Fill for the glee kink meme: Santana/Rachel breastfeeding(Anonymous)2012-03-27 09:24 am (UTC)Santana meets Rachel again after she had been a surrogate mother (like Shelby), so she has the milk but no baby. Rachel wants to help. No infantilism or mommy!kink

Title: She's a Giver…

Author: Ladyfun9

Characters: Santana Rachel (ship Pezberry!)

Rating: M, NC-17

Kinks: !Lactation sans infants, diapers, or mommy…just good old-fashioned erotic lactation

Warning: This chapter gets incesty.

Perfunctory Disclaimer: I don't own glee, not one damn bit of it.

XOXO

Chapter 10. The Prequel

Santana wasn't complaining.

Why would I complain? She mused to herself. I'm having mind-blowing sex, I'm serviced basically whenever I want, and I get to be … aroused…in a completely different manner than I've ever experienced before. In fact, the quiet moments that pass between us, well…

She racked her brain.

Santana realized, the moments that Rachel puts her mouth on me, well…they are so different than anything I've ever known.

She thought of the cacophony and non-stop hollering and generalized chaos that was on-going in her house at all times. She was a product of a large, overly involved, dare she say it…"ethnic" family. There simply were no quiet moments. Ever.

Even relationships on any level were large and loud and overly demonstrative.

And so, the fact that she and Rachel had these…moments…for lack of a better word, meant something to her. The times the Rachel would come and seek out Santana, and meld into her spot…these times that passed between them at least three or four occasions a day, at least, were something that she had grown to crave. To depend on.

And it wasn't always about the sex. She could nurse Rachel, actually, until both breasts were fully drained, and not have sex. In fact, more often than not, they didn't have sex during these times.

But what Santana wasn't prepared to examine if she were to be honest with herself, was the fact she couldn't have sex with Rachel and NOT nurse her afterwards. It was impossible. It had become as much an integral part of their sex life as, well, their orgasms.

Because if Santana were to admit that, it would be admitting she thirsted for…

Intimacy.

With another human being.

Intimacy. Intimacy-with Rachel Berry, to name a specific human being.

And because she couldn't admit that basic fundamental fact – the fact it was about the intimacy and the attachment – and not about the rush she felt when Rachel's skilled mouth would tug—hard- and seal in a latch around her nipple and areola… the physical high she would get from feeling her milk let down into her full breasts while Rachel sucked forcefully in waves…the sounds Rachel would make when San finally let down, and her milk emptied into the Diva's waiting mouth—well, if it was not about that amazing physical sensation, what could it be about?

'Cause that's why she was doing it, right? 'Cause that 'let down' made her pussy tingle, then burn, and throb with wetness , dripping, until Rachel entered her at some point… right?

Right?

Wrong. If Santana were honest with herself , she would actually admit the real moments that made her heart jump. She would remember the moments, in her hazy thrill, when she would look down and see those loving brown eyes gaze up at her, so trusting; Rachel's eyes were indeed a window to her soul as she did her due diligence…her mouth silent, excepting the rhythmic ministrations of her lips against Santana's own breast as she worked the milk down. The quiet trust, and love, and understanding, that passed between them, in their own secret world. Twenty minutes here, twenty minutes there … it added up, to a lot of hours that Rachel was latched on to Santana. And Santana had become the result of supply and demand principles – her breasts had become full and pendulous, absolutely full of milk, ready for Rachel to empty her at any given moment. She loved that feeling, of being engorged, so able to provide. To feed Rachel. To watch the delight in Rachel's eyes and she swallowed and drank her, draining her so completely dry, and continuing to suck, to beg her to make more. It was like a drug…but not for the reasons Santana kept telling herself.

And Santana was sure she had never given this to another soul. This intimacy. And she would never tell anyone, oh HELL to the no, that she was engaged in an…adult nursing relationship, for god's sakes.

Adult. Nursing. Relationship. With Rachel Berry.

The person with whom she was..intimate.

Rachel.

So, if she were to admit that, all of that, well… she would then be able to admit the fact it would absolutely KILL her to think someone else had done something so …intimate…like this…with her. Before Santana.

It would just kill her.

(That is, if Santana Lopez were to ever admit something like that to herself.)

XOXO

The morning sun was peeking through the window and Santana groaned with pleasure.

She had already had her first round of sex, having back to back organisms wherein Rachel simultaneously sucked her nipples hard, nursing with a frenzied determination as she plunged three fingers into Santana's core, with a vibrating cock ring at the base of her fingers. Its fluttering hum would deliciously graze across Santana's clit with every deep thrust of Rachel's hand. The sensations all at once were too much, and she felt her second orgasm wash across her core as she just registered the first. And as she spasmed with three aftershocks, she smiled at Rachel, completely spent.

Rachel, however, did not seem done, and continued being frisky, nipping at Santana's clit with her mouth.

"God, DOWN! Down, Tonto! You need to put me in the oven, 'cause I am DONE." Santana laughed, as she reached down to wipe away the creamy milk that was dribbling from the corner of Rachel's mouth from earlier.

That is so fuckin' hot, mused Santana.

"Are you actually saying "NO?" The great Santana Lopez is admitting …defeat?"

There was a too long pause.

"Never!" Said Santana finally, as she rolled Rachel over and dug in on top of the surprised smaller female. She pinned down the tiny brunette , and rutted her hips inward.

Years of Sue Sylvester's torture, short stack. Ha!

Santana then grabbed Rachel's arms, pinning them above her head while she leaned her weight forward, positioning her hands into a vice grip that was inescapable. .

"I merely am using this short-lived breather to finally encourage you to find your, how shall we call it…your "inner voice." Find your inner voice, Rachel. I'm all ears."

Rachel realized that she wasn't going to be able to escape and evade this time. The truth was going to come out.

She sighed.

"Well, they always say, the truth will set you free." Said Rachel, sounding rather unhappy.

"It doesn't really matter WHAT they say about it, because you're dishin' it. I'm listening. You're talking. That's how this is going down. Now…GO."

Because there is nothing that could compete with what I've conjured up in my mind, she reasoned. Its time, I need to get this out in the open, because its killing me slowly, this not knowing…

Rachel took a deep breath, and began recounting a chapter in her life she spent so much time trying to forget.

"Well, Santana…fine." Rachel exhaled. "There's… no good way to tell this, other than to just start. I've wanted to tell you…honest. But then thing escalated between you and I so quickly, and then I just couldn't...there was never an appropriate…well. y'know- I didn't want to creep you out. So, here we are." Rachel paused.

Santana's head nearly exploded with the impressive dearth of correct syntax employed by the usually articulate diva, in her rambling attempt at an explanation.

Rachel finally met Santana's determined gazed, and started quietly. "It happened this time last year, almost a year to the very day, exactly…"

XOXO

One Year Earlier…

"RACHEL. Hurry the hell UP! We're going to be late!"

"Late? Why are you so freaking out? Again, Quinn, this is making me really nervous."

"No SHIT, Sherlock. Pretty much anything that involves the instructions 'don't tell your parents or the school or any law office or else you'll never see Beth again' is more than likely a sketchy proposition…duh."

"Then why are we here, if we both think its such a bad idea?"

"We've been through this, Berry. Because, in my post-partum haste, I made a bad, bad choice. I gave my daughter away to someone who thinks its okay to use parenthood like a weapon, and wield it against…anyone, really. But especially me."

"Still waiting."

Quinn spun around, frustrated. She grabbed Rachel's shoulders dead on and stared into her eyes.

"Rachel. I HATE that I have to ask you to do this. I HATE that I'm doing this. But if there is any way –ANY- that I can see …Beth…"

With that, Quinn's usually sure voice cracked, and Rachel looked up in time to see the tears welling up in her eyes. She set her jaw firmly.

"Quinn, you shouldn't have to do this. You shouldn't – and you shouldn't be put in such a double bind."

"I know. But … what other choice is there?"

"I just don't understand why she thought you – and I – well, why you would be able to convince me to do something that seems like its going to be …well…" Rachel's voice trailed off, thoughtfully.

Quinn sighed.

"I've thought a lot about that." They had almost reached the dark house in which Shelby Corcoran lived. Quinn continued, "you see, I think that …Shelby …well, she frankly…she overestimated me, and she really underestimated.. you."

Rachel looked at Quinn, puzzled.

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Do I have to spell it out for you, hobbit?" Said Quinn, deliberately incanting her former cruel moniker for Rachel. She continued, despite the indignant squeak that came from Rachel. "She thinks I'm some powerful person who can pressure you into doing whatever I want. You know, I'm back to being the HBIC and all. And she thinks you're so …pliant, that…"

"…that I'd do whatever you pressured me into doing?" Finished Rachel, indignantly.

"Right. But she's wrong, so wrong, Rachel. She may get the result she wanted, but not for the reason she thinks. Its actually the other way around. I…I'm nobody, Rachel. I'm nobody without this fucking cheerio costume. No one would listen to me without it…no one did."

A moment passed, while Quinn collected herself.

"But you…you, Rachel, are the strong one. You don't need a uniform to hide behind. You're…YOU. And you're beautiful. And you're strong. And you're doing this for me, because you know I NEED it. I need you to do this, to help me, and you're strong enough to turn the other cheek and help me."

Rachel nodded, resolutely.

"In spite of the fact, I should add, that I was an utter biyatch to you in school."

"Quinn, I knew that wasn't you…not really."

"You overestimate me, just like our host."

"No, I don't. I knew there was more to Quinn Fabray than anyone gave you credit for…and honestly, I really just wanted you and Santana and Brittany to …admit I was someone. For my talent. And maybe someday, to –y'know, maybe…like me?"

Quinn smiled sadly. "Why do you even care, Rachel? You'll be some famous Broadway star, someday, and we'll be alcoholics by the time we're thirty. Well…maybe not Brit."

Rachel pushed Quinn in the shoulder. "Well, I just wanted you to admit that. ALL OF THAT." She laughed.

Quinn laughed back. "Besides, Rachel, you know Brit always liked you. It drove San and I crazy. She always saw the good in you, in people in general, really. And while I now have but put in an unfortunate situation in which I have an opportunity, um, to be forced to admit who you are…I wouldn't hold my breath for Santana."

"Really?"

"Really. Santana would push her mother into traffic if she thought it would get her to the top of the pyramid. She has ice in her veins, that one."

"I don't know, I think you're wrong about her, Quinn."

"Berry, you don't know her like I do…and you never will. She NEVER puts herself in a spot to need someone. Ever. Not like me. And now, I'm in hella spot..a horrific spot…all because I was a STUPID sixteen year old, and I signed my rights away. I have NO RIGHTS to this child, and the only way I can see her is based on the whim of a crazy bitch- ah, um," paused Quinn. "I'm sorry, Rachel, I know she's your mother-

Rachel cut her off. "She is NOT my mother. She was my parents' surrogate. Very different." She said briskly.

They paused as they realized they had arrived at the front stoop of Chez Corcoran.

Quinn sighed. "Good. I'm glad you feel that way. Because I have a feeling that Shelby has something in mind that isn't exactly…maternal."

The door, as if on cue, creaked open.

The tall, commanding woman- striking in her beauty- gazed down at the two younger women. She narrowed her eyes.

"Welcome. You're late."

Without a sound, she turned around, and walked away. Door ajar, she left the girls to wonder if they were supposed to follow her inside.

They looked at each other, and without a word, followed silently behind the quickly disappearing figure of Shelby Corcoran.

XOXO

TBC! Review at will.