He's lost in dreams of Santana; legs splayed open invitingly, Cheerio skirt pooled around her waist, spanks lost somewhere amongst the mess on his bedroom floor. The images, however, vanish when his cell phone starts to ring. He doesn't bother looking at the number before barking an irritated what across the line.
"If you need to get back to spanking the monkey I could always call Matt, or Mike...or Brittany."
Her voice is like an instant dose of Viagra and she goes straight for his Achilles heel, "Brittany, huh?"
Her laugh is flirtatious, if not a little condescending. "Keep dreaming. I've told you, there's no way in hell I'm sharing her with you."
"No? And yet you have no problem sharing the details with me, like when you told me about the hot tub in Aspen or the dressing room at the mall. I think you get off on being a tease."
"I'm not a tease."
"Babe, you're the definition of a tease."
She sighs on her end of the line. "You're not winning any brownie points here, Puck. You should be flattering me, not insulting me."
It's his turn to laugh and it matches her with equal parts flirtation and condescension. "Who said being a tease is a bad thing? I wouldn't want you any other way."
"Really?" she asks. "Not even naked between your sheets?"
He smirks and closes his eyes, conjuring up the images from his dream. "Well when you put it that way…"
"Want to know what I'm wearing?"
He nods even though she can't see him and slips his free hand beneath the waist band of his boxers; it's one of the advantages phone sex has over sexting.
She continues without waiting for his answer. "A white tank top and a pair of white, cotton panties."
"Are you wet?" he asks, stroking himself to the sound of her breathing.
"Soaking," she replies.
He groans into the phone and pictures her sprawled out on her bed, the white cotton a stark contrast to her tan skin. "Are you thinking about her?" He presses, picturing the smirk that's undoubtedly dimpling Santana's cheeks.
"Are you?" she shoots back, with a small laugh that sends shivers through him.
"Yeah," he answers. "I'm picturing her between your legs, tracing the line of your panties with the tip of her tongue."
"You're a perv," she chuckles, but he can hear her breath catch and knows her fingers are hard at work.
"Does it feel good when she goes down on you? Do you like her warm breath against your cunt?"
"Mhm…" Santana mumbles into the phone, "...feels good."
"And what does she do next?"
"Takes them off, eats me out," she replies her voice coming in short, jerky gasps.
"Does she find your clit, take it between her teeth, and suck it hard like I do?"
"Mhm…oh, God," she replies and then the blonde's name tumbles from her lips in an exuberant cry that sends Puck over the edge. She's not far behind him and for a second he wonders if maybe he was the only one having to imagine the whole thing.