One and Only

Prelude - The Scientific Method

"Look, Andy, I don't mean to impugn your sexual honor, or whatever, and I'm not doubting your skill in anyway, I just think that it is not productive to boast about something that isn't, you know, physically possible."

"Don't worry Jen, my 'sexual honor' isn't 'impugned' in the slightest, I'm just surprised that, as a physician, you are doubting my claims without any specific evidence."

I reached over and grabbed the nearly empty tub out of his hands, before he managed to finish off the very last bite of Nielson's homemade Oreo-chunk frozen custard. He wiped a bit of black cookie from the corner of his mouth, and licked the tips of his fingers in a way that was highly suggestive of the skill set to which we had recently been referring.

I took a bite of ice cream, taking my time to enjoy the balance of flavors of the Oreo and the vanilla, and letting the spoon linger ever so slightly in my mouth. Two could play at this game!

"Well. I can't have you call my dedication to the scientific method into question. I'm afraid you're going to have to put your mouth where the money is," I said.

I reached over and grabbed my phone wallet, searching frantically for a dollar bill, but to no avail. Not wanting my clever pun to be lost because I live almost entirely in a cashless economy, I pulled out my gold AmEx card and stuck it in the front of my panties.

"Oh, you are so on," he said, taking the ice cream out of my hands and tossing it casually on to the floor.

"Hey! I was eating that!" I bellowed, motioning at the now nearly-empty tub that my dog Max had already begun licking to a glossy shine.

"You're going to need to have full use of your hands to pull on my hair and your mouth is going to need to be empty to chant my name," he said, pulling the thin, white bed sheet off of my legs and positioning himself for full and complete access to my credit card.

He reached to pull my panties down and I stopped him. "To be clear, for the purposes of scientific inquiry, your hypothesis is that it is possible to make me come in under one minute, is that correct?"

"Yes, but you can't be the one who times it, you'll lose focus, and obviously, I need your head in the game. You need to play fair, Jen. If I can make this happen, you need to let me and not, you know, forestall it or whatever just because you're trying to win the argument. For science, Jen. You need to come for science."

"If I don't do the timing, who will? Alex Trebek?" I motioned to the TV where Alex was talking with a male contestant wearing a hideous yellow polka-dot bow-tie and a non-matching red and green sweater vest, the combo making him look like a "made for TV" nerd a la Ken Bone from the 2015 presidential debate.

"No, that won't work," he said kissing the inside of my thigh, "Final Jeopardy is only thirty seconds. And I mean, I'm good, but I'm not *that* good."

"Look who's doubting your skill set now," I said, ruffling my hand through his mat of curly auburn-brown hair.

"Well, I guess, I'm game for it, if you are," he said, reaching up to remove the credit card from my underwear.

"Wait!" I said, forestalling his hand yet again. "It's all icky down there. I mean, you know, there's like juices and sweat and stuff," I said, wrinkling my nose at the unpleasantness that awaited him Down Under.

He pulled back, aghast. "Have you been putting Jamba Juice in your vagina again Jen? Didn't you have a yeast infection for a week after you did that?"

I laughed, and rolled my eyes at his joke. "No, you idiot. The sex..."

"Oh gross! You've been having sex?! Recently?!? You filthy slut. With whom, may I ask???" he narrowed his eyes and stared at me accusingly.

"Um, with you, you shit, for the last, like, five days, pretty much non-stop." I hit him on the shoulder where I had recently bit him during a particularly energetic sexual encounter.