Disclaimer: I do not make any gain from this Glee stuff, neither do I own it.
A/N: The wedding of Mr Will Schuester and Ms Emma Pilsbury. It was never going to be a smooth ride, was it?
"You could just tell this was going to happen, couldn't you?" Artie whispered to Puck.
Puck glanced at Artie, confusion and puzzlement on his face. "What?" he asked incredulously. "You tipped Sue Sylvester tripping down the aisle in a wedding gown to tell Mr Shue that Ms Pilsbury's skipped town?" he shook his head in disbelief. "Shit dude, you're good. Think you can pick me some lottery numbers?" Puck asked.
Artie rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Well, ok, not this exact scenario," he admitted, "but you could just tell something was going to go wrong," he insisted.
"Dude," Puck scoffed, "this is Lima, Ohio, nothing ever goes the way it should," he said, just a touch of sadness in his voice to match the hint of it in his eyes. Puck looked around, fidgeting with his collar and tie, feeling uncomfortable at once again being conned into sitting in a church. "I fucking hate these places," he whispered in Artie's direction.
"I really don't think that's appropriate language to use in a house of God," Quinn murmured primly, leaning back in her pew towards him though not actually turning round. "And a little sympathy for Mr Schue wouldn't go amiss either," she hissed.
Puck pulled a face mimicking her silently, rolling his eyes. Quinn turned and glared. "Sorry," Puck apologised a little belatedly, his cheeks colouring just a touch.
"I should think so," Quinn rebuked, scowling at him.
When the announcement came that the reception was going ahead regardless, Puck let out a sigh of relief.
"Not a total bust then," he grinned at Artie. "Ready to get smashed?" he asked.
"I'm underage and so are you," Artie reminded Puck, glancing round uncomfortably, hoping someone would come and rescue him before Puck produced multiple fake IDs. "I'm cool, Puck," he insisted, "I don't need a drink. Remember Rachel's party?" he asked, nodding, wincing.
"That was like, forever ago," Puck laughed, rolling his eyes in disgust. "Come on, live a little," he encouraged.
"I'd rather not," Artie refused. "It took months to get the vomit out of the spokes," he added reluctantly, indicating his wheels.
"Whatever dude," Puck sighed, eyeing up the females on parade. "Your loss," he said, walking away to find a willing one who might lose herself enough in alcohol to give him some sort of pleasure.
Quinn and Santana stood by the bar using their own fakes to get drinks. They talked with each other, more than they had for years. The last time they'd been this honest with each other was probably before the baby drama unfolded in their sophomore year. Santana had never trusted Quinn since, she'd always fed her a pack of lies, given her the biggest bunch of bullshit and laughed on the inside when Quinn ate it up as truth. If she were being totally honest right now, Santana would tell Quinn that she was still jealous of her. As much as Santana loved the ladies, there was still one guy who could make her blood flame and her panties drop with just a wink. What he did to her insides when he licked his lips was completely beyond description. And Santana knew that Quinn felt the same, despite every protest that had ever emerged from Quinn's pretty, perfect, pouting lips. And she knew that Quinn was watching every move that he made, watching his ass, watching him grind against yet another panting female.
"Just admit it Q," Santana slurred, her glass waving about in her drunken hand. "You'd do him right now, in full view of the whole choir and Reverend Simons, if he clicked his fingers," she finished, swallowing hard struggling to keep the drink down.
Quinn sighed, feeling herself fill with emotion. "You're right," she admitted. "I would, I always would. He's the only one. Ever. The professor thing was a lie, just because he was listening," she said, a single tear trickling down her cheek. "I miss him so much," she whispered, watching Puck as he danced like the idiot he was. "But he didn't want me," she pouted. "He didn't want me because I gave away his daughter. When I asked him to make another baby with me, he laughed at me and left. He hates me. I love him and he hates me," she finished on a broken whisper.
"What do you say we get out of here?" Santana said, hiccupping slightly, her head hung a little, her eyelids fighting to stay open. "I've got a room upstairs, let's go have a little girl on girl fun," she encouraged. "Show you what it's all about," she added, enticingly.
"Sure," Quinn nodded, her inhibitions lost somewhere around her fifth or sixth glass of wine. "Why not? You can't knock what you've never tried, right?" she asked, following Santana to the elevator.
Puck watched the two hottest girls leaving together. "Quinn," he sighed silently to himself. "What the fuck are you doing?" he asked in his head. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. "Santana, I fucking love you," Puck said aloud as he read the message. He left the girl he'd been dancing with without a backward glance, he had no idea of her name anyway, no idea who she was, she was just a warm body. Puck re-read the text as he left the room, heading for the elevator.
The door slid open on the fifth floor, Puck saw Santana waiting impatiently in front of him. "Don't say I never do anything for you Fuckerman," she growled. "She's sloppy drunk and as ready for you as she's ever going to get," she added, stepping nimbly into the elevator, all signs of being drunk had disappeared the second that Quinn had fallen face first onto the bed. Santana had stripped off her clothes for her and left, texting Puck as she closed the door behind her.
Puck took the key card that Santana held out to him. He felt the tingling in his pants. Oh yeah. Quinn. Stripped naked, ready to be thoroughly fucked.
Quinn grinned as the door opened quietly, her face hidden in the pillow. She felt a draught pass over her naked body and shivered just a little, more with anticipation than cold. She heard the tentative footsteps coming her way. "Hurry up," Quinn thought to herself, shifting just slightly as though in sleep, her legs parting just a little touch more. She heard an appreciative groan. She took a chance and shifted just a little more, lifting one knee higher, giving the person at the end of the bed a birds eye view of her shaven, glistening…."Uh," she sucked in a breath as she felt a thick finger slip inside her. "Ah," she sighed as another joined it. Quinn purred as she felt the two fingers move, she moved herself, her hips undulating.
Quinn moaned in pleasure as she felt hot lips touch the back of her neck, felt the stroke of a tongue trace it's way to the shell of her ear. She kept up the pretence of sleep, allowing her ass to rise and fall, giving the fingers more room to fuck her harder. "I can't believe I never did this before," she moaned, her own hand burrowing underneath her stomach, finding her own pleasure button. "This is so much better than flying solo," she breathed. "What about your tongue?" she asked, her eyes still closed. "I've never had a girl kiss me there," she whimpered.
"Sorry sweet cheeks," Puck replied, his voice husky with need. "It's not going to be a girl this time either," he informed Quinn, rolling her over. "You're really shit at playing drunk, you know," he grinned. "It's a good job you're not an actress," he added, bending to suck her nipple into his mouth, his fingers back inside her, pressing further and further in, his thumb pushing against her clit.
Quinn shivered and sucked in a breath, her hands finding Puck's cheeks, guiding his mouth to her own, their tongues tangling. "When did you come up with this plan?" she asked, breathing into his mouth.
"I didn't," Puck denied. "You did," he added, confused.
"Santana told me to play drunk. She said you'd told her you wanted to fuck me again but only when I was stupid drunk so I wouldn't remember it," Quinn said with a frown.
"I never said that to her," Puck replied. "Get the feeling we've been played?" he asked, his mouthing closing in on hers, their lips joining together, their tongues twisting together.
"So?" Quinn sighed, her hand stroking down his hard body, finding his zipper and tugging on it. "What do we do now?" she asked, her fingers grasping his quivering erection.
"Keep doing that and you'll soon find out," Puck growled, pushing away from her to rip his own clothes off.
Quinn watched with her lip between her teeth, a huge smile on her face and dancing, laughing eyes as Puck's clothes fell to the floor. She sucked in a breath at the sight of his naked body, when she saw how ready he was for her. "May I?" she asked politely, kneeling up and leaning towards his hot, tight flesh, her tongue poking out to lap at the tip, stroking away the first drips of clear fluid seeping from him.
"Be my guest," Puck managed to answer, just as politely as her lips closed round him. "Oh God," he breathed, his head flung back on his shoulders. "I never thought I'd ever see you sucking my cock," he groaned. "Ungh," he moaned, looking back down at her, her delicate fingers wrapped around his girth, feeding his cock into her mouth, sliding more and more of him inside with every stroke. "You never did this for me beforrrrre," he groaned, almost losing it as he watched her look up at him through her lashes. "Enough," he sighed, pulling away from her. "I can't take anymore, I don't want to come just yet," he told her.
Quinn fell back on the bed, her hands pushing her breasts together, tweaking her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers. Quinn sucked in a deep breath, the sensation just too much for her. She pressed her legs tight together. Puck thrust his hand between her thighs, delving deep inside her again.
"I have to get another taste of you, of your sweet little pussy," he whispered to her. "It's been a long time since I've tasted you," he reminded her.
Puck lay down on the bed and crawled between her thighs, spreading them wide. He bent and pressed his nose against her, sniffing as he stroked up, his tongue taking over. "Mmmm," he moaned, his eyes drifting shut in pleasure.
Quinn could not help the shiver that shot through her, her breath left her body. Quinn's hands grasped the sheet underneath her, her fingers tightening as her body tightened, being caught up in sensation. "Oh God," she breathed, "oh God," she repeated. "No more," she begged, "please, no more," he pleaded, trying to push him away before her body exploded into a million pieces. "Fuck me, Puckerman," she growled, staring into his eyes as he came over the top of her. "Fuck me like you've never fucked me before."
Puck took her mouth, holding his body still despite Quinn thrusting up at him. "Not yet," he whispered against her lips. "How much do you want me?" he asked.
"A lot," Quinn answered.
"Not good enough," Puck replied, pulling back from her, slapping her clit with his cock, sliding it up and down between her slick folds. "How much do you want me?" he demanded.
"More than I've ever wanted you before," Quinn replied, her breath coming in gasps, desperate to feel him filling her, flooding her with his seed.
"Not good enough," he growled. "How much do you want me?" he demanded again, "tell me now or I walk," he threatened.
"More than I've ever wanted anything or anyone in my entire life," Quinn answered, recognising the honesty of her words, even if Puck did not.
"That better be the truth, Quinn," he replied as he sank into her. "'Cos I'm never letting you go again," he promised. "Fuck the professor," he growled
Quinn wrapped her legs around his waist, thrusting herself up in time with Puck thrusting into her, their bodies clashing, crashing together, and slamming together.
Puck rolled over taking Quinn with him. She pushed herself upright, riding him like a pro. Puck's evil fingers tweaked at her nipples, causing Quinn's body to bow. He slid both hands down her ribs and delved between her thighs, his thumbs centring on her clit, pushing, pressing, forcing her to feel more than she ever had before. Quinn screamed, her back bowed until it almost snapped, her head thrown back. She shivered and shuddered as she came down, falling across his chest.
"Not done yet," Puck growled, pushing her over and landing between her thighs again. He licked and sucked every trace of her climax from her body, her thighs damp with his saliva, her folds licked clean, her clit quivering when his hot breath passed over it. "Ready for more?" he asked, his voice husky.
Puck knelt between her thighs and pressed forwards, his rampant cock piercing her flesh. He sank in, balls deep. And stayed there, shifting, flexing, his whole body trembling with the effort it took not to slam himself into her time and time again. Puck began an incredibly slow rocking motion, building the tempo very, very slowly. With one hand he kept himself propped up, off her body, with the other he grasped under her thigh, opening her up to him even more. "Will you tell your mother about this?" he grunted. "Tell her I fucked you with everybody downstairs dancing?" he asked, his tone verging on cruel, nasty.
Quinn couldn't reply properly, just breathed and nodded her head, her 'yes' lost in a whispered hush of breath as it left her mouth when he slammed into her harder.
"What about your professor?" he demanded. "Will you tell him you couldn't wait to get fucked by the first guy to have ever known your pretty little pussy?" he growled. "Don't bother," he sneered when all she could do was nod and lick her lips, "I'll tell him myself," he promised. "I'm coming with you when you go back to college," he informed Quinn and felt her shiver in excitement. "You're not getting away from me again," he vowed.
Quinn tried to pull Puck's head towards hers but he was too strong. He thrust higher and higher into her, his breath coming in gasping pants as he neared the end. Without warning he pulled out of her suddenly, leaning up towards her face as he erupted with a howl, his huge splash of hot Puck juice hitting her in the chest, face, hair. Puck groaned as his body stopped convulsing and he fell to her side, totally out of breath. "No condom," he explained, "already risking it," he added, still trying to get his breathing under control. "Totally forgot," he admitted. "Just you," he sighed, shaking his head, his chest still rising and falling rapidly. "Always you," he said with the hint of a laugh. "What the fuck do you do to me?" he asked. "My dick gets anywhere near your pussy and it goes into stupid mode," he laughed. "Any other pussy and it demands a fucking raincoat to even make an appearance," he rolled his eyes and coughed, clearing his throat.
"Well, can your dick think about a condom next time please?" Quinn requested, wiping streaks of white from her face, looking at her fingers, watching it stretch and break as she opened and closed them. "Getting blasted in the face with your sperm isn't my favourite thing," she admitted. She lifted a finger to her lips, her tongue poking out just a touch, tasting his emission. "Oh," she said in surprise. "I didn't expect it to be as sweet as that," she admitted.
"Cinnamon, lots of fresh fruit, pineapple juice and plenty of water," Puck answered with a smile. "No coffee, no red meat and cut back on the dairy," he explained. "Makes it taste sweeter," he informed Quinn.
"We should get back to the party," Quinn sighed, looking at the clock on the nightstand. "And if Santana's pulled, she might be looking for her room back," she pouted.
"This isn't Santana's room," Puck replied, leaning closer to see the reaction in Quinn's eyes. "This is our room," he told her. "I booked it as soon as I knew you were going to actually come to the wedding," he admitted. "It's booked in both our names," he said, his eyebrow hiked right up, daring her to ask.
"What….what names?" Quinn croaked, her lips dry, her throat barely able to move.
"Why, Mr and Mrs Puckerman of course," Puck replied, "we never did get around to signing those divorce papers, did we?" he grinned as his head blocked out the light one more time.
