Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. Sucks, right?

Prompt: From the Gleekinkmeme. It's a pretty long prompt so here's the gist of it: Santana buys a strap-on which turns out to be magic and turns into a girl!peen when she puts it on. She sexes Brittany with it.

Rating: NC-17


It's the seediest place Santana's ever been to. Worse than any bougie bar or liquor store; even worse than that friend of her brother's place where she once went to score some weed.

The fact that this store is just outside of town where she's been numerous of times but hadn't noticed it before is enough to raise even more red flags but she ignores them because the store is convenient and convenience is enough to let her drop her defenses.

There are no cars in the parking lot—good; this is the last place she wants anyone to see her—and there are no windows to peer into—bad, very bad; she doesn't know what to expect as is and the lack of windows tells her that the people who own the place really don't want to raise any expectations. She's pretty sure the inside can't get any worse than the outside though. The faded red brick is downright filthy and the large oak door is so ridden with an odd collection of dream catchers that she has to brush two aside to read the sign that is appropriately flipped to open.

The heavy door swings open on its own once she pushes it and she has to peer deep into the incense burned smock to even get her footing. The wooden floorboards creek beneath her Cheerio issued sneakers but her presence goes unnoticed. There isn't anyone at the cash register and no one rushes from the back to help her.

She thinks for a second that this might be too easy because the store clearly has no security measures in place and the toys are displayed in a productive manner, hung on shelves on the wall with boxes of the purchasable versions right underneath the display. She could just grab one she wants and walk right out without having to touch the $200 she conned her brother out of. It would be perfect, only as she edges further into the store, she realizes it's fucking huge—a whole helluva lot bigger than the outside suggested. It's like a department store for sex. There are kinky little outfits with the crotches ripped out hung in rows and a Barnes and Nobles sized section of magazines with women baring their unusually large tits and men covering all but the tips of their hard cocks. She passes through an aisle of DVDs devoted solely to defiling doctor-patient relationships until she reaches the wall where the sex toys are displayed.

She's in over her head.

Seriously, if she thought the size of the store was counterproductive to a good ole' five finger grab-and-go, then the amount of sex toys on display makes it practically impossible.

She doesn't even know where to begin, there's so many. She and Britt hadn't really even discussed anything beyond just wanting to kind of experiment with one but there are so many different shapes and sizes, some with ripples, some with built in vibrators, some curved. She's really starting to think she should have brought Brittany along, but she really wants it to be a surprise.

This really shouldn't be this hard. All she wants is something vaguely phallic shaped in a color that doesn't look like it belongs at a rave drag show with some straps. Is that really too much to hope for?

"Can I help you, dear?"

The store attendant is a tall woman, with platinum blonde hair tied into a braid that reaches the smalls of her back. She's young—much younger than her graying hair suggests and far too young to be calling anyone "dear." Santana would guess she's 25 at most, maybe 30 if she's spent most her life moisturizing as religiously as Kurt.

She gives Santana a crooked sagely type smile like she knows exactly what she's thinking. It sends shivers down Santana's spine in all the wrong ways.

"Your first time, dear?" she asks, giving her an almost pitying smile. Santana has to seriously bite back the excuse about wandering into the wrong shop that's stinging the tip of her tongue. She refuses to leave here empty handed though. Her pride be damned, she came all the way here for a reason and she isn't leaving without a goddamn strap-on.

"I—" she hesitates, still contemplating the value of a lie. She really could use some guidance here though, so she opts for the truth, "Yeah," she finally admits, refusing to meet the woman's stormy gray eyes.

"Boyfriend or girlfriend?"

"Uhmm…girlfriend?" Santana stammers, not quite sure what to make of the question or the images the question brings about in her mind. What the crotchless spanks hadn't confirmed about the shop's frequent patron, that question definitely had.

The woman grins at her and the sheer force of it is enough to give Santana another one of those strange shivers.

"I know just the thing. Wait right here dear," She disappears into the back, the sound of boxes ruffling floating through the door's beaded curtain. She's back soon with an ancient looking wooden box that she hands to Santana.

"The Beast?" Santana raises an eyebrow, reading over the old golden script engraved into the wooden box.

"Open it," The woman coaxes, a mischievous glint that Santana can't quite place, gleaming in her gray eyes.

Santana nods, flicking open the golden clasped lock. The inside of the box is lined with a deep purple velvet, the dildo and harness fitting snugly into place where the velvet dips to hold the pieces.

The dildo isn't anything horrific like the name would suggest. It's not like disgustingly big, nor does it have like weird ridges or spikes or anything; in fact, it's exactly what Santana had a mind. It's a neutral tanned color; not elephant large (maybe 6 or 7 inches at most in length and maybe an inch or so thicker than the largest guy she's ever been with) so she's not gonna like split Britt in half or damage her in a way that'll be super embarrassing to explain to the nurses at the ER. It's pretty soft too, Santana notes, as she runs her fingers across it. It's made of some kind of rubbery material, soft to touch but both slightly flexible and firmly rigid with very slight raised lines meant to mimic veins. There's a large, slightly rounded and tinted red head tapering off with the shaft into an almost unnoticeable upward curve, and molded balls at the base completing the dildo's realistic design.

She traces a strap of the harness as well, testing the softness of the synthetic leather. It's definitely something she could work with.

"Is it similar to what you had in mind?" The woman asks.

"Mmhmm," Santana agrees, "How much?"

"How does twenty bucks sound?"

Really fucking fantastic actually; Santana doesn't hesitate to whip out a twenty from her purse. It's far less than she had intended on paying in the first place and the weighty wooden box already feels like a fucking great investment and she hasn't even surprised Britt with it yet.

The woman takes the money with a grin, her smile imitating the excitement that Santana absolutely refuses to show until she's at least in her car.

"I think your girlfriend will appreciate the authenticity of it, dear," she gives another one of those weird, sagely kind of smiles but Santana ignores the weird feeling it sends through her.

"Thanks," she murmurs, tucking the box beneath her arm.

"Use it wisely, dear," she hears the woman call after her as she makes her way back through the shop to the exit. "It's good for ten uses," comes floating after and that should probably be enough to give Santana pause because ten uses? What is this, rent a strap-on? That would be weird and really disgusting and the woman didn't take her name or use her credit card so there would be no way to track her down anyway. So, what's gonna happen? It's not like the strap-on is just gonna disintegrate after ten uses. That would be stupid and unlikely. Whatever. The woman is clearly kinda weird anyway. She was probably just trying to insinuate something snarky about her relationship or something.

As soon as she gets into her car, she types out a quick text to Brittany asking her if she wants to sleepover tonight and she uses just enough winky smiley faces for Britt to obviously know that she may as well forget the overnight bag with clothes. She's got a toothbrush and a spare Cheerios uniform at Santana's house anyway and she definitely won't need much else. Especially not underwear.

The hour long ride home goes so much quicker when all Santana can think about is how Brittany usually forgoes underwear anyway and by the time she pulls into her driveway, she wants Britt so badly that she has to resist the urge to throw something in anger when she realizes Brittany isn't at her house yet.

She checks her messages and reads a new one from Britt saying she'll be over as soon as she finishes giving Lord Tubbs a bath.

Santana sighs. Lord Tubbington is the most stubborn cat in the history of felines so she knows it'll be a while. At least it'll give her time to clean her room.

She tucks the strap on box in a drawer in her adjoining bathroom and starts sorting through the organized chaos of her bedroom.

She has just finished putting clean sheets on her bed when her bedroom door creaks open and Brittany pops her head in.

"Hey,"

"Hi," Santana smirks, watching Brittany enter her room. Brittany's still in her Cheerios uniform too and Santana really can't wait to peel it off her. She's so wet just thinking about it. Even when she was cleaning, all she could think about was that box in her bathroom drawer and how awesome it'd be to finally unveil her surprise to her girlfriend. Now that Brittany's here, she really can hardly wait.

"I let myself in," Brittany says, dropping her backpack into a corner with Santana's.

"I can see that, babe," Santana murmurs, amused. Her parents aren't home and won't be until early hours of the morning and Britt's been letting herself into her house using the spare key to the backdoor for years now anyway. "Did you manage to get Tubbs in the tub?"

"I did," Brittany affirms, bearing a brilliant proud smile.

In an instant, her proud smile turns teasing and then positively carnal.

"So, what did you want to do tonight, San?" she asks, stalking closer in a way that she just had to have picked up from her intense study of cats. "Sweet Valley High marathon? She suggests, her raised eyebrow and pursed lips telling Santana that she has a real good idea of what Santana wants to do tonight. Santana shakes her head anyway, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as she watches the dangerous sway of Britt's hips. "Cheerios choreo?"

"No,"

"Glee choreo?" Brittany's close enough now that Santana can reach out and touch so she fits her palms on the swell of each side of her hips and tugs until Brittany's hovering over her from between her legs.

Santana scoots back on the bed a bit more so Brittany's thighs are brushing against her mattress.

"You," she hums in response to Brittany's question, craning her neck a bit so Brittany can comfortably lean down to capture her lips.

She does.

Britt's fingertips brush across her cheek and skate into her hair loosened from her Cheerios ponytail as her tongue, hot and questing, slips between Santana's lips. Santana gasps, grasping Brittany's hips tighter, fingernails digging into the polyester shell of her Cheerios uniform. Brittany kisses her breathless until her head is spinning and the pit of her stomach feel tight and heavy. She's so wound up she feels she could detonate.

She tears her lips from Brittany's, pressing them sloppily against Britt's chin and jaw.

"I have a surprise for you, baby," she whispers as Brittany goes to connect their lips again. Britt's lips curve into a smile against hers.

"Yeah?" Britt asks, her voice still floating on the breathiness of kissing until breathless. Her cheeks are already flushed with pretty blotches of pink and her eyes are decorated with arousal, lively translucent blue irises dimmed to mimic that stormy, imbued sky blue of nightfall. It takes everything Santana has to not just throw her down immediately and have her any which way.

"Mmhmm," Santana confirms instead, pecking Brittany's lips softly and pressing on her hips until she has enough room to stand and squeeze between Britt and the bed. She slides her tongue across Brittany's bottom lip teasingly, darting out of reach when Brittany parts her lips to capture her questing tongue. Brittany groans and Santana laughs, teasingly swatting at Britt's ass. "Get undressed and wait right here while I get it,"

Brittany nods her agreement, drawing Santana into a last lingering kiss before she allows her to retreat into the bathroom.

Santana has never stripped faster in her life.

She pulls out the box eagerly, finally removing the pieces from their fitted compartments.

The harness isn't as complicated as it looks; she pretty much steps right into it, pulls the straps tight and the material fits comfortably low against her hips. The protruding dildo isn't so bad either. It bobs slightly when she moves, but it's points mostly upward so it doesn't feel like it's leading her and it isn't really heavy or super obtrusive.

She glances in the mirror, gazing at the way the large dildo looks flanked by the toned muscles of her thighs. She kind of looks ridiculous but she imagines watching as the dildo stretches and disappears into warm, flushed flesh and that is not ridiculous at all.

She pulls down the bathrobe hanging over her shower curtain rod and shrugs it on so she doesn't reveal her surprise too quickly. Once it's tied, the presence of the dildo goes largely unnoticed.

She smirks, walking back into her room to find Brittany sitting on the edge of her bed, waiting. Santana grins at the sight. Of course, Brittany is always beautiful— she is the sexiest person that Santana has ever laid her eyes on—but there's something more about this moment. There's something about the effortlessness of it. Brittany isn't even trying; she's just perched on the edge of her bed, pale skin vivid against Santana's dark sheets. Her legs are parted slightly, strong thighs giving way to a strip of neatly trimmed blonde hair and lower still, she's flushed and swollen, glistening with her arousal.

Santana wants her so badly she's throbbing. It's a different arousal than usual, a tingling ache in her groin that tugs at her where the dildo butts against her center and the length of it brushes against her thigh. It feels far better than she thought it would considering that unlike many of the other strap-ons she saw, this one doesn't have inserts or built-in vibrators for the pleasure of the wearer but it's creating these small sparks of pleasure between her thighs and she can only imagine how great it'll feel once she's inside Brittany and they're thrusting together in their carnal, lusty haze.

"You ready for me, Britt?" Santana asks, sauntering over until she's in between Brittany's thighs. She runs her palms up toned thighs, squeezing hard when Brittany breaths an "always" against her lips.

Brittany kisses her hard, sneaking her hands low beneath Santana's robe and grazing her knuckles up Santana's calves.

"Did you buy new lingerie?" She guesses, scratching softly at the backs of Santana's knees.

"No," Santana answers, resisting Britt's warm, teasing kisses with hot and longing.

"What's my surprise then?"

Santana tugs on Brittany's hands, bringing them to the strings tying her robe closed.

"Why don't you untie me and find out?"

Brittany leans up to kiss her again, her fingers quick and dexterous as they work to unknot the ties. She tugs the soft cotton off of Santana's shoulders, standing to follow the fall of fabric with her lips. She kisses down the smooth stretch of skin over her throat, across her strong shoulders and over her collarbone. Santana sighs softly, enjoying the small kisses Brittany is raining over her body. She closes her eyes relishing the treatment and patiently waiting for Brittany to notice her surprise.

It's not until Brittany's lips reach about mid sternum does Santana hear her surprised gasp.

"Do you like it babe?"

When Brittany pulls back, Santana fully expects to be grilled on how much she spent and why she didn't let Brittany go with her or at least let her split the bill so when a barrage of questions don't come, she opens her eyes to find Brittany strangely pensive.

"I really didn't spend that much so don't sweat it, B!"

"I—San—" Brittany's biting her bottom lip, her forehead creased in deep confusion. "I—Is this some kind of joke?"

"What?" Santana is completely baffled by Brittany's reaction. She reaches forward to cup Brittany's cheek but Brittany flinches from her touch and Santana realizes that her eyes are rimmed red, like she's holding back tears. "Britt, I don't understand— I thought you wanted this!"

"How could—I mean I don't—" Brittany can't find the words. "I—is this like your boob job? 'Cause you know I love your body most when you love your body but I really wish you would talk to me about this kinda stuff. We could have talked about it, planned some—"

"Britt, what are you—?" Santana is completely confused by the way Brittany is acting.

"You have a penis, San! That's not something you just like decide overnight!"

"Oh my God—No, Britt," Santana almost sighs a breath of relief that that's all this is—Brittany's just freaking out because she thinks it's real, not because she doesn't want this anymore or she's mad at her or something. "It's not real, B! It's—" she reaches down to touch the dildo but instead of feeling the smooth plastic she remembers feeling before, she comes up with a fistful of honest to God flesh. "Oh my God!" she looks down and sure enough even the straps that had been holding the dildo into place are gone and taunting her from between her thighs is a very real, very large upward curved dick. "Oh my God!" She releases the member as if scolded, trying to get as far away from it as possible even though it is very much attached to her body. "This was plastic like five minutes ago, I swear. Like—oh my God!" She bolts to her full length mirror and finds that the mirror is reflecting what seems to be some sick reality. "That woman! She must have done this!" She rushes to her drawer and pulls out a random assortment of clothes which happens to include a silk thong that she tries and fails to fit over her erection. She kicks them away in frustration and goes to rummage through her drawer for her Cheerios sweats.

"San," Brittany wraps her arms around Santana from behind and Santana shudders in fright from the suddenness of it all and even more from the way the sudden touch causes this desperate stirring between her legs. Brittany seems undeterred. "Just slow down, okay?" she nuzzles into the nape of Santana's neck. "Start from the beginning. What woman?"

Santana takes in a deep breath trying to calm herself even though her voice still comes out shaky.

"There was this sex store just outside of town and I thought maybe I could surprise you by getting a strap-on. The woman working there, she was—I don't know how to describe it. There was just something about her that made me feel weird. I—God, you probably think I'm crazy!"

"I don't think you're crazy. Sorry I freaked out. I was just surprised," Brittany says softly, completely genuine. She nudges at Santana's hips until Santana turns to face her; Santana tries her best to ignore the way the closeness makes her kind of brush up against Brittany's stomach in a way that is far from unpleasant. "You think some woman at that store did this to you?"

"It's the only explanation!" Santana insists. "She sold me some special strap-on and all of a sudden I've got this thing!" She pulls away from Brittany, intent on finding her sweat pants. "I have to go back. We have to make her change me back!"

"Alright, just calm down, honey." Brittany's hands cover Santana's in her drawer.

"Calm down?" Santana doesn't understand how Brittany is all of a sudden so nonchalant about this.

"It's almost 9, Santana. If it's not closed already, it probably will be by the time we get there so let's just go to bed or watch Sweet Valley High and we can skip homeroom tomorrow and go first thing in the morning, ok?"

Santana sighs because Brittany is making sense but that stirring between her legs is becoming an almost painful heaviness and she knows that there's no way in hell she can just forget about it long enough to relax.

"You can't just expect me to go to bed like this!"

"Well, not exactly like that,"

Santana turns in time to see the smile curling at the corners of Brittany's lips.

"Britt, this isn't the time for jokes!"

"Who's joking?" Brittany asks, drawing closer. "I mean—" she taps her fingertips seductively up Santana's thigh. "I'm still really horny," her breath blows warm across Santana's neck and Santana's new addition gives a little telling twitch. Brittany practically purrs at the response. "You're clearly still horny,"

"Britt!" Santana's breath leaves her. She shakes her head trying to shake off the rumbling Brittany's instilling in her. She can't quite believe what Brittany's suggesting right now. "We can't!"

"Why not?" Brittany's tone takes a turn for a mix of both seductive and playful which never fails to make Santana's whole body jolt in anticipation. She is, however, very aware how this jolt is different from usual, how it feels like all the blood in her body is rushing out of her so even her brain function feels like it's taking a backseat to her boner.

"I just—" she feels slow in her delivery, sluggish in anything that doesn't have to do with the incessant throbbing of her arousal. "I don't even know how, Britt!"

Brittany hums a sultry little chuckle right against Santana's ear.

"What were you planning to do with the strap-on?"

"That's—that's different!" Santana stutters.

"How is it different?"

"That wasn't real! This—" she gestures wildly between them. There are so many differences between a dildo and this. "I don't even have a condom!" she points out which brings with it a whole new set of problems. "Britt, I don't even know if I could get you pregnant!"

"Unlikely since I'm on the pill."

"Wait, why are you still on the pill?"Santana asks. It's not that she thinks Brittany is actively cheating on her or anything, it's just, she gave up taking those pesky little pills the moment she decided she no longer had interest in keeping up her little hetero façade; she just assumed that them becoming an exclusive couple would prompt a similar response from Brittany.

"I hate cramps," Brittany says with a simple shrug. "And good thing too because now you have no excuse not to fuck me!"

Santana sighs and then shudders as Brittany licks a hot stripe up the side of her neck. It's becoming harder and harder to keep up her resistance even though she's still not completely sure she wants to go through with something like this.

It just seems weird. Too weird.

Brittany seems to sense her uncertainty because she cups Santana's cheeks, pressing their noses together in that sweet way she does.

"Stop worrying so much." she mumbles. "Just kiss me, ok?"

Santana couldn't resist a request like that if she tried so she doesn't try; she closes the distance between them pressing their lips together softly at first and then harder when Britt's smile disappears into her lips.

Brittany's kisses are soft and sweet one second and warm and wet the next. She curls her tongue into Santana's hot mouth, tempting her into pursuing each languid flick and swirl.

Brittany nudges Santana toward the bed and Santana goes willingly, following the ebb and flow of Brittany's prowess until she's on her back on her mattress and Brittany's straddling her hips.

She knows what Brittany's trying to do and she loves her all the more for it but even though Brittany is blocking it from her view with her gorgeous, gorgeous body and even though it is so easy to get lost in the usual in the unusual, there's this certain tightness in her groin that won't allow her to completely let go.

Her body just feels so different, heavy and sluggish in a way she really shouldn't be.

"Honey," Britt peppers kisses to her cheeks, distracting Santana with her sweet lethargy. "Just relax!" she curls her tongue behind Santana's earlobe and then tugs at it with her teeth. "Let me take care of you."

Santana can't help the way her body reacts to the soothing promise of Britt's voice. Brittany has calmed her mind by way of this intimacy between them so many times that it's Pavlovian really, the way her hips jerk, reaching for the familiar comfort Brittany's offering. She's completely unprepared for the quick jolt of alarmingly amazing satisfaction the little movement causes. She kind of just glides against the smooth skin of Britt's ass and the friction is enough to pull a moan from deep within her.

Brittany smirks, sliding a slick trail against Santana's skin when she rocks her hips backs to produce more of that delicious friction.

"Fuck!" Santana gasps, shuddering beneath the attention.

"I'm so horny, San," Brittany husks against Santana's collarbone, decorating filthy words with her usual soft and curious lilt. She rocks harder against Santana's stomach as if to prove her point and Santana groans at the sensation, loving everything about the way Brittany shivers and moans, spreading her arousal all over Santana's skin.

"Britt!" There's warning in the hitch of Santana's breath when she sighs Brittany's name. Brittany is stirring something deep inside her even though her body doesn't feel like her own right now.

There is familiarity, of course, in the pull Brittany has over her—it's not unusual the way she moans and arches into Brittany's toned body—but there's something completely new in the way the pleasure tugs at her, like something inside her is stretching taut with each touch.

"Brittany!" Her spine rises from the mattress, her body pleading for something her mind has yet to even process.

"I want you so much, S." Brittany whimpers, rotating her hips in slow circles, maddeningly mounting her pleasure rather than relieving it. She drags her fingernails up Santana's sides, finally reaching forward to palm her tits, rough—just the way Santana likes it. "I don't think I could ever not want your body." She whispers, slurred and hushed, like she's divulging her innermost secret.

"Me either." Santana agrees with the sentiment, sliding her palms up toned thighs to finally settle on Brittany's slim hips.

There's just something about Brittany on top of her like this, taking control of both of their bodies, that just drives her crazy. It's a slow, methodical seduction that warms her from the inside out.

"Can I ride you, baby?" Brittany asks, coquettish in her allure. Her eyes are dark and half lidded, her body open and receptive to Santana's appraisal. She reaches behind her to take Santana in her palm, wrapping the addition in the warmth of her soft, tight fist. Santana's whole body quakes.

"S'so big," Brittany murmurs, tugging the skin of the shaft tight as she slowly sinks her fist all the way down to the base of her cock and then back up to the tip. "You're gonna fill me up so good!"

"Fuck, Britt!"

Brittany's been confident during sex or with anything sexual for as long as Santana can remember—it's one of the things Santana enjoys about sex with Britt the most—but this is different now, more purposeful. It reminds her of a Brittany she's seen only glimpses of a handful of times—the Brittany she'd hear football players whispering about in the hallways, the Brittany she's witnessed for herself only once in their sophomore year when they got dared into that threesome with that senior linesman and Brittany flirted and giggled, oozing this sort of sex appeal that Santana hadn't even begun to learn to replicate yet. Santana thinks that maybe she ought to be turned off by it or offended by it or something because this isn't her Brittany, this is the Brittany that has tempted and teased her way into the pants of at least half of McKinley's current football team and that thought should really deter her but she's throbbing so fucking hard for her right now.

"Feel good?" Brittany teases, easing off of her a bit so she can slide further down her body. She keeps working her with nimble fingers, sliding up and down her hard shaft with an infuriating gentleness.

It's not until Brittany arches off of her completely, supporting herself on her knees to glide the length of the cock sensually along her slit, does Santana get her first real good look at this foreign appendage to her body. It's not just a carbon copy of the dildo made real as she would assume if she ever really thought about a dildo becoming real, but it's almost molded in a way to fit her the way a dick really shouldn't. It's maybe an inch or so shorter than she remembers the dildo being but it's thick in a way she hasn't seen outside of appropriately labeled pornos, with deep running veins and a set of tight hanging balls.

It's not the way her body should look; it's strange and heavy and so not ideal but it's so much harder to care when Brittany is rubbing herself along it, moaning unabashedly as she rubs her swollen clit with the bulging head. Brittany's so wet and soft; it looks almost as good as it feels watching as Brittany's pussy lips suck tight around her hard shaft, their skin bumping sloppily.

Santana could cum from this, she knows; she can feel it building inside her—her shaft tight and tingling and slick from Britt's teasing, but Britt pulls back after a few hot, panting moments, shuddering hard as she drags the head of the cock down, poising the tip just short of inside her.

She makes a few tight circles, whimpering as she works the glistening head slowly inside herself. She meets a hot, tight resistance, her walls clenching hard around the large intrusion.

"Jesus!" Santana gasps, watching with a dazed gaze as part of her disappears inside Brittany. She's thought about/been curious about/dreamed about being able to feel Brittany like this on more occasions than she'd like to admit. She loves the feeling of Brittany, silky and sticky, around her fingers and the way Brittany clenches around her tongue is probably one of her favorite feelings ever but this is something new entirely. She's just barely inside her but it's already so different from usual. She's used to the slickness and the swollenness and the flush that spreads bright across Britt's body; she's used to the changes Brittany's body undergoes to become receptive to the pleasure but right now Brittany is becoming receptive to her. She can feel how Brittany is both stretching to accommodate her and clenching to receive more of her and the pleasure of their joint venture spreads through her, little shockwaves of primal satisfaction bursting inside her.

Brittany sinks down onto more of her, fingers circled tight around the base of the cock to keep herself steady. She moves slowly, raising up until she's teasing just the head of the cock again and then down—up and down, up and down, sheathing more and more of the warm shaft inside her until finally they're connected wholly and Santana's being hugged from tip to base by this incredible slick warmth inside Brittany.

"Fuck, you're really wet," Santana marvels, breathless as Brittany rocks her hips in slow circles, massaging her shaft with the soft clasp she has on her.

"I'm always really wet for you," Brittany hums and of course, Santana knows that. She has always marveled at the way her fingers would come up glistening or her chin and lips would coat with the raw, tangy flavor of Britt's arousal but now it's surrounding her. She's submerged completely in her, feeling the way her walls stretch and clench to receive her.

Brittany presses her palms just below Santana's breast bone, finding purchase on her body as she raises her hips, drawing all the way up to the tip again and then sinking to sheath her in one swoop. She starts a rhythm with her hips, musical in her movement as she bounces easily atop her, manipulating her throbbing erection with the sucking clench of soft muscles.

The way Brittany moves above her has got to be the sexiest thing Santana has ever seen. She can see as the pleasure overcomes her; it's in the concentrated crease of her forehead and the grooves that form at the corners of her lips. It's in her sporadic, gasping breaths and the tight clench of her abs. It probably shouldn't be so fucking sexy watching as the ample shaft disappears and reappears with each of Brittany's thrusts but Santana is thoroughly mesmerized by it. Each time she's encased in Brittany, this stagnant heat unfurls in the pits of her stomach, pushing her closer towards the edge she's been approaching ever since she bought the strap-on that lead to this.

"Fuck, Britt!" she groans, palming the curve of Brittany's ass as she rocks forward onto her.

Brittany's becoming more desperate in her movements, driving down so hard into Santana's lap that the slap of flesh on flesh is making an almost obscene sound.

It's no longer the soft, sweet comfort sex that they started with but now it's this harsh, primal fucking like they're trying to clash into one another.

Santana arches her hips into Brittany's thrust, driving the deepest inside her she's been and Brittany makes this sharp whining kind of whimper, falling forward onto her elbows so she's covering Santana's body with hers.

"Yes, San!" Brittany whines, burying her face into the side of Santana's neck. She's almost pained in her expression, wound tightly and keening. "Just—" she slams her hand brutally into the mattress before clenching the sheets between her fingers. Her back arches into a perfect curve. The new angle of Britt's prone body makes it harder to keep up the deep thrusts but Santana tries harder, meeting her desperate squirming with strong upwards thrusts. "Oh my God, San! Just keep—keep doing that!" she mumbles, pressing her forehead so hard into Santana's neck that it's almost like she's trying to break inside her. She keeps pressing down on each thrust, knocking their hips almost clumsily and it's not until Santana's pushes her palm to the smalls of her back and Brittany makes an almost animistic grunt that she realizes that Britt's effectively using the momentum of their bodies to bump her clit into Santana's body. Holding onto Brittany's hips, she transforms her thrusts into a sort of body roll, still guiding Brittany into the magnificent constant pressure she's applying on her shaft while turning the momentum of their movement into more of a tremor against her clit. It doesn't take much more. Brittany makes an incoherent little squeak into her ear right before her body tenses completely, her breath stilling for these long, agonizing seconds, before she collapses almost boneless back onto Santana, suddenly clenching the tightest she's been all night around Santana's hard cock.

Santana wants to hold on. She wants to keep pounding into the wet, sucking pressure surrounding her. She wants to enjoy the pleasures of Britt's orgasm in it's entirely but she can't quite keep a grip on herself. It's like Brittany's orgasm squeezes hers out. That springing tension inside her kind of just erupts into smalls bursts.

"Holy hell. Holy fucking hell." She breathes in mantra, letting a few more hard jerks guide her over her edge. It's not the usual turbulent, rolling waves of orgasm that crash over her but she shudders into it, her body giving a few powerful spurts of releases, pulsing against Brittany hot walls before she falls limply back to the mattress, calmed by the sudden disappearance of tension.

"Wow!" Brittany laughs against her neck after a few peaceful moments. She's still sporadically contracting, shivering lightly with the aftershocks of her climax whereas Santana feels pretty dead to the world in ecstasy.

"Wow!" Santana agrees.

Brittany chuckles as she climbs off of her, dropping heavily onto the mattress next to her.

Santana watches, eyes heavy, as Brittany pets her finger gently through her folds, shuddering visibly at the sensation.

"You came a lot." Brittany points out, bringing her fingers up so she and Santana can see the drops of creamy white liquid she's collected on her fingertips.

Santana scrunches her nose. Ok, so she totally had really fucking fantastic sex but she is still thoroughly freaked out by the thought of that coming out of her.

Brittany has no such qualms. She brings her fingers to her lips, sucking the liquid into her mouth.

"Britt!" Santana admonishes.

Brittany just shrugs.

"You still taste the same!" she assesses. She smacks her lips, running her tongue across her bottom one. "A bit guy-er! Like milkier." She snuggles a bit into Santana's neck, a sure sign that her orgasm is catching up with her. She's running her fingertips up and down Santana's thigh—up and down, up and down, finally joining Santana in her peaceful post-orgasmic haze.

They stay like that for long, dragging moments, just breathing and breathing each other in.

"Hey Santana," Brittany finally draws into their haze. "Don't freak out!" she hums. "But you're plastic again!"

Santana springs into sitting position, accidentally nudging Brittany off of her as she grasps the one hundred percent, absolutely, positively plastic dildo between her thighs. She rushes to push the black straps of the harness of her hips, finding that below the synthetic leather, she is completely back to normal, even down to her Brazilian wax.

Content that she hasn't been irrevocably changed, she examines the dildo closely, finding that it is also largely unchanged from prior to the… incident.

"Britt," she hesitates, feeling stupid even really thinking it even though she just firsthand witnessed it. "I think this is a magical strap-on!"

"You think?" Brittany asks, too nonchalant for perhaps anyone but Brittany.

Santana thinks back to the store; she thinks back to the woman, wondering if perhaps she had been given clues of the nature of the strap-on. One thing in particular comes to mind.

"Now that I think about it, the woman did say something really strange!" she admits. "Like how it's good for ten uses or something!"

Brittany sits up, intrigue written all over her expression.

"So, that means we can, you know, like ten times before the magic disappears?"

"I think so." Santana nods.

"Cool!" The way Brittany's features turn suddenly lewd completely betrays the easy-going lilt to her voice.

"Oh no!" Santana huffs in joking exasperation.

"I'm already thinking of ways we could use it." Brittany admits, dragging Santana back to the bed so she can use her as a pillow.

"Yeah?" Santana asks softly although what she clearly means is, 'I can't wait.'

"Yeah." Brittany agrees, snuggling into her shoulder.

Santana's kind of already thinking of ways they could use it to.

I want to write all ten times they use it but I have maybe only five ideas bouncing around for chapters so review with what you guys want to see me write and I'll try to fit them in.