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The Stairwell Postulate	By : Keen Category: 1 through F > The Big Bang Theory Views: 10098 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Guess what….I don’t own The Big Bang Theory! Shocker, I know. But I wrote this and created the characters not of the show. And I make no money, so they have no reason to sue me. Right? Right.

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            “This building here,” Sheldon
belched. He struggled in vain to look the picture of composure, but his long
body was bowed in the seat, as if the weight of his head was too much to keep
it elevated. Yet, he still snapped to near military attention when the
detective rounded the car and pulled open his door. He looked at her
outstretched hand with disdain. “I can remove myself from the car. I am neither
an invalid nor a child.”
            “Could’ve fooled me,” Sheldon shot
her a glare as he flung his legs outside. To her surprise he did manage to
unfold without issue, only swaying slightly on the sidewalk’s centre as he took
in his surroundings. “Might not want to move your head so much, it only makes
you dizzier.”
            “Another amateur effort as
scientific reasoning,” he scoffed, “The alcohol Wolowitz
so surreptitiously snuck into the punch is what has made me dizzy. The movement
of my head only increases it’s effects.”
            “Whatever. Just look forward and
follow me through.”
            “And she ends the sentence with a
preposition,” Sheldon rolled his eyes and nearly tumbled into the doors of the
apartment complex. “Did you by any chance attend a public school? I have a
theory, based upon an unpleasant experience I had at a Halloween social hosted
by Penny…”
            “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
            “The thought never occurred to me,”
Sheldon blinked. Deirdre waved a silencing hand.
            “I wasn’t talking about your theory,
Lord knows you have tons of those, I
was talking about this!” She flung her arm in the direction of the elevator,
swathed in yellow hazard plastic.
            Sheldon followed her pointing finger
with difficulty; the change in perspective was disorienting but agreeable.
Blinking he nodded once and clutched at the stairwell handrail with a slight
chuckle, “Oh yes, it has been inoperable for some time.”
            “Then what are you paying rent for?”
            “I feel sick,” Deidre turned at the
sudden declaration and watched Sheldon feebly stretch a shaking hand toward the
ground. She stopped him from easing down to sit, linking her arm with his and
yanking him up. “I need to sit,” he whined.
            “If you sit here you’ll never get
up. You’ll puke on yourself, lay in it all night until the morning when you can
finally, on your own steam, drag yourself upstairs and peel off your stiff and
vomit caked clothing. Is that what you want?”
            “After such a colourful narrative,
only a fool would say yes,” he groaned, loping his arm around her neck. “It
would be best if I followed the advice of a woman who has clearly had more
experience with being a shameful inebriated spectacle than me.”
            “You assume I speak from personal
experience?”
            “I assume nothing. I draw my
conclusions based on facts. You are significantly shorter than myself, possibly
even lighter in mass—” Sheldon glanced at the woman tucked under his arm,
critically eyeing her waist and hips and inhaled sharply, “—possibly lighter and consumed more than
twice the amount of punch I did, yet suffer no ill effects. Such tolerance is
not built over night. So I am left to conclude you yourself have gone through
the stage I am currently at, many times. And—watch your step!” Sheldon fell against the wall and clutched hold
to the rail with both hands. He had suddenly become aware of just far above the
landing he was, “You could stumble and I may fall and break my neck!”
            Deirdre looked heavenward, “If
only,” she muttered, prying him off the rail.
            In the time it took to enter the
complex and scale the steps to the fourth floor to reach his apartment, the man
had implied that she was both stupid and fat. So the idea of him tumbling backward
down the steps and landing on his neck didn’t exactly well sympathy in her. Temptation perhaps, she thought watching
the man stumble with his footing. Her body supporting his was his only failsafe
if he slipped again, but not sympathy.

            “This one,” Sheldon hiccupped,
slapping a limp hand on the surface of the bedroom door. Already ajar, Deirdre
kicked it open and dragged the man to the bed in the centre.
            The moment they stepped inside the
flat Sheldon felt sick again. Fortunately the cop was able to drag him to his
bathroom where he spent an hour, heaving up the contents of his stomach now and
the food yet to be eaten in the future. After such an exhausting effort,
Sheldon readily forgave his policy of ‘no outsiders’ in his room so the woman
could lead him to his bed.
            “Thank you,” Sheldon fell backward,
draping the twin sized bed with his long body like a wet cloth on hanger.
            “No, thank you,” Deirdre ripped the cover from under him and flopped it over
his chest.
            Her good deed was done. She had seen
the man safely home, rubbed his back as he puked his guts out, helped him wash
his mouth out and now tucked him in. Officially, she was free and not a moment
too soon. The wheels in Sheldon’s head where turning again.
            Now laying
correctly in the bed, the man sat up on his elbows and looked at her with
question, as if seriously studying her face as she pushed the cover under him.
She moved from the left side of the bed to the right, all with his head
following her in silence and when she could no longer stand it. Deirdre froze,
staring back at him coolly with hands on her hips and shouted, “What?!”
            Sheldon blinked, a little bit
surprised by the sudden outburst, but continued to stare, his head bobbing with
his drowsiness. When she threatened to kick his ass if he did not spit it out,
he shrugged casually. “Nothing really,” he began. “I was just observing the
fact that your face, despite not having the traditional symmetry most find
pleasing, is still rather appealing.”
            “Wow.” She snorted, “Now I can add
‘you’re ugly’ to your list of implied insults.”
            “I made no such declaration;
however, you did ask me what I was thinking.”
            “Anyone ever tell you that you think
too much?”
            “It cannot be helped,” he said
studying her mouth, the source of the sound that caressed his ears. “True
genius cannot be masked.”
            “And so humble
too.”
            Dierdre
set the garbage can near his bed and bent to give a final fluff his pillows.
She froze in shock to feel Sheldon’s lips brush against hers.
            The man lifted his head from the
pillow and sunk his fingers in her hair, bringing her down for his kiss. It was
gentle at first. His mouth tentatively tasted hers, capturing her lips in his
with an innocent mint-flavoured smack …and then his tongue jut inside.
            Dierdre’s
eyes widened to feel it writhe with her own, the lip lock zooming from soft to
ravenous in an instant. Her hands grasped at the bed and then his shoulders,
pushing him away as she drew in a surprised gasp. She fell to take a knee and
Sheldon released her, letting his hand fall from her wild curly locks. He
fisted the covers at his side as he licked his lips, tasting her mouth on them
and smirked a little.
            “I am beginning to understand why
Leonard goes to such extremes to find a woman,” he mused thoughtfully. “That
was not at all unpleasant.”
            “I’m just grateful you gargled
first,” Dierdre said stiffly, trying to keep and air
of unaffected cool. Trying to forget she just kissed a drunk, genuinely
unbearable man and liked it. She was
confused. She needed air. Or at least to get away from his enigmatic wide eyed
stare. “Would you excuse me?” she muttered, pushing off the bed.
            She stood and then jerked back to
the floor, falling back to the bed side where she was pulled. Sheldon shackled
her wrist and purposely pressed his thumb into her skin. “Your parasympathetic
system is working hard to calm your body.” He stared at her hand, feeling the
thrum of her pulse. “Your muscles are tense. I can feel your temperature
climbing. Even your pupils are dilated,” he said lifting his face to hers. “Is
your mouth dry?”
            So much so she could barely swallow,
but still Deirdre managed. “I don’t know, is yours?”
she asked with a scoffing sound.
            “Of course,” he said quickly. “I am
aroused. Are you?”
            Her mouth fell agape, complete gobsmacked
by his directness and Sheldon, like he always did, took the initiative to find
out the answer to his question.
            Dierdre
yelped, her knee folding under her bottom as she fell on the bed with Sheldon’s
hand between her legs. He stroked between her nether lips, pressing a long
finger inside her, just barely sinking inside her vaginal canal. The Skenes glands were on that outer rim where his fingers
messaged. They were responsible for issuing lubricant during coitus and general
arousal and it brought a wry grin to the male’s face to feel just how wet the
woman was, how much wetter she became as he stroke her with his thumb.
            “Interesting,” he murmured. The clitoris was a sensitive bundle of
nerves and he knew grinding his finger against it would make her feel good but
he certainly wasn’t expecting the sounds that came from her throat.
            Deirdre slumped over him, her head
falling against his chest with a moan. She rested on the bed fully now as he
pet her between her thighs, warring with her brain’s demand to leave and the
instinct of her body to stay.
            Sheldon, lying on his back, still
held her arm forcing her to stretch over him, her one leg tucked at his side,
the other out at an angle touching the ground. He cupped her forcibly and that
leg left the floor, instinct winning suddenly. With a sigh, she eased on top of
him, straddling his thin body with her heavy legs, winding her hips as curled
more fingers against her clit. It had been a while since she was so touched or
wanted—and he did want this. Or at least his body, much like hers, did.
            Under her bottom she could feel his
erection nudging at her puckered entrance. She rocked against it while moving
her free hand behind her. Unbuttoning his waist band and pulling his neatly
crisp slacks down his hips, she tucked her fist behind the bulge between his
legs, eliciting a gasp. Sheldon raised his hips and she cupped him like he did
her, massaging what she found there deeply, slipping over his tight circumcised
flesh.
            Her hand closed around his aching
shaft and Sheldon pressed his head back against the pillow, his neck twisting
as he gave a pleasured groan. There was something to be said for having another
touch him so privately. When he masturbated, he knew where his hand would go
and anticipated accordingly. The feeling and sensations were known from memory,
but this wonderfully different.
            She taunted and teased him with
varying force. Her hand slid along his shaft, squeezing the length of him from
base to head. He did not know how sensitive the meatus,
or the opening of his swollen glans, could be until
she crushed it under her index finger making tight circles around the hole.
            She pressed the curious finger
deeper inside and his body spasmed. Sheldon clutched
at the bed’s edges and thrust up, crushing his cock against her heat. Through
her panties, he could feel her puffy lips spread to hold him, hugging against
his flesh like a bun does with a hotdog. He wanted to be inside that incredible
heat, to press himself flush against her curved hips
as he came into something other than his waiting hand.
            Deirdre sat on her haunches as
Sheldon moved to sit up. He pulled the shirt he wore over his head and then the
longer sleeved one too, revealing the smooth and pale flesh underneath.
Wordlessly, she followed in suit, keeping her eyes on his as she unbuttoned her
blouse. She eased the soft cotton from her shoulders and sighed, feeling warm
hands cup her breasts. How badly she needed this, even if from someone so
obviously inexperienced.
            Fisting the lacy black material of
her bra, Sheldon looked intently at each breast. Something had to be done to
them, but what? Caress them, lick them, bite them as
he had seen in a few movies? He had never done this before and one could not
rely on movies to be accurate, but never the less he found himself re-enacting
a scene he had seen on many a pornographic video.
            Sheldon pressed his head between the
valley of her breasts, licking at the soft skin,
biting on her nipples through the silk fabric. Deirdre’s moans encouraged him.
He pulled at the cups of the bra, intent on tearing it
away like Hulk Hogan did with so many shirts, but only succeeded in hurting his
fingers. Fortunately the woman had mercy on him and unclasped the thing—how he
did not know or care as her breasts spilled into the open.
            Sheldon grabbed her chest so hard
Deirdre knew she would bruise, but she didn’t care. It felt wonderful. He was
so hungry to touch and taste all of her. His fingers dug into her shoulders,
his teeth bit into her skin as he sucked on her nipple. He laved his tongue
over the swell of her breast to her neck and she could not help but whimper,
her eyes shutting tightly as her head fell against his and hands clasped the
back of his neck, hugging him closer.
            He smelled faintly of alcohol, sweet
and slightly acrid. She could taste it on his skin and his lips as they pressed
against hers again. He was a novice, he had to be the way he fumbled, but man
could he kiss. He devoured her with both hands and
mouth, ravenously touching and tasting all her bare skin and making that was
covered jealous.
            Deirdre pushed him down and stood on
her knees, pulling at her pants, slowly easing them over the curve of her ass.
Her panties were next, revealing the thin stripe of black hair that guided
Sheldon’s eyes down. She rested on her hands to kick them away and settled back
on top of him completely naked.
            She wanted him to touch the newly
exposed flesh but in looking at the soft skin between his long legs, Sheldon only
saw disparity. The woman was blissfully disrobed but he was not. Unacceptable he concluded, shimmying his pants and briefs down, kicking his free legs
to plant his feet flat on the bed.
            He gasped, holding his breath for a
pause as the woman raked her nails over his naked flesh. No one touched him. It
was a rule. One that added to his litany of idiosyncrasies but one he held
steadfastly to until this moment. The woman’s hands travelled down his chest,
smoothing his sides, unintentionally tickling his belly. He lurched and buckled
in response, snickering a second before extinguishing the tight smile. Deirdre
grasped his knees, using them as support as she moved herself over his erection
which twitched in anticipation.
            Her legs brushed against his, her
thighs sliding against his as she squatted, her bottom hovering over his lap. She
reached between them and gripped his dick, sliding the already wet tip against
her overly wet lips and Sheldon sat up on his elbows. He watched with a breathy
gasp .she pressed the tip inside her and then slowly seated herself on his
flesh, sliding down on every inch of his shaft.
            Deirdre’s hips pressed against his
and his head fell backward. Sheldon felt loosed, his senses, his mind, his body—loosed. She rolled her hips and he let himself fall
back against the bed, his body moving limply with the motion, the man himself too
stunned and tightly held to do anything else. His long hands grasped lamely at
air, the features of his face pinched in sweet agony until she slid him out of
her with a wet pop. She rose up and Sheldon gave a pained groan.
            Everything flitted all too quickly
from one extreme to the next. From the tight and warm hold of her walls to the
cool and pressureless embrace of the air and back
again. The cycle was tortuous and what was worse completely out of his control—and
he needed to be in control.
            His lip trembled. She rocked back on
him, pressing her thighs flush against his, grinding lewdly. Sheldon dared to
move his hips in counter motion just as she rose up again.           Deirdre rocked back, body arched, her
hands clamped on his narrow sides. She rode him with slow unhurried ease, nails
raking over the pale chest underneath her eliciting a shuddered shout for the
man. She felt herself beginning to crest, ascending higher and higher with each
deliberate wind of her hips, when Sheldon sat up with a grunt.
            He seized her hips, fingers
desperately digging into the skin there as he held her still. Aligning her
bottom, she realised, for his savage trust. His hips shot upward and all her
breath left in a silent scream. Sheldon forced himself inside her to the hilt,
digging the heels of his feet into the bed to give him proper leverage and
maintain their sinful connection.
            “Much better.”
He thrust again and Deirdre’s eyes screwed shut. Her lids crinkled as he thrust
again. Sheldon was fucking her. Hard. Hungry. His hand gripped her by the throat and held her
against him as he pushed inside her again and again. Roughly.
Savagely. Hurtling her toward that sensation she only
slowly approached riding his cock.
            Dierdre
fisted the sheets beside him, ripping them from the edges of the bed as she
rocked back just as intensely as he moved in counter motion. Their bodies,
slick with perspiration, writhed against one another. Their hips slapped
audibly, meeting at each pass with a wet smack.
            Sweat was something Sheldon usually
found revolting and cause for an immediate shower, but now he welcomed it,
relished the taste of her salt on his lips as he nipped her flesh. He tongued
her breasts and neck, gently teething the skin afterward. His arm snaked around
her and pulled her down to him. Through her chest, the bountiful breasts that
pressed so hotly against him, he could feel her heart beat with his, hear the
moans that were building deep inside her belly. Satisfaction was quickly
imminent for them both.
            She came first. Sheldon knew she had
before the scream left her throat. Her walls shut around him, strangling his
cock from the base up, holding him harder than he thought possible. Her body
was rigid as board in his hands, her breath kept. He moved, inadvertently
pushing deeper inside her and she cried out, folding her body around him.
            She clawed at his sides, gritting
her teeth and arching her spine as pleasure zinged through her like forked
lightening splitting the sky. It might as well have been electricity the way
she felt. Hot and disoriented, unable to hear or feel anything but his dick
pressing against her innermost barrier. She looked between her sweat slicked
thighs as Sheldon lifted his bottom from the bed, pushing himself as deep as he
could go. He looked up at her, blue-eyes wide and mouth open as he began to
tremor under her.
            Now it was his turn to come. His
cock pulsed as he gushed in hot release and Dierdre
gasped again feeling his ejaculate spread inside her and seep down her thigh.
She forgot about condoms. She forgot about everything when he touched her. She
started to slide away from him when his other arm wrapped strapped over her
back, pulling her down hard.
            Sheldon planted his feet flat on to
the bed, allowing him to part his knees behind her, giving him maximum leverage
as he thrust again, shooting more streams of white cum inside her. She could
not leave him. Not until this tawdry and carnal cycle came full circle for them
both.
            Certainly
not now, his mind growled.
            He buried his head in her shoulder
and hugged her against him as he slid in and out of her just barely, gingerly
riding the last vestiges of his orgasm. When he was done and had no energy to
hold his head up let alone her, his arms slid away and fell at his sides. He
expected to have her slide off him then, but she was still against his chest. His
senses returning, he peered down at the woman.
            Craning his head and bushing back
her messy curls, he could see she had fallen asleep. Or
passed out, the alcohol in her system choosing now to claim her consciousness.
Her eyes did not move behind her lids and her breathing was deeply even.
Neither thing changed as he moved to turn over, laying her gently on her side.
She did not make a sound of protest or comfort.
            Sheldon pulled the cover from the
floor and drew it over them both. Closing his eyes, his alcohol addled mind
made him forget who he had just lost his virginity to and he fell asleep.

A/N: Haywire_Hakaze2! Thank you for your feedback and encouragement, it
was certainly needed as you pointed out, this is the only BBT story here.
Hopefully more fans will see about rectifying that. Wink, wink, nudge nudge? R&R people, thanks.
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The Stairwell Postulate