It isn't that easy

"It isn't that easy," you explain. "That would be sort of like writing C# code by just randomly inputting commands without understanding what they do. At best, you'd get a syntax error. At worst... well, you know what can happen if bad code gets past the compiler check."

Crystal stands, walks around to your side of the table and puts a hand on your shoulder. "Still," her voice is throaty, "maybe it wouldn't hurt to try."

"Well, that's pretty dangerous and..." you let your voice trail off when you finally realize what she's saying. Crap, did you just talk yourself out of sex with Crystal?

"I guess we could at least try," you say. "You know, as a sort of warmup or something. Just to see if we get any reaction."

"Of course, if you'd rather, we could try chanting mantras."

"Uh, I guess that would be okay."

She laughs. "You're an idiot, Mike. Come on, get naked and let's see what we have to work with here."

"Maybe we can make out for a bit first."

"I don't know. Can we?"

If that isn't a cue, you don't know what is. You spin your chair around, grab the hand she still has resting on your shoulder and pull her into your lap.

She looks at you, her blue eyes shining. "What are you going to do now that you've caught me?"

You kiss her.

She meets your lips with hers, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and pulling you tight.

Instinctively your hand goes for her tits but you manage to stop it before it gets there. You're not a teenager any more, you should show some restraint. More to the point, you want Crystal to keep wanting more, not feel like you're the kind of guy who only cares about tits.

Instead you snake your arm behind her and hold her.

"You actually have some muscle," she whispers when you come up for air.

"I've been working out."

"And it shows."

You're not sure it really does show... a week of working out isn't scientifically proven to have much of an impact on muscle mass... although a workout can **** some blood into the muscle and give a temporary pump and working out can also create some inflammation in the muscle tissue resulting, again, in the appearance of more muscle mass than is actually the case. In a moment of supreme clarity, though, you realize that explaining this to Crystal would be close to the dumbest thing you could do. Even if she is a bit of a nerd.

"You are incredibly sexy," you whisper, figuring that repaying the compliment can't hurt and also because it's true.

"How come every single person you told me about is a girl?"

"Huh?"

"The librarian, the math nerd, the physics nerd, the anthropology nerd, the self-defense guru. Every single one is a girl."

"Uh, coincidence."

"You know what I think?" She kisses you on the nose.

"You think I'm a pervert?"

She laughs. "Probably. But what I think is that the magic is working for you."

"It's not magic, it's computer programming."

"Is that what your pet anthropologist says?"

"I think she just knows a little Python. It's what they use in--"

Crystal laughs. "You are such a dufus. Come on, let's move to the bed."