Summary: Fill for the GKM. "Santana feels Brittany shudder against her and smiles. Brittany is always excited and eager when she comes off the track; the vibrations from her dirtbike stimulate her to almost unbearable levels- an added bonus to attending Brittany's motocross races." Brittana. Dirtbike!sex. SMUTTT. Durr. SUMOSMU #6 OH SNAP
Warning: Yo by now ya'll should know that there is so much sex in these stories. So uh. Yeah. Ummm. The usual. Oral, minor, minor rimming, fingering, some casual dirty talk. The yooj.
A/N: Well, hello all my people, and happy Wanky Wednesday to you! I wasn't sure if I was going to write a one-shot this week after what happened this weekend, but then I figured, we could all use a distraction, right? Right. So here's a distraction.
**I will say, though, that if you're feeling sad and need someone to vent to, my tumblr box and my FFN PM box are always open. Talk to someone about your feelings. It's important that you get them out and have a support group to help you cope, if you're feeling really upset and/or bothered by what happened. You're not alone!
For those of you just tuning in from home, welcome! 8)~ And do be sure to follow the SUMOSMU tag on tumblr if you need more smut in your life. We (me + fellow authors) have some fun stuff coming up for you guys in the future. SUMMER OF SMUT will run until September, so there's still plenty of prompts left to be filled like dirty sluts. (WOAH. RUDE. XD)
This story is randomly dedicated to my faithful and enthusiastic reader, LaurenH91! Congratulations! LOL! Your passion for the SUMMER OF SMUT is very much appreciated by all parties involved! :D Keep on keepin' on, honey!
And also, to my dear crammit, who was horrified by this prompt for reasons I will leave nameless until the end of the story. 8)~
Happy Wanking!
Santana can't help the huge grin on her face as she watches Brittany's dirtbike rumble to a stop just past the finish line with a flourish of kicked up mud and dust. She's been screaming herself hoarse for the past hour, cheering her girlfriend on just like she does at every motocross competition her girlfriend races in. Today's race wasn't exactly a competition- just a qualification round for the upcoming regional race- but regardless, Brittany had done extremely well, as usual, and Santana didn't hesitate to show her support.
When Brittany smoothly dismounts the machine and drops the kickstand in one fluid motion, Santana feels her heart fluttering with adoration, especially when Brittany's helmet-clad head turns in her direction to find her in the stands- which she does immediately. Almost shyly, Santana throws her arm up and waves, her bright smile overtaking her face, her dimples showing, and Brittany waves back briefly before tilting her head, indicating for Santana to meet her in the pit.
Santana leaves her position near the front of the crowd and makes her way around to the pit, flashing her pit pass- a bright green bracelet- to the posted guard. When she spies Brittany, parked near her rented garage, her heart gives an involuntary leap- especially when Brittany tugs off her helmet and shakes out her long, blonde hair. Brittany looks up as she approaches, and Santana doesn't miss the way her blue eyes light up, the same way they do every time when she sees Santana's outfit.
Santana's wearing a fitted white and teal jersey to match Brittany's, the name Pierce blazoned across the back, with huge block numbers stamped on both sides. Her short, dark denim shorts compliment the deep hue of the teal in the jersey, and with her matching sneakers and casual ponytail, she looks like a professional fangirl. Brittany smiles widely, her eyes darkening as she traces them over Santana's form, taking in the huge 17 on her front to match the one decaled on her bike. Her heart pounds with adoration and she reaches up to stroke a lock of Santana's loose bangs behind her ear before she's cupping Santana's jaw and pulling her into a rough kiss.
Santana moans in her mouth, pressing close and breathing in the smell of her girlfriend, fresh off the track; she smells like dirt and sweat and Brittany, but Santana loves the combination. Brittany's arms slide down to her waist and despite the slightly public area, her hands cup Santana's denim-clad ass, pulling her in tight to her body. Santana moans again at Brittany's forcefulness and doesn't hesitate to slide arms around the blonde's neck, pushing up against her and letting their bodies fit together. They kiss heatedly for long moments; Santana teases Brittany's lips with her tongue, but doesn't deepen the kiss, and Brittany groans in frustration, pulling Santana's hips harder against her own.
When Santana tugs mischievously on the hair at the back of Brittany's head, Brittany breaks the kiss, panting. "San," she whines. "Don't tease me. You know how I get-" her words trail off into a sharp gasp as Santana nips at her jaw, then sucks there. "San..."
Santana giggles like a dope before reaching up to plant another wet kiss to Brittany's jaw. "Britt," she returns playfully, running her nose along the edge of Brittany's chin and inhaling her scent. Brittany licks her lips and another soft groan rumbles up from her chest as Santana darts her tongue out along her jaw. Santana hums at the taste of Brittany's skin, combined with the slight saltiness of her sweat. She traces her tongue up to her ear before she nibbles on the lobe, tugging briefly and letting her hot breath tickle over it while Brittany pants and squirms against her.
"Santana," Brittany pleads again, her voice husky with arousal, and the sound of it sends a hard throb straight between Santana's legs. Brittany turns her head to kiss her, and Santana meets her halfway, this time opening her mouth and letting her tongue rub against Brittany's.
Santana feels Brittany shudder against her- she knows her girlfriend is almost painfully turned on. Brittany is always excited and eager when she comes off the track; the vibrations from the dirtbike between her legs stimulate her to almost unbearable levels of arousal. It's an added bonus to attending Brittany's motocross races- afterwards, she gets to attend to Brittany's carnal needs. She smirks as Brittany rocks her hips, keeping a firm grip on her ass with both hands, desperate for friction as Santana sucks on her lower lip.
A much louder moan tears its way from Brittany's throat and Santana decides they've given enough of a free show to Brittany's competitors.
"BrittBritt," she purrs against her girlfriend's lips, "why don't we put your bike away?"
Brittany nods fervently, her blue eyes dark, her pupils wide with desire. She licks her lips again and reluctantly pulls away after placing one last, lingering peck against Santana's mouth, and then, quickly, she's scrambling to unlock her rental garage.
Santana watches in amusement as Brittany lifts the garage door, kicks the stand of the dirtbike up, and pushes the bike into the small, dimly-lit room. She follows Brittany inside, met with the smell of gas and oil and old metal, and bites her lip as she watches Brittany park her dirtbike.
When the blonde moves to close the garage door behind them, Santana makes her move. She presses up against Brittany's back and leans up, attacking her neck and sucking at the base of it. Brittany moans again, loudly, reaching out to brace herself against the garage door, which makes a rattling noise when her hand smashes against it. Santana slides hands around to her girlfriend's front and slips them under her motocross shirt, teasing her fingers up Brittany's taught stomach and tracing the defining lines of her abs.
Brittany trembles against her, especially when she sinks teeth into her neck, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise, claiming her. She still tastes salt on Brittany's skin and the flavor sends jolts of excitement pulsing through her body. She can already feel heat between her legs, her stomach fluttering and tightening with desire. She craves the taste of Brittany's skin.
"I want you," Santana mumbles into Brittany's neck, daring her touch beneath Brittany's shirt higher and listening to Brittany's loud, answering moan. She cups Brittany's breasts through her tight sports bra, squeezing them roughly and seeking out her quickly-hardening nipples. She tugs on them through the fabric and Brittany continues to respond verbally, her body shaking.
"I'm so wet already," Brittany pants, reaching down and behind her to grab at Santana's thigh and struggling to pull her closer. She grinds back into her and listens to Santana's breath hitch near her ear, the sound making her pulse throb between her legs. She's already aching inside. She needs Santana so much-
"You always are after a race," Santana breathes, though she sounds a lot less put-together, quickly becoming a slave to her own arousal. Roughly, she turns Brittany from the garage door and kisses her, sucking on her tongue and biting her lower lip brutally. Her hands don't halt their rough groping of Brittany's breasts, and Brittany has shifted their hips to straddle her thigh, searching for friction. Santana doesn't give her any as she carefully backs Brittany up against the dirtbike; instead she continues to tease Brittany's tongue with her own, to tug at her nipples, and finally, when Brittany's breathless and on the verge of begging, she slides warm palms down her stomach and reaches for her pants.
Brittany gasps for air as Santana unhooks her pants swiftly and unzips them, then pushes them off her hips. Santana pauses, taking in the hot sight of Brittany standing in black boxer-briefs (she claimed they were more comfortable to ride in) and slides her hands beneath them to cup Brittany's bare ass briefly, squeezing. Brittany moans and her hips buck forward in response, and Santana grins before she attacks Brittany's lips again. She pushes the briefs down Brittany's creamy thighs, but doesn't bother to get them past her knees- she's too eager, and before she can stop herself, she's cupping Brittany firmly.
Brittany cries out wantonly when Santana's fingers make the barest contact with her sensitive sex, and she watches Santana's face, her expression telling her what she already knows- she's soaked.
Santana moans as she lets her fingers trace along Brittany's outer lips, finding her already dripping with desire. Her inner thighs are coated with her arousal, and her clit is hard and throbbing against her fingertips. She delves her fingers in deeper, overwhelmed with the sticky mess between Brittany's legs and the slick smoothness of her. She licks her lips and breathes in; she can smell Brittany's arousal, and the strong scent makes her stomach coil tighter, her pulse pound harder.
"Jesus, Brittany," she breathes against Brittany's lips, exploring Brittany's folds teasingly and loving the way Brittany's hips jerk forward every time she brushes against her clit.
"I told you- ugh, fuck, San- yeah-" Brittany tilts her head back slightly, panting and trembling, hips thrusting tightly as Santana circles her clit with her finger, smearing her arousal over the hard nub. Shakily, Brittany reaches back to steady herself on her dirtbike, careful not to lean too much of her weight on it. Santana starts up a slow, stroking rhythm, just barely dipping her fingers into her drenched entrance before sliding through her wetness and circling around her clit. Brittany bites her lip but it doesn't stifle her loud moans, especially when Santana angles her head to suck on her pulse point.
After a few more moments of teasing, Santana pulls her hand away, but before Brittany can protest, she grabs her hips and turns her. A gentle hand on her back guides Brittany to bend over her dirtbike, and Brittany's clit throbs hard from excitement at the hot position as she leans over, gripping her bike tightly while Santana finishes tugging her boxer-briefs down her legs.
Dropping to her knees on the slightly dirty cement floor of the garage, Santana takes a moment to admire the view, and runs her hands up Brittany's smooth, bare legs. She palms Brittany's ass before shifting to trace fingers across her inner thighs, which are smeared with Brittany's wetness. Santana licks her lips with anticipation. She can feel Brittany trembling, can feel the tension in her body brought on by her desperation, but she can't help leaning forward and pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the backs of Brittany's thighs. Her girlfriend whimpers loudly in response, and the sound drives her a little crazy, eggs her on. She kisses up over Brittany's ass, then bites at it gently, dragging her teeth across the firm flesh as Brittany's hips jerk in response and Brittany moans her name. She slides her tongue out, teases her salty skin, sucks at it, and Brittany mumbles loudly but incoherently from her position hovering over her bike.
Santana's kisses move to Brittany's inner thighs, and she swipes her tongue across the smooth skin, tasting some of Brittany's essence. "Spread your legs for me, baby," she breathes, and the heat from it makes Brittany gasp and shiver and follow her directions readily. Once her legs are parted further, Santana pauses and inhales the almost overpoweringly strong scent of Brittany's arousal. She breathes in, letting the potent scent intoxicate her, and then she grips Brittany's hips and tentatively licks through her folds, feeling her girlfriend clench against her tongue.
She takes her time, exploring and driving Brittany crazy with want. She swirls her tongue around Brittany's entrance, stabbing at it with the tip of her tongue and making Brittany tense hard. She loves how responsive Brittany is, how sensitive she is, how turned on she is. Brittany's still seeping wetness onto her tongue, and Santana sucks and licks, burying herself in the smooth slickness. Her chin and mouth are covered in Brittany's arousal, and she loves the strong taste of Brittany that coats her tongue, that spills down her throat as she swallows everything Brittany has to offer her. Brittany's clit pulses in her mouth when she suckles on it, when she flicks her tongue against it, and she's completely and totally surrounded by Brittany's pleasure. She can hear Brittany's loud, whimpering cries from above her, and they only make her own arousal punch through her body in response.
"I love when you're like this, B," she mumbles into Brittany's slick folds, tightening her grip on Brittany's hips as the blonde bucks with increasingly less control. Brittany's only response is a pleading, desperate cry of her name, and Santana smiles, dipping her tongue into Brittany's spasm-ing entrance.
Brittany's only been high a few times, but right now, she feels like she's floating, even without drugs. Her ears are still ringing from the loudness of her bike, and the way Santana's tongue slithers and strokes between her legs is like the best form of torture. She can feel her orgasm building, but not nearly fast enough to sate the uncomfortable tightening in her stomach. No matter how she pleads, though, she knows Santana won't let her climb any faster- and she kind of loves her for it. She rests her head on the seat of her bike and looks down, watching as Santana's tongue flicks out to curl around her clit. The sight sends more electric jolts through her body and she thrusts her hips, rubbing the hard nub against Santana's tongue and feeling the smooth, velvety texture of it drag across her most sensitive area. Just as Brittany feels her orgasm building a little faster, Santana abandons her clit and instead plunges her tongue into Brittany's entrance, and Brittany aches inside, wanting Santana to fill her.
Santana continues to lick upwards, and just barely teases along the tight ring of muscle behind Brittany's entrance. It tastes like the rest of her- covered in Brittany's arousal- and she loves the way it tenses beneath her tongue as she circles around it fleetingly before swiping across it. She licks back down to Brittany's entrance, finding it even wetter, and moans, knowing the vibrations will tease Brittany even further.
"Please- god, please- put it inside me, San- fuck- yeah, ohh- no, baby, please-"
An endless string of breathless curses and prayers tumble from Brittany's parted lips as Santana continues to drive her insane. When Brittany's words devolve into a jumble of loud cries each time her tongue rubs over her clit, Santana decides to take pity on her.
Sort of.
She presses her tongue against Brittany's entrance and pushes it in a little. She can't go far- Brittany's too tight, and let's be real, her tongue's reach is, at most, an inch and a half long- but the pressure makes Brittany grip the bike tighter.
"Deeper," the blonde gasps, shaking violently. "Please, San, I need you deeper-"
Santana hums in response and reaches her left hand back to slide fingers into Brittany's tight, dripping heat. She pumps them in and out slowly, keeping them straight, prolonging Brittany's torture, and twists beneath her to continue to lap gently at Brittany's clit. She alternates licking her clit and teasing her ass, and Brittany's vocabulary evolves back into filthy words.
"Yeah, lick me, baby- oh, fuck- yess, Santana, god- right there, San, right- ugh-"
Santana can feel Brittany getting closer. She's practically thrashing, her hips are rutting against her, and she pulls her fingers out, needing both hands to keep Brittany steady. She moves to suck on Brittany's clit and stays there, keeping the pressure constant. Brittany's voice grows louder and higher, and she sucks harder, knowing Brittany's on the edge. When she squeezes Brittany's clit between her teeth gently, Brittany comes with a loud shout, and her hips roll hard against Santana's mouth, her thighs trembling. Santana loves the way Brittany's clit throbs hard against her tongue, and after long moments, she releases it and shifts, climbing to her feet.
Without warning, she drives her fingers back into Brittany, pressing her hips against the back of her hand. She's acutely aware of how turned on she is, but she's not concentrated on getting herself off- she just felt Brittany come in her mouth, and now she wants to watch Brittany come on her fingers, which have bottomed out inside her. Brittany's still in her aftershocks, and Santana can feel her squeezing around her fingers. The feeling sends another jolt of arousal straight to her core, and, okay, maybe she should concentrate on getting herself off.
She pumps into Brittany slowly, deeply, keeping her fingers straight. She plunges in hard, using her hips to help drive her movements, and Brittany's back arches in pleasure. Brittany turns her head so that her cheek is pressed against the seat of her bike, and the sight of her flushed cheeks, her eyes screwed shut in pleasure, her parted lips, has Santana picking up her pace, grinding her own hips against the back of her hand.
Using her right hand, she pushes Brittany's shirt up, exposing her pale back, and she leans down and presses kisses up her spine, loving the way Brittany's muscles tense and quiver beneath her lips, loving the smooth warmth of her skin. She keeps her fingers buried inside Brittany and instead plays with her. She seeks out her sensitive spot and strokes it, then spreads her fingers, shivering at how tight Brittany squeezes them in response.
"You fuck me so good," Brittany half-moans, half-pants, her words partially muffled against the seat of her bike. "I love it when you're inside me like this."
"Mm, B, you're so sexy," Santana responds, breathing over Brittany's lower back and the taut muscle there. She presses an open-mouthed kiss to the base of her spine, then swipes her tongue over the spot. "All I could think about while you were riding that bike is how I wished you were riding me instead."
Brittany clenches hard around her fingers, and Santana gasps, groaning into Brittany's skin. She can tell Brittany's close again, so she straightens up and returns to driving in and out. "Are you ready, B? You ready to come for me?" she pants, rutting hard.
"Please- Santana, please-"
"Fuck- you're so hot when you beg, Brittany."
Santana pounds into her, curling her fingers to reach Brittany's spot, and Brittany hugs onto her bike for dear life, crying out each time Santana hits it. It's not long before Brittany's coming again, especially when Santana's other hand strokes her clit. Her body jerks violently, and Santana feels the gush of liquid on her hand that accompanies Brittany's orgasm. She continues to drive into her, feeling so close to her own orgasm, and when she feels Brittany's insides hugging her fingers rhythmically, strangling them in a tight grip, it sends her over the edge and she comes against her own hand, grinding her hips roughly.
After long moments, the pulsing around Santana's fingers subsides, and she slowly slides them out, hearing Brittany's groan at the loss. She stares down at her hand, which is still slick, and bites her lip. They're both a complete mess. The best thing to do would be to go home and take a shower-
Santana bends to press a kiss to Brittany's exposed back before she reaches up, her fingers still wet, to tug her shirt back down. "Let's go home," Santana purrs, resting her head between Brittany's shoulder blades while Brittany, still bent over her dirtbike, struggles to steady her breathing. "You can take care of that machine later."
"Okay," Brittany says, voice rough. "I think I've been on this dirtbike enough for today."
Well, that was. Um. Well.
SO! Fun fact~ my darling crammit insisted, like with every fiber of her little sweetheart being, that the bike would fall over in the middle of sexing and kill the mood. I almost actually wrote that happening into the story just to prove that it WOULDN'T kill the mood- because puh-leeeze, Brittana- but considering that, at least in the context of the story, this wasn't Brittana's first time having sex against the dirtbike, I figured they probably worked past those issues. SO THERE. :P
BUT.
A WORD FROM ~OFFICER SAFETY:
I WILL say that if YOU try to have sex against a dirtbike in a garage, you will probably knock it over. And die. Or kill the bike. And then wish you were dead. Probably not a good idea.
Also, you should always wash your hands before you engage in any kind of sexual act with your fingers. Spontaneous sex in a dirty-ass garage may SOUND really hot and appealing-
Until you get a yeast infection and a UTI, and you're oozing disgusting shit out of your lady bits. Just read fanfiction. Or, if you must be spontaneous, carry around some of that "no-wash" handsoap and also hand sanitizer. Because, ugh. Gross. No one wants grime up in their twat.
Okay, well, I'm sure some people might have a fetish for that, BUT STILL.
DON'T DO IT!
And that's all I have to say about that!
PLAY SAFE AND STAY SAFE! :D
***title of story from the Bush song of the same name, ofc