She never thought there would come a time when Rachel would get tired of watching Broadway musicals.
It's surprising, to say the least. Despite her theater double major, Quinn tires of them much more rapidly; musicals are still not her very favorite genre of drama, though she definitely has a strong appreciation. But about a year and a half into their relationship, there came the day when Rachel, while re-watching a recording of a scene in a noteworthy performance The Lion King for the thirtieth time in order to analyze it, fell backwards against the couch and groaned out, "I am so sick of Broadway right now."
There had followed a long silence, aside from the video continuing to play beyond the scene Rachel was meant to be studying, until Quinn had promptly pulled her girlfriend up by her hips, pushed everything off the coffee table, yanked Rachel's sweatpants off, and sank to her knees to slide her tongue inside without preamble. And despite the fact that Rachel had not been even remotely aroused before that point, Quinn diligently licked and kissed and touched for almost a half an hour until Rachel's body powered through its exhaustion to rock her with an explosive orgasm. Afterwards, Rachel had admitted she considered stopping Quinn, but was glad she hadn't because it had been one of the most intense sexual experiences of her life (though for months afterwards, she had blushed whenever she heard "He Lives In You," which, admittedly, wasn't the best song to coincidentally be playing when Quinn finally got her off).
And since that point, Quinn has made it her goal to distract Rachel whenever she gets frustrated with the biggest passion in her life, with her chosen career.
Quinn thinks the idea spawned from a psychology class. Positive reinforcement. Maybe if she can get Rachel to associate all aspects of Broadway with pleasure, even the most irritating studying aspects, she'll stay happy. Because seeing Rachel happy is often just as much Quinn's goal in life as her own career path.
She senses this particular Saturday might be one of those days in which Rachel needs a distraction when they're on the couch together, in comfortable clothes, in Rachel's apartment; Quinn is attempting to work on her literature thesis while Rachel huffs and sighs and obsessively studies a recording of the off-Broadway show she has a secondary role in. They're nearing three years together, and while Quinn still isn't entirely sure what she's going to do once she finishes with academia, Rachel's career has already begun taking off. She's still finishing off her NYADA program, but in the meantime, she's had parts in a few off-Broadway shows. This one, however, is full of extra stress because there are rumors of talks and interest in taking the show fully to Broadway. So Rachel's obsessive scrutiny is in full-force with this recording. It's when Quinn notices that she's rewinding the same ten seconds of choreography to ascertain whether she or her male counterpart barely messed up the steps that Quinn decides Rachel is going to need a break.
So she stands up and stretches, "I think I need a nap. Wake me up in a half an hour or so?" she asks.
"Sure, baby," Rachel nods distractedly. Quinn bends over to kiss her temple, which makes Rachel's lips quirk slightly, but she's so engrossed that she just vaguely pats Quinn's arm as she pulls away.
Quinn doesn't nap. Instead, she plots a rapid plan for how to take care of Rachel this time. It doesn't take her very long to decide what she wants (while she reclines on Rachel's bed, touching herself lightly as she entertains different possibilities), and she extracts the strap-on from its hiding place. It's double-ended, with a bulb end for her, but luckily Quinn is wet enough from weighing her options for fucking Rachel that she slides it in without much effort. Like every time, though, she can't help but remember the first time they used it together.
Rachel lifted her mouth from Quinn, running a hand absently over her lips and smiling, "Baby, I think you're plenty wet," she purred in approval, "and as much as I don't want to stop eating you, I don't want things to end before we give this a try." She held up the toy with a smile.
Quinn agreed; it was her idea to buy it, after all, but the thought of actually going through with it? Well…there were concerns. Stupid ones, she thought, but there all the same. "Okay. Yeah." Quinn sat up, then knelt, spreading her legs. Rachel knelt before her, holding the strap-on, and Quinn took her wrist, guiding it to her pussy. "Put it in," she requested shakily.
Rachel searched her face. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah. Do it." Quinn ordered.
"Wait," Rachel said, "Let me get this wet, too," she smirked, and slid the bulb end of the toy into her mouth, removing it only to curl her tongue around it.
Quinn watched hungrily for several long moments before growling, "Rachel. Put it in me right now so I can fuck you."
Rachel bit her lip—completely erotically Quinn thought, how unfair—before guiding it back to Quinn's entrance. She circled the insert around a few times, gathering more moisture, before pushing it in…or trying to.
Quinn and Rachel both stared down at Quinn's pussy with identical baffled expressions before Rachel murmured, "Quinn? Just relax. Because I really, really want you to fuck me with this."
Quinn inhaled sharply, "God, me too," she murmured, taking Rachel's wrist and pressing more and this time…the bulb slid in. Quinn could feel her head tip back and a little moan escape her throat because…God when was the last time she had something this thick go inside her or come out of her? It had just been fingers for…years. She leaned forward, holding on to Rachel and just feeling it…the sensation of enjoying being filled and the sudden power she felt at now being able to fuck Rachel properly.
And by the expression on Rachel's face…well. "God, Quinn," she murmured, "You look so beautiful. Your face, when I put it in you."
Even though it's easier this time, and has gotten easier because she's more relaxed about the whole thing, there's always that moment where Quinn's eyes roll back as the insert settles into place inside her. That hasn't changed. And after inserting it, she ends up lying on her back in Rachel's bed, feeling her thighs tremble with want and running cool fingertips lightly over her breasts under her shirt. She can only lie there for a little more than five minutes before she decides she can't wait any longer, and opens Rachel's bedroom door softly.
Enough near-misses with Rachel's roommates on weekends Quinn visited had occurred (although, Quinn and Rachel weren't the couples who had been interrupted by the unexpected arrival of roommates; they just tended to be the ones who were in the common areas of the apartment when it happened) that they had a system in place with open communication about who would be in the apartment and when. So Quinn has little fear when she strides across the floor to approach the back of Rachel's couch.
She's not even sure Rachel has noticed her yet, and she discovers just how right she is when she bends at the waist to put her chin near the side of Rachel's head and murmurs, "Hey, baby."
Rachel jumps. It's subdued, because her years of theatrical training have taught her to stifle even that involuntary reaction, but Quinn notices. "Hey," she answers, somewhat guardedly, glancing to her side in acknowledgment. Quinn smirks. Rachel needs to be seduced. She can do that.
A hand moves to gently gather Rachel's hair and move it over onto one shoulder, exposing the enticing skin of her neck. Quinn leans over the back of the couch, somewhat awkwardly, to trail her lips from Rachel's jaw to collar, while her hands smooth down Rachel's upper arms in slow strokes.
Rachel's breath hitches immediately, and a soft whine of "Quinn," escapes her throat, half-protest, half-desire. Quinn flicks her tongue out to trace the stripe of collarbone she can reach. She'll stop, if Rachel truly demands it, but she certainly isn't demanding it yet.
Her arms rise to wrap around Rachel's chest as her lips and tongue track their way back up to Rachel's earlobe, where her teeth snag and tug. Rachel gasps, and Quinn can feel her arching a bit. "I think you need a break," she husks into her ear.
"Quinnnnn," Rachel moans again, more deeply this time, and Quinn slides both hands into the scoop-necked collar of Rachel's t-shirt. As she suspected on this casual afternoon of homework, no bra, and she hums her approval as her hands cup Rachel's perfect breasts—God, she'll never get over how perfect they feel in her hands, the way they…she smirks, as her gentle squeezing elicits the typical reaction, and she can feel Rachel's nipples grow hard.
"Rachel," she murmurs, an edge of command in her voice as she suckles and bites at her neck—and she's sure she's got Rachel now, because a less aroused Rachel would be warning her not to leave marks. She withdraws one hand and reaches down to tease at the waistband of Rachel's sweatpants. She watches as Rachel's legs spread in response. "Rachel?" she says again, with slightly more edge to her voice.
"Y-yes, Quinn?" Rachel asks.
"Don't you think you need a break?" Quinn murmurs against her neck, smirking.
"I…I don't know, Quinn, I really have a lot to do before tonight," Rachel mumbles distractedly, but by now, Quinn knows it's just a ruse. Sometimes, Rachel likes to make Quinn work for it. Quinn is always happy to do so.
"Really?" Quinn asks, raising her head enough to whisper in Rachel's ear, "So you're telling me, if I were to touch you right now, you wouldn't be soaking for me?"
Rachel tries—and fails—to choke back her moan. Quinn pulls away completely in triumph, smirking more as Rachel twists her neck around to look at her, baffled.
"Prove it," Quinn orders as she circles around the front of the couch.
"Prove…?" Rachel starts, licking at her dry lips.
Quinn leans over the coffee table so that her eyes are level with Rachel's. "Prove to me you're not soaking wet. Touch yourself, Rachel."
Rachel's head tips back against the back of the couch and she whimpers "Fuck," as a shaky hand slowly complies with Quinn's command and slides into her sweatpants. Quinn can see the hand moving, and presses her lips together to stifle her moan as she hears Rachel whimper, watches the way her hips pick up in rhythm a bit.
"That's enough," Quinn orders, but her voice is shaky. She leans even further over the table. "Show me your fingers."
Rachel, with wide eyes, pulls her hand out and holds it up. Quinn can see her fingertips glistening and she swallows reflexively as reaches out, grasping Rachel's wrist to pull the hand to her.
She can hear Rachel moaning another "Fuck," as she engulfs her fingers, sliding her tongue all along and between them, sucking them one by one, cleaning them thoroughly. God, Rachel's so wet already. Maybe she half expected Quinn to do this and her body was already primed in response. Or maybe Quinn just has that strong an effect on her.
"God, you taste so good," Quinn groans as she releases Rachel's hand. She meets Rachel's eye, "Want to know how wet I am?" Rachel's mouth drops open a bit and she nods, vigorously. "Good," Quinn says briskly, "Meet me in the kitchen." And she walks again, leaving a baffled Rachel again craning her neck as Quinn unexpectedly moves away.
As Quinn expects, though, it's only moments until Rachel is in the kitchen with her, fire in her eyes, "Honestly, Quinn, what are you trying to—" she begins what looks to be a brewing diva rant. Quinn puts a halt to it by grabbing Rachel's waist, twisting her so that she's facing the dining room table, her hips pressing lightly into it, and pressing her hips against Rachel's ass. "Oh, my god," Rachel moans at this, and Quinn smirks.
Rachel noticed the strap-on.
It's why they needed to be in the kitchen. Quinn had considered just pushing their things off the coffee table and fucking Rachel on that (like she's done before, multiple times), but…she wants something different, and the height of the coffee table won't work for what she wants.
Because she just wants to fuck Rachel, hard and rough.
And she can't help thinking again of their first time.
She guided Rachel onto her back, parting her legs gently, running her fingers all along them as she did so. Her breath hitched. Every time, there was something about the way those long legs would part to reveal beautiful, wet, pink flesh that just drove Quinn wild. She leaned over Rachel, kissing her softly, soundly, while her fingers teased. "Think you're ready for me?" she asked with a smirk, fairly certain of the answer with the wetness all over her fingers.
"Yes," Rachel breathed, pressing her hand to Quinn's cheek lovingly, "Please, baby."
Quinn had hesitated for a brief moment, sudden doubts obscuring the haze of her arousal. What if this wasn't actually about Quinn and their feelings at all? And had something to do with Rachel wanting a real cock? She pushed them away—stupid, insecure thoughts, she knew this rationally, and…oh my God.
Quinn moaned out loud at the sensation of Rachel grasping the strap-on and tugging gently as she spread some lube over it and fuck that felt good. She looked down to find Rachel smirking, "Feel good?"
"Yeah," Quinn breathed.
"Imagine how good it will feel inside me," Rachel murmured.
"Oh my God," Quinn moaned again, and positioned herself, awkwardly, so that the tip of the toy pressed subtly at Rachel's entrance. A moment of eye contact and, with the help of her hand, Quinn began to guide it slowly inside.
Quinn wraps her arm around Rachel's waist, keeping her from moving while she grinds herself against Rachel's ass, feeling herself clench around the insert with each circling of her hips. Rachel makes frustrated groans and turns her head, and Quinn captures her mouth in a kiss that is mostly teeth and tongue. Her free hand slides up Rachel's shirt to tweak at her hard nipples. Rachel gasps and pulls her mouth away, her head tipping back against Quinn's shoulder, before fiercely kissing her again. Rachel's hands furiously scrabble, trying to take control of the situation; one ends up on Quinn's hip and ass, the other ends up tangled in Quinn's hair.
After a particularly rough bite to Quinn's upper lip, Quinn groans softly and disengages her lips. A hand presses between Rachel's shoulder blades, guiding her down steadily, but not with so much force that she'll hurt herself. Rachel whines slightly, but then complies, and Quinn smirks at the sight of Rachel, face down on the dining room table (her roommate's centerpiece bowl pushed roughly aside as Rachel lowered herself), palms flat against the surface like she's going to push herself back up, Quinn's hand in the center of her back.
"You'd better not move," Quinn growls warningly as she removes the hand, "Because you know I can get the handcuffs and make you not move." Rachel whines slightly, then folds in her hands in front of her face, to resist the temptation to stand back up, Quinn supposes. Quinn shucks off her sweats and glances down at herself, at the length of silicone protruding. She steps forward, grabs Rachel's sweatpants, and begins to tug them and Rachel's panties down her legs. Rachel tries to help, nearly kicking Quinn in the face in the process (Quinn can forgive, her toes are only barely touching the floor, bent over as she is), and Quinn runs her hands up the backs of Rachel's legs, reverent as always when faced with their long, lean, delicious reality. She grabs Rachel's ass and hips and jerks her a few inches until she's a bit closer to the edge of the table and pushes her thighs apart. Rachel can stand a bit better on her own with her hips not quite on the surface, but she's still face-down on the table, and Quinn ensures she stays this way with a firm hand on the dip in her lower back.
"God, Quinn," Rachel groans, turning her face to look at Quinn with one eye, "I wish I could touch you."
Quinn just smirks, knowing that now that she can't, Rachel wants to touch her even more. "No. You're gonna let me take care of you," she grunts, gripping Rachel's hip with one hand, and, with her other hand, guides the strap-on into place and slides inside with a thrust.
Quinn watched every expression pass over Rachel's face as she'd slowly slid the toy inside—so slowly, because Rachel…was a small girl. She watched the way her eyes widened, then closed, then her brows drew down briefly like she was in pain, then rose high on her forehead, then her eyes opened again as her mouth dropped and her head tipped back as Quinn finished sliding the full length inside and stopped.
"Oh," Rachel murmured, "Fuck, this…this is…"
Quinn was torn, between loving the expressions on Rachel's face and the way she was left speechless, and the fact that it had taken a fake cock to get her to that point. Not that Quinn hadn't left Rachel completely speechless before. But this time, it was just…
She began to slide out slowly, feeling her own breath catch at the way it pulled at the insert just right for her, watching as Rachel sighed in pleasure and her brow relaxed, and then pushing back in, and seeing Rachel's jaw drop again.
After a few more repetitions, Rachel lifted her legs to wrap them around Quinn's hips and cupped Quinn's face with her hands, bringing her mouth down for a kiss. "I'd forgotten how much I enjoy penetration," Rachel murmured, kissing her again, "But I love it so much more because it's you giving it to me right now. It just feels…God, it feels good," Rachel groaned.
Quinn smiled a little tremulously, some of her fears vanishing a little, and her competitive side kicked in. God damn, if Rachel enjoyed penetration, more penetration than Quinn's fingers had been able to provide thus far, Quinn was going to make sure this was penetration Rachel would never forget.
She began to pick up the pace of her thrusts, gasping as she felt the pressure inside every time she pulled out, and drinking in the way Rachel's eyes rolled back and she moaned as Quinn moved faster. She felt Rachel's legs wrap tighter around her and she buried her face in Rachel's neck, biting, as she pumped her hips.
Quinn hears the note of pain in Rachel's moan as she pushes inside, and mentally winces a little. Rachel's wet, absolutely soaked, sure, but dry silicone doesn't always slide in easily, especially in one thrust. Quinn waits a moment, just a moment, to give Rachel a chance to protest, before beginning to fuck at a steady pace, hard and deep. She can see Rachel's profile, see the way her mouth is hanging open, her eyes screwed shut, and Quinn licks her lips, leaning forward to grasp Rachel's hair and turn her face toward the table so she's resting on her forehead. Not because she doesn't want see her—God, Rachel during sex is gorgeous—but because she knows it will drive Rachel even crazier if she can't see Quinn, let alone touch Quinn (one of Rachel's desperate hands finally settles for planting itself on top of the one holding Rachel's head down, gripping tightly). Not to mention, it's just one more way Quinn can control her, and that always makes Rachel wetter.
And as she continues to pound, at a pace that will absolutely make Rachel sore, relishing the way she can feel herself gripping the insert as it moves with her, Quinn senses that she could be close. That all she would need to do to finish would be to touch her clit a little.
Quinn's pace increased, but it still wasn't very fast. Steady and long strokes and just…she wasn't expecting it to be so…God the way it felt each time Rachel's tightness gripped the toy and pulled and pressed at her inside it just…and the way Rachel's breathing would catch, and the way she held on to Quinn. Quinn felt powerful. Quinn felt unexpectedly connected to Rachel by that Goddamn piece of plastic.
And then, Rachel abruptly turned her head to whimper in Quinn's ear, "Your face, you look so sexy, Quinn, like you can feel yourself inside me," and licked the shell of her ear, and something had pulled exactly the right way and…
Quinn came. A small orgasm, not particularly intense, but she stilled, and stopped breathing for a few moments, and Rachel definitely noticed.
"Did you…?" she asked in wonder.
Quinn felt herself flushing and tried to just pick back up where she left off because…God, she did not just…she didn't get off from penetration. "Don't worry about it," she mumbled, "Let me take care of you."
Rachel's entire body shuddered, "Oh, fuck," she breathed, "You did. Oh, that just…" and descended into speechlessness as their bodies continued to rock together. Quinn stared in shock at her reaction.
Instead of touching herself, Quinn smirks and growls, "I could come right now if I wanted, because, God, Rachel, you know what fucking you does to me. Drives. Me. Crazy," she emphasizes with firm thrusts, "What would you do if I just came and pulled out and left you there?" Rachel gasps and moans simultaneously, and her legs kick wildly backward, trying to loop themselves securely around Quinn's waist. Quinn chuckles, "But I won't do that. You're coming first, and you're coming hard."
They moved together, breathing the same air, watching each other's faces, and in a way, Quinn got it. This was making love. Even if it looked like what Rachel could do with a man, even if it was just a length of plastic, they were making love, just like they always did. And Rachel sighed out, "I need…Quinn, I need."
And Quinn did not want to pause her rhythm for anything, "Touch yourself," she'd breathed reverently, "Let me watch you."
She felt Rachel's hand slide between their bodies and move, felt knuckles on her abs and there is touching and Rachel's eyes closed and her brows drew down even tighter and…
She notices the telltale signs. The quiver of Rachel's thighs. The increasing pitch of her moans. The way she gasps for breath between moans. The way she's tightening even more around the toy, making it difficult for Quinn to keep her focus, because, God. Quinn tugs her hand away from Rachel's hair and hand and then grabs Rachel's hips, hoisting her up just slightly. Rachel emits a piercing moan at the slight change in angle and struggles to right herself for a moment, her head tipping back on one side, and Quinn orders, "Touch yourself, Rachel." She watches as a hand moves under Rachel's body and smirks, because, Lord, there's no way this is comfortable for Rachel, but she does so love for Quinn to take control and put her at Quinn's mercy. And her face…that eye she can see is scrunching even further shut.
Rachel's eyebrows smoothed out. Her jaw opened further. Then her back arched and her hips bucked and her long moan erupted as her body continued and shudder and shake. Quinn, in complete wonder, stopped moving entirely and just watched.
And Rachel jolts, her hips grinding down into her hand, her legs knocking uncontrollably around Quinn. Quinn matches her pace, thrusting with each roll of Rachel's hips, and each time there's a new moan, a new clench of Quinn's muscles around the insert.
And when Rachel finally settled back, she opened her eyes, brought a hand up to cup the back of Quinn's neck, and kissed her. "Thank you," she murmured.
As Rachel stills, Quinn finally pulls out, and both shudder at the action. Quinn rubs her back, and lifts her up, turning her around and holding her, hands settling on her lower back, watching her face. Rachel's eyes are closed and when she opens them, she smiles slowly and sinks into Quinn, wrapping her arms around her. "Thank you," she murmurs into Quinn's neck, kissing her way lazily to Quinn's mouth, "You always know just what I need."
"That's love," Quinn smirks.
Rachel chuckles and hums her approval, then glances down to where the wet strap-on is pressing into her hip. "Oh, hello," she speaks to it, then raises her eyes back to Quinn, "I think it's your turn, baby. Wanna take this" she dips her voice exaggeratedly "loooovemaking to the bedroom?" she waggles her eyebrows.
Quinn snorts, "Oh, definitely, if you think you can even walk there right now," she smacks Rachel's ass to coax her to go ahead so she can relish Rachel's awkward stride.
And she smiles. And hums, "Can You Feel the Love Tonight," all the way to the bedroom.
A/N: Title from Guys and Dolls, "I'll Know."