Her fingers ached as she removed them from her dripping wet pussy and and put them in her mouth. An almost involuntary moan escaping her lips as she tasted the unique taste and smelt the musk she'd become so familiar with.
"God, that turns me on when you do that," the girl beneath her says.
"Mmm, that's right, baby, I love the way you taste right after you cum," Santana replies, licking her fingers clean.
She notices the ache deep between her legs has grown into a throbbing pulsation now and she realizes she needs the girls' mouth on her, and in her, now.
"Fuck, are you ready for me to ride your face?"
She can't make out the girl's mumbles as she's lowering herself onto that beautiful face.
Santana wakes up panting and checks herself. Yep, wet again, as she suspected.
Considering it's the fourth or fifth time she's had a dream like this, namely one with a woman in it, in the past month, she's not very surprised at this point. Alarmed, yes, but not surprised.
Steeling herself for now, she decides to go back to sleep because she is definitely absolutely most decidedly not into women. She chants this mantra to herself over and over as she falls back asleep and vows to go through with making that damn appointment first thing in the morning.
Waking up far too early for her liking, she greets the day with a giant wonderful glare as she looks at her reflection in the mirror during her morning ritual. She's got so much on her plate this week, she thinks, as she mentally prepares a to-do list like she does most mornings before getting out there.
Her lack of orgasms lately is so infuriating that she's decided to go through with what her friend, Q, suggested - a therapist. While balking at the idea initially, who is she to need help from some sap with minimal schooling who could give a tiny rat's ass about her well being over the paycheck coming their way?
Alas, after having to fake the last, who knows how many, orgasms with Derek, she decided it was time for action. Well, and with Steven and Anton too, but who's counting right? Not to mention these dreams have been royally annoying her. Sure, she's made out with girls before at parties for attention but that doesn't mean she's actually into them that way.
No, she's not going to a therapist for sexuality issues, it's because she's struggling at work and that's obviously spilling over into the bedroom and elsewhere. Dreams be damned. She needs help with normal heterosexual problems like stress, her temper, and naturally with her relationship(s).
Derek knows they're not exclusive, probably. She knows he's great on paper for her and she should be settling down, like her mother tells her, and Derek would be the perfect arm candy. She needs to just get a handle on her life and then things will fall in place. Or at least that's what she keeps telling herself.
She calls to make the appointment for the therapist she was referred to who her best friend's sister's doctor's shaman recommended or some horse shit like that. Whatever, she doesn't mind as long as there are no shrunken heads in their office or any judgmental stares, for that matter.
Surprisingly, the next opening isn't for three weeks and she almost contemplates giving up on the whole thing. But what she sets her mind to, she does and therefore, she counts down the days until the appointment.
"Is this an office building or someone's condo?" she snarkily thinks to herself as she enters the building her phone directed her to. Curiously looking around the room that she assumes must be the waiting room she sees no one.
"Hmm, nothing like the movies with quirky people and witty banter," she thinks to herself as she spots a sign in sheet on the table next to her. She sees the name at the top of the page, Brittany Pierce, and she knows she's at least in the correct place. Having a female therapist was important to her because she could relate better to her, right? Plus all male doctors she's ever met in her life, and there has been many given her father's profession, have been pompous asses in her eyes.
She's playing a game on her phone, paperwork long forgotten, when a voice permeates the silence in the room.
"You must be Santana Lopez?"
"That's me," She says without glancing up from her phone. She just needs to save this round.
"Cool, are you ready?"
"Yeah, sure," Santana replies. She notices this Brittany is pleasantly much younger than she suspected. She's attractive too, she could be doing something much more profitable than this she thinks. There must be some reason why she's chosen to be a therapist and this instantly makes her suspicious of Brittany's intentions.
"You look deep in thought," Brittany tells her as she sits down on the orange couch opposite of the zebra striped bean bag chair the blonde herself plops into.
"Well, I was just thinking you're very attractive. I mean," she catches herself, "you're more attractive than I would've thought you'd be, you know, as a therapist. I just expected you to be, oh, I don't know, not you," she finishes weakly while trying to convey her thoughts without sounding like a fucking mess.
Brittany smiles widely and says, "Thank you, although, I think beauty is subjective in most cases but coming from you, an objectively gorgeous woman, thank you very much."
Santana narrows her eyes and stares at her trying to gauge her intent. Are therapists allowed to call their patients "objectively gorgeous"? She thinks she must be flattering her so she comes back for more sessions to pad her wallet. The way her eyes seem to almost twinkle, though, she almost seems genuine. When Santana realizes what she just thought to herself and how sappy it sounds, she gives herself a mental smack on the head.
"So, Santana, why don't you start by telling me a little bit about yourself and why you're here today?"
She goes through the same old rigmarole that she's complained to Q about for the past however many months about stress at work, stress at home, stress with her parents, difficulty keeping up at the gym and her lack of orgasms lately. She does, however, neglect to mention that pesky recurring dream as she brushes it off as inconsequential and trivial in nature.
"So, Doc, how are you gonna fix me?" she concludes.
Brittany chuckles at that and grins like she did earlier. "First," she says, "you can call me Brittany and second, there's no easy magic button to fix things, although I wish there was, and well unicorns too if we're wishing for things. Also, I think it's important to note, that I don't think you need to be fixed at all."
"No?" Santana counters.
"Not at all," the blonde replies grinning. "I think you're perfectly wonderful the way you are, Santana , and we can make it our goal to just improve upon what's already there and touch on those issues you just mentioned. If you want to get down to the nitty gritty of it all, I tend to use strategies from both cognitive and dialectical behavior therapy here as I see needed. But really, you're on top. You hold the reins here. You'll get out of this what you put into it, I promise you that."
She is taken back by Brittany's reply. She's not sure what to make of this woman. She gives her a good looking-over and takes in her appearance. It's at this point when she notices she's barefoot sitting with her feet crossed under her since she's on that silly bean bag chair and in a skirt no less. Long legs to match her long arms and nice tits...
She stops herself there when she realizes she's staring at the blonde who's wearing a decidedly devious smirk. It's totally normal to want to scrutinize your therapist she thinks to herself, everyone does it, probably.
"Yeah, sure, game on, Britt."
"Great, I'd really love to help you out, Santana."
Brittany is grinning broadly again and she can't keep but think that she just looks so, so...
She can't put her finger on it. She just seems...happy? That must be it. She's just so happy and Santana is just so...not.
She thinks they're like polar opposites as this point and questions Brittany's sincerity. She decides to play a game and see if she can ruffle some feathers. Sex therapy was listed on her website as one of her specializations, after all.
"So, Doc, er, Brittany," she says, "maybe you can help me with something that's been just eating away at me day after day."
"I'll do my best, go on."
"Well, you see, I was watching this movie with my boyf—with my guy friend, who I also fuck every now and then, the other day. It had this scene with two women in it. A blonde and a brunette, funny enough. The blonde had her hand on the other's thigh and was slowly moving it higher and higher up under her skirt. You could tell they were playing a game of How High with each other because they were staring into each other's eyes and were in some sort of booth, secluded yet still most definitely public.
"You could tell the brunette wanted more but she wasn't going to initiate it. The blonde seemed to get her drift though and pushed her skirt up. The brunette lifted her hips to allow the movement to push it up to her waist, effectively exposing herself and giving away her intentions in one fell swoop. The blonde noticed this right away and and told the other what a bad girl she was while she moved her panties to the side and gasped at how wet she already was. She slid her fingers through her pussy and pulled them away slightly creating a trail of wetness connecting her fingers with her slick folds.
"That's when she put her fingers into her mouth and licked them clean before moving closer to the girl and telling her to stay quiet while talking into her ear. She pushed the panties over again but this time she ran her finger up and down her pussy before slipping inside burying her finger. The brunette was obviously having trouble keeping quiet which only seemed to spurn the other girl forward. She was thrusting in and out and started to rub circles around her clit with her thumb. Laughing devilishly, the brunette then added two fingers to the mix.
"She kept at this pace and you could see the girl's heavy breathing from a mile away but she didn't stop. Even when a waiter came to the table, the brunette sweetly asked for another round of drinks while knuckle deep in the other girl. One he left, she took it up a notch and told her to lift her shirt up. With her tits exposed and out in the open, she ordered the brunette to squeeze her own breasts while she looked on and smirked.
"The brunette started moaning rather loudly at this point so the blonde had to put her hand over her mouth while still pounding her hand into the girl. They were somewhat secluded and could get away with their actions as they were only visible from the chest up. Right as the brunette pulled the blonde's hand away and told her she was about to cum, the blonde withdrew her hand and told the brunette she wasn't allowed to yet.
"Then, she made the brunette taste herself and lick her now soaking fingers. They were literally wrinkly from the amount of time spent in her wet pussy. The brunette's eyes rolled back and she seemed to be on the brink of orgasm just from tasting herself on the other girl's fingers.
"The blonde took away her fingers and put them on the girl's throat securely but gently and looked over to the man sitting with them and asked if he thought they should let her cum or not. He said yes and so the blonde finger fucked her 'til she came and then sucked the guy off under the table."
Santana finishes her story and gives Brittany a moment to reply so she can gauge her reaction. Her own cheeks feel a little flushed, granted, she did just make up that story off the top of her head. There was no movie. There might've been a dream similar to that, minus the man, but who's counting anyway, right?
"Well, that's a very unbelievable story," the blonde chuckles.
"Yeah, well, what do you think about it, Doc?"
"I think it sounded hot, well, some parts," she says. "I was curious though if there was a reason you made one a blonde and the other a brunette?"
"No reason, I just picked that because..." she trails off.
"Wait, I never said a made it up, I said it was from a movie. Fuck. Okay, caught me, now what?"
Brittany seems especially pleased with her admission judging by that broad grin she sports again. "I just wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that I'm blonde and you're brunette. If there was any sort of mirroring going on."
"Yeah, well," Santana continues, "the whole point is I've been contemplating having a threesome with my male friend and wanted to explore that idea a bit, that's all."
She fails to mention that there's never been a question of a threesome with Derek, or anyone else for that matter. Nor does she want to mention those thoughts, no, dreams. There are no thoughts, they're all subconscious going-ons in her sleeping mind, that's it.
"Hmm," Brittany seems to think. "How did that little story make you feel? I mean, are you wet right now from it?" She asks with a glint in her eye.
"Wouldn't you like to know," she counters matching her game.
"I think I can guess the answer to that."
"So, Britt, shall I let my friend fuck me and another girl?"
"Santana, I definitely think that if you're truly considering this, you should wait on it," she explains. "Starting therapy is a big change and it's not always good to also make other big changes right away, like a threesome, perhaps. I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess you've never been with another girl. I'm sure you'll have plenty of girls at your beck and call should you decide to go through with it but personally, I don't honk you should. Not right now, at least, okay?"
"Hmm," she says, "we'll see, Doc."
"I'd really love to see you again, though, if you'd like."
Santana's heart skips a beat and she feels...something?
Oh, wait, she's talking about for therapy, she thinks to herself.
She mentally slaps herself before setting up her next appointment with the beautiful blonde doctor. She has a PhD so that totally makes her a doctor, right?
As she stands up to leave the office, so does Brittany and she's suddenly struck with the though that she has no idea the proper way to end this meeting. Do they shake hands? Hug? High five?
She decides that the Doc is so bubbly and friendly she must be accepting of hugs and why not see if she can rattle her once more so she goes in for the hug. At that exact moment, Brittany goes in for a handshake and it results in one very awkward and bumbled half shoulder pat on Santana's part.
"Aw, you're cute," Brittany says as she chuckles at her antics.
"Yeah, well, I try," she mumbles under her breath while bolting out the door and not looking back the entire way to her car.
Later on that evening, Santana is replaying the events in her head while sitting on her sofa with her favorite craft beer in hand. Yeah, she's that kind of girl, apparently. Well, okay, maybe it was a gift from Q but, still, tonight is a night where she needs a drink. Clicking through title after title on Netflix, she plays a dangerous game of Netflix Roulette and closes her eyes while choosing a selection from the recommended queue to lull her to sleep.
Shortly thereafter, or perhaps a long time after, she's not quite sure, she hears a knock on her door. It isn't all that unusual given she is sort of a night owl by choice and a reluctant early bird while we're at it. No thinking of much of it and forgetting to check through the side window, what, her building's got good security, she answers the door and opens it slightly.
"Um, B-Brittany?" She manages to stutter out.
"You remembered!" She replies with a glint in her eye while loudly chuckling at her own "joke". "Before you ask, I just had some extra, um, you know..." she trails off while looking Santana up and down as she is stranding at the door in dangerously short shirts and a very thin tank top by the looks of it.
"No, I'm not sure I know what you're getting at," she retorts. Amused at the doctor's lack of eloquence and obvious staring. She knows she's hot but until this moment she wasn't sure if the other girl had noticed yet.
"Paperwork!" She half yells. "I have some very, very, extremely important paperwork I forgot to have you fill out earlier and, well, you know how insurance companies can be I'm sure. I was hoping I could just drop by super duper quickly to get you to fill it out and then I'll be out of your hair lickity split, scouts' honor," she says while holding up what could only be described as the Hook 'Em sign from that college in Texas.
Smiling widely at the doctor's rambling and cuteness, — is that even a word she's ever used before? — she opens the door to let her in.
As she closes the door, Brittany suddenly grabs her by the wrist as she walks past and spins her around. With them face to face, she says, "Finally, I've got you just to myself," and roughly pushes Santana towards the wall behind the door. With a heavy thud her back meets the wall and she's left breathless.
Without a moment to spare, the doctor steps forward as close as she can and rests her hands on the wall on either side of her face. "I think it's time to test out this little theory of mine to see how wet you can get for me right here and now which will either prove or disprove my hypothesis," she states. Leaning closer to her face and whispering hotly into her ear she continues, "I'm rarely ever wrong, though."
She leans her head back a bit and licks her lips while looking up and down the brunette's body and noticing very, very stiff nipples poking through her thin shirt, which were definitely not noticeable a few moments ago. With a devious smirk and chuckle she stares straight into her eyes and husks, "Lift up my skirt and take off my panties."
Without even having time to think, Santana stares into those blue eyes and swallows heavily before reaching down.
"Ah, ah, ah," Brittany scolds. "Kneel down while you do it."
"What, excuse me?"
"I think you heard me loud and clear, San," she says sternly with a pointed look.
She almost embarrassingly quickly drops to her knees and begins to slide her hands up the blonde's toned calves to reach her skirt.
"And Santana," she says while gently lifting her chin and angling it up towards her, "make sure to look at me while you do it."
Nodding immediately, she obliges and continues to stare into those baby blues while using both of her hands to slide the material higher and higher up the doctor's legs until it reaches her hips and reveals the tantalizingly small amount of fabric covering the woman in front of her in a decidedly non-professional lacy fabric, but they've left professionalism a long time ago.
Staring in front of her while remaining immobile and trying to steel her courage. She's usually the one being undressed in situations like these after all, not counting in her dreams of course.
"I know it's pretty to look at, darling, but go on like the good girl I know you are."
Feeling a rush of encouragement, or maybe arousal, course through her, Santana decides to up the ante and reaches around to the woman's, as she soon finds out, very round and firm ass to slowly pull down the panties with her hands reaching around back while pushing her face into the front to lightly nip and use her more than ample lips to help the front side go down as well.
She softly nudges her nose a little bit further into the girl in front of her than is necessary but smells that unique scent that makes her immediately clench her own thighs in response of her increasing arousal, yes, there's no denying this is turning her on immensely. If she had time to stop and think she might even be embarrassed about how much this is turning her on.
Sitting back on her heels she looks smugly back up at the blonde standing above her but can't help but keep her eyes from darting back and forth between those eyes and the glistening pussy on display before her.
"That's a good girl," she says as she helps Santana back onto her feet and guides her hand down to her center while locking eyes with her and smiling that broad smile again.
She gasps as her fingers make contact with the bare wet flesh before her and tentatively moves her fingers around exploring the smooth folds between her fingers. Looking in down in awe, her mouth drops open as she feels the doctor's wet folds and is struck with a curious desire to know what it feels like to be inside of her, what she tastes like, and what she sounds like when she cums all at the same time and she almost can't decide what to do next.
Desire spurning her on, she moves her index finger lower looking for that spot where she can be inside or the blonde in front of her. Smiling when she finds it she moves her finger and down and then upwards slowly into her pussy.
"Mmm, that's it,"
"Yeah?" Santana breathes out, "You like that?"
"Mm-hmm, let's see what else you can do."
Brittany responds while moving her hips forcefully downwards and gripping Santana's wrist and holding it firmly to essentially ride the girls hand and letting out a low moan.
She can feel her legs weaken as her own panties start to stick to her while she tries to clench her thighs to relieve...something, yet, in vain.
She needs to feel more so she grabs onto Brittany's bicep that's still leaning on the wall and uses that leverage to slightly pull her hand free from that dripping pussy which elicits a definite whine from the blonde before adding another two fingers and picking up her pace from before.
Needing and wanting more, she moves her hand from her bicep and moves it under Brittany's shirt and glides it up her abs and roughly pulls down the fabric of the bra she finds before palming the mound of flesh it releases.
Feeling the girl's nipple harden between her fingers while effectively fucking her with her other hand, Santana moans and the sensations and closes her eyes while realizing she's more turned on that she can remember without even being touched herself.
Smirking at the moan that fell from the brunette's lips, Brittany moves forward to run her tongue up the shell of the girl's ear while whispering lowly, "That feel good, baby? Fucking me against the wall and soaking yourself in the process?"
She squeezes her eyes shut and finds herself nodding slowly before burying her face into the doctor's shoulder and lightly biting down eliciting another moan and an particularly hard thrust of the girl's hips down onto her hand.
Wanting to fuck this girl into tomorrow, Santana drops her hand from underneath her shirt and wraps it around her waist to brace herself and finger fuck her pussy harder than before while moving her thumb up to the girls dripping clit and rubbing circles around it like she's done to herself on countless occasions, both awake and within her dreams, although mostly the latter these days.
"Oh, fuck, that's it. You're really good at this, Santana," she husks into her ear.
Licking her way up the blonde's neck and telling her how wet it makes he while she fucks her like this seems to cause the walls to clench slightly around her fingers and feels just exquisitely delicious and she wants more of it.
Before she can fully have her way with the blonde and fuck her into oblivion, Brittany reaches down and slows her hand and sets a slightly slower pace while leaning back and saying, "Okay, okay, slow down just a bit so I don't..." she trails off. Licking her lips and looking downwards mischievously she breathes out, "Spread your legs."
Instinctively widening her stance, Santana keeps her eyes trained on blue while a pale arm slides along her stomach and teases under the top edge of her tiny shorts.
"Let's test my hypothesis and see if you're wet for me, baby."
Gulping and leaning her head back against the wall, she closes her eyes as she feels those long fingers skirt under the top edge of her shorts and slide down easily straight between her own folds.
"Mmm," an appreciate moan escapes the blonde's lips as she brings her fingers suddenly up towards her face and then places one on Santana's full bottom lip and slides it into her mouth where the girl eagerly wraps her tongue her digits and laps the wetness off from them.
"You're wetter than I expected. Geez, you're practically soaking through your shorts with how much you want this. You want more?"
Still sucking on her fingers, she moans and nods her head as the blonde chuckles and smirks while she removes her hand and resumes her explorations in the girl's shorts and wastes no time in finding her own entrance and slipping two fingers inside.
With her own tight wet heat already clenching around the doctor's fingers, she knows she won't last very long in this game and does her best to speed up her own ministrations inside the blonde.
Matching her thrust for thrust, the blonde's forearm muscles flex with each pump into her dripping pussy. As things become more heated, she suddenly rips Santana's shirt down her shoulder, exposing one of her breasts and roughly palms it in her hand while exclaiming, "My, these are glorious tits,"
With that, she leans down to suck on her neck while rolling the nipple between her fingers. Moaning loudly enough to make the blonde look up at her and grin, she leans, once again, back against the wall as she is fucked by the girl in front of her and while she tries to keep doing the same in return.
Lightly nipping on her neck and running her tongue over the hot flesh, Brittany begins to push herself forward into the brunette as close as possibly and pinning their arms between them with just enough room for their own thrusts into each other.
After pressing her thumb a bit harder than before on the blonde's throbbing clit and feeling her walls clench around her fingers in return, Santana continues that pattern until she feels the blonde's fingers inside of her still as the opposite seems to happen around her own fingers buried deep inside the other girl.
She feels the rhythmic clenching that seems to almost try and put a vice grip on her fingers and try to pull them deeper and deeper inside the blonde as she rides out her orgasm. Burying her head into Santana's neck she bites down during the height of her orgasm, sure to leave a remanent of their encounter.
Getting the girl off and making her cum first only serves to heighten the pleasure she's feeling from her own dripping wet core. While the blonde's still in an almost slumped state against her, satiated and glowing, she can't wait any longer and begins to grind herself down onto the the fingers that are still buried inside of her, yet, stock still.
This seems to somewhat spark the blonde to life, if only barely, as she very weakly starts to curl her fingers that are knuckle deep in the brunette. Instinctively reaching down to rub her clit herself along with the slight curling from the blonde, this send her over the edge to her own release.
"Jesusfuckohmyfuck," she cries out with her head leaning back in the the wall as she feels her own walls delightfully pulsate and clench around those amazing digits inside of her.
Both girls breathing heavily leaning onto each other for support in their post-orgasmic state, the blonde begins to say, "San, that was ju—"
When she's abruptly cut off by the brunette, "Shut the fuck up," she says while looking into the doctor's eyes and nodding slightly. "Just keep fucking me until I tell you to stop."
Feeling the tell-tale sign of her pleasure not subsiding after the last of the pulsations, she knows she can ride out another orgasm if she only has the will to do so.
With a gleam in her eye and a smile on her face, the blonde sees to understand this as well and starts thrusting agin with vigor while using her other hand to hold the brunette's throat firmly and securely while keep her gazed fixed on those dark hooded eyes.
Holding the blonde's wrist to help get the right angles and pressure to get to her destination as quickly as possible, she also grinds her own hips down in the exact right motion to get that familiar tingling sensation of her oncoming release, again, not even two minutes after the last mind-blowing one.
With a strangled cry, she cums all over the blonde's hand this time with her juices literally dripping down onto her forearm leaving a wet trail and, in a way, leaving her own remanent. Her own gloriously sticky remanent that she can't help but fight the urge to happily lap up from her arm as a small thank you for this night.
She does, however, stop herself, if only to give her enough time to appreciate the blonde standing before her. Sure, she's noticed that she was attractive upon first glance, who wouldn't? In this post orgasmic state though, she's positively breathtaking.
Jesus Christ, when did she become such a fucking sap, she thinks to herself.
Withdrawing her own hand she goes to wipe them on the back of her own shorts when that magical hand reaches out and grabs her own to bring it up to Brittany's parted lips and return the favor of sucking on her own digits while that equally magical tongue runs over them at the same time small giggles are coming from that same amazing mouth.
"Taste good?" she tentatively asks the blonde.
"Hmm, a little more courageous I see. I guess two orgasms will do that to a girl."
Blushing, Santana replies, "Shut up, " and also erupts into a fit of giggles.
Jesus Christ, since when does she giggle, she also thinks to herself.
"Best home visit ever," the blonde almost cheers while looking into those now glowing and slightly less hooded dark eyes from before.
"So this is the first time you've done...stopped by a client's house?"
She sees that broad grin appear on the blonde's face for about the millionth time that day.
She knows what's coming next, no pun intended, even before the blonde begins to speak.
"It's time to wake up, honey."
And with that, Santana is awake and more frustrated than ever. Not to mention she now has another thing to add to her list of "issues" to work on, that is, if she can even face her therapist again.
About the Author
She's mysterious as fuck.