfully straight ahead. Sheldon smiled, remembering her in the bridesmaid dress. Then after, when she'd been bra-less in that gray pajama top, smiling at him like a loon while he'd massaged her aching feet. Today, he wouldn't be peeping, wouldn't be taking advantage.
"Remove your shirt," he said, though it was more of a question than an instruction.
"I'd rather you remove my shirt," Amy said, smiling coyly, making her seductive face.
Toeing off his shoes, Sheldon knelt on the bed facing Amy and reached for her top. The prospect of unwrapping her was unexpectedly arousing. He slid off the sweater first, making a point of dragging the backs of his fingers down her arms. Then he folded the sweater and set it on his pillow. The blouse was next. Quickly or slowly? He didn't want this to end so soon.
Cradling Amy's face, he pulled her into a deep, penetrating kiss. They'd covered the penetrating kisses in their experiments and had both agreed that it was not their favorite method, but it seemed appropriate now. Opening his mouth, Sheldon slipped his tongue past Amy's lips, tasting her, exploring her, knowing her fully. Amy returned the kiss with equal fervor, her hands gently massaging his earlobes in a way that drove him wild. His hands fumbled the buttons of her blouse, only opening the first three. Then he yanked the hem of the shirt out of the waistband of her skirt. He felt her stomach contract as he touched her and he slid his hands around her waist, feeling her soft skin, getting lost in it.
Amy moaned, or grunted. The sound was not one of pleasure, so Sheldon stopped immediately and sat back.
"Sorry," Amy said, removing her glasses and setting them on the nightstand. She looked so sexy with her clothes disheveled, her hair askew, and her lips flush from kissing. Amy pursed her lips, taking a few calming breaths, then sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed again, her passion reset. "Continue."
His sense of sanity restored by the brief break in passion, Sheldon meticulously unbuttoned the remaining buttons of Amy's blouse and pushed it open without sliding it off her shoulders. Amy's bra was plain white and functional—not like those leopard print ones on the Victoria's Secret commercials. Truthfully, Sheldon would have been disappointed by a leopard print. There was something about the practicality of the undergarment that tickled his senses, and reminded him how much he respected Amy's choices. Leaning forward, Sheldon kissed along her collar bone, pressing his tongue against her skin, going back and forth until she was giggling with pleasure. Using his lips and nose, he nudged the blouse off her shoulders. Amy arched slightly, letting the garment fall to the bed. Then she folded it neatly and set it on the pillow next to her sweater.
He was so close to her breasts—close to touching them. He wanted to kiss them, but they'd agreed to wait. Using his lips, Sheldon pressed kisses to her shoulders, placing enough pressure that she knew to lie down. He straddled her body, continuing to kiss her face, neck, and shoulders. Then he planted a trail of kisses down her sternum, getting dangerously close to the breasts.
"Rules," Amy reminded him gently, lifting his head. Sheldon forced himself to stop. He never figured it would be so hard, but rules were rules, and Amy had stopped often enough for his sake.
Trying to distract himself from the disappointment, Sheldon initiated another penetrating kiss on the lips, tangling his fingers in her hair. He flinched when he felt Amy's hands on his waist, and the friction of his shirt coming out of his pants. Breaking the kiss, he looked down, watching, aroused, as Amy lifted his shirt.
Raising his hands over his head, he let her strip him and he smiled as her hands wandered over his body. She dragged her palms over his nipples, making small circles around the tawny flesh. Then she drew her hands over his ribs, letting her fingers press into the indentations between the bones. It tickled a little, but it felt so good. She studied his body, counting freckles, stroking chest hairs, exploring his shoulders. When she touched his belly button, he chuckled and fell beside her.
Suddenly, it didn't seem so unfair that she still had a bra on—that she had one last barrier protecting her femininity. They laid on their sides, facing each other, hands exploring skin. Then Amy removed her bra for him. Her soft, perky bosom made his throat tight, because he wanted so desperately to put her breasts in his mouth. He pinched the skin, making her nipples rise, then petted again until they fell.
"Your breasts are well-formed and aesthetically pleasing," Sheldon said, looking at her face so he could stop thinking about putting those breasts in his mouth. Amy seemed to understand his dilemma. She closed the space between them, her breasts pressed against his chest, skin to skin.
"The lower half of my body feels over-dressed," Amy answered.
Sheldon felt himself jerk-up, and he knew Amy could feel the erection she'd just invoked. Jumping quickly from the bed, Sheldon grabbed his robe and covered his body, hoping to hide the embarrassing hard-on. "I'm not ready for nudity," he said quickly.
"Neither am I," Amy confessed, ripping up the bedcover and wrapping it around herself. "But in the interest of honesty and full disclosure, I thought I should say something."
"I want to kiss your breasts," Sheldon replied, since they were being honest. It was easier to be honest when they had distance between their bodies—he could say what he wanted without feeling like he was forcing her.
"I want that too," Amy said. She shrugged off the bedspread, letting it fall just enough to expose her breasts. "I want you too."
"No," Sheldon said, though he couldn't stop himself from being drawn back to the bed by the temptation. "No, we agreed."
"I want you to," Amy repeated, cupping her breast, massaging the nipple, and using her seductive eyes on him. "Please."
"And judgment," she finished. "I'm still very nervous. But I want you to."
Sheldon kissed chastely at first, mouth closed, letting his lips feel the rough nipple and the smooth breast. Amy hummed appreciatively, her hands massaging his earlobe. Then he opened his mouth, taking in her breast, and she cried out in pleasure.
"Sheldon!" she keened, arching against his lips, dropping the bedspread so she could hold his head in place. Plaintive moans and whimpers followed as Sheldon used his tongue to play. If he opened wide enough, he could suck the whole breast into his mouth, but if he wanted to tease the nipple, he had to pull back. He massaged one breast with one hand, and used the other hand to keep her body pressed to his lips.
"Don't stop! Don't stop," she gasped when he paused for air. She wriggled her body, rubbing his face against her chest so that her breasts bounced off his cheeks. Taking a deep breath, Sheldon dove in to abuse the second breast, mixing teeth and tongue, nipping lightly against her skin. Amy's cries escalated from pleasured squeaks to frightening sobs.
"Amy?" Sheldon asked, folding her body against his, reverting to a safe, spooning position. He needed a cold shower to make this comfortable again. Politely, he shifted his hips so that they weren't pressed to Amy's. "Did I hurt you?"
"No," Amy said, though her voice was thick, and her eyes teary.
"Are you sad?" he asked, going through the list of reasons, besides physical pain, that might have brought that look to her eyes. Grabbing a moist towelette from his nightstand, he tore open the package and patted Amy's breasts clean with the damp cloth, meticulously checking the skin for damage.
"I'm frightened," she confessed, her chest heaving. "I don't want—I don't think—I can't stop."
Sheldon pulled the bedspread around her, covering her nakedness and keeping her safe. "Then I'll stop. We can reevaluate the parameters of our experiment and discuss our findings tomorrow."
Amy burst into tears like she hadn't done since the memorial service and Sheldon worried they'd gone too far. They'd established an agreement and changed the terms mid-experiment. This was why they had rules. Holding his girlfriend, he stroked her hair soothingly, whispering heartfelt apologies in her ear, and reminding her that they were perfectly safe.
"I never used to succumb to lust," she moaned. "What's happened to me? Who am I?"
Sheldon had the same questions about himself, and no answers. So he held her and kept quiet.