a/n : all right. i first want to thank stephanie for helping me beta! and readers, thank you and in return here's chapter 7. leave a review. let me know your thoughts. it's interesting to read just how close some of you are on your interpretations and how far away others are. this chapter may raise more questions, should answer some? maybe. LOL. either way. i hope you enjoy it and like I said, let me know what you think. :)

Chapter 7 : Body Slammed

Mercedes was wrong when she said it would take five minutes for me to feel better. It took a little more than just time and a lot less than five minutes. While Mercedes was in the kitchen grabbing drinks, Santana got my attention. She tapped my shoulder like she was timid, which only further proved my cornered dog theory. Timid people lash out, and timid people act timid. But why was she timid?

The way she got my attention didn't match the way she spoke, and the words she used. Not at all. "Quinn doesn't really like me. That's probably why she left. She's probably still butt-hurt about Puck and me doing the deed while they were dating. She's stupid for dating him in the first place, which is exactly what I told her."

I swallowed the frustrated tears that had been clinging to my throat. "She said I was boring." Why would she say I was boring, if she was really mad? That made no sense at all.

"No." Santana shook her head. "She said she was bored. It's Quinn code for she wants to get the fuck out of dodge. And she told Mercedes, because she knew Blabbermouth would come over here and announce it in front of me. Quinn has a way with taking every little thing she doesn't like and twisting it so she puts the blame on other people. So believe me when I say she's not mad at you and doesn't think you're boring."

And I believed her. I probably would have believed anything she said just because she had no reason to lie to me. She especially had no reason to lie about this and go out of her way to make Quinn, someone she doesn't even really like, look like she hadn't intentionally hurt me.

Mercedes came back with mixed drinks. They were better than the beer, but that's only because they had way more alcohol. I drank mine like it was water and then asked them if they wanted to mingle. So the three of us got up and headed into the kitchen. I was going to introduce them to Finn, but Santana already knew him and I just ended up whispering his name into Mercedes' ear. Apparently he had just gotten back from taking Quinn home.

Finn was totally nice. And even though he was super tall, he didn't try to look down my shirt more than once. And after the first time he did it, he got nervous and acted like I had caught him peeking in the girl's bathroom.

Santana didn't really talk that much to Finn. I got the impression that she was irritated with him. So she hung by my side, made a few remarks, but mostly just listened.

I was on my fourth drink when that Puck guy walked up, the one that Santana said Quinn had dated, and she had hooked up with. He looked a little different after that new knowledge. Now he wasn't the guy that had joked about me having to pay for a broken milk at the grocery store. He seemed a lot less charming and surprisingly, in a strange way, a lot less intimidating.

"So are you staying here?" He hung his arm over Santana's shoulder.

Finn and Mercedes stopped mid-conversation and everyone looked to see how Santana would react. She slipped out of his arm and stood on the other side of me. "I'll pass."

Puck looked like that had been the last thing he thought she would say. He also looked a little drunk, so maybe that's why his face was so blank.

I glanced to Mercedes, who also looked a little taken aback. Her eyebrows were lifted with shock and a touch of approval. It was the same look my mom gave me when I told her that I had changed my mind about spinach, and I now liked it.

"Well I'm not driving you home." He shrugged and then walked off.

Santana shrugged off the comment just like Puck had shrugged her off. I waited until Finn and Mercedes started chatting again before I said something to Santana. I didn't want it to look like she had nowhere else to go other than the new girl's house that she had just met at work. "You can stay at my house. My truck's outside." I spoke softly.

"Only if you let me drive." She smirked and held out her hand.

I had to force myself not to do a little victory dance. It would not have been much of a victory anyway, because I didn't even need to try very hard to get her to come over. "Deal." I smashed my hand in my shorts and pulled out the keys to my truck. It was probably a good idea that she drove anyway, since she was just drinking water.

She took them and looked just like I did. Like she was about to do her own little victory dance. I get excited too when someone lets me drive their car. But I'm positive her dance would be less of a dorky dance and more of a badass shrug.

I twisted back and forth on the balls of my feet with my hands folded behind my back. The alcohol was loosening me up and it was the only thing I could do to keep my enthusiasm from blowing up the entire house. I hadn't ever had a sleepover and now I was way too old for my mom to say no, especially if we showed up really late and Santana was already with me. She probably wouldn't even notice us if we snuck into my room.

"What are you doing?" Tina grinned at me and nudged my shoulder. I hadn't noticed when she walked up.

"Noooothing." I dragged out the word. I unclasped my hands from behind my back and reached forward to pat Tina on the arm. "What are you doing?"

"I came to find you. I haven't talked to you all night." She looked to my right. "Hey Santana." Tina was always like that. If she didn't exactly approve of someone, she still made it a point to acknowledge them.

Santana said hi back.

"Oh," Tina looked back at me. "Quinn texted me. She said to let you know she got home and she said that you needed to get better at checking your phone."

"Told you." Santana spoke. I wasn't sure what she was saying told you about. The Quinn not being mad at me thing, or the me needing to check my phone thing. It didn't really matter either way cause I just assumed she meant both.

I pulled out my phone and there was a text from Quinn. Just got home.

I didn't respond. Reading the text gave me mixed feelings. I liked that she had sent it to me, but why couldn't she have walked ten feet to say she was leaving in the first place. And I would have totally driven her home. So I just shoved my phone back in my pocket and continued to talk with everyone.

Before Santana and I left, I had one more beer. Five drinks was a good night for me. I wasn't wasted, just tipsy. After I peed and Santana watched the door, she asked if I was ready to go. I was way more than ready. The party was fun, but sleepovers were way more fun. We were halfway to my car before I realized I had forgotten to say bye to everyone.

"I'm sure they saw you leave." Santana stopped a few feet ahead of me. She walked back and grabbed my hand and I instantly started walking with her again. "And you told them that you were leaving soon at least twenty times." She laughed.

"Oh yeah." I thought I had been a little more subtle with my enthusiasm about leaving…guess not.

"Which car is yours?" She lifted my hand with hers to point at cars that were parked along the street. Her other hand was searching in her pocket.

"The big one." I kicked my foot up to point towards my truck.

"Holy shit. That's huge." Santana almost gasped. I wondered if she was way more excited to drive it now that she saw it was ginormous, or if she regretted offering to do so in the first place.

My truck was huge. One morning I walked out to find that my sister had written Godzilla across the back window with window marker. I hid her window markers in the couch cushions because even though I liked finding her secret notes written on my car, it was hard to wash off.

"We could squish Tokyo." I said before I let go of her hand and darted for the passenger door. It was weird to climb into. I had never been a passenger in my own car.

Santana was super awkward trying to climb into my truck. But I didn't laugh, because everyone always looked awkward.

She found my house really easily. I didn't even have to tell her where to turn. I just turned up the radio and talk-yelled over the music. I told her about the last time I had woken up from being drunk and was at my friend's house. And then I told her about my friend's little sister and how I had drooled all over her pillow. She said she didn't have siblings, just a million cousins.

"Do I park by the curb?" We pulled down my street.

"Yup. Under the tree."

So she pulled under the tree and shut my engine off. "Is someone awake?" She pointed at the front window of my house. The light was still on. "It's like two in the morning."

"My mom." I opened the door and slid from the seat down to the road. I continued talking when I got to her side. She didn't slide out as quickly as I had. "She stays up super late."

"Is it because you're not home?" Santana finally got out. She looked like one of those chubby boys in grade school that were too afraid to let go of the monkey bars even though they were like two inches away from the ground. But she safely made it to the ground and shut the door. "Does she wait up for you? Is it okay that I'm coming over?"

"No, no, and yes." I answered each question slowly, making sure I answered the right question with the right answer. "It's okay I promise." I knew that, because whenever I did have friends stop by, my mom was pretty nice to them. She would never be mean to someone for no reason.

Walking through the front yard kind of felt like I was walking a little too fast for everything to keep up with me. It was because I was drunk. But I could easily pull off a sober face if my mom said anything when we walked in. I turned and whispered to Santana when we reached the front door, "My room's on the right."

She nodded.

I turned the doorknob on the front door, opened it, kept my head down, and reached straight for my room's door. I would have fast-walked if it weren't for the fact that my room was literally right by the front door. I pointed to the open door that led to my room, waited until she walked by me, and then shut the front door behind us.

When I looked to the living room, my mom's back was to us. She was on the computer and had the headphones on. Easy-peasy. I smiled, and then leapt into my room.

The light was already on. Santana was slowly moving by my dresser and looking at pictures. There were like ten of them. I also had a collage on my wall of pictures and a corkboard that had random things stuck to it. She could spend hours looking through everything in here and probably still wouldn't be able to find it all.

I shut the door.

I looked at my bed. The sheets were all messy. "I only have one pillow." I said and walked to my bed. "You can use it though, because I usually knock it off the bed when I sleep." I sat on the crumply sheets.

"What's this?" She pulled a thumbtack out of my corkboard and grabbed the piece of paper it had been stuck through.

"My bucket list." I jump from the bed to stand by her. I looked over her shoulder as she read it.

"Gage your ears?" She looked up from the list and at me. "Really?"

I shrugged. "Not too big. Just tiny baby holes, so they'll go away when I change my mind."

She nodded and then looked back at the list. Her smile grew as she read through everything, and then she started saying them out loud. "Learn how to do cool braids, adopt a Haitian baby, ride in a helicopter…" She kept reading them. I loved it when people read the list. I used to keep it in my purse, but now I just kept it in my room so it didn't get smashed by my wallet. "Go to the North Pole?" She looked up from the paper again.

"I need to get a winter jacket before I do that. So I'll have to add that to the list." I took to remember to add that. All the pens were in the living room.

She started to read something and stopped. And then finished reading it. "Tell a secret?" She looked at me.

"I can scratch that off." Now I really wished I had a pen. "Do you have a pen?"

"No, sorry." She whispered, smiled, and slowly handed me the paper.

I tacked it back on the corkboard.

My door swished open. I snapped my attention so quickly to the door that it nearly made me dizzy. My mom looked shocked. Not shocked in a bad way. Just shocked because someone else was in my room.

"Oh," she softened, "hi."

Santana was a pro though. She didn't even flinch. "Hi I'm Santana. Brittany's friend."

My mom instantly took to her. "Hi. Cindy." She smiled. "What are you girls doing?"

"Just hanging out in my room." I said my room for a reason. If I made it a point to specify where we would be, maybe my mom wouldn't worry so much about how clean the house was.

"I thought I heard you talking in here." My mom was still smiling. It wasn't a fake smile, my mom wasn't fake. She was who she was. And if she was smiling than it meant that she approved. "Are you staying the night?" She asked.

"If that's okay with you?" Santana responded. I was shocked with how well she handled herself. She looked so confident and mature.

"Of course it is. Well, it was nice meeting you." My mom said to Santana, and shut the door when Santana smiled back at her.

When the door shut it felt like a huge weight lifted. That was so much better than I thought it was going to be. My mom didn't even get mad. I could have started having sleepovers a long time ago if I had known it would be this easy.

"She doesn't think it's weird that we're here so late?" Santana questioned. I guess she was a little surprised too by how easy it was for me to have sleepovers. Then again, maybe I hadn't given her the best impression of my mom when I had been nearly crying about her and hanging onto a toilet.

Of course my mom didn't think it was weird that it was so late. She stayed up late. If she thought it was weird then she would go to sleep. My mom has never made a comment about me coming home late. "No." I shrugged. "I come home late all the time."

There were sweats and t-shirts on my dresser. I headed to the pile of clothes and picked up some for Santana. "Here." I handed them to her. "You can use these." It was an over-sized pair of sweatpants and a green shirt with a beach on it. "I'll be right back." I had to pee, and that way she didn't have to walk through my house and to the bathroom to change.

I peed, brushed my teeth, washed my face, and by the time I got back, Santana was sitting on my bed studying the pictures on my collage and wearing my pajamas. I kind of hoped she saw the picture of me and Rachel at the pool. Rachel had gotten stuck in one of those tube floaties for like an hour and wouldn't let anyone touch her. One of her dads had taken the picture and secretly gave me one.

I walked to the TV and turned it on and then turned the light off. It was already on the food channel, so I didn't have to hunt down my remote and change it. "Oh, wait." I turned back to her. "Can you sleep with the TV on? Cause if you're here I can sleep with it off." I said it instead of just thinking it.

She didn't respond badly though. I think she took it as a compliment. "That's fine. We can watch TV."

With that approval, I started to change. When I glanced at her, her eyes were glued to the TV and she wasn't even blinking. Silly girl. It's not like she didn't have boobies too.

I tossed my scarf on my dresser, put on a different tank top and didn't even bother putting on shorts. It got so hot in my room that underwear was enough to make me sweat.

She scooted over when I walked to the bed. Her eyes were still on the TV. "Doesn't watching this make you hungry?" She asked. I glanced from her to the TV. Someone was making pepperoni pizza.

Yes. That was the whole point. "Are you hungry?" I sat down. "We have sandwich stuff I think."

"Oh, no, no." Santana said. "I'm okay."

I sat and then slid the pillow towards her. If she was hungry then I would have eaten, but I didn't want to eat in front of her. It was rude. And I had already brushed my teeth.

"Oh that's right." I slapped my hand to my forehead. "Do you want to brush your teeth? Sorry I'm not used to having people stay over. I don't think we have extra toothbrushes…" I tried to think if maybe one was hidden somewhere, but that wasn't likely. "We could…like, dip mine in Clorox? Then you could use it."

When I looked to her, she had her head cocked with amusement. "Honestly," she started, "I would, by far, rather brush my teeth with your toothbrush and get your mouth cooties, than dip it in Clorox."

"Do you want to?" I looked back to my door.

"I brushed my teeth before the party. And I only drank water tonight. So it's okay." She patted the bed and urged me to lie down.

It took me a little to get comfortable, because I was used to falling asleep on my pillow. I was shifting and moving and moving and I still wasn't able to find a good way to fall asleep.

"We can share the pillow." Santana offered. "Or you can just lie on me again."

Why didn't I think of that? But sharing the pillow was like eating carrots when you could eat chocolate cake. "Okay." I scooted toward her and laid my ear against her chest. I mimicked exactly what I had done the other night. I wrapped on arm around her and then I focused my attention on the TV.

It was hard to watch, since I was a little tipsy, but especially since all I wanted to do was listen to her heart beat. This time she had her arm around me too. I think it was because she was more prepared.

I fell asleep before the next commercial.

xxXXXXxxXXxx

When I woke up she was asleep. Now I knew what she meant when she said she could tell the difference in my breathing and she knew I was awake. It was still dark outside, my TV was still on, and her arm was still wrapped around me. But it was limp, so she was definitely asleep.

I closed my eyes and started to drift back asleep. That's until I remembered something that I guess I hadn't thought of when I got home and when I had been a bit tipsy. My heart started to pound and my eyes snapped open. Thank God she didn't brush her teeth when I asked.

Getting off the bed without waking her up was the hardest part. I wasn't sure how hard of a sleeper she was, so I made sure I bumped into nothing and nothing creaked when I walked.

Shit, shit, shit.

I grabbed my doorknob with both hands, squeezed it tightly to keep it from rattling, and so very slowly opened it. The entire time I kept my eyes on her and on any movement she might make. But I was able to get out of my room and shut the door again without her waking up. The hard part was over.

I crept through the house. All of the lights were off. My mom must have just gone to bed. That made things a little easier.

I pushed the door open into the bathroom. It didn't click shut anymore, not since I was little. It was busted. I flicked the light on, closed the door behind me as best as I could, and then surveyed the bathroom.

Lord Tubbington's litter box was a little full. That was a good place to start. My mom used to make me keep it in my room, until the cat peed on the carpet. The garbage by the toilet was stuffed full. Tissues were falling out, but the bag was bigger than the can so I could just pull out the bag and have way more room for other stuff.

It felt like I was taking half breaths. I was somewhere in between panicked and stealthy. She would think we were so gross if she saw this. I had to clean it. Quick. Quick. Quick. It had been at least a week since I did. I should have done it earlier today when I got off work, instead of laying around in my room and texting Quinn about the party.

I didn't want to go back out and grab a towel, so I just wet some toilet paper and started to wipe around the sink.

A tap came from the door. Someone was knocking with their nails. Then she spoke, "Brittany, are you in there?" She whispered through the crack between the door and the doorframe. "Are you sick?"

"No." I started to frantically wipe the sink. Shit, shit, shit. "Hold on. Just a second. Don't come in."

"Britt, let me in if you're sick. I'll help." She pushed the door open all the way, and I froze. Maybe it wouldn't look as bad if I didn't move.

I could feel her eyes studying everything. The garbage bag I had pulled out of the can, the empty litterbox, the dirty clothes in the corner by the shower, and then me. I tossed the dirty toilet paper I had been cleaning with into the toilet.

"Britt?" She kind of laughed. It wasn't a real laugh though. More of a confused reaction. "What are you doing?"

I looked at her and she had a confused smile to match her confused laugh. Maybe I could still get away with it. "Just…throwing stuff away." I quietly slid the garbage can back to where I had pulled it out.

"It's like four in the morning. What could you possibly be throwing away?" She looked around the bathroom again. "Why are you cleaning?"

I just shrugged. I felt so caught. It was humiliating.

She started to talk again, because I never found anything to say. "Britt, I don't understand what you're doing? Why are you cleaning?"

"Cause it's gross in here." I mumbled.

I don't think she really understood, which made me feel even more humiliated. Her bathroom was perfect. There's a reason my mom didn't let people stay the night. This was it. I couldn't even count the number of times my mom has come out of the bathroom and said something about the disgusting litter box, or the dirty clothes, or the nasty shower curtain.

"It's fine. Come back and sleep." She shook her head, and I think tried to shake away my reasoning.

"Only if you promise not to pee until I clean it in the morning."

Her face and her shoulders and her mouth sunk with defeat. It kind of look like she deflated. So I tried to think of something else to say. I wasn't really sure why she was looking me like that.

"It's just nobody has time to clean it. And it won't take me long to clean." I glanced at the door. "And the door doesn't click shut, but everyone knows not to come in if it's kind of closed and the lights on." I swallowed down my panic. "My mom just doesn't like it this dirty. She's going to get mad if she knows you saw it this dirty."

"Brittany." It looked like she deflated even further. "Come on." She grabbed my hand and pulled it toward the sink. "Wash your hands." She turned the water back on for me.

I listened to her and I washed my hands. She shut the water off and I dried my hands on my shirt since there wasn't a towel.

"Now, come on." She repeated and grabbed my hand again. She led me back through the dark house and back into my room.

I was lost for words. I didn't know what to do, or say, or what she was thinking. "Sorry." I apologized. That was usually a good start. At least, it was a good start whenever my mom was upset and the only thing I could think about right now was how upset my mom was going to be in the morning.

Santana wasn't anything like my mom though. She was almost offended by the apology. She walked me to my bed and sat down with me. I folded my hands on my lap and waited for her to say whatever it was that she was going to say.

"You didn't do anything wrong," she started, "So no apologizing okay."

I nodded, yes.

"Second, the bathroom is fine." She patted my thigh. "So, let's sleep."

That was it? She wasn't even mad. She was like the opposite of mad. Not happy though. Just, un-mad. She laid down first and waited for me to crawl in before she pulled the blanket over us. "The last thing you should be worried about is a bathroom, and whether or not it's gross."

I nodded again after I had lain on her chest. She didn't have to suggest it this time, and I didn't have to ask, she just held up her arm and waited for me to lie on her. But I wasn't going to be able to fall asleep. I was still thinking about the bathroom. Now there wasn't even litter in the litter box. Lord Tubbington was going to poop all over everything.

Maybe she could hear me thinking and that's why she said something. Or maybe she just had amazing timing and knew the exact thing to say in order to distract me. "Want to know why I like you?"

"Yes." I answered right away.

"Remember when you, me and Quinn were in the shoe store and I joked about Quinn talking about you? Well, that wasn't a joke. She really did come back and talk about some girl with rain boots who worked with us, and who dropped milk. And she said you offered to buy her new shoes, and that you thought you had to pay for a broken milk carton."

"Yeah." I wanted her to continue. This was like word-gold. I started to trace my fingers up and down her arm so she would keep going. From her shoulder, down to her wrist, and then back up.

"And remember when you saw me upset in the bathroom and didn't say something lame about how everything was going to be okay?" She was whispering now, and now I could hear the TV a little bit. "And then I think I officially liked you when you told me that secret."

I was smiling now.

I don't think she actually answered the why part of anything, but it was a start. "So all I gotta do is drop milk, buy you shoes, meet you in bathrooms, and tell you secrets? And you'll like me?"

"Basically."

We both giggled and my mood did an entire turnaround.

A few minutes passed. I was still tracing my fingers up and down her arm. Faster now. I kind of felt restless. Like I wanted something but wasn't quite sure what it was. It was a bugging and stubborn feeling that kept making me think of her and of how I felt about her. "You're pretty." I told her. The words kind of popped in my head and I figured since I hadn't told her earlier when I decided she was pretty, that I should tell her now. And what the heck, why not just tell her everything. She deserved to hear it all, because she was one of the best people in the whole world. "And I liked kissing you. A lot. I like the way it made me feel. I never felt that before..." I hoped that wasn't too much information.

She didn't answer right away, but when she did, I was glad that I had overshared. "You can do it again, if you want."

My eyes momentarily ballooned. No fricken way. She didn't have to ask me twice. I scooted up her body, so I was still halfway on top of her, and didn't hesitate. She lifted her chin and I swallowed my lips against the pulse in her neck.

I think it was the way she squirmed and kind of pushed into me, but when before I thought my downstairs was going to pop, now it felt like it was going to explode from all the pressure. Uhhh. My lips trembled against her neck as I tried to quiet the noise that I had made.

My palm pressed against her stomach when I kissed again. I wanted something to hold on to. That feeling was driving me insane. It was like a nagging in between my legs. I pinched my thighs together to try and fix it. "This feels good." I told her and kissed again. My lips slid over her so easily.

"You can use your hands too." She hushed, grabbed my hand, and then moved it to rest just a little below her stomach.

Oh my God. That twisting started again and I felt so sticky and hot between my legs. My heart was pounding so hard. I stopped my kissing for a second, just so I could focus on touching. I slipped my hand under her shirt and laid my palm flat against her tummy. She felt so hot. My hand was shaking with anxiety. It was the good anxiety. The kind that was begging me to squeeze and touch her and make her feel like she would never want me to stop.

My breaths were hitting her neck. I wanted to move my hand lower, but I didn't know what I was doing. I wasn't even entirely sure that's what she was implying. "I don't know how." I spoke just below her ear.

"Just do what you do to yourself." She answered. Her breathing was shallow and her words were shaky.

But I don't know how…

"It doesn't work on me." I scooted back so I could look at her and judge her reaction. "I don't think I do it right."

I've tried before. In this very bed. But I just didn't really understand what the big deal about touching yourself was, because as much as I have tried, nothing really happened. I just fell asleep.

"Oh…? Really?" Those were always the exact words people said whenever I told them that I was a virgin. I'm not sure what they would say if I told them what I just told Santana, but even I think that's a little too much information to share with other people. "That's okay." She nodded. Her eyes narrowed and I could see her trying to decide something. "Lie back."

I laid on my back and folded my hands on my stomach.

"Okay," She said and got really really close to my ear. "I'm going to do what you were doing to me. Kiss your neck. And if you want, you can try and see if you work. And I'll help, but only if you want."

I nodded and squeezed my clasped hands so tightly. The thought of touching myself in front of her seemed a little…I can't even think of a word. It was just so wild. Everything was happening so fast, and not in a bad fast way. We went from meeting each other, and now she's in my bed and we're doing this. I went from nothing, to her. And there's not really any way to describe that feeling other than saying that she fit into my life. And she fit my body, because every inch of my skin was screaming for her to touch it.

The thing about seeing the broken part of people was...then it's not that hard to show the broken parts of yourself.

I had no objections at all. Maybe the touching myself part seemed a little intimidating, but she said I only had to if I wanted to.

If I had my way, and hadn't worried about consequences, I would have kept going last night. But now that she was encouraging me, it's like everything fit even more perfect.

Her tongue touched my neck first. It was slick and warm and now I knew why she squirmed when I kissed her, because I reacted the same way. She giggled into my cheek, and the vibrations only made me fidget even more.

Her lips touched my neck and they were so soft. It sent chills down to my feet. Lips as soft as hers have never touched me. Just guys with rough and hard mouths. But the feeling of her lips was breathtaking. It stole my breath and made it stutter from my own lips.

I couldn't take it anymore. I had to find out a way to relieve the tension. I was going to start getting loud if she kept kissing my neck like this.

I used one hand to hold the waistband of my underwear, and slipped in the other. "I'm so wet." I said it because I hadn't expected it. My finger glided through all of me. My underwear was drenched and my fingers were now drowned.

"Use two fingers." She muttered into my neck.

The wetness slipped between my fingers, until I was able to start sliding my two middle fingers through the lips part of my downstairs. I was awkward, flustered, clumsy, but it felt good. It felt like I was gradually easing the pressure into something that was making all the muscles in my legs cramp with pleasure.

Her lips sucked below my ear.

I grunted and pushed harder against myself. My fingers slipped up, down, up.

I froze when her hand cupped over my underwear, and shadowed the hand I was using to touch myself. She used her hand to gently guide me up. She stopped inching when my hand was now resting a little higher. "Touch here." She pulled her hand back and started kissing my neck again.

The part I touched was swollen, and sensitive, and it made my insides jump and her mouth bump into me when I jerked.

She pushed me back hard against the mattress with her kiss. She was rough and fast now, but still nothing like the hard-boy-kisses. Her kissing was animal and heated and so intense that it made me feel like she needed me more than she had ever needed anything.

It made me want to touch myself harder. So I did. I started to rub the sensitive part. My tummy rolled and rolled. I was breathing heavy because I was trying so hard to push that tension. The harder I pushed and the faster I went, the better I felt.

When I reached it, it felt like I had gotten so high and was falling so uneven and crazy out of control. The muscles in my tummy clenched and my back slightly arched. I held my breath thinking that would make it last longer. I'm not sure if it did.

I kept my hand still, because now everything was way too sensitive. She was still kissing me, but not as hard. I closed my eyes and let my breath catch up with me. I couldn't shake the feeling that instead of tiptoeing over the line between friendship and something more, we had just body-slammed through it. If she was okay with it, I was. I didn't know what this meant. I just knew that I liked her more than I have ever liked anyone. I liked how patient she was with me.

I'm not shy with sex stuff, even though I haven't had sex. Whenever a guy wanted to have sex I would just do something else for him. I didn't want to lead him on or leave him with nothing, because I would feel guilty. So I would make him satisfied so I felt okay about it.

This situation with Santana was so different. First of all, she wasn't a guy. I'm still not sure what I think of that. Nothing bad I guess. And second, she made this all about me. I was so comfortable with her. It was like she had let me into the other side of her wall.

She made me want to show and tell her everything about me, and at the same time made everything okay.

"Want me to do it to you now?" I asked as her kisses at my neck continued to nip the tiny strings in my stomach.

"No." She pulled up and looked at my neck. Her eyes momentarily got big, but she quickly hid her reaction. "I'm good. Plus, I think we might wake someone up if we keep going."

She reached over me and for the blanket that had fallen to the floor and I pulled my hand out and wiped it against my underwear. When she leaned back over me she covered us in the blanket.

"See you work just fine." She whispered and nuzzled her body into mine.

I closed my eyes and for the second night in a row, fell asleep with her.