I wake up to hair all up in my face. It sort of freaks me out until I realize it's Santana's hair. It's so soft and it smells fantastic. I should ask her what shampoo and conditioner she uses. I shuffle a little because I didn't think waking up with her in my arms would feel so good but then I realize, of course, I have morning wood. Great.
I look at my clock and it's not that early so I can't wait it out because she might wake up soon and get a hell of a surprise. Like a huge surprise... I quietly and swiftly get out of bed and head to my bathroom. I sit on the closed toilet seat and pull my pants and compression shorts down. My dick slapping against my stomach; ugh, that felt good. I gotta be quick though. I don't want Santana to wake up without me.
I pull out my special lady time lotion and squirt some on my hand. I close my eyes and start moving my hand. I think of Santana. Of course.
Baby, I really want to suck your dick. Please let me suck your dick. I'll do anything. I imagine Santana begging me on her knees. Her eyes looking up at me, pleading with me to give her what she wants, what she needs. I picture her as she leans forward and starts kissing my tip, her full lips just massaging it, shit, I'm stroking my dick fast. I imagine her lips at my base and I lose it. I come all over my hand. Fuck, this is a mess. I wipe myself off and put it away. I groom myself before I check on Santana.
She's tossing and turning when I get back, her face looks sad. I kneel down on the floor next to her side, "San? San, wake up, sweet-pea." I held her hand and rubbed circles on the back of it with my thumb. Slowly but surely she opens her eyes.
"Brittany?" She groggily asks me as she scrunches her face, trying to wake up.
"Last I check." I smile at her; she adowable. "How you doing? You were fine when I got up but you worried me a bit when I came back?"
"I'm fine, just a little nightmare." She tells me as she covers her eyes with her hand.
My poor baby. I lean over and kiss the crown of her head. "Do you wanna talk about it?" I ask gently as I run my fingers through her hair.
To my surprise, she starts laughing. What the fuck? "Britt, I feel like I made this into a big deal. I swear it was no biggie. I just dreamt Bradley Cooper was chasing me with a lobster trying to get me to help him stick it in my boss's pants."
"Oh, good thing I'm not a Freudian... Well, go to the bathroom and freshen up. If you wanna shower, there are towels in the linen closet in the hall. If you want clothes, just go through my stuff. Anything else you might need should be in the bathroom cabinet. I'm going to go whip up some breakfast for you." I can't help it so I lean forward again and give a big smooch. "Take your time." I stand up and start to walk away but she slaps my ass. "AHH!"
"Sorry, I couldn't resist. Dat ass, bae. Daammnnn!" She says as she exaggeratedly licks her lips. "Yo' fine ass." We both start laughing as we start to go our separate ways.
"Don't worry! I won't make lobster for breakfast!" I yell out at her when I hear her close the bathroom door.
Recipes used to confuse the shit out of me when I moved out of mom's house but living by myself forced me to educate myself in culinary techniques. I make a bomb-ass omelet. Which is why I'm going to make it now, so I can 'wow' that cute, little law student in my bathroom. Fuck, I have to start that case study.
Before I know it, I'm setting the plates in my little breakfast nook as Santana walks out wearing some more of my running shorts and a tee. Her hairs damp and getting her shirt wet. I set out to 'wow' her but she ended up 'wowing' me. She's flawless, I swear.
"I totally get what you were saying; now that you don't have your lashes on, yuuuckk." I fake gag to emphasize my point.
She just smiles at me as she walks up to me as she playfully slaps my tummy. Man, that hurt so good.
"Really?" She raises a sexy eyebrow and holds me in place by my hips.
"Oh, definitely. Hideous. I'm not sure if you're worthy of my masterpiece breakfast." I wrap my arms around her shoulders and pull her closer. I know I joked about her lack of lashes but her eyes don't need them. I'm 99% sure they are perfect just like this.
Her hands sneak into my shirt and she starts scratching at my sides with her blunt nails. "Well, Miss Pierce, I'm famished. Is there anything I could do to be worthy of your food?"
I tilt my head and hum, feigning to be in deep thought. "Eureka! I might be inclined to share my meal with you if you could make it worth my while with a kiss."
"A kiss?"
"Yes, ma'am."
She doesn't even hesitate in bringing her lips to mine. Kissing her will never get old or tired. It feels like our first kiss every single time. Exciting, nerve-wracking, perfect.
We both pull back with idiot grins on our faces. "Definitely worth my while." I pull out her chair motioning for her to sit.
/
After lunch we cuddled up on the couch. She sat against the armrest and I sat in between her legs. Her arms around my waist, her chin leaning on my shoulder occasionally kissing my neck, her legs intertwined with mine. I've never felt like this before, normal. As if I'm not hiding anything from her.
I smile – and shiver – when I feel her kiss my neck again.
"Okay, okay, okay. I got another one: first car." She asks me. She's been asking me all these questions and lot letting me ask her a single one. Maybe she's hiding something?
"My first car was my mom's first car which was the first car her dad bought after he built his empire. A '62 Ferrari, Cali Spyder. Papa Dukes gave it to her and she kept it on point so when I got my license she gave it to me. It's in the garage. I only use it when I go out of the city. Everything is so close, driving around would be unnecessary."
Another kiss, another shiver.
"I understand, baby." I like it when she calls me that. "You had a privileged upbringing? Ferrari is super nice."
"Yeah, Papa Dukes made an insane amount of money in lumber in the late 50's. We also didn't live in the city, so everything was extremely affordable, which led to an even more privileged lifestyle. I kinda' hated it. I felt like it alienated us." I roll my eyes at myself, "I know, rich, white girl problems but you know, doesn't make it any less true."
"No, baby. I understand. I had rich, brown girl problems. Well, not as rich as you apparently." There's a nice quiet before she speaks again. "Can I ask about your dad?" She cautiously asks me.
"He was a doctor. He died before I was born. He was mugged. Mom moved back home two weeks later and a month after I was born."
Another kiss. Another shiver.
"I wish you could've met him, Britt. I'm sorry, I don't know what to say." She gently whispers into my ear and squeezes my waist even more.
"It's okay, baby. Anymore questions?"
She hums while thinking, "First crush?"
"She was prettiest girl in the second grade: Lucy Q. Fabray." I wonder what happened to her. She was so pretty.
"WAIT? Lucy Quinn Fabray?" Santana asked all shocked and shit.
I shrug, "I think that could've been her middle name. I don't know."
"She's my best friend now. But she prefers Quinn over Lucy. We totally hooked up in undergrad but she's such an uptight bitch. Match made in hell."
I don't like thinking of Santana with other people but at least I'm not naïve enough to believe she's also never been with everyone. But on the other hand, I hate knowing that she's going to compare me to all the other girls she's been with. Penis and all. "You lie, Sanny. You did not hook up with my first crush."
"I had no idea she spent so many years in Ohio. I thought she came over here when she was way younger. So it is true, all rich, white people know each other?" She snickers a little.
"Totally. We have yearly conventions to gossip about the poor white people." I use my Connecticut accent on that one.
"I bet. We have to have dinner together, baby. So we could catch up. She's actually been on my dick..." Laughing out loud in my head about the irony "... about setting her up. She's super lonely and sleeping around isn't her thing. Do you know anyone to set her up with?"
"Actually, I do. But she's a loud, little thing. Do you think that'd be a good idea if she's a stuck up bitch?"
Without skipping a beat, "How's her ass? She's an ass girl."
"It's really, really nice." I answer and she pinches my side.
She pulls me even more into her and puts her lips right next to my ear, making me shiver. "You're mine, Britt. Don't look at anyone's ass. Mine is good enough."
"No, it's not. It's not just good enough, it's perfect. I dream about your ass. And your legs and your breasts and your lips. Everything about you. Because you're mine."
Apparently my smooth talking works better than I think because we totally start to make out. It's all hot heavy but the second I sneak my hand in her shirt, she pulls away.
"Let's go slow. Slow." She breathlessly tells me.
"Yeah, slow."
We kiss a little more but then she has to leave because she has to study and do some other stuff but I wasn't really listening because she was switching shirts.
As the weeks pass, I swear she becomes even more perfect. Even with the things that people usually hate for their partners to have. Like, she snores. Not like cute kitten snoring but lumberjack snoring. But that's cute; to see someone so tiny be sooo fucking loud. I sleep like the dead so it doesn't bother me. She's also super anal. Like, I think she has to be borderline OCD. The first time I noticed it was a big thing was when she slept over but couldn't fall asleep without having her books, that were on my coffee table in the living room, in a neat pile. And she totally won't let me eat in her car because of the crumbs. And her extensions shed and clog my shower drain but it's cute that she grosses herself out cleaning her own hair. She scrunches her face and makes an adorable gagging noise. I offered to do it for her but she's all weird about it. Eh, still cute.
She's the greatest.
But she's also a fucking tease. It's been three weeks. THREE WEEKS.
Number of times I've been allowed to touch her breasts: twice. (Actually once because the second it was an "accidental" swipe/grope.)
Number of times I've ended up with blue lady balls: 84,638,597,072,547,589,607.
In no way am I ready for sex. I'm not. I'm so incredibly comfortable with Santana but there's always that tiny, tiny, nagging insecurity eating away at me. But, I don't dwell on the fact that I am a virgin anymore. I think that's major progress.
However, that doesn't mean that I can't get a little somethin' somethin' from my almost girlfriend. I just wanna explore her curvaceous bod. And I want to buy her lots and lots of gifts and chocolates and meet her parents and wax poetry and stuff.
But, I digress. We have an exam today in class. We spent the entire weekend preparing for it so we're more than prepared for it. She doesn't have work after this or other classes so I'm going to surprise her with a trip for a long weekend.
I meet her at her apartment before we have our exam. I got her favorite chocolates. She'll totally say she shouldn't but then she'll forget to offer me any because she's too busy shoving them down her throat. Super cute.
She looks fabulous as always when she pulls me into her apartment by my belt. I hardly get a chance to look at her because she's attacking me with her mouth. Her perfect mouth. She doesn't let me handle her sweater puppies but she always take full reign over mine. Ugh, her perfect hands.
"Babe, Sanny, we gotta go. We have an exam." I tell her between kisses.
"Ugh, fucking law school is cramping my style. Why can't you be my sugar mamma?" She mumbled against my chest.
"Because maybe I want you to be my sugar mamma."
"Touche."
/
The exam was fairly simple. Well, for us anyway. Santana has an extremely unique take on everything. Not only does it draw me in even more than she already does, it makes getting through the material a lot easier. I finished before her because she has triple check her work to make sure her perfect handwriting is perfect and legible. She says it's because she's a lefty but it's really her pseudo – OCD.
I wait by the front door and the second she walks out, I sneakily get her in a fireman's hold.
"Brittany! What are you doing?!" She yells as she clutches onto me.
"Nothing. You're mine for the weekend. I am just making sure nothing happens to you." I nod at people we walk by so they don't think I'm kidnapping her or something illegal.
Whew, thanks to my choice parking, we don't have to walk long to reach my car. "I'm sure nothing going to happen to me on the way to your apartment, Britt." I manage to get my key out and open the car door.
"We," I set her down in the car seat and scurry off to my side "are not going back to the apartment. We're going away for a while."
"Oh, really?"
"Totally." I rev before driving off.
/
It shouldn't have been a huge surprise because I have told her that my family has a small cabin outside the city. But she had no clue.
"Babe, this is yours?" She asked as she pressed her face against the window. It's not even that big of a place, but it's the pretty stone fountain in the middle of the driveway that draws everyone's attention.
"It's my mom's. Mine is in Northern Italy." I wink at her. I've only been there once for 21st birthday with Rachel. It's nice but my Papa Dukes was crazy to spend that much on a vacation place for me. Maybe I'll be able to take Santana there? Maybe then I'll be able to take her and our kids? Hopefully.
"Holy shit."
I smile at her and shift into park. "Here we are."