Prompt: go to the GKM's livejournal and paste this at the end: ?thread=46004666

Author's Note: A lot of people were asking me to do a g!p Santana story. G!P San is a bit harder because San is a very sentimental type of person, she doesn't understand technicalities the way Brit does. Brit is always easier to write g!p for since she works pretty much under the pleasure principle, if it feels good do it, social convention doesn't matter to her as much as it does with Santana.

Which explains why this first oneshot is 6K long because I wanted to go a little bit deeper into San's denial with Brittany and her unwillingness and blindness to Brit's approaches.

Also. If you're looking for g!p Britt theres my other story Always. :)

Enjoy!

Prologue

Roz Washington was furious to return to McKinley and see a new face in it's gym after Spring Break. Sylvester had gotten herself pregnant and it was about time that wrinkly overblown skinbag left for maternity leave. She had thought that this would be the time to prove herself to Figgins that she was much more capable and worthy than Sylvester. Obviously not since there's a new face surrounded by a hoard of high school girls.

When the stranger meets Roz's eyes, she doesn't look away. She gazes back fiercely with determination and confidence, a small smile playing at her lips.

She looks like a younger, latina version of Sue Sylvester.

Roz fakes a smile and turns over to find the balls for water polo next period.

Chapter 1

"Before we begin," Santana starts after meeting Roz Washington's gaze. "I'd like for you all to know something."

The group of cheerleaders eagerly smile up at her, probably happy to be away from Sue Sylvester's reign of evil.

(She's heard the stories.)

"I'm a bit different." She gestures at her tracksuit pants, "My lower anatomy isn't that of a woman's."

The silence stills and Santana can feel the eyes on her, bearing into her but she's done this before. Most of the eyes are confused, some slightly amazed laced with genuine curiosity, some scared, some a mixture of all these emotions. None of them look revolted and that makes Santana sigh with relief.

"I'll be working in the Coach Sylvester's office and the only time I'll go into the locker rooms is much after you all leave to make sure everything is cleaned up." The scared eyes looking up at her clear, "If I happen to need to come into the locker rooms for any reason, I'll announce it before hand. Are we clear?"

There's a murmur of "yes" and "uh-huh".

It's going to take a while for the girls to get used to the fact that their teacher has a penis but it's not entirely uncommon and Santana has long learned that once they get used to that fact, there's really no difference in the way her students treat her.

"Lets hit the field and start some warm up stretches now," commands a voice from the back of the group. They part a little and Santana can see a tall blonde with bright blue eyes standing with her arms confidently at her side, "Lets get started and show Coach Lopez what we can do," she announces.

"You must be the captain." Santana says walking next to the blonde as they all make their ways through the double doors outside. "I'm sorry we couldn't have met earlier."

"I'm Brittany," the blonde stops walking, turning to raise up a hand at Santana. "Brittany Pierce, senior and yes, captain of the Cheerios."

Santana takes her hand, shaking it gently, eyes still not leaving Brittany's. This was a stare-down, with Brittany looming over her, a test of will and show of strength to see who would really rule the Cheerios. To Santana's surprise, Brittany smiles wider and averts her eyes.

"I want you to know that I'm completely okay with you having a penis." Brittany blurts, "I won't avoid or harass you or anything."

Taken aback by the forwardness Santana nods and tries not to swallow her tongue.

"We're all just human right?" Brittany asks rhetorically, shrugging. "That's all that matters...to me."

Santana doesn't have time to ask why the blonde had added that part in the end because she's already dashing away towards her team of cheerleaders. Faintly, she can hear the girls begin a series of warm up counts but she's too focused on Brittany's subtle jog and the way those long legs moves forward and back connected to a very nice ass.

(Later Santana scolds herself for losing her professionalism on the first day but that thought is cut midway when she sees the cheer captain reach and do a toe touch, black spanks on full display.)

Santana develops a day to day routine easily, she wakes up at six, gets ready and is at school six thirty. Brittany shows up just five minutes after to run over the morning and afternoon schedule with her and by 6:45, all the Cheerios are present and sleepily ready for practice.

She's thankful that the new girls picked by Sylvester before she left aren't a rowdy bunch and the veteran members know better than to misbehave. The only resistance she's gotten was from a girl named Lena, who demanded that their shouldn't have to run their usual five miles for Saturday practice.

Santana just stared at her, telling the girl that was what Sue Sylvester wanted. When she hadn't stopped complaining about the girls already being conditioned enough, Santana pointed at the door.

"You can quit right now." Santana says in her best mature tone, bitchiness doesn't work on girls whose breathed it all through high school, "Take off the uniform and get out of my face or you can stop complaining because I'm not deviating from the required amount."

Lena continued to glare at her.

"Unless you want more." Santana offered, trying to hide a smirk from forming. Off the corner of her eyes, several eavesdropping girls visibly get startled at the idea.

Lena concedes after a moment more, realizing that her efforts were in vain.

(Santana notices Brittany staring at her even after, an amused and respected look curled into her features.)

However, her routine schedule lasts for exactly two weeks because that third Monday after Spring Break, she arrives at half past six to find Brittany already seated on the bleachers inside the gymnasium. Surprised, she hurries over and drops her duffle bag before sitting down with the girl.

"Is something wrong?" Santana asks, trying hard not to stare at the swell of breasts spilling from Brittany's low cut workout shirt. She's been trying to make the least contact with Brittany as possible, which is fine when they're around the other girls but when they're alone, Santana has to suffer blue eyes mysteriously gazing at her. Typically she'd use the five free minutes to go over what she wants to talk to Brittany about, train herself not to stare too long, get a gentle mantra in her head going that ran somewhere along the lines of "Don't think about fucking her, don't stare at her boobs, don't touch her, don't..."

Brittany heaves a heavy sigh, shoulders slouching, bright blue eyes blinking back tears. "I can't do my review," she says honestly.

Santana quirks an eyebrow, "Homework?"

The blonde reaches into her backpack, pulling out a notebook. "Calculus," Brittany huffs.

"Calc?" Santana whimpers, gaze running from long toned legs back to Brittany's pleading face.

"I-I can't get this last problem for the review and I have the test after lunch..." Brittany does what Santana thinks to be the saddest beaten puppy look in existence that almost makes her pull the girl into a hug. Almost. "If it's not too much, can you help me? Mr. Earl won't help with anything the day of the test."

Santana swallows, nervous. She doesn't like being next to Brittany, who constantly looks drop dead gorgeous in her cheer uniform, it makes the blood rush down there too fast. "If it's just a couple problems."

She watches Brittany's face break into relief, her usual bubblegum smile returning. "We're doing anti derivatives right now..."

"Integrals?" Santana asks, impressed, as she sits down next to Brittany leaving a foot of space between them. "Area under a curve?"

Brittany nods, "The answer is 6 but I keep getting 8..."

The first warning bell rings signaling the start of class in fifteen minutes so she dismisses the girls to the locker room, covering her crotch with her clipboard. Naturally, her eyes gravitate towards Brittany, who catches her eyes, winks and then saunters off, hips moving from side to side.

Something changed in Brittany, or maybe something changed in her because the entire routine practice she couldn't stop staring at the blonde who became the spotlight for the morning's routine practice. Even before, during their spontaneous study session, Brittany kept pulling at her attention with feather light, innocent touches. A brush of fingertips at her clothed thigh here, scooting closer so their legs and ankles touched there. Even at one point, where they realized that Brittany's simple mistake with writing the wrong upper bound, they had looked up at each other and she could have almost swore that Brittany was about to kiss her.

Santana remembers back just an hour ago where she could make out the faint freckles on Brittany's sunkissed skin, the specks of dark blue in her eyes, the bend of her bottom lip being wet by a pink tongue. It makes the bulge in her pants strain even more.

Snapping back to reality, Santana realizes she's standing in a now empty gym with a semi hard penis barely hidden beneath her tracksuit. She rushes back into her office and she goes over the day's schedule, Sue has most of her classes in the morning, a lunch break, a staff meeting and then two free periods before she's off coaching the Cheerios for afternoon practice.

Gritting her teeth, Santana forces herself to calm down for her first period gym class.

Everything goes smoothly until she sees Brittany run down the hall at the corner of her eye while talking to the guidance counselor, Emma Pillsbury, then she's flooded with mental images of the blonde again, spreading her legs during stretches, easing gracefully into an aerial, breaking into the splits with comfort and precision. What she would do to spread those legs, to be between creamy thighs-

"Santana?" Emma clears her throat, "Are you...?"

She turns around to see what Santana is staring at and Santana stammers an excuse about thinking she saw excessive PDA in the hallway. They continue discussing whatever they were talking about for almost the entire period as Santana tries to contain her hormones.

She can't.

Santana just makes nice, nods, makes a couple comments here and there and it keeps Emma talking as she imagines the twelve different ways she could take Brittany in the counselor's office.

In the chair.

On the table.

Doggy style on the table.

On the table again with Brittany's legs bent back until they're almost at her ears because she's that flexible as Santana pounds in.

Against the door, Brittany whimpering into her as she takes all nine inches of Santana.

By the time she's back in her office, Santana barely has any mind to close the blinds. Without thinking, she drags her pants down, plopping down in her chair and frantically begins giving herself a handjob, pumping long and fast strokes up and down.

Santana imagines burying her face in Brittany's hair, the scent of vanilla and lavender filling her nostrils as she fucks the girl hard and fast. She explodes thinking about face fucking the blonde against the wall. Not a second later, the bell rings, signalling the end of fourth period. Barely a minute after that, the object of her masturbation session bursts through her door, beaming.

(Santana's glad she got off when she did because she forgot the lock the door. What could she explain to Brittany when she walked in on the sight of her giving herself a handjob? I'm sorry, I'm thinking about sexing you until you can't walk?)

"Brittany!" Santana starts, wiping the thin sheen of sweat from her forehead. "I was just," she looks down at some paperwork. "Grading some papers."

To prove her point, Santana grabs a pen from her desk but Brittany doesn't seem to be fazed by it. Instead, she just smiles even more. "I'm definitely going to pass the test!" Brittany says, proudly hands flying into the air, "And the last problem was exactly like the one we did!"

Santana smiles guiltily feeling her cock harden, "That's great."

Brittany laughs shyly, "Thank you." She stops to look at the closed blinds, "Why's it so dark in here?"

"Trying to save energy?" Santana squeaks, she doesn't even have the desk lamp on.

"Well you should have the blinds open." Brittany reminds sagely, "My mom says you'll ruin your eyes that way. But anyways, thanks so much Coach!"

"Santana." Brittany gives her an inquisitive look, "You can call me Santana."

The blonde nods excitedly, "Okay Santana," That sends jolt down to her groin that makes it twitch. Now she knows how her name sound coming out of those pink lips. "Thanks again."

Brittany starts getting friendly after that. On the very same day, she arrives early for afternoon practice and offers to carry the load of pompoms out to the field. Even more, she arrives early everyday and Santana struggles vainly to put both physical and emotional distance from her student.

She's never taught before, she majored in Kinesiology on a cheer scholarship hoping to finish and go into the medical aspect of it.

Was this normal for a student to get attached to someone? Santana guesses it must be hard being the cheer captain under Sylvester's rule, she understands being a former one herself, but she doesn't get Brittany sometimes. Sometimes, she looks over as she's helping another student and Brittany will be staring-almost glaring- in their direction. Just little things that makes Santana feel as if this is blossoming into something beyond professionalism, something that would get her fired.

She can't have that on her record.

Still, even with that in mind, when Brittany skips into the gym at half past six every morning, she feels something harden in her chest, stomach flipping.

By Friday of that week, her nerves are all by shot. Brittany has been grinding on it with persistence- on the literal sense too- because she's been shaking her ass all through routine, through every single performance during the basketball games, putting an extra umpphh into each of her moves, all the while staring at Santana.

She's flattered.

Brittany, who, as Santana has found out, has the 'perfect record'. She's kissed every one of the football boys and Santana can't imagine how many she's bedded. Its only recently she's found out that the girl has turned to her studies because of her low grades, foregoing her boyfriend, Sam Evans, in preference to graduating high school. What Santana can't fathom is how she can be in Calculus if the entire school views her as a dumb blonde.

(She's not really sure if Brittany and Sam are completely off, she only hears bits and pieces of the student gossip and it's not as if she can ask Brittany herself. It's not like Brittany's relationship status matters to her anyways. It doesn't. It shouldn't. Whatever.)

That Friday, Brittany ups her game to seven thousand, giving her a personal glimpse of the routine she had choreographed on her own in the morning. It was risque, at the very least, much less about the runs and jumps and flips and more about the body's movements. Brittany dances as well as she cheers, each move precise and crisp.

She's just looking for someone to understand her, Santana reminds herself, she's just...

Her thoughts stop short when Brittany finishes her dance, sweating, breathing heavy and batting her eyelashes at Santana. The blonde closes the distance between them quick, asking her what she thought of the dance.

"It was good. If you add a few more stunts, with the team, Coach Sylvester would probably want it for Nationals next year."

"I was hoping to use it for my audition to a liberal arts college." Brittany smiles, "I'm 18, you know, a senior."

Santana isn't sure what Brittany is trying to say, or maybe, she isn't sure she wants to accept what Brittany is saying. The tightness in her pants to begging for release, it's making her head spin, the way the other girl's chest heaves up and down, glistening in sweat, Santana aches to lick it off.

"I'll be going to college next year." The blonde continues, now looming over Santana's seated figure, "You and I aren't that far apart in age..."

Santana swallows, throat dry, it's always so hard to function when Brittany is this close. "Brittany, what are you trying to say?"

Her smile grows as she closes the distance them even more, leaning down and brushing a stray piece of hair from Santana's face. "What I'm saying, silly," all the alarms in Santana's body are going off at the touch but she can't move. "Is I think we would have been great friends in high school."

Santana nods hesitantly, frozen in her seat. Brittany is so close, so close, the only other time she had been this close was when she had helped Brittany with her review work. Again, she notices a pink tongue flicker out to wet the girl's lips, her pupils dilating in a sea of crystal blue. "Maybe we could have been more..." Brittany doesn't get to finish.

The double doors fly open revealing Lena and three other girls, obviously here and ready for morning practice. Brittany recovers easily, taking the water bottle in Santana's hand and then thanking her. Santana nearly faints when the blonde wraps her lips around the head of the bottle, the place that just five minutes ago was inside of Santana's mouth.

An indirect kiss.

She greets the girls, Lena sorely ignoring her for the mishap over a week ago. She's held a personal grudge against her since that incident, sending razor blade glares in her direction every so often. In high school, Santana wouldn't hesitate going all Lima Heights on her but as a coach, she has to bite her tongue.

Morning practice goes nicely, the older girls teach the new members their usual routines, run over some ideas for what to do for the end of the year assembly and plans for summer camp. Lena doesn't give her an attitude and, thankfully, Brittany keeps herself bothered with her friends. However, she isn't that lucky in the afternoon when Lena throws a fit over the new routine that Sylvester is learn.

When Santana walks over and tries to help, the girl grows angry.

"I don't need your help," Lena spats, "It's not like you can do any better."

Santana quirks an eyebrow. "You don't think I can cheer?"

"You haven't done anything except watch, talk and order us around. We don't even know if you're qualified" Lena snorts, "For all I know you could be a fake."

"Would you like to see me cheer?" Santana offers, a challenge she's more than willing to accept.

"Lets see if you can do any better," Lena snickers. From the corner of her eyes, she sees several other girls nod in agreement. As much as she hates to admit it, Lena was right. In the few weeks she's been here, all she's done is help the girls out, giving them advice on what to do and making sure they were on schedule. They had nothing to believe that Santana was capable and now is prime time to show herself off.

Santana orders the girls to take a seat at the bleachers, glad that they were practicing inside because of the storm. It's cool and she doesn't have to deal with bystanders since all other sports were canceled. Leave it to Sue Sylvester to keep her girls here even with the weathered hazard.

Santana chooses an old song on her iPhone, the same one that she used her senior year pep rally, the choreography isn't too hard and all the stunts she can do without bases. There are tumbles, back handsprings, cartwheels, aerials, all of the moves they were required to know as a Cheerio and more. Between the jumps and tricks are simple footwork and Santana falls easily into them, like riding a bicycle for the first time in years. Her muscles remember all the moves she's forgotten, it lets her dance to the current of the music and beat without thinking about it. The music turns on and Santana just moves with utter confidence.

By the time she's done, there's not an amazed face sitting on the bleachers. She catches Brittany's eyes, a sort of lustful satisfactory look painted on her face. Lena looks stunned. The girls erupt in cheers and catcalls.

Practice ends shortly after that and the girls clear out quicker than usual because the storm has slowed. By the time Santana is sure that they've all left, it had begun to downpour again, much to her dismay. Sticky and smelly, she decides to wait out the storm and shower.

This was the first time she had been in a locker room since her senior year in high school but everything felt familiar. The lockers were red, the school color, the shower stalls white with cream curtains. Santana puts her change of cloths and robe on the little ledge outside the stall provided for it and turns on the water.

It's cold, unpleasantly so, so she jumps away from it like a cat. Slowly the water gets warmer and warmer and Santana steps into under the spray of water after a couple moments. She's barely rinsing the soap and shampoo from her hair when she hears faint clanks echo into the locker room.

Santana freezes.

"Is anyone there?" Quickly she turns off the water so she can listen, "It's just Coach Lopez- I'll get out of you want."

After several long minutes of listening for any other noises and debating whether or not to step out and grab a towel, Santana returns to showering and turns on the water again. The water isn't even warm yet when someone yanks open the shower curtain and Santana jumps.

"Brittany!"

The girl just steps inside and Santana;s hands naturally move to cover her groin.

"You're not supposed to be in here!"

Santana backs up until her back hits the cold back panel of the shower stall, trying to put distance between her and Brittany's naked body. Her thoughts are conflicting, bouncing between she looks even better in real life than in my dreams and the screaming rational telling her to run.

She can't. Not with Brittany, whos taller and probably stronger, blocking her only exit.

To her horror, Brittany begins to walk closer, closing the distance between their bodies as Santana blubbers away. When their centers touch, Santana stops stammering, hands both wanting to push Brittany away and draw her closer at the same time.

Brittany leans forward. "Actually, Santana," she whispers, wetting her lips for the third time, "I think I'm exactly where I want to be."

Then she kisses her.

It's not chaste, it's not innocent or what should it be like in those romance movies Santana despises, it's wholesome with a pinch of watermelon chapstick. It's a swipe of Brittany's tongue and open mouthed and Santana is blindingly kissing her back with the same amount of passion. It wipes all thoughts from her head before she forces the broken pieces back together again, rational hitting her like a brick.

With a burst of energy, she forces Brittany away from her, bodies separating.

"I can't- we can't."

"Oh honey," Brittany cups her cheeks in a way that makes Santana's heart ache, "I'm 18." Her fingers trail from her cheeks to her neck, nails grazing her skin, the pad of her thumb running over her sternum. "We can."

"I shouldn't." Santana tries to shake the feelings away, desperately ignoring the trail of electricity on her skin left by Brittany's touch. "I-"

Brittany silences her with another kiss, one hand suddenly at her hips, pushing her hands away and oh my God, those fingers are wrapping around Santana's semi hard dick.

"You're my-" Santana stammers at the first pump of Brittany's hand, pumping again to make Santana's breath catch.

Brittany attaches herself to the juncture of her shoulder and neck, licking and biting a trail to her ear. "Three weeks," The blonde says, tongue outlining the shell of her ear, "Three weeks I kept waiting for you to invite me over, to make a move, to fuck me silly and every day I had to go home and fuck myself instead."

She keeps pumping and Santana's mind is clouded with lust. Every so often, a proper alarm will sound in her head and then is immediately shut off by Brittany's hand moving with utmost expertise up and down her shaft.

Brittany lifts her chin up with her free hand, forcing Santana to look into her eyes. "Do you want me, Santana?"

Desire consumes her being then, looking into blue eyes and blonde hair, their bests brushing so slightly, her penis being rubbed with urgency and care.

"Yes," Santana answers, kissing Brittany again, "Fucking yes."

When it becomes too much, Santana tries to still Brittany's hand. "I'm gonna blow if you don't stop."

Brittany just smirks and begins kissing down her body until she's eye level with Santana's hardened cock. "You're huge." she says in awe, "You're going to feel so good inside of me."

Santana moans at this and the sight of Brittany on her knees, both hands wrapped around her penis. "I'm going to suck you off," Brittany announces, making Santana grow even more, "Going to take your enormous dick in my mouth and lick and suck until you explode."

Without Santana's approval, the blonde opens her mouth and takes the head of her cock into her mouth. "Fuck," Santana groans, "Better than all my dreams."

She feels the blonde slowly take her in, inch by inch. Santana knows she's bigger than average and Brittany's only practice were probably adolescent males who could barely keep their shit together. No, Santana was going to be so much more than that for Brittany so when she reaches halfway down Santana's rod, Santana gently presses at her shoulders.

"You don't have to..." Her voice trails away as Brittany quirks an eyebrow, looking sexy and confident, her eyes twinkling in a way that says she can take Santana's entire length. And she does. In one push, Brittany impales herself down the rest of her cock, making her choke and gasp and nearly come.

"Oh shit!" Santana breaths, "You-"

Brittany pulls back, letting go of the meat in her mouth with a pop only to lick the head and slide back down even faster. Santana makes a noise she isn't sure if she's ever made in her life. The blonde keeps going at a frightening pace, practically inhaling her.

"Fuck," Santana whines, "I'm gonna, Britt, you've gotta stop, I'm about to cum."

Brittany slows down but doesn't let go, she sucks and licks at the bulbous head as her hands reach and jack Santana off. Santana lasts only a few seconds with those blue eyes staring up at her, she sputters and blubbers trying to stop Brittany from swallowing but it's too late. She orgasms, she body jolts but Brittany's hand keeps her hips still as she proceeds to swallow Santana's load with a long appreciative moan.

When she's done, Brittany kisses the tip again for good measure and stands back up, smiling a bubblegum smile as she begins grinding their centers together. Santana squeaks and kisses Brittany, letting their tongues and body rub luxuriously together as she turns off the water.

"Please fuck me now," Brittany asks without preamble when they break for air.

"I don't want to hurt you," Santana worries but her 'little' friend is betraying her, growing again in size and length.

Brittany shakes her head with the patience of an elderly woman, kissing her again and saying, "You're going to feel so good inside my pussy, San." Santana tries to concentrate on getting her fingers between the blonde's thighs by all her efforts are in vain. She tries to kiss the blonde and drop to her knees but that doesn't work either.

"I want your huge cock inside my thobbing pussy, Coach," Brittany says the name like it's covered with sugar and chocolate, all smooth and sweet, "Want your long and thick cock fucking me until I can't walk."

"Would you like that?" Brittany asks, kissing the side of her jaw, "Would you like to give me that dick and watch it go inside of me?"

That pounds the last screw to the coffin of Santana's restraints, she growls and turns to kiss the blonde, hard and wanting. Santana turns so Brittany is against the wall, one pale leg pressed to her side as she aligns her shaft with Brittany's entrance. She can't resist teasing a little, moving the head of her cock to bump Brittany's clit several times, making her moan.

After a moment, Santana eases herself in, slow and gentle, careful because the warm wet walls that are pressing tightly on her shaft are pressing down tight.

"Full," Brittany gasps from hooded eyes, "More, San, more."

Santana grunts a yes and pushes in further until she's two thirds way in.

"You're so tight Brittany," She's trying so hard to take it slow but it's so damn difficult when she's watching the blonde's chest heave, hands curled around her neck, urging her on. Brittany is clenching and unclenching her walls, as if trying to pull her in deeper so Santana pushes further until their hips are joined.

"Fuck." They both gasp in unison.

Every part of Santana is buzzing with energy, just waiting for the go ahead but she keeps herself tamed. She wants Brittany to feel good too and with her size, she knows that it can be hard for others to even .

"Move," Brittany says, "Fuck it, San, just fuck me."

Brittany makes her by jutting her hits. Santana takes this as a good sign and begins a slow rhythm, pulling out slowly and then pushing in just a little faster. She watches the pain fade from Brittany's tense body, from the way her eyebrows unforrow and to the breath she sucks in when Santana scrapes that spot.

Suddenly, Brittany's once still hips are moving to meet hers, pulling away to meet again but with more force.

"Yes!" Brittany plants a sloppy kiss that barely hits her mouth, moves to her cheeks and suddenly, blonde hair is being buried in her shoulder, Brittany biting down hard enough to draw blood. It only spurs her on. "Faster, keep going San!"

"So good," Santana replies, thrusting down harder. "You don't know many times I've thought about doing this to you."

"As many times as I've thought about it happening." Brittany answers, frantic to make Santana more aroused. If she could just let go and pound into her...

"Every day." Santana says, jutting her hips, "Multiple times a day."

"Tell me," Brittany encourages.

"Everytime I see you. Every time you do the splits. If you're in the room I want to fuck you, if you're dancing I want to bend you over the bleachers or table and take you in front of everyone." Santana can't control her hips now, something primal and animalistic is gripping onto her body, "I go home and all I can think about is you and how I would love to see your ass as you ride me."

"You were masturbating to me last Monday weren't you?" Brittany gasps in utter pleasure, almost laughing. "When I was finishing my math test you were in your office with your huge dick in your hands, thinking about the ways you'd fuck me silly, huh?"

"Yes," Santana answers, ramming her dick into Brittany's wet and dripping pussy. "I couldn't stop myself, fuck I can't stop myself now."

"Don't, don't stop, oh fuck, if you stop right now..." The blonde wraps her arms around Santana, "God! You, fuck, you're going to make me, I'm about to cum, San!"

Santana moves at as fast as possible, "Me too Britt. Fuck I've gotta pull-"

"I'm on the damn pill!" Brittany nearly shouts, body spasming as her walls clamp down on Santana.

"You're coming aren't you?" Santana asks rhetorically, hips moving wildly, "I'm going to make you cum twice baby!"

Brittany almost screams when she feels Santana's cock hit her g-spot again and again, the pleasure compounding onto her orgasm.

"You're pussy is so good and tight!" Santana says, unable to restrain herself, "Taking in my nine inch cock, you love it don't you?!"

"Yes! Yes! Oh God, yes! I love your thick dick!"

"Fuck I'm gonna cum." Santana warns, sweat running down her forehead.

"Give it to me, San! Blow your load in me!" Brittany wraps both legs around her waist, making it impossible for her to do anything else. "Shit! I'm going to cum again!"

Santana thrusts fast and hard as she can, banging them against the shower stall.

"Cum for me, Britt!" She orders and Brittany does, letting out a scream and clenching her body around Santana's. She follows her over the edge barely after, grunting and powering into Brittany until her mind goes blank with pleasure.

Brittany stays hooked onto Santana's hips, pressed against the wall for a couple minutes until Santana is sure that they won't tip over and moves to let the blonde down. Her cock slips out with a wet pop, followed by a stream of white liquid. Barely off her high, Brittany reaches down with two fingers, gathers the liquid and licks them clean.

"Oh fuck..." Santana watches the fingers disappear into her mouth, "You're dirty..."

Brittany smiles.

"You haven't seen anything yet."

Dunno if I want to make this a multichapter story or a one shot. Let me know what you think! Review!