Cameos in The Big Bang Theory Ch.3 - S1E3 [TBBT] (Patreon)

Cameos in The Big Bang Theory

Season 1 - Episode 3

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Leonard trudged up the stairs alone, shoulders slumped, the plastic takeout bag swinging limply from one hand like it weighed a hundred pounds. Each step felt heavier than the last, the plastic handles digging into his palm. The day had been a long string of small failures that added up to one big, exhausting mess that left him drained and defeated.

In the lab, the latest iteration of his neutrino detector experiment had refused to cooperate again. The readings kept fluctuating for no apparent reason, jumping erratically no matter what he tried. He had spent hours recalibrating the sensors — three separate times — while the clock on the wall ticked closer and closer to quitting time. Every adjustment he made seemed to make it worse. The numbers would stabilize for a minute or two, then drift again, mocking him with their inconsistency. He had double-checked every connection, cleaned the lenses, even restarted the entire system twice, but nothing worked.

Sheldon had hovered the entire afternoon like a judgmental shadow, offering endless corrections in that precise, emotionless tone that somehow made Leonard feel both stupid and invisible at the same time.

“Leonard, the calibration vector is off by 0.3 degrees. Again. At this rate the data will be unusable by tomorrow.”

Leonard had bitten his tongue so hard it almost bled. He wanted to snap back, to tell Sheldon to do it himself if he was so perfect, but he just nodded tightly, made the change, and watched the numbers drift anyway. The frustration built with every passing minute. His back ached from hunching over the equipment for hours, his shoulders tight and sore. His eyes burned from staring at the glowing screens, the constant flicker of data points making his head throb. By the time he finally packed up his notes and shut down the station, the familiar knot of frustration sat heavy in his chest like a lead weight.

The nagging feeling that he was stuck in the same loop had grown stronger all day — the same lab, the same problems, the same quiet certainty that nothing was ever going to change. He would keep showing up, keep trying, keep getting corrected by Sheldon, and keep ending the day with nothing to show for it but sore muscles and a growing sense of pointlessness. The walk to the parking lot had felt endless, the takeout bag from the Chinese place near campus already cold and greasy in his hand. He had ordered the same thing he always did when he was tired — General Tso’s chicken and fried rice — because even choosing dinner felt like too much effort tonight.

Now, climbing the stairs to the fourth floor, the bag bumped against his leg with every step, the smell of cold food making his stomach turn slightly. His mind kept replaying the day on a loop: the failed calibrations, Sheldon’s voice, the way the data refused to behave, the growing certainty that he was wasting his time in a field where he would always be second-best. He thought about how Penny was probably having a much better day — laughing with customers at the Cheesecake Factory, maybe practicing lines for an audition, living her life without the constant pressure of equations and failed experiments.

He rounded the corner onto the fourth floor, keys already fished out of his pocket with his free hand, mind half on reheating the food and maybe watching something mindless on TV to shut his brain off for a while.

And then he stopped dead.

There they were.

Wilt Berhanu—6'2 of lean, dark muscle—had Penny wrapped around him like she weighed nothing. He carried her up the last few stairs, her legs locked around his waist, arms around his neck. They were kissing hard—messy, hungry, tongues clearly involved. Wilt’s big hands were planted firmly on her ass, fingers digging into the soft, round cheeks that spilled out the bottom of her tiny denim shorts. Every step made her body bounce slightly against him, her full tits pressed tight to his chest, straining against the thin tank top she wore. No bra. The way they jiggled with each movement was impossible to miss.

Leonard’s stomach dropped. His eyes traced the curve of Penny’s ass—plump, heart-shaped, the shorts riding high enough that the bottom swell was fully visible, pale skin contrasting with Wilt’s dark hands gripping and kneading it. Her legs looked long and smooth wrapped around his waist, thighs flexing as she held on. And between them—pressed right against the front of Wilt’s jeans—was a very obvious, very large bulge. Thick, heavy, straining the fabric.

Penny broke the kiss just long enough to laugh breathlessly against Wilt’s mouth, her voice husky and happy. “You’re gonna drop me if you keep squeezing like that.”

“Not a chance,” Wilt murmured back, voice low and rough. He gave her ass another firm squeeze, making the soft flesh spill between his fingers and ripple. Penny let out a little moan and kissed him again, deeper this time.

They reached the landing. Wilt’s gaze flicked sideways — straight at Leonard standing frozen a few feet away. Their eyes met for half a second. Wilt didn’t look surprised or embarrassed. If anything, the corner of his mouth twitched upward in a small, knowing smirk, like he’d expected this exact moment. He gave a tiny nod — almost polite — before turning his attention back to Penny and carrying her the last few steps to her door.

Leonard stood frozen, heart hammering, face burning. The sound of Penny’s door opening and closing echoed in the hallway.

He didn’t move for almost a full minute.

Then the noises started.

First the low thud of bodies against the wall. Then Penny’s moan—clear, needy, loud enough to carry through the thin door. “Fuck, yes—”

Leonard’s cock twitched in his pants. He hated himself for it, but he couldn’t look away from her door. Another moan—higher this time—followed by the unmistakable rhythmic creak of furniture and the wet slap of skin on skin.

He backed up a step, then another, until he was pressed against his own door. His hand shook as he fumbled with the key. Inside 4A, the living room was empty—Sheldon must still be at the university. Good. Leonard didn’t want witnesses.

He dropped onto the couch, breathing hard, already palming himself through his jeans. The sounds from across the hall got louder.

Inside Penny’s apartment, Wilt had her pinned against the wall the second the door shut behind them. The lock clicked, and his mouth was on hers — deep, hungry, tongue sliding against hers with no hesitation. His big hands roamed immediately, sliding down her back and grabbing two full handfuls of her ass, squeezing the soft, round cheeks hard enough to make her gasp into the kiss. He pulled her tighter against him, grinding the thick, heavy bulge in his jeans right between her legs so she could feel exactly how hard he already was.

“Those nerds are probably listening right now,” Wilt muttered against her neck, biting down lightly on the sensitive skin there, his breath hot. “Especially the short one who was staring in the hallway like he wanted to be me. Bet he’s already got his ear pressed to the door.”

Penny laughed breathlessly, the sound turning into a moan as she rolled her hips, grinding her pussy against that thick ridge in his jeans. “Let them listen. Fuck me harder so they really hear it. Make the whole building know how good you give it to me.”

Wilt grinned against her throat, dark eyes flashing with heat. He didn’t waste another second. In one smooth motion he scooped her up, her legs wrapping around his waist automatically as he carried her straight to the bedroom. The door to the room was already half-open; he kicked it the rest of the way and dropped her onto the bed.

He stripped her fast and efficient — tank top yanked up and over her head in one pull, her full tits bouncing free, nipples already tight and hard from the cool air and the anticipation. Her shorts and panties were dragged down her legs in one rough motion, tossed somewhere on the floor. Penny spread her thighs wide without being asked, knees falling open, her pussy already wet and glistening, lips puffy and shiny.

Wilt shoved his jeans and boxers down just enough, his thick, veined cock springing out — heavy, dark, already leaking at the tip. He climbed between her spread legs, lined himself up, and pushed in slow, letting her feel every inch as he stretched her open with that familiar, delicious burn. Penny moaned loud and long, her back arching off the mattress as he bottomed out, balls pressed tight against her ass.

“God, you’re so big,” she gasped, nails digging into his shoulders, leaving little crescent marks. “Fills me up so fucking good every time.”

Wilt started thrusting — deep, steady strokes at first that made the bed creak under them. Skin slapped skin in a slow, building rhythm. Her tits bounced with every pump, swaying heavily, the soft flesh jiggling. He grabbed them with both hands, mauling the plush mounds roughly, thumbs flicking over her hard nipples before he leaned down and sucked one into his mouth, tongue swirling and teeth grazing just enough to make her whimper.

“These tits feel so good in my hands,” he growled around her nipple, voice low and rough. “Bounce so pretty when I fuck you. Love watching them move while I’m buried deep in this tight pussy.”

Penny wrapped her legs around his waist, heels digging into his ass, pulling him even deeper. “Harder — fuck me harder. Let the whole floor hear it. Let those nerds across the hall know exactly how loud you make me scream.”

He picked up speed — hips snapping harder, balls slapping her ass with wet, rhythmic smacks. The wet squelching sounds of her soaked pussy taking every thick inch mixed with her increasingly loud moans. The headboard started tapping the wall in steady thumps.

Penny came first — sudden and hard. Her pussy clamped down around him like a vice, walls pulsing and fluttering as her back bowed off the bed. She cried out, loud and broken, thighs shaking around his hips. Wilt kept going, fucking her straight through it, drawing the orgasm out until she was whimpering and twitching, oversensitive but still greedy for more.

He didn’t pull out. Instead he shifted his angle slightly, grinding deep on every thrust, making sure she felt him pressing against that spot inside her that made her see stars.

“Still want it harder?” he rasped, one hand sliding down to rub her clit in fast circles while he kept pounding into her. “Tell me. Beg for this cock.”

Penny’s head fell back, another moan ripping from her throat. “Yes — fuck — don’t stop — I’m gonna cum again —”

Her second orgasm hit even harder, her pussy gushing around him, body convulsing as she cried out his name. Wilt groaned low, the tight squeeze pushing him closer to the edge, but he held back, slowing just enough to keep her riding the aftershocks while he watched her tits heave with every panting breath.

He finally eased out, both of them slick and breathing hard. Penny’s legs were still trembling. Wilt flipped her over without a word, his hands rough but sure as he gripped her hips and yanked her ass high in the air. Penny’s face pressed down into the mattress, cheek turned to the side, mouth open as she panted. Her back arched deep, ass up and presented, the pink handprints from earlier still glowing on her skin. He took a second to admire it — the way her cheeks spread slightly, her pussy glistening and puffy, dripping down her thighs from how wet she already was.

He slapped her ass hard — once, the loud crack ringing out, her soft flesh rippling and jiggling from the impact. Then again, harder on the other cheek, watching the skin turn a deeper pink almost instantly. Penny moaned into the sheets, pushing her ass back toward him, silently begging.

Then he slammed back in from behind, gripping her hips tight, fingers digging into her skin as he buried every thick inch in one brutal thrust. The angle was brutal — deeper than before, the head of his cock dragging right over that spot inside her with every stroke. Penny’s moans turned into broken, desperate cries that she couldn’t hold back.

“Yes — right there — fuck my pussy —”

Wilt reached around her body and rubbed her clit fast and firm with two fingers while he pounded into her, hips snapping hard. The wet slap-slap-slap of his hips meeting her ass filled the room, loud and rhythmic, her cheeks rippling and bouncing with every thrust. The bed creaked under them, the headboard starting to tap the wall. Her pussy made filthy squelching sounds every time he drove in deep, her wetness coating his balls and dripping down her thighs.

“Take that dick,” he growled, voice low and filthy. “Look at this ass bouncing for me. So fucking greedy. Those nerds across the hall are probably jerking off right now listening to how loud you’re moaning for my cock.”

Penny cried out louder, pushing back to meet every slam. “Yes — fuck — let them hear — I don’t care — just don’t stop —”

She came again — harder this time — her whole body locking up as her pussy clamped down around him in tight, pulsing waves. A small gush of wetness squirted out around his cock, soaking his balls and the sheets beneath them. Her thighs shook violently, a broken scream muffled into the mattress.

“Fuck, you’re making a mess,” he groaned, still thrusting through her orgasm, the wet sounds even louder and sloppier now. “Squirting all over my dick like a good little slut. Keep cumming for me.”

He didn’t slow down. He kept pounding her through it, hips snapping faster, balls slapping her clit with every deep stroke until she was whimpering and twitching, oversensitive but still taking every inch.

Then he pulled out, cock glistening with her cream, thick strings of her wetness stretching between them before breaking. He sat on the edge of the bed, breathing hard, his shaft still rock-hard and twitching. He grabbed her by the hips and pulled her on top, guiding her to straddle him. Penny sank down onto his cock with a long, shaky moan, her soaked pussy swallowing every thick inch slowly until she was seated fully on his lap, her ass flush against his thighs, tits right in his face.

She started riding — slow at first, grinding her hips in deep, filthy circles, feeling the thick head of his cock press against every wall inside her, stretching her wide. The fullness made her whimper. Then she bounced harder, lifting her ass and slamming it back down, her cheeks slapping against his thighs with wet, loud smacks. Her tits swayed and bounced wildly in front of his face, heavy and soft, the soft flesh jiggling with every movement, nipples stiff and dark, begging to be touched.

Wilt grabbed them with both hands, squeezing the plush flesh roughly, his fingers sinking into the soft mounds. He pinched and rolled her nipples between his fingers, tugging them hard while she rode him, making her gasp and moan louder.

“Ride that dick,” he growled, looking up at her flushed, desperate face, his voice low and filthy. “Show me how much you love it. Bounce on it like you can’t get enough of this big black cock stretching your tight little pussy. Look at you — tits bouncing, ass slapping down, creaming all over me.”

Penny leaned forward, hands braced on his chest, bouncing faster and harder, her tits jiggling right above his mouth with every drop. “It’s so deep — filling me up so fucking full — gonna cum again — your big black cock is ruining me —”

She did — shuddering hard on top of him, pussy pulsing and clenching around his cock in rhythmic waves as she moaned his name, loud and broken. Her thighs trembled violently, her ass rippling with every bounce. Fresh wetness gushed out around his shaft, soaking his balls and his lap. Wilt gripped her ass with both hands, spreading her cheeks wide, and thrust up to meet her, driving himself even deeper with short, powerful snaps of his hips, his cock slamming into her g-spot over and over.

“Fuck yes — cum on that big black cock,” he groaned, slapping her ass hard while she shook on top of him. “Milk it. Let those nerds hear how loud you scream when you cum for me.”

She kept riding through the orgasm, hips stuttering but still moving, her tits bouncing wildly as she chased every last pulse of pleasure. Wilt watched her face, watched her tits jiggle, watched her ass ripple every time she slammed down. He thrust up harder, meeting her, the wet slap-slap-slap growing louder and filthier.

Wilt flipped her onto her back again in one smooth motion, pushing her knees up to her chest, folding her in half. Her legs rested over his shoulders, ass tilted up, pussy completely exposed and dripping, swollen and red from how hard he’d been fucking her. He drove in deep — new angle, hitting everything at once, the head of his cock grinding right against her g-spot with every thrust. Penny’s tits bounced wildly with every hard slam, swaying and jiggling heavily, the soft flesh moving in hypnotic waves, nipples dark and stiff.

She came a fourth time — screaming, body shaking violently, nails raking down his back as her pussy spasmed hard around him, milking his cock in tight, fluttering pulses. Fresh wetness gushed out around him, soaking his balls and the sheets again, the wet sounds obscene and loud.

“Fuck — I’m cumming again — your big black cock is too deep —” she cried out, voice raw.

Wilt followed right after — groaning low and deep as he buried himself as far as he could go and came hard, thick spurts flooding her pussy in hot, pulsing ropes. He kept thrusting through it, grinding deep, making sure every drop stayed inside her. He stayed buried inside her for a long moment, both of them panting, sweat slick between their bodies, the room thick with the heavy smell of sex and cum — musky, salty, sweet from her multiple orgasms.

Their bodies stayed locked together, chests heaving, skin sticky. Penny’s legs were still trembling over his shoulders, her pussy occasionally fluttering around his softening cock as aftershocks rolled through her. Wilt leaned down and kissed her lazily, tongues sliding slow and tired, tasting sweat and each other.

“Still want more?” he murmured against her lips, voice hoarse.

Penny laughed breathlessly, her hands sliding down his back. “Give me a minute… then yes.”

Outside in the hallway, Leonard had his ear pressed to Penny’s door. Every moan, every slap, every wet sound had gone straight to his cock. He was rock hard, leaking in his pants, the front of his jeans already damp. He couldn’t take it anymore.

He stumbled into his own apartment, slammed the door, and dropped onto the couch. Pants shoved down just enough, he wrapped his hand around his dick and started stroking fast—eyes closed, imagining it. Imagining Wilt’s big black cock stretching Penny open, rearranging her guts, making her scream the way Leonard never could.

The sounds from across the hall were still audible—muffled moans, the rhythmic creak of the bed. Leonard jerked himself faster, shame and arousal mixing until he came hard—spurts landing on his stomach, chest heaving.

He sat there afterward, cum cooling on his skin, feeling pathetic.

“Fuck,” he whispered to the empty room. “I’m such a loser.”

The next morning Leonard sat at the kitchen table, staring blankly at his cereal while Sheldon lectured about the proper ratio of milk to flakes for optimal texture.

“You’re not listening,” Sheldon observed, spoon paused halfway to his mouth, milk dripping slowly back into the bowl.

Leonard sighed, pushing his spoon around the soggy flakes without lifting it. “Sorry. Just… thinking.”

“About the coital noises emanating from apartment 4B until approximately 4:12 a.m.?” Sheldon asked without missing a beat, finally taking the bite. “I calculated the decibel levels. Quite vigorous. Peak volume reached 78 decibels during the third apparent orgasm. The downstairs neighbor appears to possess impressive stamina and lung capacity. Also, the rhythmic frequency suggested a consistent tempo of approximately 2.8 thrusts per second for extended periods. Remarkable cardiovascular endurance.”

Leonard’s face burned bright red. He pushed his bowl away so hard the milk sloshed over the edge. “Can we not talk about it? Please? Just once?”

Howard and Raj arrived ten minutes later for their usual Saturday brunch planning session. Howard burst through the door first, carrying a greasy paper bag of bagels from the place down the street, the smell of fresh everything seasoning filling the apartment instantly. He took one look at Leonard’s slumped posture, the way his shoulders curled in like he was trying to disappear into the couch, and the defeated, hollow expression on his face, and grinned like Christmas had come early.

“Rough night, buddy?” Howard said, dropping the bag on the table with a loud thud. “Heard some… activity across the hall last night. Sounded like Penny was getting the full tour of Pasadena. Multiple stops. Very enthusiastic sightseeing. I’m talking guided tour with audio commentary and everything.”

Raj just nodded sympathetically from behind him, cheeks already turning a deep shade of pink. He set down a tray of coffees carefully, avoiding eye contact, and gave Leonard a small, silent thumbs-up of quiet solidarity. His eyes were full of understanding but no words — the usual selective mutism kicking in hard around any conversation involving women or sex.

Leonard groaned loudly and buried his face in his hands, elbows planted on the table. “I saw them. Wilt carrying her up the stairs. Hands all over her ass. Huge… bulge in his pants. Then I stood outside her door like an idiot and listened to the whole thing. Every moan, every slap, every creak of the bed. I couldn’t stop myself. I just stood there like a creep with my ear pressed to the wood.”

Howard whistled low, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from him. “Damn. That’s rough. Walking in on that visual and then getting the live audio version? You need to get laid, my friend. Get your mind off Penny and that walking billboard for BBC. Seriously, the guy is built like he was designed in a lab specifically to ruin good girls for everyone else.”

Sheldon tilted his head, spoon still in hand, milk dripping slowly back into his bowl. “BBC? British Broadcasting Corporation? I fail to see the relevance to Leonard’s current emotional distress. Their programming is generally quite dry and focused on educational content. Though I do appreciate their documentaries on theoretical physics.”

Howard laughed so hard he nearly choked on his bagel, pounding the table once. “Not that BBC, Sheldon. Big Black Cock. The downstairs neighbor is packing serious heat. Leonard got a front-row view of the merchandise. I’m talking premium cable, not basic.”

Leonard rubbed his temples hard, like he could physically squeeze the memory out of his skull. “Guys, I’m serious. I jerked off to the sounds of another guy fucking the girl I like. Stood there in the hallway with my ear pressed to the door like some pathetic loser, then came home and finished while imagining it. I feel pathetic. Like, rock-bottom pathetic. The kind of pathetic that deserves its own Wikipedia page.”

Raj gave him another thumbs-up, this one slower and more earnest, his cheeks still flushed but his eyes kind and supportive in that silent way only Raj could manage.

Howard leaned forward, elbows on the table, grinning like he’d just solved world hunger. “Look, you work with smart, attractive women every day. Ask one out. Leslie Winkle, for example. She’s hot, she’s brilliant, and she doesn’t put up with anyone’s crap — including yours. Perfect rebound material. She’ll either rock your world or tell you exactly why you suck in bed. Either way, it’s character building. And hey, at least she won’t be getting railed by the downstairs BBC while you’re listening through the wall.”

Leonard perked up slightly, sitting a little straighter in his chair despite himself. “Leslie? She’s… intense. But yeah. Maybe. She’s got that whole ‘I could destroy you with one sentence’ thing going on. Might be exactly what I need right now. At least she won’t make me feel like I’m competing with a guy who looks like he bench-presses cars for fun.”

Sheldon nodded approvingly, adjusting his glasses with one finger. “Dr. Winkle is an acceptable choice. Her publication record is impressive, and she has never once borrowed my whiteboard markers without returning them in pristine condition. She also maintains a very organized lab bench. High compatibility potential on the intellectual axis. Though I must note that her sarcasm levels occasionally border on statistically significant rudeness.”

Howard snorted, taking another big bite of bagel. “Intellectual axis? Buddy, Leonard needs to get his physical axis taken care of first. Go ask her out. Worst case, she shoots you down and you’re back to square one. Best case, you get some action and stop moping about Penny getting railed by the downstairs stud. I mean, come on — the guy is carrying her up the stairs like she’s a backpack. That’s some next-level BBC energy right there.”

Leonard stared at his cold cereal for a long moment, the image of Wilt carrying Penny up the stairs flashing in his mind again — those big hands gripping her ass, the obvious, heavy bulge in his jeans, the way she had laughed breathlessly against Wilt’s mouth like she couldn’t get enough. Then the sounds from last night replayed in his head — Penny’s loud, breathy moans, the wet slapping of skin, Wilt’s deep grunts of effort as he fucked her.

He pushed the bowl even farther away, the milk sloshing over the rim.

“Yeah,” he said finally, voice quieter but with a tiny hint of determination. “Maybe I’ll talk to Leslie today. Can’t get much worse, right?”

Raj gave him another silent nod of encouragement, eyes warm, while Howard clapped him on the shoulder a little too hard, nearly knocking him sideways.

“That’s the spirit,” Howard said, still grinning. “Go get some. And if it goes well, tell us the details. We live vicariously through you now. Because let’s be honest — none of us are carrying someone up the stairs and have a BBC to work with.”

Leonard managed a weak laugh, but the knot in his stomach didn’t loosen. The image of Wilt’s hands on Penny’s ass, the way her tits had bounced against his chest, the bulge that had been impossible to ignore — it all lingered like a bad aftertaste. He stood up, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door before he could talk himself out of it.

“Wish me luck,” he muttered.

Sheldon didn’t look up from his laptop. “Luck is not a factor in probability. But statistically, your chances improve if you avoid liquids near your person and refrain from mentioning string theory as an alibi.”

Howard laughed again as the door closed behind Leonard.

“Poor guy. He’s doomed. But at least he’s trying. Meanwhile, Penny’s getting the full Pasadena tour from Mr. Big Black Cock downstairs.”

Raj just shook his head, cheeks still pink, and took a long sip of his coffee.

Leonard groaned again, but there was the tiniest flicker of determination in his chest. Maybe asking Leslie out would help. Maybe it would get his mind off Penny and the very loud, very real evidence that she was having a lot more fun across the hall than he was. The sounds from last night still echoed in his head — Penny’s broken moans, the wet slap of skin, Wilt’s low grunts as he fucked her senseless. Every time the memory surfaced, Leonard felt a sharp twist of jealousy mixed with that unwanted throb in his pants. He hated it. He hated how pathetic it made him feel.

Or maybe it would just be another disaster. Another awkward conversation that ended with him spilling something or saying the wrong thing. But sitting here feeling sorry for himself wasn’t fixing anything either.

Either way, he couldn’t keep standing outside her door listening like some sad pervert. He couldn’t keep jerking off to the sounds of another man railing the girl he liked. That had to stop.

He stood up, grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, and headed for the door before he could talk himself out of it.

“Wish me luck,” he muttered, not really expecting an answer.

Sheldon didn’t look up from his laptop. “Luck is not a factor in probability. But statistically, your chances improve if you avoid liquids near your person and refrain from using string theory as an alibi again. It is factually inaccurate and easily disproven.”

Howard laughed as the door closed behind Leonard.

“Poor guy. He’s doomed.”

That afternoon Leonard found Leslie in the university lab, bent over a spectrometer, adjusting dials with precise, focused movements. She was wearing a white lab coat that hugged her figure more than most scientists’ coats did — the fabric pulling slightly across her chest and waist. Underneath it she had on a fitted black blouse and a tight pencil skirt that showed off her body in a way that made Leonard’s mouth go dry. Her slim waist flared into wide, rounded hips, and her firm, heart-shaped ass strained the fabric of the skirt when she leaned forward, the material stretching taut over the full curves. Her dark hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, a few loose strands framing her face. When she straightened up, the movement made her full, perky tits press noticeably against the buttons of her blouse, the top two undone just enough to show a hint of cleavage — soft, pale skin contrasting with the crisp white of the lab coat.

“Hey, Leslie,” Leonard said, trying to sound casual as he stepped into the lab, though his voice came out a little higher than normal. His palms were already sweaty. “Got a minute?”

She looked up, one eyebrow arched in that sharp, no-nonsense way of hers. “Hofstadter. What do you want?”

“I was wondering… would you like to grab dinner sometime? Or coffee? Whatever works.”

Leslie studied him for a long moment, her gaze steady and evaluating, then set her clipboard down on the bench with a soft click. She crossed her arms under her breasts, pushing them up slightly so the cleavage became a little more pronounced. The movement was casual, but Leonard’s eyes flicked down for half a second before he forced them back to her face.

“Straight to dinner?” she said, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “That’s bold. Most guys start with small talk about quantum entanglement or how impressive my latest paper was. You’re skipping straight to the main course.”

Leonard shrugged, nerves making his voice climb just a little. “I figured we could skip the usual dating script. You’re not really the flowers-and-small-talk type. You’re more… direct.”

She smirked wider, leaning one hip against the lab bench. The pencil skirt tightened across her hips and ass with the movement. “Fair point. Tell you what — let’s fast-forward the whole ridiculous ritual. Kiss me. Right now. Let’s see if there’s any chemistry worth pursuing.”

Leonard blinked, caught completely off guard. “Here? In the lab?”

“Why not?” Leslie said, stepping closer, her eyes locked on his. “Saves time. If it’s bad, we both move on. If it’s good, maybe we bother with dinner later. No wasted evenings pretending to care about each other’s hobbies.”

He stepped closer, heart pounding so hard he was sure she could hear it. Leslie tilted her head up, eyes steady on his. Their lips met — soft at first, testing. Then a little deeper. Leonard put one hand lightly on her waist. It wasn’t bad. Not fireworks exploding, but… nice. Solid. Technically proficient. Her mouth was warm, her body pressed close enough that he could feel the soft weight of her tits against his chest through the lab coat.

Leslie pulled back after a few seconds, thoughtful, licking her lower lip once. “Hmm. Good technique. Adequate pressure. No excessive saliva. But… unexciting. Like kissing a well-written lab report. Competent, but no spark.”

Leonard winced, the rejection landing like a slap. “Ouch.”

She patted his shoulder, almost kindly, though her eyes were still sharp. “Don’t take it personally. You’re sweet, Leonard. But I need more spark. We’re done here.”

She turned back to her spectrometer like the entire conversation had never happened, ponytail swinging as she adjusted a dial.

Leonard stood there for a moment, ego thoroughly bruised, then nodded to himself. “Right. Okay. Thanks anyway.”

Time passed slowly that afternoon. Leonard wandered the campus corridors for a while, replaying the kiss in his head and finding it more and more lacking with every loop. By the time evening rolled around he was still a bit depressed, the sting of rejection sitting heavy in his chest. He told himself the whole “skip the dating, go straight to kissing” experiment had been stupid anyway. Maybe the traditional route would work better — dinner, real conversation, actually getting to know each other. Yeah. That could still work. He could swing by Leslie’s office, apologize for the awkwardness earlier, and ask her properly this time. Dinner. Just dinner. No pressure, no lab-coat experiments.

He walked back toward the physics building as the sun was setting, the hallways quieter now with most people gone for the day. When he reached Leslie’s office door he stopped, took a deep breath, and raised his hand to knock.

That was when he heard the noises.

Loud thumping sounds were coming from inside — rhythmic, heavy, unmistakable. The distinct, wet slap of skin on skin echoed through the thin door, mixed with muffled female moans that were clearly Leslie’s and a deep, grunting male voice. The desk inside must have been banging against the wall with every powerful thrust.

Leonard froze, hand still raised. The moans grew louder, breathier — Leslie gasping out broken little cries that sent an unwanted jolt straight to his groin. He could hear the wet squelch of bodies meeting, the sharp crack of a hand slapping flesh, and Leslie’s voice cracking on a particularly loud moan.

“Fuck — yes — right there — harder —”

Another heavy slap of skin, followed by a low, satisfied male groan. The rhythm picked up — faster, rougher — the desk creaking loudly now. Leslie’s tits must have been bouncing wildly with the force of it; Leonard’s mind supplied the image against his will — her full, perky breasts swaying and jiggling, nipples hard, her round ass rippling every time the man slammed into her from behind.

He stood there, heart pounding, cock twitching traitorously in his pants as the sounds continued. The wet slapping grew louder, more obscene. Leslie came with a sharp, broken cry that carried clearly through the door, her voice raw and desperate. The man kept going, pounding through her orgasm until his own groan rumbled out, deep and guttural, as he finished inside her.

He stood there for another ten seconds, cock twitching traitorously in his pants despite everything, then finally backed away. “Never mind,” he muttered under his breath. He backed away from the door, steps quiet and hurried, shame and arousal twisting together in his stomach.

He turned and walked quickly down the empty hallway, the muffled sounds of Leslie catching her breath still faintly audible behind him.

Inside the office, Leslie Winkle was bent over her own desk, lab coat and blouse shoved up around her waist, tight pencil skirt hiked high over her hips. Her ass — round, firm, and already turning a deep shade of pink — was absolutely bruised with fresh red handprints. Graduate student Lev Vadimir, tall and broad-shouldered with a thick Russian accent, was pounding into her from behind, hips snapping hard and fast. His hands gripped her wide hips, fingers digging into soft flesh as he drove deep.

Leslie’s full tits hung heavy beneath her, swaying and bouncing wildly with every brutal thrust, the soft flesh slapping against the cold wooden surface of the desk. Her hard nipples dragged across the smooth top with each powerful snap of Lev’s hips, sending little sparks of pleasure through her. Dark strands of hair had come loose from her ponytail and stuck to her sweaty neck and flushed cheeks as she moaned loudly, pushing her round, bruised ass back to meet every deep stroke.

“Take it, Dr. Winkle,” Lev growled, his voice thick with lust as he brought his hand down hard on her ass again. The loud crack echoed in the small office, her plump cheek rippling and jiggling from the impact, the red handprint deepening. “You like getting fucked over your own desk like this, don’t you? Bent over like a dirty little slut while your students are right down the hall?”

Leslie gasped sharply, her voice breaking into a needy whine. “Yes — fuck — don’t stop — harder, Lev — pound my pussy!”

Lev reached around her body and grabbed one of her swinging tits roughly, his big hand mauling the soft, heavy flesh. He squeezed hard, fingers digging in, then pinched her stiff nipple between thumb and forefinger, twisting it until she cried out. The wet slap-slap-slap of his hips slamming into her bruised ass filled the office, mixed with the obscene, squelching sounds of her soaked pussy greedily taking every thick inch of his cock.

“Such a tight cunt,” he grunted, thrusting even deeper, his balls slapping loudly against her clit with every stroke. “You’re dripping all over my dick, Dr. Winkle. Bet you’ve been wet since that pathetic kiss with Hofstadter earlier. Needed a real man to stretch this greedy hole, huh?”

Leslie moaned louder, her walls fluttering around him. “Yes — god, yes — your cock is so much bigger — fuck me like he never could —”

She came hard a moment later — her whole body shaking violently, pussy clenching and spasming around his thick shaft in tight, rhythmic pulses. A loud, raw moan tore from her throat as fresh wetness gushed around him, coating his cock and dripping down her thighs onto the floor. Lev didn’t slow down at all. He kept pounding through her orgasm, hips snapping furiously, chasing his own release.

“Fuck — I’m gonna fill you up,” he growled, gripping her hips tighter, fingers bruising her skin. “Gonna pump this pussy full of cum while you’re still shaking from cumming on my dick.”

With one final, deep thrust he buried himself to the hilt and groaned loudly, his cock pulsing as he unloaded thick, hot spurts deep inside her. Leslie whimpered at the feeling, her ass still twitching with aftershocks as he kept grinding against her, milking every drop.

They stayed locked together for a long moment, both panting heavily, Leslie’s full tits still heaving and pressed against the desk. Lev finally pulled out slowly, a thick trickle of his cum leaking from her swollen pussy and running down her inner thigh.

“Better than Hofstadter?” Lev asked with a smug chuckle, still catching his breath, his hand lazily stroking her bruised ass.

Leslie laughed breathlessly, her body still trembling. “Much better. That nerd couldn’t fuck me like this if his life depended on it.”

Back at the apartment that evening, Leonard sat on the couch looking utterly defeated. His shoulders were slumped so low they almost touched his knees, and he stared at the floor like it had personally betrayed him. The takeout container from dinner sat untouched on the coffee table, the smell of cold lo mein slowly filling the room. Sheldon was in his usual spot on the other end of the couch, back perfectly straight, fingers flying across the keyboard of his laptop with mechanical precision. The soft clicking of keys was the only sound besides Leonard’s occasional sigh.

“I’m thinking about getting a cat,” Leonard muttered, his voice flat and lifeless. “Cats don’t reject you. They just ignore you. It’s honest. No awkward conversations, no stupid experiments, no getting turned down in a lab while your ego gets kicked in the balls.”

Sheldon didn’t look up from his screen, his fingers never slowing. “Statistically speaking, Penny has never actually rejected you.”

Leonard blinked slowly, lifting his head like it weighed fifty pounds. “What?”

“You have never asked her out,” Sheldon continued matter-of-factly, still typing. “Therefore, she has never rejected you. The data set is incomplete. Until you present her with an explicit invitation, the null hypothesis remains untested. Rejection cannot be confirmed without a proper trial.”

Leonard sat up a little straighter, a tiny spark of hope cutting through the thick fog of depression that had settled over him since leaving the university. “You’re right. I should just ask her. Dinner. Just the two of us. No group thing, no excuses, no Howard making terrible jokes, no Raj staring silently. Simple. Normal. Human.”

Sheldon finally glanced over, one eyebrow raised a fraction of a millimeter. “A binary choice. Acceptable risk parameters. Though I would advise against using the word ‘string theory’ as an alibi again. It is factually inaccurate and easily disproven.”

The next day Leonard caught Penny in the hallway as she was coming back from the grocery store. She had two reusable bags hooked over her arms, one starting to slip. She looked cute — simple gray tank top that clung just enough to show the soft curve of her breasts, denim shorts that rode high on her toned legs, and her blonde hair tied back loosely with a few strands falling around her face. A light sheen of sweat from carrying the bags made her skin glow under the hallway lights.

“Hey, Penny,” Leonard said, trying to sound confident even though his stomach was doing violent flips and his palms were already sweaty. He stepped forward to help her with one of the bags, but she shifted it before he could grab it.

“Would you like to go to dinner with me? Just us. Tomorrow night?”

Penny smiled brightly, adjusting the slipping bag with a little hip wiggle that made Leonard’s eyes flick down for half a second before he forced them back up. “Oh, that sounds fun! The whole gang? I’ll bring dessert. I make a killer cheesecake. Everyone loves it.”

Leonard’s stomach sank like a stone. He recovered quickly, forcing what he hoped was a natural smile. “Actually… I was thinking just you and me. The guys are… busy. Sheldon has a thing with… string theory. Howard and Raj are… at a comic convention. In… Canada.”

Penny tilted her head, clearly not buying the obvious, ridiculous lie for even a second. Her lips twitched with amusement, but she played along anyway, giving him a small, knowing smile. “Okay, sure. Just us. Sounds good. Pick me up at seven?”

“Yeah. Seven. Perfect.” Leonard nodded a little too enthusiastically, relief and nerves mixing in his chest.

She gave him a little wave with one of the grocery bags and continued toward her door, hips swaying naturally as she walked. Leonard watched her go until her door clicked shut, his heart racing with a messy combination of excitement and pure anxiety.

That night, as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, he replayed the short conversation in his head on an endless loop. Penny had said yes. Just the two of them. No gang, no excuses, no safety net. Maybe this time he could actually tell her how he felt.

Across the hall, the familiar sounds started again.

It began low — a soft, breathy moan from Penny that quickly built into something louder, needier. The rhythmic creak of her bedframe joined in, steady and insistent. Then the wet slap of bodies meeting — skin on skin, flesh rippling with every hard thrust. Wilt’s deep, low groan mixed with Penny’s higher cries, the unmistakable sound of his hips snapping against her ass growing faster and louder.

Leonard closed his eyes, his hand already slipping under the covers despite the shame burning in his chest. His cock was hard before he even touched it. He wrapped his fingers around himself and started stroking slowly at first, then faster, matching the rhythm he could hear through the wall.

“Fuck — yes — right there —” Penny’s voice carried clearly, broken and desperate.

The headboard started thumping against the wall in time with the wet, filthy sounds of Wilt pounding into her. Leonard’s hand moved quicker, breath coming short as he imagined it — Wilt’s thick cock stretching Penny open, her tits bouncing wildly, her ass rippling with every brutal slam.

Another loud moan from Penny, then a sharp cry as she came. Leonard bit his lip, stroking faster, shame and arousal twisting together until he couldn’t tell them apart.

Tomorrow. He’d try again tomorrow.

He came hard a minute later, spilling over his own fingers while the sounds from across the hall continued — Penny’s second orgasm building, her voice getting louder, Wilt’s deep grunts mixing with the relentless slap of flesh on flesh.

Leonard lay there afterward, chest heaving, cum cooling on his stomach, feeling more pathetic than ever.

But he still had tomorrow.

The next evening Leonard stood outside Penny’s door, freshly showered, wearing his nicest button-down shirt — the blue one that he thought made his shoulders look a little broader — and a pair of dark jeans that didn’t have any visible stains or mysterious holes. His hand still had a small bandage from the restaurant disaster the night before, but he tried to ignore the way it itched. He wiped his palms on his thighs one last time, took a deep breath, and knocked — three quick, nervous raps that sounded too loud in the quiet hallway.

He waited, heart hammering so hard he could feel it in his throat. Footsteps approached from inside. The door opened.

Penny stood there wearing a simple blue dress that hugged her curves just enough to make Leonard’s brain short-circuit for a full second. The fabric clung to the swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist, and the flare of her hips before ending a few inches above her knees. Her hair was down in loose waves that framed her face, and she smelled like vanilla body lotion mixed with something sweet — maybe the lip gloss she was wearing. She looked effortlessly pretty, the kind of pretty that made Leonard feel both lucky and completely out of his depth.

“Hey,” she said with an easy, warm smile that reached her eyes. “You clean up nice.”

“Thanks,” Leonard managed, swallowing hard. “You look… great. Really great.”

Penny’s smile widened a fraction. “Ready?”

“Yep. Let’s do this.”

They walked down the stairs together. Leonard kept sneaking glances at her when he thought she wasn’t looking — the way the dress moved and swayed with each step, the soft, natural bounce of her chest, the gentle curve of her ass that the fabric accentuated. Every time his mind flashed back to the sounds from last night — Wilt’s low, deep groans, Penny’s loud, unrestrained moans, the rhythmic slapping of skin on skin — a messy wave of jealousy and unwanted arousal twisted in his gut. He tried to push the memories away, but they kept creeping back.

At the restaurant they got a corner booth near the back, away from the noisy families. Conversation started light and easy. Penny told him about a terrible audition she had that week for a toothpaste commercial where the director kept asking her to “smile with more enthusiasm.” Leonard told her about a failed experiment in the lab that had almost set off the fire alarm when a solution bubbled over dramatically. They laughed — genuine laughs that made the tension in Leonard’s shoulders loosen a little. The wine helped. For a while he felt almost normal, like maybe tonight could actually go well.

Halfway through the main course, after the waiter had cleared their appetizer plates, Penny set her fork down and looked at him directly across the table. Her expression was casual, but there was a hint of something deliberate in her eyes.

“So… Wilt isn’t my boyfriend or anything,” she said, twirling the stem of her wine glass between her fingers. “We’re just having casual sex. It helps me get over bad relationships. No strings, no drama. Just… fun. Hot, no-pressure fun.”

Leonard’s fork froze halfway to his mouth. A sudden rush of excitement hit him hard — sharp and hopeful. His pulse kicked up. “Really? That’s… good to know. I mean, cool. Casual is… fine.”

Penny smiled, a little amused, like she could see right through his attempt at sounding chill. “Yeah. I like keeping things simple right now. After the whole Kurt thing, I’m not looking for anything serious. Just enjoying myself.”

Leonard’s confidence surged. Maybe this was his opening. Maybe she was telling him this on purpose, testing the waters, giving him a green light. He leaned forward slightly, mouth opening to say something smooth — something clever about how he could be simple too — when his elbow caught the edge of his water glass.

The glass tipped instantly. Cold water spilled straight into his lap in a dramatic splash.

“Shit—” He jumped up too fast. His knee slammed into the underside of the table with a loud thud. The chair leg caught the edge of the tablecloth, yanking it sideways. Plates slid, glasses clinked dangerously, and half the silverware crashed to the floor with a chaotic clatter that seemed to echo through the entire restaurant.

The whole place went quiet for a painful second. Heads turned.

Penny jumped up too, grabbing a stack of napkins from the table. “Oh my god, Leonard! Are you okay?”

He was soaked from the waist down, the front of his jeans dark and clinging uncomfortably. A small cut on his hand from a broken shard was bleeding lightly, and his face was burning bright red with embarrassment. “I’m fine. Just… clumsy. Really clumsy.”

Penny helped him mop up as best she could, pressing napkins against his lap while the waiter hurried over with more towels and a concerned look. She flagged the waiter down for the check, her voice calm and apologetic. “Come on. Let’s get you home before you destroy the rest of the place.”

She drove them back to the building. Leonard sat in the passenger seat, wet and embarrassed, the fabric of his jeans cold and sticky against his skin. He tried to make small talk — something about the weather, the food, anything — but most of it fell flat, his voice tight with humiliation. Penny kept the conversation going gently, but he could tell she was being nice about it.

When they reached the apartment building Penny walked him all the way to his door, even though her own was right across the hall. She stopped in front of 4A, turning to face him.

“Thanks for tonight,” Leonard mumbled, holding up his bandaged hand like it was evidence of his failure. “Even though I kind of ruined it.”

“You didn’t ruin it,” she said gently, her voice soft and sincere. “You tried. That counts for something. Get some rest, okay? Maybe ice that hand.”

She gave him a quick hug — brief, friendly, her body warm and soft against his for just a second — then pulled back with a small smile. She crossed the hall to her own door, keys jingling in her hand.

Leonard watched her go until her door clicked shut behind her. Then he stepped inside 4A, closed the door, and leaned against it, letting out a long, defeated breath.

He still hadn’t told her how he really felt.

And the courage he’d felt earlier had completely evaporated, leaving nothing but the familiar ache of disappointment and the cold, wet reminder of another failed night.

Across the hall, Penny closed her door and leaned against it for a second, letting out a slow breath. The hallway light had been too bright after the dim restaurant, and now the quiet of her apartment felt like a relief. She’d suspected what Leonard was up to the whole night — the nervous energy that made his hands shake when he reached for his glass, the way he kept steering the conversation back to safe topics, the hopeful, almost puppy-dog look in his eyes every time she laughed at one of his jokes. It was sweet, in a sad kind of way. He was trying so hard. But she wasn’t interested in anything serious right now. Not after Kurt, not after the mess of moving, not when things with Wilt felt easy and fun and exactly what she needed — no expectations, no pressure, just good sex when she wanted it.

She kicked off her heels, the dress suddenly feeling a little too tight after sitting for so long. As she headed toward the kitchen for a glass of water, she made a mental note to set up a small security camera outside her door. Just a cheap one, nothing fancy. She’d caught Leonard lingering in the hallway once already, and after tonight she had a feeling it might happen again. Better to know for sure than wonder every time she heard footsteps.

Inside 4A, Leonard dropped heavily onto the couch, the wet spot on his jeans still cold and uncomfortable against his skin. He didn’t even bother turning on the TV. Sheldon was in his usual spot, back ramrod straight, fingers clicking rapidly across the laptop keyboard as he worked on some late-night paper or simulation.

“How was your evening with Penny?” Sheldon asked without looking up, his tone as neutral as if he were asking about the weather.

“Disaster,” Leonard muttered, rubbing his face with both hands. “I spilled water on myself, knocked over half the table, broke a glass, cut my hand, and she had to drive me home like a child. I looked like a complete idiot.”

Sheldon nodded once, still typing. “Statistically predictable. Your fine motor skills decrease by approximately 37% when you are experiencing romantic anxiety. Add in elevated heart rate and adrenaline, and the probability of physical clumsiness rises to nearly 82%. You should have factored that in beforehand.”

Leonard groaned loudly and slumped deeper into the cushions. “Thanks, Sheldon. That makes me feel so much better.”

“You are welcome.” Sheldon paused his typing for a moment, tilting his head slightly. “Did you at least convey your romantic intentions clearly?”

“No. I still didn’t tell her how I feel. Every time I tried to steer the conversation that way, I either froze or spilled something. It was pathetic.”

Sheldon resumed typing. “Perhaps you should simply ask her out again. With better preparation this time. Create a detailed checklist. Rehearse possible conversational branches. Avoid liquids near your elbows. I can assist with the script if needed.”

Leonard stared at the ceiling, the faint sounds of Penny moving around in her apartment drifting through the wall. “Yeah. Maybe.”

The next few days passed in a blur of awkwardness and quiet misery. Leonard avoided the hallway whenever he heard voices or footsteps, timing his trips to the laundry room or mailbox for when he thought Penny might be at work or out with friends. He jerked off twice more to memories of the sounds from her apartment — Wilt’s deep, rumbling voice giving low commands, Penny’s loud, unrestrained orgasms, the wet slapping of bodies and the rhythmic creak of her bed. Each time he came he felt worse afterward, the shame hitting him harder than the relief. He’d lie there staring at the ceiling, sticky and disgusted with himself, promising it was the last time.

One afternoon he ran into Wilt in the laundry room in the basement. Wilt was loading a pile of sheets into one of the washers — sheets that probably still smelled like sex and sweat and Penny’s vanilla lotion. The tall man moved with that easy, confident grace, his lean muscles shifting under his T-shirt as he poured detergent. He gave Leonard a small, calm nod when he noticed him, completely unbothered.

“Hey,” Wilt said, voice deep and relaxed.

“Hey.” Leonard’s voice came out higher than he wanted, almost cracking. His eyes flicked down for half a second to the noticeable bulge in Wilt’s sweatpants before he forced them away, cheeks burning. He suddenly felt small and scrawny standing there with his basket of socks and lab shirts.

Wilt smirked slightly, like he knew exactly what Leonard had just looked at and exactly what he was thinking. “Everything good, man?”

“Yeah. Fine.” Leonard grabbed his own basket a little too quickly, nearly dropping it. “Just… laundry.”

He fled upstairs as fast as he could without actually running, heart pounding, the image of Wilt’s bulge and the memory of those moans burning in his brain the whole way.

By the time he got back to 4A he was breathing hard. He dumped the laundry on the floor and collapsed onto the couch again, the cycle of shame and arousal starting all over.

Sheldon looked up from his laptop this time. “You appear distressed. Did you encounter the downstairs neighbor again?”

Leonard didn’t answer. He just closed his eyes and tried to forget the way Penny had smiled at him during dinner — the same smile she probably gave Wilt right before he carried her to bed.

Tomorrow. He’d try again tomorrow.

Or maybe he’d just get that cat after all.

That night the noises started again.

Penny’s moans carried clearly through the thin walls—high, needy, broken. “Fuck—yes—harder—”

The rhythmic thump of the headboard against the wall. Wet slapping sounds. Wilt’s low groans.

Leonard sat on his couch, cock already hard in his hand before he even realized he’d pulled it out. He stroked himself fast, eyes closed, imagining it again—Wilt’s big black cock stretching Penny open, pounding deep, rearranging her insides while she screamed.

Across the hall Penny was on all fours on her bed, ass high, Wilt behind her slamming in deep. Her tits swung heavily with every thrust. Wilt reached around and pinched her nipples hard, making her cry out.

“Those nerds are probably listening again,” Wilt growled, slapping her ass. Bet they're jerking off right now.”

Penny moaned louder. “Let them hear. Fuck me harder—make me cum so loud they can’t ignore it.”

Wilt did—pounding her until she came hard, pussy clenching, squirting a little onto the sheets. He followed right after, filling her deep with thick spurts.

Leonard came at almost the same moment—spurting over his own hand, shame flooding him as the high faded.

He wiped himself clean and stared at the ceiling.

“I’m pathetic,” he whispered.

The next morning Sheldon found him still on the couch, looking miserable.

“You should get a cat,” Sheldon suggested. “They require minimal emotional investment.”

Leonard laughed weakly. “Yeah. Maybe.”

But deep down he knew the real problem wasn’t solved.

He still wanted Penny.

And he still didn’t know how to tell her.