Quinn locked her bedroom's door as soon as she got inside. The whole drive back home was a torture to her. The images of she had just seen, thoughts, feelings, it was all mixed up on her head. She'd never hated Rachel or Finn more than in that moment. She'd never hated herself more than in that moment.
Quinn could relive all of that crazy choreography as if it was happening right in front again for a second, third, forth time. She didn't know what was happening to her but she was scared. There were things happening to her body that she had never felt before. Things that she had never expected to happen. She had needs that she never had before, and didn't know how to act.
The girl crawled to her bed, faced the ceiling and sighed, trying to forget everything. What she saw, what she was feeling, but it was impossible. She began to run her fingertips over her body, over her cheerios uniform, trying to find some relief. It worked, but still wasn't enough. She knew what she had to do and she felt disgusting. That wasn't her body, she wasn't Quinn Fabray. The blonde never felt the urge to touch herself like that. Not before she saw that performance.
She cursed Rachel inside of her head. "Girls want sex as much of guys do". That was a lie for her until that very moment. Quinn was desperate and it was all Berry's fault. Not that Rachel herself made her feel like that. God no! But it was her idea. She knew it was, after that speech on the Celibacy club. Her idea to use that hideous song, or to wear that ridiculously short skirt. Her hand moved south after that thought.
'Stop it!' Quinn thought to herself one last time. She wanted to stop whatever she was doing and go to bed, like every night, but she couldn't. "Push it" was still very vivid on her head and before she could noticed her left hand was over her own breast. The worst part it was that it felt good. So damn good. Quinn dared to give her breast a light squeeze as her other hand moved to under her skirt.
Quinn Fabray had given up for the first time in her life. It's not like she would be the only teenager in the world to ever mas…. to do that. With a sigh, the cheerleader removed her hands from her skirt and breast to take her necklace, resting it on the nightstand. It didn't take long for Quinn to be almost completely naked. Her uniform was on the ground, the lights were off, and her parents were out on a dinner. That would actually happen.
She was now wearing just her underwear when she climbed on the bed again. She knew what she had to do -Santana and Brittany had told her enough about it- but she was still nervous. She moved her hand back to her breasts; she enjoyed that. Quinn felt like he could spend days massaging herself like this. It felt good. Perfect, even. It felt a lot better, though, once her bra was on the gone. Her fingers wandered over her nipples -they were hard- and she couldn't help but moan. A soft, genuine, moan. Quinn licked her lips, and proceeded to play with her breasts.
What she was doing to herself -even if it was wrong- felt amazing, but she needed more. Her eyes were shut when her right hand moved south one more day, except this time she wasn't wearing a skirt, or spankies. She was wearing just her panties and it was wet. She knew that was supposed to happen but it was weird. The feeling of disgust returned to her, but whenever she tried to stop, all she could think about was the Glee club thrusting into each other. Finn and Rachel couldn't leave her head.
Quinn took a deep breath and slipped her hand under her panties. She knew that once she passed that barrier, she would go all the way. And she did. Quinn touched something that made her moan again, only this time the moan was louder, sexier. She looked for the same spot and touched it again, pressuring it a little. She was in heaven for a few seconds. Her own work on her breasts increased it's speed.
Her left hand only left her breast to helped her right one to remove her panties. Once she was completely naked, her hands rushed to the place they were seconds before. She continued to rub her clit, harder every second, and pinch her nipples from time to time.
Her eyes were still closed, and she continued to think about New Directions' performance. One person in particular continued to "steal the scene". Rachel Berry on that freaking skirt, crawling on the ground, thrusting her hips against her body, dancing and singing like she owned the place. And as long as that performance lasted, she did own it. And that was so… hot. Quinn cursed herself, without stopping her movements. She knew it was wrong; not only touching herself but thinking about a girl. About Rachel Berry. But every time Quinn tried to think of something else, her mind wandered back to the diva.
Her thoughts were no longer tied to the performance, but the brunette was still very present. But now she was crawling on Quinn's bed, thrusting her hips against her, wearing much less than a skirt. The blonde's fingers left her clit to move through her slit. She wanted that fingers to be Rachel's. She wished it was the diva's fingers playing with her breasts, and not her own. She needed the fingers, that were now teasing her entrance, to be Rachel's.
In Quinn's mind, it was Rachel who slowly pushed a finger inside of her, as bit her lips. The finger was moving slow, so she could get used to it, but it was enough to make the cheerleader whimper louder than ever. Her speed increased as she continue to think of Rachel. Rachel kissing, biting her neck. Rachel's tongue on hers, on her nipples. Rachel's fingers inside of her.
Quinn was panting heavily as she moved her thumb back to her clit and she continued to thrust her finger in and out of herself. She was completely involved by her actions. Nothing mattered anymore. Quinn just wanted to make herself feel as good as she did at that moment. It was when the blonde curled her finger, hitting her g-spot a couple of times, and reached the edge, letting out Rachel's name as she did it.
Quinn's pants were all that could be heard on the room. She took a moment to analyze what she had just done. She had just touched herself. She had just touched herself thinking of Rachel Berry. She felt sick, crazy, she didn't know what to think or say, or how to act.
She couldn't be. She couldn't possibly be gay. No. She was Quinn Fabray. The Head Cheerio Quinn Fabray. She was perfect, she had a great body, boyfriend, life. She couldn't be that. Only the thought of being someone she didn't want to be -someone that no one wanted her to be- was driving her crazy. She was terrified.
It couldn't be a possibility. It just couldn't. Quinn Fabray would never want to date girls. It.. it was a sin. Her father would kill her. She would kill herself.
Quinn wanted to believe that what just happened meant nothing. Or that she could get over it, but that stupid girl wouldn't leave her head. Her face, her smile, the image of her singing in front of everyone.
She began to cry. She cried because she couldn't understand what happened to her, or what would happen to her. She was scared of herself, scared of her family, scared of God, scared of Rachel. Quinn Fabray was lost.
Tears wouldn't stop falling on her angelic face when she dropped on her knees right next to her bed, still naked, still dirty. Quinn reached for her necklace and put it on again. She was sobbing and couldn't think straight, but she knew what she had to do. Facing the bed, still on her knees, the girl brought her hands together and closed her eyes. She tried to calm down herself and her hold on her pants before she started. "F-forgive me Father…" she continued to cry. "For I have sinned…"