Dinner wasn’t yet a concern, the two of us on the couch, a long day only now starting to fade.

She sat next to me, still in her gym clothes, her hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, the errant hairs (a little disheveled and twisted with dried-up sweat) that escaped telling of her cardio-heavy workout on the treadmill, bike, elliptical - her t-shirt with its sleeves rolled up over her shoulders - her nylon stretchy short shorts - the ankle socks still on her feet, as her sneakers were kicked off by the door. I do my exercising in the morning (reaching the gym around five), but I, too, showed signs of wear - my shirt half pulled out of my trousers, half unbuttoned, tie half unknotted, body half reclined on the couch.

The television flashed white, then black, then blue with gold as the theme music fired up. The familiar words sounded and I allowed myself to smile - it was my favorite game show (ever) - “This… is… Jeopardy!”

She must have noticed.

“I remember, only a little bit,” she said, turning to face me, her head leaning back and resting on the couch, “that we had this in Germany.” The announcer was introducing today’s contestants. “It was fun - I haven’t really watched it here.”

A full smile now. “It’s my favorite,” I admitted. “I try and get all the answers right.” The announcer was now introducing Alex Trebek who - really, by now - needs no introduction.

“Are you that good?” she asks, the sides of her mouth curling up a little bit.

“They’re about to start,” I motion with a nod, the categories appearing on the screen after the tonal boops and beeps of the board place the dollar amounts of the questions on the board. As always, knowing the categories are vital to the correct answers (or questions, as the silly archaic eccentricity has persisted). I paid attention, and so did she, giving a “hmm” every now and then.

The game started, and I quickly fired off the first category’s answers. Of course it’s easier at home, not in front of a studio audience, being filmed for national television, and having to fight off two other intelligent people. She sat in silence, watching the television, watching me. The next category was started, and I continued rattling off answers. A contestant hopped over to another category before the current one was exhausted - the slightest irk elicited verbally from me - but I continued to answer. I oddly remember this category - it was about song lyrics from the 80’s. The category was finished, and the game hopped back, finishing out the half-started category… quotes I believe it was. It was where I hit the first stumbling block, a question I didn’t know. My mouth partially opened, and I’m glad I didn’t say anything. And then, quickly, another. Then, the first commercial break.

I was annoyed - at the answers I didn’t know, first, then at myself. It had turned into a game, now. She turned to me as the commercials began to play.

“Aw, and you were doing so well too.”

“I know,” I said, not hiding the disappointment like a bad taste in my mouth. “I try and get as many right as I can,” I repeated.

The show had returned, and it was now a moment to pause and get to know the contestants.

“Well don’t let me stop you,” she said, our interests not at all on what humorous anecdotes the three intelligent people on stage had to say. We looked at each other, only listening to Alex Trebek’s voice for the questions and answers. The questions started and I too, again got off to a good start.

Swiss Miss folded her legs beneath her, and leaned in towards me. She sat up and invaded my space, her hands on her knees slipping to the couch cushions, then slipping further, resting against my thigh. Her body pitched forward as the category was finished out, it was something musical I think. I hadn’t missed one since the commercial break, and she now felt my breath on her face as I answered more questions, eyes bright as I got them all correct.

Her head slid to the side of mine, obscuring the television; it was okay, we weren’t watching, only listening. Her nose tucked in along my jaw and brushed my ear as I answered a question concerning bacteria, antibiotics, or both. Parted lips toyed with my skin as her hand lifted and deposited itself in my lap. Her tongue, hot and wet, slipped out and licked a line from my ear down my neck, my eyes shut and voice still stubbornly answering questions. There was a question about Texas I nearly stumbled on, saying the answer at the same time as the contestant.

She bit my neck for that one.

I gritted my teeth and heard the announcement of the first Daily Double. I knew that if I were on the show, I’d be gunning for a true Daily Double - okay maybe that’s just bravado. I was much braver now, her hand a combination of stroke and grab, tugging urgently at me. The question mattered more than the wager - I do remember I got it right and the contestant got it wrong.

She sucked hard on my collarbone, my neck crumbling and twitching.

There wasn’t much left, two more right answers and then the commercial break, the applause matching the look in her eyes as she plucked her lips off me, letting her body twist and slide down, her head resting on my lap and looking up, meeting my eyes. Her arms were contorted, her wrists bent and her fingers nimbly pulling apart my belt, tearing at the button on my pants, and pulling the zipper down.

Her hand reached in to find me more than half hard, my cock mashed up against my boxer shorts, already moist from the precum she’d coaxed out. She turned her head and opened her mouth, pulling me out and then sucking me in. Her neck twisted uncomfortably, one shoulder digging into my thigh, her waist seemingly contorted in awful fashion with her legs folded and angularly hanging off the edge of the couch.

I pulled at her shirt as best as I could, yanking the fabric pinned beneath her, revealing her sports bra clamped down on her chest. I pulled on that too, the taut cotton-elastic not willing to yield; I only pulled harder, ripping it up and towards me, pulling it so the band slowly revealed more of her chest to me, a waxing moon of white creamy skin dotted with two nipples coming into view.

It probably hurt her.

I pulled and she sucked harder, her tongue doggedly rubbing along the side of my cock, her head sideways with eye contact broken.

The commercial break was over, and the categories were being read as she lifted herself up, ripped both shirt and bra off. The desired effect was achieved, as I had no idea what the categories were - a handicap, but then again, she wouldn’t play fair anyway, I thought to myself, pulling my pants and boxers off my legs, pushing my socks off my feet, leaving my shirt and undershirt on, but that too would change more or less after the first few questions, her hands feeling their way underneath both layers of fabric as her mouth returned to my cock, her breasts pushing against my thigh and knee. The mess of shirts and tie were easily pulled over my head and flung across the room.

I kept answering (correctly), my eyes long lost the battle to watch the television (I told you, the categories headings were important) and instead settling on her head moving up and down, her hand gently scratching at my chest, the smooth skin of her back as she let her hips slide off the couch, her knees on the floor and her body soon between my legs. She would tilt her head to the side, angling her eyes upward to see where I was looking; I think she was trying to catch me watching the screen. Meeting my eyes, she only sucked harder. It was a reward.

I began to falter into the second category - classic television and shows I never heard of or knew only faintly. Her mouth left me and was replaced by her hand, sliding easily with the slickness of her spit, but a shitty consolation as I missed a question, another, got one right, and then fell silent at one I didn’t know at all.

She bit her lip and glared at me, my answers stumbling - but now correct, a fresh category. Her hand continued to move as I fired off more correct answers. She continued to tug at me, kneeling forward then up on her feet, climbing on top of me as her short-short-covered ass lay on my lap, my cock standing straight up in front of her pussy, her hand on it like a joystick, her thumb pressing down on its head.

I reached forward with my hand, she swatted it away as a category about finance (yes, I put that away easily) gave way to a category about Canada, and I answered with the wrong province. She only moved her chest towards me, her hand still guiding its way up and down on my cock, after I answered a question correctly, gently swaying herself in front of me.

The Daily Double rang as she leaned in close, whispering in my ear something that would normally make me laugh - “Fuck Canada.” It was instead an invitation to fuck her.

My hand reached to her pussy as she leaned in forward, her hand leaving my cock and both arms now wrapping around my neck. I forcefully pushed aside the nylon of her shorts and white cotton of her panties, her pussy wet and waiting, lowered onto my cock quickly. Twin gasps escaped our lips as she slid down, hips pushing into mine, her chest pressed against mine. She held herself steady and still, balancing on her knees while holding onto my neck and shoulders, breathing heavily against my skin, chewing on my ear, nails digging into my skin. I thrust upwards and inwards, mustering strength and grunting, working hard, teeth clenched and straining to hold on while sliding myself deep into her tightness.

We fell over, I don’t know who lost balance first but tumbling over onto our side and quickly - like a seized sailboat flipping back on keel - her body beneath mine and my mouth hungrily attacking what I could. Continuing to pump, continuing to move our hips in unison apart and together, the sounds of slapping skin muffled by her shorts, pressing against one side of my cock, making it all the more urgent, all the more hurried and stumbling. I held her tightly, my arms no longer holding me up, my weight on hers, my cock buried on the last rub all the way into her pussy as I came, my lower body jerking slightly as the couch obediently held our bodies.

The last category and even Final Jeopardy! disappeared from view and fell silent as she bucked violently against me, a half hushed yelp and breath interrupted. I stayed motionless, she squirmed and twisted beneath me, the fact that my cock was unable to go any deeper not stopping her motions. She was stubborn like that.

* * * * * *

Later, after we’d gone downstairs and returned from fetched a pair of salads from the cafe/deli around the block, I’d told her what the Final Jeopardy! answer was (”axis,” if anyone is interested). She glowered at me but then blinked it off her face.

“Fine, you win,” she surrendered, but like in Jeopardy! when there is a tie, both contestants get to play again.