This story had been marked as complete, but then I had inspiration to write more. Still rated M, and this chapter is on the more descriptive side.
Sam was still asleep on his back when she woke the next morning. She's not exactly sore between her legs, but it feels different, there's a tingling. He hadn't been rough last night, but he'd clearly wanted her, had been determined, once things finally started in earnest, to have her. She didn't ache but she could feel that he'd been there.
Quinn's eyes widened when she saw the sheet tented. It was the morning, and she remembered an extremely awkward Health class where Coach Beiste had given Puck a detention for volunteering to give the class a real world demonstration of page 85. Quinn can't imagine that you can just sleep through one part of your body standing straight up on its own, but Sam looks completely relaxed; she supposes he's probably used to this. The textbook said it happened every night and morning.
Careful not to wake him, she slowly pulled the sheet back. She's only seen it in the dim light of a darkened bedroom and before that under water in her pool. She wants a better look.
It twitched as the sheet grazed the head. In the morning sunlight coming in from the window, the tip looks rosy pink. She noticed last night that he's circumcised, but now in the light, she can see a faint scar, a thin line around the shaft about halfway down. The only other one she's seen in person is Puck's, but Sam's is prettier.
She wants to put her mouth on it.
The thought makes her face go hot. She is not that kind of girl. She'd been president of the Celibacy Club. Well, she's not anymore. And suddenly she really wants to know what it'd feel like to have him filling her mouth. What does a boy even taste like? She'd tasted herself once, had felt curious and brave at the same time and licked her fingers, afterwards. Sam probably doesn't taste like that. But she could find out. She could lick it, just like a lollipop.
It would be rude, probably, to just do that to someone while they're sleeping. Maybe men have a different etiquette, but Quinn assumes that it would be presumptuous to just lick his penis without asking. But it's just standing there, flushed a hot pink and staring at her. Occasionally it twitches a little. It curves, just slightly, upwards and towards his stomach. This is definitely a pretty boy dick that matches his pretty boy face; it's gorgeous, like the rest of him. Yeah, she's gonna have to have it.
Quinn leaned forward and lightly kissed his lips, whispered his name.
He looks confused at first, but it obviously doesn't take long to realize that he's in his girlfriend's bed and she's naked. That almost certainly explains the grin.
"Last night was amazing," he said, pulling her to him. Sam doesn't seem to notice that the sheet's pulled back and he's doing his best impression of the Washington Monument.
He nuzzles into her neck, wraps his arms around her middle; he clearly wants to be sweet and loving, and that's great. She'll get to that in a minute.
Quinn pushed him back. "Can I suck it?"
Sam looks confused. In all honesty, Quinn's confused that she even wants this, let alone that she would say it out loud.
"I mean your," she nodded in the general direction of his lower half. "You know, I just want to see what it's like."
When it dawns on Sam that she's referring to one particular part of him, that particular part, his mouth falls open. The look on his face says that he's not going to question this, no matter how surprising it is to hear her ask.
"Oh my God, yes!" But then it's like he catches himself. "Um, I mean, if you want to, you can, sure." He kicked the sheets totally away; clearly he's totally behind this little whim of hers. "Do you want me to, like, lie down, or should I sit on the edge of the bed?"
"I don't know. What's the usual way?"
He doesn't know from experience, she's sure of that. Quinn thinks about asking him how they do this in porn, but she doesn't want to hear about her boyfriend watching that stuff. Academically, she knows he does, and that's fine, it's his business, especially considering that until last night he was getting nothing from her. But she doesn't want the details.
Sam ends up sitting on the edge of her bed, and Quinn positions herself on her knees between his legs. Well, there it is, staring at her. Hard and pink, pale down the shaft, pointing right at her, eager looking and ready to go. He's trimmed that area fairly low; she wonders if he's always done that or just did it when she invited him to stay over. Whichever, she's glad, because the idea of a hair in her mouth is somehow worse than a penis. It's a weird thought, but she notes that he has light, honey brown hair, without the lemon juice.
She closes her eyes and leans forward. It's a timid lick, she just barely touches the head with the tip of her tongue. Sam hisses. Quinn opens her eyes and sees his stomach clenched taunt. He tastes kind of salty.
A little late, she wonders if maybe a quick Google search would help, just the clarify the technique. You can find anything on Google. But she's already started; might as well just plow through and hope for the best. Another lick, another intake of breath from her boyfriend. There's the salty taste, but also hints of her soap from their shower last night, and maybe sweat. She might not be very accomplished in this area, but she's not hearing any complaints. He's whimpered her name twice already.
He bucks, just a little, when she closes her mouth around the head. She pushes her tongue against the slit and he squeaks. Sam's fingers push into her hair. She likes that. Her jaw's starting to get a little sore, but she likes the little noises he's making. Quinn can make it down to the circumcision scar, but further than that's too much, and she doesn't want to gag.
And, there are these balls against her chin. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined balls on her face, but they're attached to him, so she guesses they're not too bad. They're warm. One time at cheer camp Santana said that guys liked it if you put them in your mouth. Quinn doesn't know that she wants to do that. Sam seems happy with the current proceedings. And she knows she shouldn't be getting advice on sex with men from Santana, of all people.
"Quinn? I'm almost, ugh, shit, almost there."
His voice sounds like he's pleading, almost like he's in trouble. Quinn tilts her eyes and can see that his face is apple red.
She loves him, she really does. But she doesn't want that in her mouth. She goes down one more time, lets the tip touch the roof of her mouth and hears her name, warning, and then pulls away. She's quick about it and pumps him just once with her hand before he spurts on her chest.
He did that last night, too, but it had been muted by the water in the pool. Now, splashing against her skin, it's hot, searing almost. There's so much of it, she's glad she pulled away because she knows she would have almost certainly gagged, and that's probably not sexy.
Sam's whimpering some chant about her being amazing, and occasionally she hears something about "god." He falls back on the bed and she can watch his dick calm and sink down against his leg. It's even more flushed, if possible. She'd never really thought about it before, but it's such an interesting organ, the penis. Quinn can see herself devoting time in the future to further study.
She wipes off her chest and pulls on his Captain America t-shirt from the night before to go to brush her teeth. He didn't taste bad, but with everything wrapped up, it seemed like the thing to do. You couldn't go about your day with phallic breath.
He's all over her when she returns. Amazing and so hot and the bomb. Sam promises, sort of begs, actually, to return the favor, but it's only Saturday and they have until tomorrow evening before her mother returns. Quinn doesn't want to do everything all at once, though his proposition does pique her interest. It's something to look forward to tonight. Their relationship has gone from zero to sixty literally overnight. This is a big change from merely two days ago, when the most she'd let him do was dry hump her and then make him pray afterwards.
In his truck, he drives with his left hand and keeps his right arm across her shoulders. It's the same as they walk through the mall, his hand at the small of her back. Ever since she'd allowed him a second date he'd touched her like that, just small little nothings. It was probably his way of taking advantage of the only physical intimacy she'd allowed him. But it seems different now. Now it's clear that he wants people to know they're together. And that doesn't bother her.
"On Monday Mr. Schue's gonna tell us who we're rooming with for the trip to Regional's next week," Sam said, rubbing his foot against her ankle under the table in the food court. He's been staring at her with wide eyes since they'd left her house. He looks like a lovestruck deer in the path of an oncoming car. "I bet if I get Mike, and you room with Tina, they'd swap with us." His foot rubs up her calf. "We could be sneaky and switch after Mr. Schue goes to bed."
"Sex is all you're going to think about from now on, isn't it?"
"It was all I was thinking about before," he said, sticking his tongue out at her. "I just have a chance now."
She can't fault him. It wasn't like she'd enjoyed being a frigid ice queen. She definitely had needs, too. But an unplanned pregnancy could dampen even the most powerful urges. If she didn't trust Sam so implicitly, Quinn knows she wouldn't have taken such a risk by telling him that she was finally ready. She wouldn't have been ready if he'd ever pressured her, even a little. She'd known that their relationship wasn't dependent on her giving in. He said he'd wait for her, and he meant it.
He fulfills his promise from the night before and rents a rowboat in the park. It's hilarious when he has a hard time of keeping them from going in circles. "This is actually a lot harder than it looks." But she can see his arms bulging as he struggles with the oars, so she doesn't particularly care about their direction. Circles are fine. She's never been so physically attracted to anyone in her life as she is to him.
Sam calls his parents to make sure they're not at home. He gives them an update on the wonders of being a counselor at a church camp for ten year olds. Quinn doesn't like that he has to lie to his mom and dad so they can be together, but no parents in their right minds are going to let two teenagers in high school hang out with the door shut, let along spend the weekend in an empty house. But the coast is clear and they stop at his house to get his one suit and a tie from his dad's closet.
They drive an hour and a half to Columbus, because Lima doesn't actually have any restaurants nicer than Breadstix. But this place is crazy nice, and there's a shiver down her spine when the maître d' calls "Evans?" It's so freaking adult.
They get water because booze is out and Coke doesn't seem classy. But it's sparkling water, and she laughs when Sam gags and nearly chokes on the unexpectedly bitter taste. They share dessert, even though she didn't want to get it because this meal is seriously going to cost him an arm and a leg. But Sam insisted. "I'm taking you out for a night on the town, and right now Columbus is the best I can do." His hand touches hers across the table. "Next time it'll be Paris." He goes to restroom and Google tells her there's a Paris, Tennessee. But she'll go anywhere with him.
They hold hands and stroll through downtown Columbus. After paying for dinner and now parking, Quinn's pretty sure their future dates are going to consist of eating with his parents. But his mom makes fabulous lasagna, so that's fine. Sam gets way too excited at having his picture taken next to the world's largest gavel. It's an amazing night and she wishes they could stay, but no one's going to rent a hotel room to two teenagers, and she's pretty sure that Sam's officially broke now, anyway. He'd die before letting her pay. Just because it's him, that doesn't bother her. Even Betty Friedan needs a break, sometimes.
It's late when they get back to her house. Sam lets her out and parks his truck down the street, because you can't be too careful. There's an unspoken understanding that they're not going to make love tonight; they're tired and as nice as they've found this new side of their relationship, they don't have to constantly be clawing at each other to express how they feel. But it definitely is nice, and she's already thinking about tomorrow.
He's lying next to her, eyes on the ceiling. Quinn hopes they can sleep in his room sometime soon, because he has stars on the ceiling and she just wonders what that's like, to stare at the little glowing points with someone you love. God, her hormones must be going crazy. She's never sappy like this.
"Yesterday and today have been the best days of my life," Sam said.
"Because you finally got laid?" She's just kidding; she's in agreement with him.
"Well, yeah. But because I get to be this close to you." He turned on his side and kissed her. She's back in his t-shirt. He'd taken a picture and set it as his phone wallpaper. Quinn wants to protest because if his mom ever sees that, hell will look like a seaside resort compared to her reaction. But she'll get him to change it in the morning. Tonight they can just be together and not worry about anything outside this bed.
It's as secure as she's ever felt.
Please review and let know what you think! Thanks to everyone who reviewed the previous chapter!