"Rachel, we can't, we're going to get-," Rachel cuts her off with a charged kiss, all teeth, lips and tongue and it sets Quinn Fabray's body alight. The already hot pressure between her legs almost burnt her skin as Rachel pushed her back against the wall, lips still connected, wrists bound by Rachel's surprisingly strong grip.
With her hands pinned to the wall, up above her head, she's left to the mercy of her hungry girlfriend that finally drags her lips away from her kiss swollen ones, and trails a burning hot path along her jaw, biting and nipping at the enflamed skin, trailing the length of her tongue across and down to a working throat and neck.
Hazel eyes wide, she pants for breath, tries to steady herself, tries to regain control of the situation. Rachel has her completely owned at this point and she despises it; she loves to be in control, she loves to feed off that control, she loves to see Rachel as the one begging for more, not herself.
"Fuck! You need to stop." She gasps, surprised at herself by how low her voice has suddenly dropped. It's so unbelievably husky and when Rachel groans against her throat and latches on to suck once more, she bites at her lower lip and pleads, "We're going to get caught." But her voice is now only a mere whisper, her hips already working against her girlfriend's tight stomach.
There's a chuckle against her throat, wet from Rachel's saliva, wet from sweat, the red hot heat that surrounds them both is almost stifling, but they can't find themselves to want to stop.
"Then I suppose you'll have to stop yourself from screaming." Rachel's eyes are positively gleaming as she pulls away from Quinn's bobbing throat and flicks the tip of her tongue against Quinn's strong chin. Almost by of its own accord, her head tips back and exposes the pale expanse of her throat, and Rachel just licks her lips.
"I refuse to…to do this here."
"You won't be refusing anything, soon enough."
Quinn's head drops and she narrows her eyes at her mischievous girlfriend, taking her in; there's something so utterly day to day about Rachel today. She looks as if she would any other day, a simple black and white dress, Mary Jane's and socks; she looks the picture of a typical school girl, but beneath that runs the blood of an insatiable teenager that thirsts for Quinn on a daily basis.
"And why do you say that, smart mouth?" She whines when Rachel pins her wrists down harder against the wall, effectively leaning forward to push all her body weight onto Quinn's upper chest. She's trapped, so utterly and completely.
She's gasping for air; it's too fucking hot to be doing this right now and the breeze is doing nothing to calm down the heat that surges through her body. Rachel's body is almost like a furnace; heat radiates off the girl and it's almost sending her into delirium.
"Because of this," And all Rachel does is grind her hips forward, a slow and torturous grind that hits Quinn square between her legs, right from the bottom, to the top, where it lingers on her clit.
And Quinn hisses, arching her back, head tipped back, top of her head resting against the wall, "F-F-Fuck…" She clenches her eyes shut, hands squeezing shut, fisting the air for strength. She should have known; she should have fucking known. "Are you insane?" She whisper hisses, dropping her head back down to stare Rachel dead in the eye.
Her girlfriend's pupils are completely blown, and she can see a lone trail of sweat that drips from her temple and down her cheek. She has the sudden urge to lick it away, and she's almost there, but she forces herself back, shoving her back further against the wall, hoping to fall straight through it in hopes of getting away from her suddenly insatiable girlfriend. They can't do this here.
"Insane for you, maybe." Rachel moans quietly, "Let me fuck you here."
Quinn's breath stutters for a moment, "Can't-," She swallows, eyes wide and afraid as she looks around, "Can't this wait?"
"I want to fuck you here," Rachel pushes forward again, the toy she had attached to herself only a few hours ago pressing so deliciously against Quinn once more. Hazel eyes almost cross and she watches as Quinn's throat works, chest expand, hands clenching and unclenching; she's so close to cracking. Rachel smirks. "Right here, Quinn. Let me fuck you."
"Oh G-God," The blonde shakes her head, "No…later." The emphasis on later isn't lost on Rachel and she holds onto that little promise.
"Fine, later too, but first, right here and now."
"Rachel, you're insane."
"So you've said," Rachel tips up slightly on her toes and bites down on Quinn's lower lip, tugging and sucking it into her mouth, loving that plump lip with her tongue. Quinn openly moans into her mouth and even flicks her own tongue out to flick along her top lip. She's going to crack, she's almost there; time to drive it home. "Quinn," She moans, tone soft and laced with a plea, just the way Quinn likes it, "Let me fuck you here, baby."
Quinn's eyes, not as frantic, pupils blown, look around once more and then pin on her girlfriend, "Let go of my hands and let me hold my dress up."
Rachel chuckles, "Oh no, baby. I don't mean like that."
The blonde's eyes narrow, "What are you talking about-," She sucks in a breath and holds it as Rachel grinds into her, "R-Rachel."
"Grind against me. Get yourself off." It's not a plea, or a question, it's a lust fill demand that Rachel expects to be fulfilled, "C'mon baby…" She goads, tucking her face into Quinn's neck, licking away at the thin sheen of sweat that coats that pale skin, "You loved it last time. Remember?"
She tries to tell herself to stop this; they're in public, out in broad daylight, they're not even that far away from the bustling crowd that stands out on the football field. Anyone could walk by, they could be seen; how would she deal with being caught grinding against her girlfriend's strap on?
But Rachel is grinding against her so slowly, so rhythmically, her hips can't help but find a rhythm against their own, grinding against the hard bulge beneath her girlfriend's dress. It pushes so perfectly against her clit, and although there's four separate layers between them, her body aches and sends pulses straight to her pussy that it feels like they're grinding completely naked.
"Do you remember, Quinn?" The singer whispers against her throat, "Remember the first time?" There's a sharp nip, and instead of shying away from the slight pain, she pushes her neck out, forcing more of her throat against Rachel's working mouth. Her body ignites and she whines, hips still grinding against her girlfriend, passions ignited as her girlfriend reminds her.
"Our fifth date. You figured we'd waited enough, and of course, I wished to be chivalrous and wait until you were ready." Quinn whines and clutches at Rachel's hands, arms beginning to ache from being held up for so long, "But you were ready weren't you? So ready. I'd only just parked the car and you were already on my lap, grinding down, grabbing my hand, moving it between your legs."
The blonde whimpers, dropping her head forward to rest on Rachel's shoulder. She's too fucking hot, she's going to combust, her body aches for Rachel to fuck her and the grinding is only doing so much. She needs to pull her dress up and she opens her mouth to beg and plead if she can, but words allude her; she's so on edge, in the midst of such a perfect circle of pleasure that she doesn't want to stop. If she asks, that means the grinding would stop, and she can't face that right now. She doesn't want to face it. She wants to grind up against the strap on and make herself explode; she wants to feel her legs give way beneath her and she wants to scream her girlfriend's name as she comes, public be damned.
"You rode my hand like a bucking bronco, didn't you? Do you remember? You could barely string two words together without cursing or pleading. I was completely under your control, just sat there, watching you, feeling you dig your nails into your wrist as you held me still." The hot breath against her neck only seems to goad her on along with Rachel's words and her hips find the rhythm they had created all those months ago, grinding, circling, pulling back and repeating. It feels like heaven against her soaked slit and she feels her panties cling and stick to her with each grind. It's so sticky and hot and disgustingly close to perfection that it has her whining, has her begging, has her digging her nails into the palms of her hands.
"You panties were soaked, Quinn. Do you remember which ones you were wearing? I do. I have to laugh at the irony now, but, fuck, you were so dishevelled, fucking your girlfriend's hand in your virginal white cotton panties. But you were far from virginal, weren't you, Quinn?" There's a chuckle against her throat and Quinn almost feels like crying. The pressure between her legs is almost too much to bare and she knows that if she just touched a finger to her clit she'd come, but Rachel isn't meeting her thrusts, she's purposely pulling back as Quinn comes in, and when she tries to switch it up and meet that god forsaken fucking strap on, Rachel changes her rhythm again.
"Rach…" She begs, voice a whisper, skin aflame as the sun beats down upon her. It's too fucking hot. She can't bare it any longer. "M-My dress."
But Rachel's hands remain at her wrists, skin clammy and wet beneath the tight grip, "You just rode my hand, didn't you? In a parked car in the middle of the street, right in front of your house. What would your mother have thought if she'd have looked out of the window and saw her baby girl riding her girlfriend for all she was worth for all the neighbours to see?"
"Oh G-God, please, don't…don't…"
"Would you have kept going if someone had been on the street, Quinn? Were you that delirious from pleasure that you wouldn't have cared and kept going?" Rachel moans and pulls back, finally meeting the thrusts, letting Quinn push and grind down on the bulge in her panties. The insert hits her deliciously and her eyes almost cross at a particularly harsh thrust, but she keeps herself steady and focuses herself on the memory.
"One hand on my wrist, one hand on my shoulder, your eyes shut, you were so close. I remember…I remember all of it. How my car smelt like sweat and sex, how quietly you moaned at the beginning and then how loud you got whenever my fingers brushed against your clit. You soaked my hand, Quinn. I had your smell on my hand all the way home."
Quinn's eyes snap open as she stares at her girlfriend. The girl is sweating, bangs clinging to her forehead, brown hair askew, chest heaving, biceps tense as she continues to pin her down. She's never looked so fucking sexy.
"Oh but when you came," Rachel's eyes shut, teeth biting down on her lower lip, "When you came…" Her eyes open, she leans forward, pinning Quinn's hips to the wall, holding her there, and the blonde almost feels like crying because she can't grind anymore. But that doesn't stop her from trying. She circles her hips, quick little circles, and holy fucking shit, fireworks explode behind her eyes because she can feel everything now. She can feel her girlfriend pressed against her, that strap on that she wishes was inside her holding her cunt hostage, the smell of her girlfriend, pure lust and sex.
Her lips are so close, and she licks her lips, hoping that Rachel will kiss her as she comes, but Rachel just teases. Their lips brush, soft little fleeting touches that she barely feels but send shocks down her spine anyway. Her body is buzzing, mind so adamantly fixed on just reaching an orgasm that she knows will destroy her from the inside out.
But oh, how she wishes to be destroyed.
And then Rachel is whispering, right against her lips, and she can taste her girlfriend, taste the mint of her toothpaste, the strawberry of her lip-gloss, such different and dynamic flavours.
"When you came, you arched your back, tipped your head back, held your breath, and then I felt it." Rachel moans softly against her lips, "Your pussy twitched, just the same as mine does before I come, and I trailed my fingers underneath your panties so I could feel you come. My fingertips barely touched your clit and you were flooding my palm. You screamed out, clutched at me, dug your nails deeper into my wrist and came all over my fucking hand."
Quinn, tears in her eyes, gasps for air, the heat, the urge to come, Rachel's words, all too much on her assaulted mind and body. "Rachel please, oh fuck, please, just let me come. Let me fucking come, oh God, please. I'll do anything. I'll do anything I swear to God, just let me come."
Quinn's hips, moving twice as fast, continue to grind. Unashamed of being out in public, up against the gymnasium wall, her Broadway bound girlfriend pinning her down, she works her hips, works her hips against that bulge inside her girlfriend's panties and fucks her pussy through the layers that separate them. Body on edge, teeth clenched, she feels herself right on the edge, right on the pinnacle that she so desperately wishes to grant to her body, and when Rachel says,
"And when you came all over my hand, I came right along with you, baby."
Her back arches, oddly reminiscent of the lust filled grinding session in Rachel's car all those months ago, and she comes, loud and unabashed. She feels the pressure in her lower stomach, the pressure from the orgasm she had so furiously worked herself toward, finally release and she feels her cunt squeeze and tense against the cock she wishes to have so deep inside her. She twitches and wails and clutches at her girlfriend, when finally, mercifully, Rachel lets her wrists go. She holds her close, clutches and sobs as her orgasm completely destroys her from the inside out, just the way she wished it to.
She feels Rachel's arms wrap around her violently trembling body, hands running up and down her back, calming her down, soothing her. Only when she's regained her breath and the roaring in her ears die down, does she hear her girlfriend's comforting words.
"Good girl." Quinn whines against her girlfriend's neck, heat from the summer afternoon all but forgotten, "Good girl, Quinn."
"Fuck…you." She groans, but cuddling closer. She barely hears the singer giggle, "Fuck you for making me do that. Never again."
The hands on her back stop and Quinn feels her whole body tense, "What makes you think I'm through with you?"
Fuck.
Quinn pulls back, slumping back against the brick wall, legs still unusable; for a second, she's brought back to the aftermath of her accident, but she swallows down the thickness in her throat. She's fine, she's absolutely fine. The only reminders of that damn accident were a few night terrors and the almost violent looking scars to the left side of her torso. She's fine. Rachel's here and she's fine.
"What…do you mean?" She asks, when she's finally found her voice once more.
"Well, I didn't just wear this," She glances down between her legs before looking back up with a coy smirk, "Just for you to grind on, Quinn."
"No…" Quinn shakes her head almost immediately, "I'm not letting you do that, unless we're in the privacy of our bedrooms. Hell no."
"But Quinn…" Rachel whines, pouting, and Quinn looks away. Do not look at that pout; it's far from innocent as Rachel would like to portray; she may be an amazing actress and that will only get better in New York, but the blonde can see straight through her girlfriend's expressions. She can read Rachel like an open book. "I want to be inside you."
The blonde has the good grace to blush. She gulps and when she hears Rachel's giggle, she makes the mistake of looking back at her girlfriend. Rachel has her dress up around her waist, hand already cupping the strap on through her seemingly soaked panties.
"Oh…wow," It's all she can say and her eyes seem fixated on the toy she wants so desperately inside her. She wants Rachel inside her and she can't seem to pull herself away or stop herself as her hand comes out and pushes the tan hand away, replacing it with her own. "Fuck…"
"Want it?" Rachel eyes, eyes lidded as Quinn effectively feels her up.
"I-," And Quinn's looking around again; she can't see around the corner, they're too far down the wall for that. She can't hear anyone nearby, but she knows how quiet people can be sometimes. They may be celebrating graduation only on the football pitch a few yards away, but she can't deal with bowing out of High School with a lifelong memory of being caught with her girlfriend's strap on buried inside her cunt. "We can't. Not here."
"But you already came once, Quinn." And Rachel has that low teasing voice again, "No one came by then, they're too busy celebrating. We can be quick."
"I want to be anything but quick." Hazel eyes, alight with fire turn back to Rachel, "I want you buried inside me for the remainder of the day."
"That can be arranged." Rachel smirks, "But I want to fuck you now. Just one quick fuck, please, baby?" She whines, leaning against her, chest to chest, moving her hand down to cup over the blonde's, "Just one quick fuck and we can get out of here? I'll fuck you till your hearts content at home."
"Fuck, I ca-," She cuts herself off and takes in her girlfriend, takes in the pressure beneath her palm and groans, "Hurry up." She pushes the brunette away, lifts up her dress and holds her panties to the side, "Now."
"Eager." The smirk on Rachel's lips can't seem to melt away and Quinn rolls her eyes, back to the wall, one hand holding her dress up, the other pulling away her soaked panties from her still aching pussy. "I like it."
"Just hurry the hell up, Berry. Someone could come."
"Yeah," Rachel pushes down her panties until they're wrapped around her thighs and she pushes her dress up, letting the hem of it hang over the stiff strap on, "You." She lines herself up, locks eyes with Quinn and groans as she pushes herself in.
"Holy shi-," Quinn chokes, squeezing her eyes shut, feeling that familiar pressure push deep inside of her. The first time they had used it, she had come within only a few minutes; Rachel had used it so perfectly, buried inside her, thumbed her clit, pounding into her with a strong and powerful rhythm. She only hopes she can come as fast today. "Oh God, I've missed you." She whines, pushing her cheek against the rough brick.
"I've missed you too, baby." Rachel grabs her hips, holds her steady and begins to pound, deep and relentless, pounding into that tight cunt that seemingly gets tighter around her with each individual thrust. She wishes she could actually feel what her girlfriend's cunt was doing to the toy, just like she could with her fingers, but looking at Quinn's face and seeing her mouth agape, eyes clenched shut, swear words careening out of her mouth with each pound, she can almost feel what it was like inside her girlfriend. She pictures the hot warmth that she feels around her fingers and fixates herself on it.
Within a few minutes, her nails are digging into her girlfriend's hips, careful of the one scar close by her hip, and pounds that much more harder. The heat is almost unbearable, she feels like fainting, but the urge to make her girlfriend come on school grounds is too much to pass up. This is the last time they'll ever be here, ever be able to do this. She's leaving this God forsaken school with the most popular girl in school on her arm. She'll leave McKinley High in a completely different way than she did first entering. No longer the geek, no longer the girl relentlessly tortured by bullies and slushies, no longer single and alone, she leaves as a trophy winning Glee Club captain, NYADA student and happier than she's ever been with Quinn Fabray by her side.
"Oh God, I can't." Quinn whines, tearing her eyes toward Rachel, "I can't…I need to come, oh fuck, I need to come."
Rachel hushes her, soft and steady, a thumb running over the bumpy ridges of a scar left from Quinn's accident. She begs herself not to cry, begs herself not to blame herself once more over what she still feels is her fault, and focuses. Quinn needs her, just like Quinn needed her all those months ago. She'll give Quinn whatever she wants.
"You need to come baby?"
Quinn whines, working her hips forward to push the strap on deeper inside her cunt, squeezing it for all it's worth, feeling the wetness of her come slosh around that working toy. "Fuck, yes, please. Make me come, Rach. Oh God, make me come harder than I ever have before."
And Rachel's eyes shine, "Anything for you," She replies, voice shaky with uneven breaths, abs burning, legs crying out under the pressure to keep her standing, "Anything for you, Quinn." And she drives that strap on deeper, harder, faster, watching as her girlfriend begins to fall apart before her. Quinn clings to her, nails digging into her shoulders, hands no longer willing to stay away from the girl that brings her so much pleasure.
It jabs away inside her, short and quick thrusts that fill her so completely and she feels the telltale signs of her orgasm beginning to build. Her clit aches to be touched, and before she can even beg for Rachel to put her hands on her, one of the singer's hands is drifting across her hip and down between her legs.
Two fingertips hit her clit and her spine jolts; she's being wrecked so completely and she just holds on as that cock continues to pump deep inside her cunt. Rachel's fingertips work in strong but small circles against her clit, bumping and rubbing, pushing down as Quinn's hips rise up to meet the thrusts of the strap on.
She almost feels as if she's grinding again and the flood of moisture that erupts between her legs has Rachel working easier inside her. She's so close, her body is preparing itself, her cunt is already preparing itself to hold that cock hostage inside her as she comes around it.
"So close," She pants, eyes unfocused, lips dry from panting, from the heat, and a sticky forehead hits her chin as Rachel leans forward, focusing herself, steadying herself to bring her girlfriend home to one of the best orgasms to date. "So fucking close, Rachel!" Her nails dig deeper into the girl's shoulders and she barely hears Rachel hiss with pain.
Together, gasping for air, fighting off the heat of that stifling summer afternoon, they work together, hips clashing in a fierce dance that seems to have no end, muscles tensing against a toy that leaves and enters with such a fast and unsteady rhythm. Quinn clutches, Rachel groans, fighting off her own orgasm, determined to make Quinn come first. But she feels like she can't hold back, her pussy aches and the insert is hitting her so perfectly that she feels like she could shatter at any moment.
But then one of Quinn's hands leaves her shoulder, and she looks up in just enough time to see Quinn bite down on it and muffle her own almost deafening scream as she comes around the strap on. Rachel gasps, shuddering, hips barely working to any rhythm, toy barely moving inside her girlfriend as Quinn clenches onto it for all it's worth.
And she comes; a white hot heat rushes through her body and settles right between her legs, surrounding her clit, making that ache that had been growing since they sat side by side at graduation amongst the other members of Glee Club, finally explode inside her.
She cries out, almost in tears at sheer relief of the ache that finally escapes her. Quinn shakes against her, her own orgasm finally dissipating, as she wraps her arms around the still coming singer.
"Fuck, baby…" Rachel hears whispered as she gasps for breath. "Wow…" Then a chuckle and such a delight works its way through her body, she chuckles too, collapsed against her girlfriend.
"Wow, indeed." But then she tenses as she hears footsteps close by and pulls away, careful to pull out of her girlfriend without hurting her. They adjusts themselves accordingly, and Quinn has just put the finishing touches to her short locks when Puck and Santana walk by.
"What the hell are you two doing here?" Santana asks, eyebrow raised. Puck is just leering, a smirk prominent on his face. He knows what went down; his Jew babe finally accomplished her plan. Hot damn.
"Unfinished business," Rachel replies, voice unbelievably steady. Quinn's almost shocked at how steady it is. "What are you two doing?"
"Goin' for a smoke," Puck butts in when Santana opens her mouth to reply. He puts her arm around the ex-Cheerio's shoulder and grins, "You want one, Quinn?"
Rachel stares at her girlfriend and that answers that question.
"Quinn does not smoke anymore. And may I remind you, Noah, that smoking is extremely dangerous to your health, yours too, Santana. You're no longer under the clutches of being a cool teenager, so you can put a stop to that right this instant."
Quinn chuckles beside her.
"Jesus, Q. You sure you wanna be stuck with that?" Santana quips, whipping her hair over her shoulder as she turns and walks away, already pulling a cigarette out of her graduation gown.
"Well ladies, I don't know what went on here, but it would have been a lot hotter if I was a part of it." He winks and turns, running to catch up with his friend.
Quinn rolls her eyes and leans down, grabbing the graduation gown that she had ripped off in the haste to get some form of cool breeze to her body. Rachel does the same, carefully draping hers on her arm.
"So…why were you so adamant we had sex here? You really couldn't wait till we were home?"
Rachel giggles, taking the hand that Quinn offers. They start in a small walk, away from the football field and toward their parked cars.
"What's so funny…?"
Rachel leans up and quickly pecks Quinn's still glowing cheek, "I thought it would be a suitable goodbye and thank you to the school that brought us together."
And Quinn just smiles, dotting a kiss to her girlfriend's forehead.