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We have a shameful confession to make: Despite the fact that we find the show's characters universally whiny and their monotonously dysfunctional relationships anything but compelling, we've fallen into HBO's clever trap, tuning in to all three of new drama Tell Me You Love Me's episodes just to see how far the show can push the graphic-fucking envelope before the entire network is consigned to the pay-per-view Hot Zone for its transgressions against premium-cable decency standards.

While we briefly thought that last night's scene in which frequently de-pantsed, possibly infertile star Sonya Walger attempts to dirty-talk frustrated partner Adam Scott through the arduous process of harvesting a sperm sample from the stunt-cock that made such a memorable debut in the series premiere might represent the episode's erotic high-point, we knew that the producers were holding back for a bigger finish. And they delivered: all of our voyeuristic buttons were pushed as we heard vaguely Mirrenesque therapist Dr. Foster sternly demand, "Fuck me!" of the husband with whom she had been recently bickering, then go on to prove in the ensuing moments of tangled sexagenarian limbs and thrusting buttocks you could bounce an AARP card off of that the show will open-mindedly afford its white-haired folks the same opportunities to explicitly screw away their interpersonal problems as it does its younger, more self-absorbed twenty-and thirtysomethings.