"Stop it," you said.

Your eyes were still closed, but you could tell it was already bright out. It might have been 7AM, or two in the afternoon. You didn't care. But, you could feel Brittany's eyes on you, even though she thought you were asleep.

"Stop it," you said again.

"I'm not doing anything," she said.

"You're watching me sleep, and it's stressing me out."

"Why does that stress you out?"

"Because I have to think about how my face looks, and if I have bad breath, or if I'm drooling, or if my mouth is hanging open. Too many things to think about this early."

"It's three."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

Brittany's arms were still wrapped around you and her body was pressed to yours. At some point you had kicked off the covers because Brittany's skin has always radiated enough heat to keep the both of you warm. It reminded you of that time at cheer camp last year when you and Brittany snuck out to the lake shore to watch the meteor shower. You had left in such a hurry, you forgot to carry out the big blanket, but Brittany just straddled you from behind and wrapped her arms around you. It felt so safe, you wanted to get lost in that memory for a while.

"What?" she asked.

"Hmm?"

"You went somewhere else right now."

"How can you tell?"

"I can tell," she said. "Where did you go?"

"Camp Chapaqqua," you said quietly, sinking deeper into her arms.

Brittany pulled her left arm out from underneath you and swung her right leg over you. She was pinning you to the bed, while she pulled your arms up towards your ears. Your eyes finally opened, and your eyes met.

"What about Camp Chapaqqua?"

"I was just thinking about..." you trailed off. Unpinning one of your hands and pulling Britt's head towards you, so you could whisper in her ear. "How you wrapped your legs around me that night at the lake, and how I wanted you so badly right then. If I knew then what I know now, I would have..." you trailed off again.

This time, you didn't finish the sentence. You weren't teasing her anymore, you weren't trying to turn her on. You were about to tell her that, if you had been more confident right there, you would have taken her in the sand - ripped her clothes off, kissed and licked her whole body. But that was the thing you told yourself you wouldn't say. You wouldn't tell Brittany that you had loved her from the moment you clapped eyes on her. It was too much and you knew it.

"You would have what?" Brittany asked.

"I would have..." you struggled to come up with an alternate ending to that sentence. "I would have...not felt as bad for not bringing that other blanket. You're like a fucking space heater."

"Oh...sorry," she said, trying to pull herself away from you. Her eyes looked disappointed.

"No, no, no, no," you said quickly. "Not like that. Not a bad thing."

You took her lips in yours and trailed your tongue across her lips and deep into her mouth. She me it with hers and your kiss was hot, and wet and you could feel it everywhere. Your hips bucked against hers and you felt that familiar warmth between your legs.

"Fuck, Britt," you whispered. "You make me so wet."

Your comments were all quickly forgotten in a frenzy of roaming hands and interlocking limbs, sloppy kisses and trailing love bites. She sat up. You laid back, arms resting above your head, and you enjoyed the view from below: Brittany's rock-solid abs, shining from your combined perspiration, her perfectly round breasts, her light pink nipples - hardened slightly - and her long blonde hair cascading down her back. She stretched backwards, and put her head back. She threw her hair in a hair tie she kept on her wrist, and while she did you watched her muscles flex and her breasts bounce slightly at the motion. You couldn't help moving your hips against hers.

"Am I turning you on, baby?" She still tying her hair, but grinding down on your hips.

All you could do was close your eyes, bite your lip and nod.

"Well, you should enjoy this. The alarm is about to go off."

"Ugh, no," you moaned, scrunching your face up in annoyance.

The alarm went off a few seconds later, but instead of the usual buzzing or blaring, the alarm clock started playing a few low beats quietly at first, then louder. You recognized it immediately as one of Britt's favorite club-ready hits, and knew this was going to be amazing.

She put her arms over her head, her hands in her hair, and she let it out of the ponytail she had just made. She moved her hips against yours, the only thing separating the two of you was the thin, and now damp silky fabric of Brittany's thong. The beat was steady and the bass was low, and you thought you were going to pass out from wanting Brittany so badly.

She turned her head in sync with her hips and swung her lustrous hair forward only to whip it back in time with the music. You hands migrated towards her hips and you gripped her thighs as she started grinding lower onto you - her hands roaming her own body, gripping her breasts and touching her hair, and moving her hips. She grabbed one of your hands and brought your index finger in her mouth. Her tongue was warm and rough to your touch. She trailed your hand from her lips, down her chin, her neck and in between her breasts. She threw her head back and you continued the line she had started and kept moving past her ribs and outlined her abs. You gathered your strength and you sat up to meet Brittany's posture, but now she was sitting on your lap, legs spread, her nipples at the perfect height to your mouth. You seized the opportunity and take the right one between your lips and sucked gently, eliciting a low moan from Britt, and she leaned her head in and her lips touched your ear and her breath felt warm all the way down to your neck.

"Do it. Now," was all she managed to whisper.

You knew what to do and dipped your hand down her soaked thong. You had garnered enough practice lately to understand how fast and how far you needed to go to make Britt moan and beg for more. You knew when her hips bucked a certain way that she wanted you to go deeper, to go faster. But this time she surprised you by adding her hand to yours, matching its movements as your fingers moved over and around her clit.

"Mmmm" she moaned.

"Show me how," you whispered.

Her movements guided you. Her hips bucked against you. You started grinding fast and harder against your fingers. Her breath grew ragged and her eyes closed tighter.

"Baby, yes," she said after a while, in a pitch so high it was barely audible. She clenched her whole body for a few seconds: she shook and bucked and twisted and then relaxed, completely.

You held her like that for a minute. She had given out from exhaustion and was resting all her weight on you, her head on your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around her waist and she wrapped hers around your shoulders. Your eyes were closed and you listened to your collective deep breathing.

"Britt," you started.

"That was..." she said, but trailed off.

"Totally hot," said a third voice that sent Brittany flying off the bed and onto the ground beside it. Her eyes were wide and scared.

Noah Puckerman was standing at the door frame; arms crossed and leering.

Fuck.