Art of dialogue

Jerry and Linda found themselves living together after only 5 months of fore play.  Three times in the last 2 weeks and one orgasm later, they were sick of each other.
Neither felt uneasy or discomfort. In fact, it was quite the opposite. It's as if they were so easy at the start that the need for completion was just not there....ever. 
"Did you come?" she asked.
"Yeah, you?" he responded between breaths.
Emotionally tangled in a web of which their own blind and stupid spiders searched, every bit of joy they experienced, took them further and further away from the joy they didn't realize they had.
"Good stuff," He said "excellent enthusiasm."
"Uh huh." she lifted her head slightly and lowered like she had the first time they met and he saw it.
He sat up pissed "What's that supposed to mean?!"
"What do you mean baby?"
"Don't 'baby' me! You know hat the fuck I mean Linda! Don't patronize me!" He was on his naked feet groping the carpet for pants that were in the other room.
"I'm not patronizing you! I'm agreeing! That was great sex! What's your fucking problem Jerry?!" She was now up on her naked feet breezing by him, exasperated. He in hot pursuit.
She picked up his pants and her panties in one fell swoop, hitting him square in the face with his 501's.
"I don't have a problem, Lin-DUH. You're being a bitch!" After the blow to the face he couldn't remember for the life of him what they were arguing about in the first place but he was still angry and that's all that mattered because in his mind, if he was angry, she had to have done something to piss him off.
"Honey, please don't start." she pleaded, almost fully clothed while he thrashed about for a shirt. "I was just agreeing."
"Yeah right you were!" he pointed at her like a shirt should pop out of her and prove the innocence that he wanted but couldn't understand.
She stared weakly and held out her hands, void of shirt forgiveness or shirt fight. "Lets just go to bed sweety."
"I don't want to...you can't.....damnit woman! YOU'RE WRONG!! and WHAT IN THE HELL DID YOU DO WITH MY SHIRT?!?!"
She sighed heavily, sauntered over to his side, bent at the hips and nearly toppled him over when she pulled his shirt out from under his feet. It dangled from her finger tips like a tease that both aroused and infuriated him.
"Thank -YOU." He nearly smacked it out of her hand on his haphazard half strut to the couch.
The remote he now held proved to be little comfort to his bruised ego and he didn't realize she had even hit him.
She stopped on her way back to the bedroom and looked back at him lovingly.
"WHAT?!" he belted.
She lowered he eyes "Nothing." she said, walked into the bedroom and simultaneously began to disrobe and descend onto the bed.
He felt bad the instant he yelled 'what' at her. After a brief fight with himself about whether to follow her or not, he did.
He stood in the doorway looking at her figure beneath the blankets and felt thankful that his bed was occupied by such a wonderful woman. How could he have forgotten so quickly? He shed his cotton skin and as lightly as he could, slid between the sheets  and spooned the hell out of her beautiful body. She pulled his arm around her and she rubbed her face dry on the pillows.
"What's happened to us Linny?"
"I don't know Jerry, jus' hold me ok?"
They held each other.
They looked beyond the wall.
They felt their hearts break.......but didn't know why.
"Wanna go to IHOP tomorrow?" she asked
"Yeah babe. Whatever you want."