A/N: I might have had offended some readers on the Miketana part. Sorry if you were uncomfortable reading that part, I was establishing their character hence it was a prologue. Didn't meant to offend you. I can't promise that there will be no Miketana sex though they were married couple after all. But if you're really interested, just read the story and if you are really into it, you could read in between the lines. Readers of Things Change knew all how I roll so they know how I write some of my ideas.
Boringsiot: Thank you for the kind words! I really appreciate it! Don't worry. I didn't put it as a Quinntana fic if I am not leaning towards them. But I really want to explore married life and having a third party so please forgive me for some Miketana parts.
Thug-of-War
Madrin, Spain - Mirasierra Suites Hotel (1st Day)
Santana just finished unpacking when she found herself staring at the site outside her hotel window with the white piece of paper in her hand.
"Gracias por hacer Madrid hermosa." (Thanks for making Madrid beautiful) Those words kept playing on her mind and she can't help but smile and feel the fluttering in her stomach. "Fuck Lopez, what's your problem?! You can't possibly…" She thought and was afraid to continue. "No! Shut up!" She grunted, crumpled the paper and threw it across the room. But not long after, she regretted her action and hurriedly picked up the piece of paper, straightened it out and for the nth time (she already lost count), she read it again:
"Esperanza esto podría servir de una apología del que miro fijamente. Yo no sabía que la señora española como usted podría sonrojarse tan con fuerza. Gracias por hacer Madrid hermosa." (Hope this could serve as an apology for my staring. I didn't know that Spanish lady like you could blush so hard. Thanks for making Madrid beautiful).
"What's wrong with you? You're straight! And for Fucks sake! You're married!"
Barcelona, Spain - Galeria Carles Taché (4th Day)
She wasn't really known to be a fan of art and all that jazz but being in Spain, she couldn't help but marvel at the different forms that was just within her reach. Everything in Spain was art and this awakened a dormant side of her. Her mother always bring her and Mike to museums when they were young and every time her father has a charity event, it was always in one of New York's finest gallery.
So, there she was, standing in front of a large painting, analyzing the intriguing scene before her eyes.
"Tristram and Iseult" she softly read the painting's title that was written on a card and placed at bottom of the painting.
"Es una pintura triste" (It's a sad painting) a female voice came beside her and it was an understatement to say that Santana was surprised to see the same blonde woman from Madrid standing inches away from her. The woman was intensely looking at the painting, and though Santana was startled and started to again feel the fluttering in her stomach, she played it cool and looked back to the painting.
Silently, the two of them stood side by side until the blonde woman started to speak again.
"Esta pintura inacabada representa a Tristram que abraza a su esposa, Iseult de Bretaña, quien, según la leyenda de Arthurian, él se casó después de su amante, La Belle Iseult, la hija del Rey Anguish de Irlanda, fue obligado a casarse con el tío de Tristram, el Rey Mark de Cornualles. La Belle Iseult es retratado en la izquierda del cuadro, que corre en los bosques que agarran una nota para su criada, Brangwaine, la cifra(figura) desnuda con su espalda girada, para entregar a Tristram. Se cree que la cifra(figura) abandonada a la derecha es Palomides, el amante no correspondido de La Belle Iseult." (This lost and unfinished painting depicts Tristram embracing his wife, Iseult of Brittany, who, according to Arthurian legend, he married after his lover, La Belle Iseult, the daughter of King Anguish of Ireland, was forced to marry Tristram's uncle, King Mark of Cornwall. La Belle Iseult is portrayed in the left of the picture, rushing into the woods clutching a note for her maid, Brangwaine, the nude figure with her back turned, to deliver to Tristram.)
The beautiful blonde women was so engrossed with her explanation that she didn't notice that Santana, with an awestruck look in her face, was now looking at her. Yeah, she didn't notice until she faced the Latina and seeing the look in her face made her giggle. If Santana blushed so hard the other day, then she must be as red as tomato at that very moment. The stranger stopped giggling but didn't remove the smile on her face as she looked back at the painting while Santana followed her gaze.
"Sabe usted cuál la parte triste es?" (Do you know what the sad part is?)
The stranger asked and Santana was shocked that the blonde actually acknowledged her existence. But before she could answer, and even shake her head since she didn't really know what the sad part of everything is, the blonde answered her own question.
"Se cree que el triángulo amoroso representado en esta pintura refleja al artista, Burne-Jones, para poseer la confusión emocional entonces él creó esto. Él estuvo enredado con su modelo a quién intento de suicidio en brincando en el Canal del Regente cuando él trató de terminar su relación. El asunto siguió hasta que Burne-Jones finalmente lo suspendiera para salvar su matrimonio con su esposa, Georgiana. (The love triangle depicted in this painting is believed to reflect the artist's, Burne-Jones, own emotional turmoil at the time he created this. He had a passionate affair with his model who attempted suicide by jumping into the Regent's Canal when he tried to end their relationship. The affair continued until Burne-Jones finally called it off to salvage his marriage to his wife, Georgiana.)
Santana again looked at the blonde and can't help but smile and bit her lips when she realized that the stranger was also looking at her. The blonde woman held her gaze and didn't notice that Santana was fidgeting with her engagement ring and wedding band, a habit she developed for the past years when she felt nervous.
Sabe usted cuál la parte más triste es? (Do you know what's the saddest part?) She again asked and Santana just shook her head this time.
"El cuadro tiene un tema de amante y esposa fuerte, con la amante marginada al lado. Esto da la perspicacia en los sentimientos del artista sobre su vida personal entonces. Puede estar bien por motivos personales que él lo abandonó." (The picture has a strong wife and mistress theme, with the mistress marginalized to the side. This gives insight into the artist's feelings about his personal life at the time. It may well be for personal reasons that he abandoned it."
And before Santana could react or even open her mouth to say anything, the blonde cut her.
"Well. I guess we can't always get what we want. Can we?" And just like that, the stranger turned her back and walked across the sea of people.
Barcelona, Spain: Miramar Hotel (6th Day)
Quinn was sitting by the bar when she saw her for the third time (it was actually the fourth time: she saw her for the first time when she was in the airport). She was sitting on the dark side of the packed restaurant and seemed to be on her own. She was debating if she should approach her but decided not to, at least at first, since she was being a good best friend. She was in the hotel for Rachel Berry's impromptu concert, well, she was actually in Spain for the her Broadway show which was running across Spain for 3 months now and tonight was their supposedly last night in Spain hence Rachel would just like to have fun. And by fun, she meant singing in front of the crowd. She's Rachel Fucking Berry for pits sake!
She was so focused on what her best friend was singing and only noticed the drink and piece of paper slid by the bartender on her table after Rachel finished the song.
"Perdóneme?" She asked for the bartender's attention but failed. Since Rachel was on her break from singing, the bar was now crowded. She then took the piece of paper, read the note and giggled at the messy yet still legible handwriting that met her eyes.
"Es una mierda para ser un gran fan de una Rachel Berry. Siempre podemos obtener lo que queremos, podemos? Aquí es una bebida que le ayudarán a ahogarse en la tristeza. es broma. Cheers, extraño." (It sucks to be a big fan of one Rachel Berry. We cannot always get what we want, can we? Here's a drink to help you drown in sorrow. Kidding. Cheers, stranger).
She can't help but laugh and look towards the direction of the only person who could possibly give it to her. And there she was, in all her perfection, looking directly at Quinn's eye. With a smirk on her face, she raised her wine glass urging Quinn to pick up the drink she had given her, and when Quinn raised her glass, they motioned for a toss and drink their respective drink without breaking their gaze from each other. And both women can't help but blush.
Ugh. Those eyes!
When she noticed that Rachel was back on stage, Quinn broke their staring contest and went back to watching her best friend perform.
Rachel's impromptu performance has long ended but the hotel restaurant was still packed with tourist and patrons. The Broadway star was already retreating back to her room since they have an early flight the next morning. However, Quinn decided to stay for awhile telling her best friend that she'll just finish another round with some locals she met and befriended in the bar but the truth was, she was just waiting for a chance to speak with the Latina, who on a phone conversation at that very instance.
"She's married, Quinn. Be careful." Rachel warned her knowingly and Quinn just gave her a confused look. "I can read your mind, remember? Don't tell me I didn't warn you. You've been yapping about her for a week now." Rachel gave her a pointed look and with that, she hugged her friend and walked away.
"Well. Guess someone got more than just an autograph tonight." A husky voice broke her thought and when she look around, she saw the Latina sitting on the stool beside her.
"Who said that I'm a fan of the hobbit?" Quinn asked with a playful voice as she finished her drink and raised her two fingers to the waiter signaling for another.
"Aren't you?"
"No."
"Well. You're ogling says otherwise."
"Says the one who had been staring at us for quite awhile now,"
"And says the one who had admitted that she was a creeper,"
"I did not,"
"I still have the note. So don't deny it."
She kept the note. Quinn thoughtand with that, she can't help but feel hot and she knew she's blushing. This was confirmed when she saw herself on the mirror across the bar and Santana can't help but enjoy the scene.
"God. All this time I thought you're a local! I might have had wrung all Spanish words left in my memory just so I could talk with you." Quinn uttered to change the subject and almost kicked herself when she noticed that she just told the Latina how desperate she was to talk with her. She's screwed.
"Again. Such a creeper," she joked.
"I'm sorry, I didn't –" But before Quinn could finish Santana cut her off.
"I was just kidding. It was actually sweet of you." She said and this just made Quinn feel hotter than before. "I didn't know one can blush as hard as you could," she continued and giggled. "But just so you know, you're Spanish sucks!"
"Says the Local."
"Well, I'm half Puerto Rican. No. I am actually German." Well, she really was a quarter German. "I'm a CIA agent who learned several languages, though."
"And I am the US president's bastard daughter,"
And they both laughed and were just cut off when their drinks arrived.
"Cheers, stranger"
"To Fate,"
"To Fate,"
They drunk their shots and enjoyed the night with the people around them.
"So. Stranger, what's your story," Quinn asked after several drinks and she could feel that the alcohol is starting to get into her. Rachel will kill me.
"And what made you think I've got a story? Santana asked back.
"Everybody has a story,"
"And so what's yours?"
"I asked first,"
"Well. I don't have."
"Okay. Then I will tell you your story,"
Santana just laughed but stopped when she realized that the blonde was serious.
"You're really something,"
"Well, aren't you interested with what I came up with?"
"Humor me,"
"So…" Quinn started but paused.
"So?"
Quinn took another shot before she continued her story. She'll take her chance.
"Well, you're a young woman who is married to a very busy dancer who was on tour with some famous singer."
Married. That caught Santana's attention but she let Quinn continue since she, herself, was curious on how the story would turn out.
"You were high school sweethearts and moved to the same city for college. You went to an ivy league school since judging from your designer clothes and shoes, your family is loaded. You went to medical school, again judging from you handwriting," Quinn giggled but continued. "…while she went to some school for the arts or whatever you call it."
High school sweethearts. Ivy league school. Designer clothes and shoes. Medical school. Handwriting. Wait! Did she just say that I have an awful handwriting? And did she say 'she'? But before she could correct her, the blonde continued seemingly amused with her own story.
"You were so in love. Just like what was expected, and even though you're just on your 2nd year at med school, you accepted her proposal and less than a year after, you were married."
Santana is starting to have fun and can't help but be amaze with the women in front of her. God. She's a kin observer.
"However, lately you feel so lost. You're married for years now and both your family are already pressuring you to start a family. Your wife also wanted it too, but the problem was, you aren't ready yet. You have a career waiting for you and knowing how busy a new attending physician could be, you just can't bend to your wife's wishes. This started a tension between the two of you and right before she left for a world tour, you had a major fight. So here you are, with a stranger, in the beautiful city of Barcelona."
It hit Santana hard but one word really bothered her. Wife. "She thought I'm gay"
She was so flabbergasted that Santana didn't notice Quinn's conclusion of the story until she heard her companion's giggling.
"So, how did you find it?" Quinn asked with a smirk on her face.
"Not bad," she lied.
"Seriously, that's all you have to say?"
"Waiting to be praised, stranger?" Santana teased her as she placed her elbow on the table and propped her chin on her hand. That's the only time Quinn noticed that the wedding band and engagement ring she saw the other day in the museum were nowhere to be found. Santana looked at her with a smirk on her face as she waited for Quinn's answer.
Are those eyes what I think they were? Is she flirting with me?
"Well, I guess 'not bad' would do," she said as she took another swig from her drink and looked at the merry people around them.
Silence.
"It was actually good." Santana admitted. "So, why are you here in Spain, stranger?" Santana suddenly asked.
"For Rachel Berry's show," She said seriously but Santana seemed to take it as a joke.
"Seriously, why are you here?"
"I was serious,"
"So you are really a diehard fan?"
"No! I-," But before Quinn could protest, Santana cut her off.
"It's okay. Don't be shy, now. I get it. She's great."
"So why are you here?" Quinn asked back instead, after moments of silence between the two of them.
"I thought we are sticking with your story?"
"So you're telling me I was right?"
"Maybe. Maybe not." She said with flirtatious tone.
"She is really married, isn't she?" All this time Quinn had been silently praying that those rings were just product of her imaginations. Tonight, when she looked for it in her fingers, she seemed to be wearing none, it gave her hope. But when she started telling her the story she created, she could see by her expressions that she may or may not hit home. But this didn't stop her from hoping especially now that the Latina seemed to be flirting back with her.
"So tell me stranger, what's your story?" Santana asked.
"I already told you yours. Wouldn't it be just fair if you tell me mine?"
"Well, look who is being a smart ass now?"
"I try,"
"I am not good at storytelling,"
"And you think I am?"
"I might offend you,"
"Unless you're thinking that I am a stripper or anything that may get me into jail, then I wouldn't be offended."
Santana laughed and it seemed to be music to Quinn's ear. "Oh. I wonder how she'll sound… Stop it right there you perv!" She thought.
"Okay. So. Here it is." She said and drunk another shot. "Well you are actually a big fan of Rachel Berry and you have been in each and every Broadway show she has had."
"That was accurate except for the big fan part," you denied to yourself.
"When you heard that they will tour Spain and since you just finished school, PhD by the way since you look old to be a college student…" Santana stopped when she realized how bad it sounded and saw the glare Quinn is giving her. "No. I meant mature enough," she immediately corrected. "Since you just finished school, you asked your father for this Trip for your graduation present. And being her daddy's little girl, your father obliged with just a blink of an eye and from then on you followed Rachel Fucking Berry on every stop of her tour."
You laughed at the bitchy tone she made when she uttered Rachel's name.
"But tonight was her last night in Spain and when you learned that she'll be performing in this hotel, you booked here days before. You took your chance and hopelessly waited like any fan would do. And girl, this was really proving to be your lucky night since before heading up to her room, Rachel Fucking Berry noticed you and walked towards your direction. And ever the conceited star that she was, she sensed that you're her number one fan, so aside from giving you an autograph, she gave you a warm hug but you were disappointed that she has to cut it short since she really have to go up to her room. Still high from tonight's events and still savoring Berry's embrace, you decided to stay and have more drinks as you enjoy your last night in Spain until a stranger, who you've been creeping for days now when you're not busy stalking Rachel, finally came up to you and offered you company before you actually lose it." Santana ended with a smirk.
"WOW!" Quinn uttered, still in shock. "That was actually…"
"Accurate?"
"No. I was going for creative."
"You asked for it."
"Not good at story telling huh?"
"I try,"
Quinn laughed. "I realized two things from your story though. One. You actually think that I am creeper and have a habit of stalking people. Two. You're not the biggest fan of Rachel Fucking Berry," she mocked Santana.
And the Latina just laughed.
"As much as I would like to keep you company, I think I have to head back to my room. You were actually right when you said that it was my last night in here," Quinn said with apologetic face and saw the disappointed face on the Latina's face.
"Well, I guess this is goodbye then." Santana said as she stood up to give the stranger a hug – which she had never done before. "It's nice to meet you, stranger." She said and engulfed Quinn in a friendly embrace.
"Nice to meet you too, Stranger." She said and stepped back. She then walked towards the counter and paid the bill for their drinks.
"You're staying?" Do you want to come up to my room? - was the question Quinn was dying to ask. Santana just nodded and gave her a smile. "Good night, then. By the way, don't worry about your drinks, I got it." And before the Latina could protest, Quinn was already on her way out the restaurant.
-S-
Upper East Side, New York (Present)
Despite the recent development on her relationship with her husband, Santana would still wake up at three in the morning, drenched in cold sweat and achingly empty between her thighs. Mike was asleep next to her, snoring lightly the way he does with his mouth half open, one arm flung over his eyes. For a minute, she lay there in their bedroom, watching the Orange County horizon outside their big bay window. The sheets twist around her legs, and suddenly she can't stand to be in bed with his husband – she felt dirty. She tossed the sheets back, sit up, and put her head in her hands. Her dreams are coming back to her: hot, twisted images of the blonde woman she spent most of her vacation with. She cannot be considered her lover but still, her guilt floods her, dull and paralyzing in her chest. Mike is a good husband, he takes good care of her and genuinely loves her but lately they were both so distant that she felt utterly alone. It's like they were two separate entities, occupying the same space in parallel universes.
They were best friends before they even became who they were now, or so what people expected since their parents were best friends. Edward Chang was Fernando Lopez' roommate in Harvard and they were both aspiring to be politicians. When Edward started dating Valerie Sy, who later on became Mrs. Chang, he introduced Fernando to Valerie's med school best friend, Gloria Carson and from then on, they all became good friends until both became couples. Edward and Valerie married first and two years later, Fernando and Gloria followed their footsteps. While Valerie and Gloria are finishing their residency, Edward and Fernando were busy campaigning for whoever in the Lopez clan is running. Yes, Santana came from a family of politician – and not just politicians, they were Republicans and the new Kennedy. When Valerie finally became an attending physician, they decided that it is the right time to start a family. Though Gloria postponed any plan for future Lopez baby since her father, Ben Carson, was in a hurry to have a successor in his practice, it didn't stop the Lopez side of family from pressuring her to start their own. And so, just months after the Changs announced that they were expecting, Gloria called Valerie and with a squeal, she broke her great news: she was expecting too. When they learned that Gloria is on labor, the Changs visited the Lopez's with their 4-month old son, Michael, and as soon as they saw the new parents with their bundle of joy, they were already planning the future of their babies: they will be best of friends, they will be studying in the school, they will be doctors or politicians in the future, and they will marry and give them grandchildren and the scary part is, they were all thrilled about the idea.
And so, unaware of the life that was laid out in front of them, Santana and Mike became best friend – it's not like they were given a choice though. They spent most of their childhood together and they practically grew up together. Both their family albums are filled with their photos and they have clothes in each other's house until Santana started to developed her "secondary sexual characteristics", as what her mother would like to put it. Santana grew up to be the beautiful and elegant women her parents expected her to be. Being the teenage daughter of the New York City Mayor and granddaughter of Ben Carson, Santana's life has always been under the radar of body guards, her father's PA's and even paparazzi. She is far from being a celebrity, but every time her father is running for an office, the focus of media was always on her – as if she was a ticking time bomb who was only seconds away from showing her rebellious side. Santana was indeed a rebellious teenager, but Mike was always there to keep her grounded. She was the HBIC in her school even she was just a freshman. She would constantly get into fight but before any teacher could send see her and send her into the Head Master's office, Mike was always on time to stop her fights and shove whoever is Santana's latest prey. She first had sex at the age of 14 and it wasn't with Mike. She lost her virginity to some popular guy in school who has been following her around like a lost puppy for months. After that incident, the guy showed up in school with black eyes, broken lips and a missing tooth. What made it more confusing was, the guy kept avoiding her like a plague and he even pleaded for her to stay away. It wasn't until she saw the wounded hands of her best friend while he was tutoring her with calculus when she put two and two together. From then on, everything changed between them. Santana was now well aware of Mike's supposedly hidden feelings for her and she noticed just about every simple but sweet gesture Mike does which she was so oblivious to see before. Mike would lie to her parents and cover for her every time she decides to go out and party like there's no tomorrow. He would stay sober while she gets drunk just so they won't need a driver and risk being caught. Mike would patiently tutor her with her calculus since her parents expect too much from her but she's too proud to ask her father for a professional tutor. And at some point, Mike volunteered to stay with her at all times, just so to convince Mr. Lopez that Santana doesn't need a body guard. Santana wasn't blind and she is anything but naïve. She was well aware that what Mike's doing was not longer what a normal best friend would do and she was also well aware of her parent's fondness of him. "Michael, what will we do without you," "Oh. You're heaven sent Michael," "Santana. Why don't you stop sleeping around and make Michael your boyfriend instead?" – And the list goes on. On her defense, she actually thought that he is good looking and sweet guy. She started to notice and see Mike in a different way, and when Mike finally got the balls to ask her to be his prom date, she didn't think twice and said yes. And before the night ends, for the first time since she grew her boobs, Santana was laying naked under the very familiar Star Wars sheet with an equally naked Mike by her side. And the rest was history.
She has always felt home with Mike and she never felt safer with anyone else… until she met her.
Maybe a shower will help her sleep.
-S-
Barcelona, Spain: Miramar Hotel (6th Day)
An hour passed since the blonde woman, whose name she never go to ask, said goodbye to her. She already downed her last shot and was about to get up from the stool when the bartender gave her a slip of paper.
De javu. She thought.
She didn't have to ask who it was from. The familiar neat and intricate handwriting confirmed it. It was from the stranger.
Hey!
(Oh God. You don't know how relieved I am that I don't have to write this in Spanish).
So stranger, you actually thought our story already ended. Well here's my take on it (I am a sucker for spin off). So there you are alone in a bar and your stranger friend just left you while here I am in my room thinking of the beautiful woman I left downstairs. I was packing for my early flight tomorrow when I suddenly realized that fuck it, what's another week or two in Barcelona? No one deserved to be left alone in this City. So I called a friend and cancelled my flight. Now with my clothes back in the closet, a hotel room reserved for another week, and my daddy's bank account, I am ready to forget about Rachel Fucking Berry and my PhD and spend yet another week in Spain, with a complete stranger. While there you are, about to head back to your room and think of how fuck up life could be. But suddenly, you realized that you only have weeks left for yourself – without your family, without your commitments, without your wife, without your problems – so why not live the most of it? And then you thought of the stranger you met and thought of asking her to stay with you for the rest of your trip. We can't always get what we want. But at least, try. There's no harm in asking, right?
So, what do you think, stranger?
Without thinking twice, Santana bolted out of the restaurant. But before she could realize that she didn't know exactly where to go or where to find the blonde women, the answer came before the question. There she was, sitting in the lobby and immediately smiled as soon as she saw the Latina, who seemed to be out of breath.
"Stay with me for the rest of my trip." Santana asked (well, more of demanded) as Quinn approached her. But instead of hearing an answer from the blonde, she was caught off guard when she felt her lips crashing on hers.
-M-
Upper East Side, New York (Present)
She had never done it with a woman before her, except for the random make out session they have had during high school, one time during the initiation in their college's secret club and random drunken hook ups when she was back into the dating world during the time she and Mike had a major break up. Nevertheless, she was always at the receiving end before. But Quinn seemed to be blessed with her mouth especially that night – their last night in Spain. They were in their shared hotel bedroom, and fucked until they both couldn't take it anymore. It wasn't their first but Santana knew that it was the last knowing that the next day, they will be on their separate ways. For Santana, it was a night full of firsts. They fucked several more times just for good measure, making sure they both screamed and moaned and sobbed before they finally collapsed. And for the first time in her entire life, Santana took Quinn, whose name still was a mystery to her, from behind. And now, all Santana could think about was a shower because she felt so dirty and disgusted of herself every time she wakes up in her wet dreams with her sleeping husband beside her. She turned the hot water on, stepped in, and scrubbed her entire body vigorously.
As hot water cascades down her back, she realized that this idea was a flop. Images float unbidden to her mind, and her nipples started to tighten. One hand slides guiltily down between her thighs, and she started to tease her lips apart as she closed her eyes. They've done it in the hotel shower. Her fingers explore deeper into her drenched folds, and she slid around in a rhythm that soon has her shuddering. She felt her pussy clenched around her fingers, and relief came finally. The water is edging towards cold, and she wondered how long she'd been in the shower. Her eyes were closed to rinse her hair and she didn't notice the bathroom door opened.
-S-
Barcelona, Spain: Miramar Hotel (14th Day)
Santana could feel her without opening her eyes. She stepped into the shower with her, and instantly her body responded. As tired as she was from the previous night, she wanted her – she was aching to feel her again and prove to herself that this wasn't a mistake and she was not just a figment of her imagination. Despite everything that has happened, Quinn, whose name is still unknown to Santana, always elicits this response and Santana doesn't even know where it comes from – perhaps that's because she instantly made a connection with her – she tried to reason out. She finished what she was doing and opened her eyes to look up at the blonde's lustful eyes. The blonde was taller compared to Santana's toned yet slim body but she had this look in her face as if Santana has her eating on her palms. Rivulets of water sluiced down her chest and stomach and that's the only time she noticed that she was oh so naked and indeed, she was real. Suddenly Santana could feel the heat burning between her thighs.
Not waiting for the blonde woman, Santana reached and started the water and turned around to kiss her passionately with her tongue meeting hers. She wrapped her arms around her neck while Quinn held her on the small of her back and with another hand gripping the back of her neck. Both their arousal was readily apparent. Santana's nipples were erect as she rubbed herself against her chest. They pop out towards hers, as she increased the friction generated from their closeness. Their kisses quickly deepened and Quinn playfully pulled her lips towards hers. Quinn started to trail kisses on her jaw and breathlessly nibbled against her ear. "You can't get enough of me, can you?" She cockily asked.
Only gaining a moan as an answer, Quinn then started to give her forceful kisses along her neckline, which will certainly leave marks just like the other nights when they fuck senseless. She went back to Santana's lips and after several more deep kisses, she stepped back. "Don't stop," Santana begged and cupped her breasts in her palms, presenting them for Quinn's attention and the blonde can no longer resist the urge to fondle and kiss her sensitive nipples. Quinn's mouth then travels across her chest, where her tongue teasingly circles Santana's nipples. The Latina's chest heaves as first contact with her mouth is made. Quinn kissed the perimeter of each breast, working from one to the other. Encouraged by Santana's moans, her teeth gently bite her flesh, leaving her weak-kneed. Her lips take hold of Santana' nipples while her tongue encouraged their erectness. Love bites cause Santana to coo with pleasure as she held her breasts together for the blonde's tongue to capture both her nipples in her mouth and Santana purred with delight as she sucked them in.
As Santana pushed her body towards hers, Quinn knew the Latina's level of arousal is reaching new heights and she is eager to see how high they can go. It has just been a week since the first time they have had sex, and every night Santana seemed to be a revelation to her. Santana is a very sexual person; after nights of being with her, there no doubt about that. And though Quinn seemed to be a shy at first glance, Santana could attest that she is anything but shy when they're on their hotel bed.
Sensing Santana's growing and impatient desire, Quinn decided to take a direct route down her sickenly toned body which always got her addicted. Traveling down from her breasts, she left a trail of caresses and kisses across caramel chest and stomach. On her knees, Quinn reached the crest of Santana's pleasure zone. Lifting one leg slightly, she mouth kisses around Santana's inner thighs and slowly, she worked her way along the top of her thigh to the knee. Once there, she mouth moved slightly inward and began a return route toward the junction of Santana's thighs. Skirting her sweet spot once again, Quinn moved along the thigh of her other leg in a similar manner as if she was worshiping every skin in her body. Twice more she took this trip along her legs, each time approaching closer and closer to the center of her lust.
With each passing journey her body responds as if starved for the blonde's touch. Unashamed, she pressed her womanhood to her face as she passed by, her body completely open as if it was an unwrapped gift. Quinn saw the glistening of Santana's lips, moist with anticipation, inviting her for further exploration. This wasn't the first time that she went down on her. The first time was right after they met again at the bar in Marimar Hotel.
Quinn continued kissing and licking, slowly working her way toward their goal. Santana's hip pushed forward, in search of her teasing tongue. Her mouth moves away from her each time, only to return and tease again. Finally, to satisfy Santana's impatient longing, Quinn took hold of her ass cheeks and pulled her closer. Together they adjusted their bodies so that Santana's wet, swollen desire is right before her hazel eyes.
Santana let out a long, rasping moan at the first contact of her lips on her lips. She allowed her weight to rest on her open mouth and as Quinn extended her tongue, she began probing her slit and lapping at her dripping core. Her tongue was like a soft spoon, she dragged it along the length of her opening, savoring the sweet taste of her juices. She simply loved her smell and her taste. As Santana held the blonde hair in her hands, Quinn gave her long deliberate licks along her crevices which made her toss her head back and squirm her body in delight.
Slightly shifting her body, Santana placed her clit on the tip of her tongue. Eager to return the pleasure she gave her the other night, Quinn begin an assault on the centerpiece of her lust. She took the bud lightly between her lips, rolling the roughness of her tongue across this bundle of her nerves and as she gently pull on it, her wetness started to drench the blonde's face.
Alternating her approach, Quinn dipped her tongue far inside Santana and then returned to circle her clit and lick her sex lips. Lapping and tonguing, she continued to coax her toward her climax. Around and around she drove his tongue, licking, sucking, teasing, rolling, and tasting her flowing sex. Quinn wanted Santana to come on her mouth. She wanted to feel her walls tremble with pleasure, closing in around her tongue.
Santana's breathing became rapid and Quinn can sense her orgasm fast approaching. She tongued her with urgency, concentrating on Santana's clit as she rocked her body uncontrollably against her face. Her body is shuddering, and she struggled to maintain contact. As she near the edge, Quinn's hands take hold of the Latina's hips and held her tightly in place while her kisses deliver their final offering.
Santana's body shivered as she reached her climax, wave upon wave of pure satisfaction. Her hands cupped the sides of Quinn's head, keeping her mouth and tongue centered on her lust. As her body trembled uncontrollably, the flow of her wetness overwhelms Quinn with desire. She eagerly continued lapping and licking her, attempting to gather as much of her juice as possible. She pressed her mouth over her, hungrily sucking on her as her orgasm slowly subsides. Finally assured her climax is complete, she rested her head in the warm triangle of her crotch.
-M-
Upper East Side, New York (Present)
Santana came down her high and as she looked down and saw Mike's head were resting on her sex. All she could see were strands of black hair but as Mike lifted his head to look at her with lust in his eyes, all she could see was her – and the whole time Mike was doing her in the shower, she was thinking about her nights with her and this made her even dirtier than before. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" She screamed inside her head.
After a minute or two, her still shaking body slid down to the shower floor to join Mike. Between gasping breaths, she kissed his lips, his face, and his body as he tried to erase the memory of the blonde woman who made her question her sexuality and most of all, her love for her husband. Her hands roam over Mike, as she tried to picture his toned abs and masculine body inside her head instead of the soft curvy body of a woman. Mike was oblivious to her dilemma and his body seemed to be very much excited for her touch and eager for more. Without saying a word, his lust-filled eyes convey his desire: he wanted to be inside her and just what a wife was expected to do, Santana is willing to give her body to him just to prove to herself, that she love Mike, he still turns her on and she don't need to picture a certain blonde just to get her high and excited.
Standing up, Santana placed her feet as wide apart as she can in the shower. Bent at the waist, she grabbed hold off the faucet handles for support. For Mike, the most pleasant sight came into view between her legs and his engorged cock twitched with desire. Holding his length in hand, he moved up behind her wife as he rub the tip of his cock along Santana's slit for several times, coating it with her cum.
"Holy Fuck!" She grunted.
A jolt of pleasure flows through Santana's body and she can't help but picture herself that night, when she was taken from behind by another woman – returning the pleasure that she had given her. They were both so aroused that even this simple action causes both of them to moan with lust – but unbeknownst to Mike, Santana is picturing another woman's tongue in her slit instead of his cock. She wanted to stop, she wanted to ran and remove every inch of her skin, but she was so aroused that she just let herself drown into the memories of a certain blonde. He continued teasing her for a few strokes more, until his own desire forces him to slip himself inside his folds. Slowly, he pushed forward and slid easily into her warm, wet confines. Instantly, Santana felt her vagina convulse around him, squeezing his member tightly. Her body again shudders with pleasure, as yet another orgasm follows upon the last. Mike paused briefly, allowing her body to adjust to the size of his shaft. She looked back at him and all she could see are those hazel eyes that aroused her so easily and all Mike could see was a look that tells him that she wanted to be fucked. Holding her hips steadily, he began the rhythm which they both used to enjoy so much. The slap of his skin against hers provided their soundtrack. Mike's balls spanked against her with each thrust. After just a few moments, Santana was muttering unintelligibly and the only thing clear is her insatiable lust. She's thankful that she didn't know the name of her trip companion because she's beyond sure, that if she ever knew her name, she'd be screaming it by now.
Each time he pulled his cock out, her folds gripped him tightly and provided new stimulation for her clit. To keep some semblance of control, Mike slowed their pace. He withdraw until only his head remained inside her, he waited for a second, and then reverse direction and plunge back into her warmth. From his vantage point, he had the pleasure of watching his length travel in and out of her body. Even in the wet shower, his cock is glistening with her moistness. Mike could see her sticky lips clinging to his shaft as he pulls away from her insides and the sight of his hard cock wrapped by her flesh brings him closer to the edge.
Leaning forward, he reached for her breasts and cupping her breasts from behind, he teased her erect nipples between his fingers. As he tweaked her buds, his cock continued to fully fill her wetness. He can feel her thrusting back against him, eager to meet his movement. Her insides tighten around him while his hands left her breasts and travel across her stomach to her swollen pussy. Her fingers explored as he started searching for her clit. Immediately after he found her clit, he began massaging her quicker towards orgasm. He matched the actions of his fingers to the thrusting of their hips, pushing them closer to a shared climax with the hot flow of water from the shower splashing across their back, running down their spread legs.
Santana realized that she can't get rid of the blonde's image no matter how hard she tried. She began pushing herself harder and faster back onto his cock but suddenly, she felt so wrong and the guilt was eating her out. And before one of them could reach their high, Santana halt her thrusting and with a strangled voice, she asked Mike to stop. Mike, still very much aroused, didn't seem to hear her and continued pushing inside her.
"Mike, stop." She tried again but he seemed to be reaching his peak that he's not even bothered by Santana's pleas. "Stop. Please just stop!" She screamed as she slapped his hand that were holding his hips and gripped the other one that was inside her. But before she could remove it, Mike pushed deeper and held her tighter.
"I'm close, Babe." He moaned and Santana couldn't move underneath him. With her eyes closed, tears started to form on her eyelids and she can't help but bite her lips due to pain. Mike felt his balls tighten as they get ready to release his cum into her. He moved faster until he reached his ultimate high. He simply cannot possibly fuck her any faster. And with an animal-like scream, he gave his final thrust up her sex and he's sure, his prick extends as far inside her as it can. His balls tighten and released the first jet of cum inside her and her orgasm hits as she felt his cum paint her inner walls. Her legs started to shake uncontrollably, and he tightened his grip on her waist to hold her up. With each pulse of his cum, Mike can feel the grip of her walls clinching his flesh.
The once-warm water has begun to cool, but it has done nothing to quell Santana's feeling of disgust, if anything, she felt worse. Somehow, she felt violated and this scared her – it was Mike, her husband, her best friend and her home. She shouldn't be feeling this way but she did. Reluctantly, Mike removed his cock from her, allowing her to stand upright. But with a shaking body, Santana knelt and slid down to the shower floor with her back against Mike.
Oblivious to what was happening; Mike slid down beside her and noticed that Santana was shivering. Clueless about her wife's struggling minutes ago, Mike tried to comfort her and when he was about to wrap her in an embrace, Santana flinched and curled further away from Mike. "Please, just leave me alone." She said with a small pleading voice and this broke Mike's heart into knew. Mike knew, from that very moment, that they are far from okay and what scared him most was that he really didn't know how to fix it.
-Q-
Santana got the abortion months ago. She was late for a month and being the doctor that she was, she knew what it could possible mean. So when the pregnancy test she conducted on herself (well, she doesn't trust pregnancy kits. That and the fact that she like to complicate every single thing) turned positive, the first thing she thought was the possible halt in her career. And that was the first sign that she really is not into it at that very moment and believe her when she say that she really felt bad about it. She just finished her residency and was the youngest and newest attending physician in the Neurosurgery Department. Having the baby, Santana knew that it will put everything she has worked for on hold. And so when she told an excited Mike about her plan, (Abort the baby now. Wait for another couple of years until her job in the department is stable. Then start a family), everything turned upside down. Mike knew from day one that Santana is a career woman and is passionate about her work. Some think that she was forced to be on the medical field (That or be the next Senator Lopez or Chang), but she really wanted to follow her grandfather's footstep. But what Mike didn't know was she was too dedicated to her job that she is willing to kill their child.
"You don't understand because you are a guy!" Santana shouted when they had another argument just the day before her scheduled abortion. Santana just got home from a long shift in the hospital when he found Mike on their bar, holding what seemed to be a glass whisky on his hand. He didn't like the taste of whisky. He hated it!
"Don't play that card on me, Santana! I am looking out for my child who does not have an actual say in this one!" Mike shouted back. "Just think about what our parents will say about this!"
"You are not going to tell them!"
"Seriously! Where's your soul?" And that was a low blow, and Mike knew he hit her hard. Seeing the dejected look in Santana's eyes, Mike tried to reach out for her but was met with Santana's slap.
The next morning, Santana left for the hospital without Mike. And with Kurt's company, she went through the abortion without her family knowing it.
They started to have major fallout after that until Santana decided to take a vacation that Mike offered her. Mike blamed her at first; it was her ambition which led her to get rid of their supposedly first born child after all. He was livid and confused while she was looking for some compassion and understanding. Mike thought that the time and space she's giving her would eventually help them fix their marriage, but he didn't know that this will only break Santana apart. Weeks after she left, Santana went back, not only with a tanner skin, but feeling more lost and detached than ever. Just as when Mike started to cut down his office hours so that he could focus on his wife, Santana began to take late shifts and rounds in the hospital. Though he knew that Santana is not one to talk about her feelings, he was thinking of ways on how he could break her guard down. He was one of the few who could do it and if it means hours of shouting then he is more than willing to take a risk just to save their marriage. But even before they had the talk, that eventful night happened and Santana started to apologize to him. Mike thought she was guilty of what she has done to their child, what he didn't know was Santana was apologizing because she just made the situation worse than what it really seemed. But Mike was too willing to accept his wife's apology that he didn't recognize the guilty eyes of a wife that has cheated on her ever loving husband.
-M-
Wachtell Lipton Rosen & Katz, New York
"Mr. Chang, you're wife is here." Mike's assistant spoke through the phone.
"Let her in, Max." He answered not able to hide the excitement in his voice. Just after he hung up, his office door opened revealing her beautiful wife in her peach Bohemian dresses/Maxi Chiffon with a small food bag in her hand.
"This is a wonderful surprise," Mike told her as he walked towards her, wrapped her in a tight embrace and give her a peck on the lips.
"Well, I was in the area and thought that I could bring you some lunch," she said with a shrug. She walked towards the office couch and started to arrange Mike's food on the table.
Mike was really surprised. The truth was, it was so uncharacteristic of Santana to show up in his office, let alone with lunch on her newly manicured hands. Don't get her wrong, Santana can be sweet when she wanted to be, especially to Mike. But with the Lopez's reputation, Santana tried really hard to avoid showing emotion or weakness in front of the people. Yes, Santana would bring him lunch, but she would wait on the back of her car instead where they would share the dish she prepared for both of them. And with her most recent break down, Mike wasn't really expecting to see this side of Santana. So seeing her out of her work clothes, in his office couch, and preparing his lunch, Mike can't help but feel giddy.
Santana patted the sit beside her urging Mike to join her. Mike then enjoyed the attention her wife is giving her more than the actual lunch that she was feeding her with a chopstick.
"You can be such a baby, sometimes." Santana teased and he just pouted. "See. Such a baby," she said as she held another chopstick with Maki towards Mike which he gratefully accepted. And just like that, he instantly forgot all their problems and drama at home and the people around them. Damn the questioning look their getting from other side of his transparent walls.
It was peaceful.
As soon as Santana got rid of all the mess in the coffee table and after the blinds in Mike's office were closed, the couple lay on the couch with Mike on his back and Santana curled on top of him. Santana was on her stomach and playing with the button of Mike's neatly tailored long sleeves when she finally spoke.
"I was thinking about what you suggested," She softly said.
"Mmmhmm," Mike uttered with eyes still closed not really paying attention with what her wife was saying.
"About the marriage counselor," she continued and this got Mike's attention.
After Santana's break down in the shower, Mike knew they their marriage is in trouble and it was not just because of her abortion. He knew it was more than that and he knew both of them are to be blamed. So when he talked with Mercedes and Sam about their marital problems, they both suggested that it would be good to meet a marriage counselor they knew. But when he opened it up with Santana, she kept turning him down and assured him that everything was okay. Sure she would still sleep with him but he also knew that something changed. He wasn't dumb.
"Maybe you're right," Santana continued as she sat up and fixed her dress. She looked at her husband and smiled. "We need this," she added and held his hand.
"Are you sure about this, babe?" Mike asked. Santana just nodded and crashed her lips into his.
Thirty minutes later, Mike was tucking his white long sleeves back into his pants while Santana was still laid out flat and panting on his desk which was now cleared of his things.
"Max," Mike said through the intercom, still breathless from the multiple orgasms her wife gave him. "I need you to contact Dr. Quinn Fabray," he said. "Her name is on my contact list. Please schedule an appointment anytime on Saturday." And with that he hang up and was surprised by the lustful eyes of his wife.
Santana reached up, catch his tie, and drag him down into another hard, grinding kiss, thrusting her tongue into his mouth. One of his rough hands pushes up her skirt, finding her still throbbing pussy and sliding in with no resistance at all. "God. You're still this wet for me?" He asked in her ear, catching her earlobe between his teeth to bite a little. Santana arched her hips against his hand, knowing she should feel ashamed but unable to think about anything besides wanting her.
"Are you going to fuck me or not?" she grited out, panting and ready to explode.
-MSQ-
So what do you think? Hope you like it!