Let's find out.

Matt stared at Penny in shock. "You're offering to... what? To blow me? Jesus Christ, I told you I was mourning my fucking wife but you don't have the decen-"

"Matt!" she interrupted. "I'm still your fucking wife. I still feel those feelings! They just don't hurt. Like pain, right? If I touch a hot stove, I'll still jerk my hand back reflexively. I'll still feel the pain, but it'll be just another sensation. No different from touching a pillow, or a piece of sandpaper."

Matt rolled his eyes. "So do the talking points just, like, appear in your head when you take the pill?"

She frowned deliberately. "This isn't a talking point. This is me telling you what I am. I'm telling you that just because I can't feel the sting of an insult, I can recognize the contempt behind it. And I see the man I love talking about me in the third fucking person and I love you and I want to be your-"

He lunged forward, locking lips with her. She fell back with the ****, laughing as her head bounced off of their thinning carpet. He looked into her eyes.

"Penny?" he whispered.

"Right here, dumbass," she smiled and punched his arm lightly. "You were so sure I was dead or gone or whatever that you couldn't-"

He cut her off with another kiss. He reached down and gently cupped her right breast. She broke the kiss and smiled at him. "Wanna go to bed?"

In the bedroom, they hurriedly undressed. He stared as her panties dropped to the floor, eyes glued to the soft curves giving way to supple, slightly muscular calves. "Hey, Penny?"

"Yeah?" she said with a smile, climbing into bed beside him.

"This was the stupidest decision you ever made," he said evenly.

She eyed him back, her smile faltering. "I'm sorry?"

Matt turned to face her. "I mean, what kind of dipshit signs away their future for a dopamine hit? You could end up doing meth in an abandoned traincar for all you know. You don't have a defense mechanism."

She frowned again. "You know I do. If I know I'm in danger, I can protect myself."

He stared at her face. "You're frowning."

She rolled her eyes. "It didn't seem like the right time for a goofy grin. Dipshit."

He surged against her suddenly, running one hand through her hair. "Oh my God, that defense mechanism..." he whispered into her ear. "Act mad. Act bitchy. Don't just fucking smile at-"

"You want bitchy?" Penny shoved Matt away suddenly, glaring at him with contempt. "You want fucking bitchy?" She climbed on top of him, the thrill of his rock-hard member against her slit almost making her break character.

"You little worm," she hissed. "You-"

"No, no, not that," Matt said and she looked confused. "Bitchy. Complain about normal stuff. Tell me to lose weight or clean the fucking garage."

She laughed and he blushed. "Seriously?"

"Well, I mean- I wasn't-"

She cut him off sharply. "Matt, quit stammering. You told me what you want, I'm gonna do it. One nice thing about the anesthetic," she said as she reached down to guide him to her shaft, "is that it helps with boredom."

He laughed at that, then began kissing her breasts as she moaned. "More," he said as she pumped herself into him. "More negativity."

"It's tough to- oohhff, it's tough to be negative this close to orgasm. But I'm also pretty close to that greasy brillo pad of pubes on your face-"

He fell back with laughter and she laughed with him, relishing the slight quavering it sent through his cock inside of her. "Ok, turn it down, Diceman. That was pretty ooOOH what-"

She had leaned back to the left and was making circles with her hips, gyrating herself onto and off of him. It felt unearthly and before he knew it Matt was coming, coming in floods, coming in his wife as hard as he ever had before collapsing back onto the sheets, soaked in sweat and gasping for air next to Penny, who was doing the same. She sighed. "Where the fuck did that come from?"

He stared at the ceiling. "You know, I really meant it when I said that I believe you're her. I also meant it when I said you were a dipshit."

She frowned but he shook his head. "You don't have to put on a show anymore. I know you don't care what I call you, which is why you're a dipshit."

She smiled lazily, enjoying the throaty timbre of his voice, basking in a post-orgasmic bliss. Nothing could touch her here. "I see."

"You don't, but you will. Losing your ability to experience you the negative means I can do whatever I want to you, and you'll take it. You'll enjoy it."

She considered what he said. He was right, she supposed. She knew that before the anesthetic, alarms would have been going off in her head. But if he didn't want her to act like things bothered her, she wouldn't. "I suppose so," she replied mildly.