Disclaimer: I do not own anything Glee, nor do I make any money from this. Errors are all mine, and I do take some liberties with canon. Let it be known that in my universe, Brittana (or "Santittany," as I prefer) are OTP. No other permutations are permitted.
Achtung: coarse language and graphic sexual situations ahead. You have been warned.
A/N: Approaching 100 follows/favorites. Thanks. For those who waited so patiently for the "M"ature concepts, they appear below.
Chapter 10
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"Britt?" Santana called out as she entered her bedroom and made sure the door was securely locked behind her. No need for Manhands or Q to wander in here for a late-night talk or anything.
The lights were off, save a candle on the nightstand casting a warm glow. The bed was turned down. The shower in the en-suite bath was running, and as her eyes adjusted to the near-dark, she saw Brittany's sarong, bikini top, and bikini bottom on the floor leading to the bathroom door. She let a smirk slink across her face. Oh yeah, sexy times, here we come. She stripped off her tank and started for the bathroom, peeling off everything else as she went.
Brittany was just stepping out of the shower. Damn, missed her. Shower sex is so hot.
"Hey, San." Brittany reached for a towel.
Santana put up a hand to stop her progress. "B, I've been waiting, like, all day for this," she whined. She let her eyes roam hungrily over a very naked and very wet Brittany and reached out to grip one of Brittany's hips. Santana stepped closer and felt her compressed libido erupt.
"Me too, San." Brittany smiled and met Santana's lips halfway. Santana gasped at the shock of their skin meeting without barriers and wrapped her arms around Brittany's back. She pulled back and panted, "God, B, you feel so good..." She trailed her tongue along Brittany's jaw and tasted the water from the shower. "I don't think I can wait." She slid her hands down and massaged Brittany's ass, angling her hips to push-walk Brittany backward to the vanity. "B?" She asked softly, pressing open-mouthed kisses along Brittany's collarbone.
Brittany wrestled with her own physical arousal, hammering relentlessly through her. It all felt so good. It had been a really long time, but... "San..." she ground out. Santana felt Brittany's hands stop hers.
Santana stopped, and peeled her upper body away from Brittany's as realization dawned. "Let me guess," she started softly. "Feelings, right?" She immediately frowned and felt bad for jumping on Brittany like some pervy predator. I used to have game. Brittany nodded, and brushed a thumb over Santana's cheek.
"We've waited this long, San. I want all of you, in your bed, and to give you all of me. Knowing we don't have to hurry and knowing that we have just each other." Brittany leaned down, then, and whispered against Santana's lips, "It's going to be so much better. You'll see."
Sometimes Santana hated it when Brittany was right, and envied her faith to know when things would work. Santana pouted, but grudgingly agreed. "It'd better be," she said with a mock frown and a tapping finger to Brittany's chin. "I'm gonna take a shower. Don't get started without me, Britt," she teased as she stepped into the shower.
"How would I do that?" Brittany asked softly and smiled knowingly at her own reflection. We're starting together, San.
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Santana finished up and shut off the water. After fighting her admittedly selfish interest in the world's fastest shower, she opted to roll with Brittany's intent, and took the time to shampoo the chlorine stink out of her hair too, and it held up pretty well. The weave might not be a total loss.
She stepped out of the shower and toweled off. Guess I should blow-dry, too, she thought as she saw the hair dryer Brittany had left out for her. She rolled her eyes and got to work.
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Santana stretched as she contemplated her reflection one more time. Smokin'. She turned off the light and turned to walk into her bedroom, naked. She would have died before she admitted it, but she was a little nervous, like it was the first time with Brittany all over again. Well, it kindof is. She shook her head and looked up.
Oh. My. God. Brittany was sitting cross-legged on the bed, frowning at her cell phone. Her hair was swept over one shoulder and Santana stopped at the edge of the bed, transfixed at the sight of her girl, gilded in candlelight and nothing else. The dark walls seemed to swallow up everything except Brittany. "B?"
Brittany looked up, smiled, and set her phone down on the nightstand. She patted the space next to her. "Come to bed, honey."
Santana awkwardly scrambled into the bed, faced Brittany, and folded her legs beneath her. She tucked her hair behind her ear on one side. Definitely nervous. They usually did this in the dark. She met Brittany's eyes, and noted her bemused expression.
"Feelings really throw you off, don't they, San?"
"Maybe..." Santana's voice trailed off. "I don't know..." Some badass I am.
"You know how. I've seen them in your eyes. Don't be afraid of them." Brittany leaned forward and placed the softest kiss on Santana's lips. Santana whimpered, and lifted her hands up. She wanted her fingers on Brittany somewhere, hell, just about anywhere would work. She was starving.
Brittany reached her hands toward Santana. The second Santana felt Brittany's hands on her skin, just resting on her thighs, her eyes flew open. "God, Britt, touch me," Santana begged. "I'm going to fall apart if you don't."
Brittany understood, and made a decision. "It's OK, San," she soothed. "I've got you." Brittany smoothly shifted her legs so that she could gently push Santana flat on her back. Santana struggled to her elbows, and Brittany said only, "Let me." Santana surrendered, and as she laid back down she watched Brittany lay her body next to her own.
Brittany propped up her head on one hand, and ran the warm palm of her other hand in circles over Santana's stomach, watching how her abs shifted and rippled in response and hearing Santana's uneven breathing. She smiled, loving the difference in their skin tones, cream on caramel, and leaned down to kiss her way slowly down Santana's neck to her collarbone, her shoulder. Santana groaned when she felt the warm, soft weight of Brittany's breast grazing her torso, her silky hair tickling slightly where it passed over her skin.
Brittany trailed her fingers down Santana's abs, across her hip, and down her thigh, enjoying the sensation of feeling Santana's hips try to follow her touch. That's it, baby. Let me. She scraped her nails back up the way her fingers had come, and brought her hand up to cup a breast. She kissed down Santana's chest to its twin, and pulled a delectable dark nipple into her mouth. You didn't need the boob job, San. You were already...perfect. While she worked one nipple with her lips and tongue, her thumb stroked the other to stiff attention. Brittany shifted her body directly over Santana's, tangling their legs together with one of Brittany's resting between Santana's. She sought out Santana's eyes, and the raw need she saw there matched what she felt on her thigh.
Brittany leaned down to kiss the other side of Santana's neck, nipping lightly at her skin, and ran her hand down Santana's side to rest on her hip. She used her thumb to massage the hidden erogenous zone she knew was there, the spot that made Santana short-circuit. Santana fisted a hand in Brittany's hair and forced her head back up to her mouth. "Kiss me, dammit," she demanded, and lifted her head up to meet Brittany's mouth.
Brittany was consumed momentarily by Santana's overwhelming need and passion. She eagerly met Santana's tongue stroke for stroke, her own arousal skyrocketing through her entire body and coalescing deep in her belly. She felt Santana's hips rhythmically rolling against her slick thigh, and when she realized what was happening, she shifted her weight to her elbows and pulled her hips, and legs, up and away.
"What the hell, B?" Santana growled, more desperately turned on than truly angry. "I'm so close."
Brittany pinned her with a look. "I know. I want to try something..." She closed her eyes, gathered herself. She opened her eyes and looked into Santana's. When she spoke, her voice had dropped a register. "I want to taste you."
Santana audibly gulped. They'd had sex a hundred times or more, but Santana had never let Brittany do, well, that, despite her repeated requests, hints, and tentative attempts. And Santana had been afraid to try it on Brittany, because that was definitely outside her definition of FWBs. Even BFF FWBs. "Britt -"
"I'm not taking no for an answer, San," she said softly but firmly, before Santana could speak any of the dozen-plus excuses she had used in the past. She saw the insecurity looming in Santana's eyes, the discomfort with uncharted territory. "Let me. Please?"
Santana's eyes fluttered closed, and she felt the throbbing ache and unbelievable wetness between her legs, the level of arousal that only Brittany had ever stirred in her. She opened her eyes and searched Brittany's face, all hope and desire and love. Santana let herself go with a slow nod. "OK."
When Brittany leaned in to kiss Santana soundly, she dragged her breasts across Santana's and felt her hissed intake of breath as their erect nipples crossed. "Are you trying to kill me, B?"
Brittany chuckled. "No, San, just making up for lost time." Brittany trailed her tongue down Santana's throat and leisurely kissed her way down her chest, then lower, past her navel. She caught the fragrance of Santana's arousal then, all around, and she struggled herself not to hurry. She had wanted Santana like this for so long, but knew there was only one first time. She ran her nose and lips softly through the top fringe of hair at the apex of Santana's thighs, and breathed out against her skin, "God, you smell so good, San."
When Santana felt Brittany's words moving across her skin, so close to where she needed Brittany's touch, it was all she could do not to beg. She was afraid she wouldn't last long once Brittany got going.
Brittany raked her nails down the insides of Santana's thighs, surprising Santana with another rush of arousal, and causing her legs involuntarily to part wider. Brittany smiled. That's it. Let me.
Santana felt Brittany's hair tickling lower on her abdomen. She pushed herself up on her elbows again, because she had to be sure. "B, are you sure you're OK with this?"
Brittany's blue eyes glittered darkly in the candlelight with unquenchable desire when she looked back up at Santana, and any lingering reservations Santana had evaporated. "More than sure, San," she whispered. Santana closed her eyes and braced herself as Brittany leaned in for the first taste.
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Oh. My. God. Is this really happening? Santana let her head fall back, arched her back and felt her hips involuntarily thrusting toward Brittany's mouth. She moaned Brittany's name, because she didn't have the words for how it felt, the sensation of Brittany's clever tongue tasting and teasing. Santana undulated her whole body in pure pleasure, and stretched her arms over her head, opening her body to Brittany's touch as much as she possibly could. She sighed, equal parts mindless pleasure and surrender. Take it all, B. It's always been yours anyway.
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Brittany fell in love all over again. She experimentally ran her tongue up the length of Santana's sex, and back down. She breathed in the heady fragrance, savored the taste in her mouth. San, why didn't you let me do this before? Brittany felt Santana's body shifting, rolling lightly, and voluntarily letting go. She knew then that Santana was ready to accept what she wanted to give her. Brittany pressed closer and repeatedly teased her tongue up and down the soaked, sensitive skin, doing an admirable job of keeping up with Santana's writhing hips. Brittany reached one arm up around Santana's hips and placed her palm low on Santana's belly, to calm and to help hold her in place a little bit.
"Britt..."
Brittany didn't lift her head or cease her oral efforts, opting instead to voice, "Hmmm?" against Santana's swollen sex.
God, she's teasing me now. "Britt, I need-"
Brittany did stop, then, and Santana whimpered at the loss of contact. "San, I've waited a long time for this too. Let me." Brittany leaned in and sealed her lips around Santana's clit, licked once, twice. Santana's body jerked. Brittany pulled away just enough to ask quietly, "OK?"
Even the little puffs of air from Brittany's words felt seismic. "B, I won't last much longer..."
"I know, San. It's OK. I've got you." Brittany shifted so her hands each held one of Santana's hips, and she languidly slid her tongue down to Santana's opening before coming back up to focus on her clit. She knew San was close, so very close, to the edge, and she wanted to prolong her own pleasure of discovery, but not deny Santana the release she so desperately needed.
Brittany focused her attention on helping Santana finish, and consoled herself with knowing that there would be time for more exploration later. She whipped her tongue across Santana's clit, feeling the tension build through her body until Santana was fluidly rolling her hips and half-sobbing Brittany's name. Her body snapped tight as a bowstring, and Brittany happily pulled Santana over the line into oblivion.
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Rachel was dreaming. Ambien did that to her sometimes, gave her odd dreams she didn't always remember the morning after.
She was wearing her prom dress, checking her reflection in the mirror. "Most girls would be upset about getting slapped in the face, but I happen to appreciate the drama of it." She reached for a paper towel.
Quinn leaned against the next sink. "I know you think it's hard to be you, Rachel, but at least you don't have to be terrified all of the time."
Rachel paused, and asked quietly, "What are you so scared of?" The most popular girl in school is SCARED? She offered Quinn a paper towel to dab at her tears.
"The future. When all this is gone."
"Look, you have nothing to be scared of. You're a very pretty girl, Quinn. You're the prettiest girl I've met, but ... you're a lot more than that." Rachel looked up at Quinn, paper towel in hand, and quietly asked permission to help dab away the running mascara. She stepped closer, pressed the folded towel carefully under Quinn's left eye, then her right.
"All set, Miss Fabray." She smiled up at Quinn, who even after shedding tears was still the prettiest girl she'd met. Quinn smiled back, lightly. Their silence built up a charge like static electricity, and Rachel wanted nothing more than to stand up on her tiptoes, lean forward, and kiss Quinn.
So she did. Her arms slid around Quinn's waist, and the paper towel fell to the floor, eminently forgotten. She felt Quinn reach up to take her hair down, and run her fingers through it slowly. Their tongues tangled, twisted. Rachel felt her heart rate increase, and desire lancing through her belly at the feeling of Quinn's fingers on her scalp.
Rachel shifted, trying to get closer. She couldn't taste Quinn or smell her very well, and she wanted more.
She awoke with a start, gasping. She sat up in bed and knew a moment's panic before she realized that she was safe, in a guest room at Santana's, and also very much alone in a small portion of a large bed. She thought a drink of water might calm her down and slow her heartbeat down enough to get back to sleep. Is that what I wanted from Quinn all along? She shook her head, tossed back the covers on the half of the bed she had slept in, and padded toward the bathroom for some water.
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Santana came back down slowly, amazed to discover that she was crying. Oh, God. Really? She threw an arm over her eyes and concentrated on stopping the flow of tears. Why the hell am I crying? "Britt?"
After the storm quieted, Brittany had delicately dabbed Santana off her face using a corner of the flat sheet, and had rested her head on Santana's abs. She noted that Santana's breathing was still irregular, and then she heard Santana say her name.
"San?" Brittany scrambled up to see Santana's face, and wiped away her tears with her thumbs. "Did I hurt you? What's wrong, baby?"
Santana shook her head, and spoke softly. "No, B, you didn't hurt me." She brought her hand up to brush Brittany's hair back, and pull her in for a very soft, lingering kiss. Santana felt calm returning, and took a stabilizing breath. "It was just ... really intense."
Brittany frowned. "Like good intense, or bad intense?" Brittany did not want their new first time to carry bad memories. Santana met Brittany's gaze baldly, and let the vulnerability shine through.
"Good, Britt. Like, um, the best ever." She blushed, then, and gave a little laugh, rolling her eyes away and back. "You didn't tell me that 'with feelings' would make me cry." She smiled, the full-watt smile, and it transformed her face.
Brittany exhaled in relief. "Told you, San, that it would be better." She smiled, and Santana was captured again. Thank God she waited for me.
"Hmmm, so you did," Santana said, and reached for Brittany again. She rolled them over, nestled her hips into Brittany's, and kissed Brittany deeply, longingly. She smelled and tasted herself on Brittany's face. "Hmm. That's not what I expected, um, that to taste like," she said, a little embarrassed.
Brittany smiled. "You taste awesome, San." Brittany reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind Santana's ear, and said, "I've really wanted to do that for a long time, like since the first time we were together."
Santana grinned. My girlfriend just ate my pussy. "I should have let you. I'm not sure where you learned to do that but ... wow. Just...wow." Santana's clit twitched just at the remembering, and she realized that anytime Britt wanted to do it again, she'd let her. Hmph, more like I'd sit up and beg for it.
"San, I hate to sound like that broken record thing, but-"
"Feelings," Santana sighed. "Am I right? That's what made it so good?"
"Yeah," Brittany said, her gaze falling to Santana's mouth.
Santana smirked, and her fingers began wandering over Brittany's body. She nibbled at Brittany's chin and jaw, tasted more of herself, and wondered what Brittany tasted like down there. The night is still young.
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Quinn groaned and shifted again, trying to get comfortable. Did they bring this bed over from Spain after the Inquisition? She gave up and rolled to her feet. There were more rooms in this godforsaken McMansion and the beds had to be more comfortable. She grumbled to herself and opened the door. All was quiet, well, except for some weird sounds coming from down the hall. S and B are in there doing whatever it is they do together. Hmm, those vocals have to be Brittany. She shook her head ruefully and made a note to tease Santana about it tomorrow. She stopped in the guest bath to use the facility and to drink some more water, and saw the door across the hall. Why not? Can't be any worse than that torture chamber bed. She opened the door, saw the bed in the dark. She walked over, gently pulled the covers down on one side of the bed, and gratefully sank into significantly more comfort than she had left. She was asleep in less than 5 minutes.
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