Warning: Two girls having gratuitous marathon strap-on sex. Ohhh yeah. It's on!
Summary: It always feels like years- and not just a few short days- to Santana, whenever Brittany goes away. Brittana. Marathon!sex. TWO-SHOT!
A/N: Hiii everyone! Happy Wanky Wednesday! It really is hump day with this story, though. O_o. Seriously, I had to take a break in the middle of writing it, so it's short, but I didn't want to leave you guys hanging on hump day, so the second half of this bad boy will be up tomorrow. ;) In any case, enjoy #8 in the SUMMER OF SMUT series! :D
This story is dedicated to the tumblr anon who requested it. Hope it lives up to your standards, dear anonymous pal! :D
Happy wanking~
Santana bounces with nervous energy as her eyes find the large, glowing red letters of the digital clock above her head for probably the millionth time. She bites her lip, her stomach fluttering in anticipation as nervous excitement practically vibrates through her. All around her, the sounds of people talking and greeting each other, of suitcases rolling, of intercoms paging flight numbers and specific people, fill the cold, chilly air of the airport. She can smell coffee from a Starbucks on the other side of security, and then her phone vibrates in her hand. As she reads the text message from her girlfriend, she can't help the huge grin that spreads across her face.
Landed. See u soon :*
The words send another jolt of excitement through her, and Santana chews her lip, her brown eyes scanning the terminal exit in search of any sign of the person she's been missing for all of three days. People walk past and Santana feels her patience dwindling, she's been dying to hold Brittany in her arms, to feel the warmth of her skin, to breathe in her scent-
And then blue eyes find hers, and her heart stops for a second before it starts again in doubletime. Brittany strides toward her, cutting a path through a group of people, completely oblivious to them as they never break eye contact. And then, her girlfriend is standing before her with her small rolling suitcase, real and alive and in person after three long, miserable days apart, and Santana doesn't restrain herself for even a second as she rolls up onto her toes and crashes their lips together, her hand grabbing a fistful of Brittany's jacket. Brittany's arms immediately wrap around her waist, and the two of them get lost in the kiss, completely ignoring the fact that they are in public, kissing heatedly as if they'd been parted for years, or months, and not just three days. When Santana's tongue darts out to swipe at Brittany's bottom lip, Brittany tugs their hips together flush, then pulls back from the kiss with a sharp gasp, panting.
At Brittany's questioningly-raised eyebrow, Santana smirks, pushing her hips forward a little more so that Brittany can feel the obvious bulge between her legs through her loose jeans. At the confirmation that Santana is already packing, Brittany moans, her heart pounding, her stomach tightening in arousal.
With one last peck to Brittany's pink, moist lips, Santana pulls away, sliding her hand down to lace their fingers together. She reaches chivalrously for Brittany's suitcase with her other hand, shooting Brittany a shy smile, and then tugs them both along and out to the parking lot, to her waiting car.
Once she's stowed Brittany's small suitcase in the back seat, her driver's side door isn't closed for two seconds before Brittany's reaching to pull her across the console and into another heated kiss. They make out like teenagers for a moment, their breaths heavy, their kisses fast and sloppy, tongues curling into each other's mouths. Brittany rakes her fingers through Santana's hair, pulling her even closer, and despite the uncomfortable angle over the center console, Santana struggles to press against her, craving contact. When Brittany drops her right hand to press against the front of Santana's pants, putting pressure on her, Santana breaks the kiss with a low groan, her hips rocking up slightly, desperate for more. She's already so turned on from just kissing Brittany, especially after having been deprived of her for three days. Her car is filled with Brittany's scent, strong and noticeable after having been absent. Santana takes a shaky breath and struggles to calm her heartbeat and slow down her racing pulse, which is pounding between her legs.
Brittany's hands slide down from the back of her head and cup her jaw, pulling her into a slow, nibbling kiss that ends with her sucking on Santana's bottom lip, and Santana shakes, trying to keep control of herself, because she's about five seconds away from climbing over the center console.
"B, if you don't stop, we're not going to make it home," Santana rasps, her voice husky with arousal as she pushes gently on Brittany's shoulder in half-hearted protest.
"That's fine," Brittany purrs, pressing slow, wet, open-mouthed kisses up Santana's jaw. She teases her tongue out and then chuckles lowly. "I'd be more than happy to fuck you right here in the parking garage."
Santana inhales sharply at Brittany's words, her grip on Brittany's shoulder tightening. She opens her mouth to respond, to protest, but Brittany's still talking.
"I'd put my mouth on you first to get you ready, and then I'd straddle your lap and ride you until you came-"
"Britt," Santana whimpers, her hips bucking up involuntarily at the thought. She licks her lips, but then Brittany's pulling away, settling back into the passenger seat, her lips pulled up into a sly smile.
"Take me home, Santana," she says, her blue eyes dark and fervent, and Santana can only gulp, pulse racing, as she starts up the car.
She can't get them home fast enough.
And then once they're home, she can't get the door to their shared apartment open fast enough.
And then once the door's open and they're inside, she can't pull Brittany into her arms fast enough, can't kiss her fast enough, can't press her back against the front door and grind her hips against her fast enough. Brittany moans into her mouth, weaving fingers through her hair and gripping it tightly as they kiss, their tongues stroking together and teeth claiming each other's lips. Santana lets her hands fall to Brittany's ass, squeezing roughly and pulling her hips into her insistent rocking motion. It's hard to get just the right angle to put pressure where she wants it but it doesn't stop her from seeking it out.
As Brittany breaks the kiss to suck on her neck, Santana feels her palming the front of her pants, her fingers struggling to get them open and undone, to tug the zipper down. Santana licks her lips at Brittany's desperation, and then her breath hitches as her girlfriend's playful- but still sultry- voice washes over her.
"I want you to fuck me so bad," she mutters. "I want you inside me. I've been aching for you for three days."
Santana groans and turns her head to drag teeth across the base of Brittany's neck, and then she's guiding Brittany around and through the kitchen, attempting to get her to the bedroom. They hit the countertop and pause as Brittany finally gets her pants opened enough to slip her hand inside, and Santana can only gasp as Brittany's hand wastes no time in wrapping around the shaft of the dildo strapped to her hips and pumping her fist down its length, finally putting pressure where she wants it and making her hips jerk forward in response.
"Fuck," Santana hisses, dropping her head to Brittany's shoulder as Brittany's hand continues to stroke the length of the dildo. She drops her eyes and catches just the faintest glimpse of Brittany's hand moving; she bites her lip and throbs.
"You're so good to me," Brittany breathes against the hinge of her jaw. "Showing up prepared because you knew how bad I'd need you inside me."
Brittany sucks on her earlobe, and Santana finally snaps. She hurriedly reaches forward and yanks Brittany's pants and underwear off, then hoists her onto the countertop, balancing her on the edge. Brittany barely has time to breathe before Santana's lowering her head to her wet, throbbing core, her velvet tongue slipping out to tease her hard clit before she sucks it into her mouth.
Crying out, Brittany bucks her hips up, tangling her fingers in dark hair as Santana's mouth works her into a trembling mess. Her stomach tightens, and she grips the edge of the countertop, bracing her feet on the cabinets below. Santana sucks her slowly, drawing her into her mouth, and Brittany moans loudly as her eyes meet Santana's brown ones, dark and smoldering with want. The heated look makes her clench hard, and she can see her wetness smeared all over Santana's plump lips and her own thighs.
Santana moans against slippery flesh, enjoying the taste of her girlfriend. She's surrounded by Brittany's heat, by Brittany's dripping arousal, and her chin and mouth are a sticky mess as she laps at Brittany's clenching entrance. When she feels Brittany pulling on her hair, she straightens up, and then she moans again as Brittany pulls her into a sloppy kiss, her tongue darting out to lick her own wetness from her lips.
"I need you to fuck me," Brittany pants, reaching down to guide the head of the dildo to her ready entrance. She's sitting too high for Santana to actually enter her beyond just the first inch, but watching the head of the dildo rub against Brittany's slick folds only serves to make her blood pound in her veins, and then Brittany slips down off the counter and sinks onto the dildo, and Santana braces her palms on the edge of the countertop as she watches Brittany take every inch. She knows Brittany's tight inside- she can feel the resistance, translated into pressure on her own clit, and she releases a shaky breath as their hips finally press flush and Brittany moans loudly above her.
Santana can't stop the way her hips begin to thrust up into Brittany's, especially when Brittany wraps a leg around her waist and arches her back. She leans forward and bites gently at Brittany's nipple through her shirt, feeling it already hard between her teeth. Her hips move faster, and then Brittany pushes forward, wrapping her other leg around Santana's waist and keeping her weight braced against the countertop.
Brittany's crying out each time the dildo parts her slick folds, each time she takes the entire length, and the hot sounds make Santana thrust harder and faster. She wants to feel Brittany fall apart.
But then Brittany pushes off the countertop, and Santana takes her full weight. She stumbles a little but doesn't fall, and Brittany's kissing her roughly, gasping in between, you feel so good inside me, baby and ugh, I'm so tight for you. Santana turns and steps into the kitchen table, laying Brittany down, scattering papers and something else that crashes to the floor loudly. Santana couldn't care less- not when she can really start to feel the friction from the new position, not with the way Brittany's heels are digging into her lower back, guiding her thrusts, not with the way Brittany's loud moans are echoing through the apartment, and not with the way Brittany's reaching up to tug on her own nipples through her shirt with one hand, her other stretching above her to grip the edge of the table and brace herself against Santana's thrusts.
"Fuck, San- fuck- yeah, just like that, baby, right there-"
"Right there, baby?" she demands, punctuating her sentence with a sharp thrust of her hips, and at Brittany's breathy confirmation, she hits that spot again, harder. "Is that where you want me to fuck you? You're so fucking tight, Brittany- ugh."
She pumps steadily, her palms pressing into the hard wood of the tabletop, and listens to the very audible sound of the dildo moving inside her girlfriend. She can feel her orgasm approaching at a measured, steady pace, but she knows, from the way Brittany's mouth has dropped open and the sound of her rapid breathing, that Brittany's not going to hold out that long. The thought makes her arousal spike and she ruts faster.
"I wanna feel you come, B," she pants, and Brittany chokes her name, reaching up to grip onto Santana's shoulders.
It only takes a few more sharp thrusts before Brittany's coming apart with a loud cry, arching off the table, her nails digging into Santana's shoulders even through her shirt. She shakes, her hips grinding up as her orgasm spreads through her, but Santana can't stop- she's so close to her own orgasm, she just needs that last push-
Groaning, she bites her lip and pulls out for a moment, then tugs Brittany up off the table and guides her to the couch. She pushes her over the arm, and Brittany moans as her cheek hits the couch cushion and her hands grip the edge of it for dear life.
Santana watches as she slowly guides the head of her dildo into Brittany from behind, loving the way Brittany pulls at it as she moves. She wishes she could feel the wet clasping of Brittany's insides, wishes she could know what it felt like to move inside her. Imagining it only makes her stomach tighten even further and she's that much closer to coming. When her hips meet Brittany's ass, she gasps at the delicious friction. The angle is perfect, the couch lower than the table so that Santana can get the full feeling, and the view of Brittany, bent over and spread beneath her, is almost too much to handle. She almost doesn't realize her hips are moving, until Brittany's loud whimper from the couch greets her ears.
"Does that feel good, baby?" she husks, bending down to kiss at Brittany's back as she pushes her shoulder up. She feels Brittany shiver under her lips, and lets her hands curl around and underneath to splay on Brittany's taut stomach as she humps her from behind like a dog, taking her pleasure from Brittany.
"You're so deep," Brittany pants against the couch cushion, her blue eyes shut in bliss. "I can feel every inch of you."
Santana whimpers. She's close. She can feel her orgasm approaching and knows another few thrusts will do it. She bites into Brittany's shoulder as she ruts her hips, the friction on her clit driving her to the edge.
"Fuck, I'm gonna come."
"Come inside me," Brittany tells her, and the image makes Santana finally hit her release. Her orgasm rips through her powerfully and she arches into Brittany, her hips pressing tight to Brittany's ass as she trembles with the shockwaves that reverberate through her.
Santana moans against Brittany's back- she can just barely feel the way Brittany's clenching around the dildo, the movement causing the dildo to rub against her. She squirms, feeling sensitive, and after a moment, pulls out, her legs weak as she slips the harness off and stumbles to the nearby recliner. She collapses in it, struggling to breathe, and shuts her eyes. Her head is spinning, and her aftershocks are still pulsing through her. She clamps her legs together, her whole body feeling overheated, but she wants Brittany against her- misses her nearness.
She opens her eyes and swallows as her gaze falls on Brittany, who has slipped the harness over her own hips and taken off her shirt and bra, gloriously naked except for the strap-on, which is still glistening with Brittany's own arousal. The sight makes her throb hard.
Especially when Brittany shoots her a predatory grin and says, "I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk."
Ohhh snap.
Okay so tomorrow, Brittany will have her revenge! ;) Stay tuned... haha
And review if you feel like it, but if not, well, I'm sure I'll hear from you eventually!
AND NOW A WORD FROM ~OFFICER SAFETY:
Wearing a strap-on under your clothes in public seems like a capital idea- IN FIC.
But I'm here to tell you, it really isn't. That strap-on is supposed to represent having a boner, so if you think about hiding a boner under your clothes, it's probably not that comfortable, right?
Not impossible, just- think about it before you try and stuff that thing in your pants and walk around where people can actually see you. In fact- practice walking around at home before you make a fool of yourself, and second-hand embarrass everyone who sees you. ;)
Just a thought!
PLAY SAFE AND STAY SAFE! :D
***story title from Saving Abel song of the same name