TITLE: The Seduction
DISCLAIMERS AND OTHER STUFF: See Chapter 1; for Chapter 3, "At Last" belongs to Mack Gordon and Harry Warren (songwriters), and Etta James ('cause she sings it best).
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, this is it, guys. The end. (For now. I have other Puckleberry stories in mind, but it'll take a while for me to flesh them out.) Thanks again for all the reviews, alerts and favourites - they made writing this story all the more enjoyable. Merry Christmas!
Chapter 3: Sleep with me tonight
Rachel sends Puck downstairs to get a bucket and a sponge, so that she can clean up the foam from the fire extinguisher. He does so without bothering to put any clothes on: "Why should I, babe? Your dads aren't home, and you know you love to admire my hot bod", he says, as he struts out the door. Rachel stares at his behind the entire time.
While he's gone, she walks around her bedroom turning on lights, and blowing out candles. No need to tempt fate by keeping them lit, after all. She then heads into her bathroom to blow out the candles in there. As she reaches over to switch off the Jacuzzi jets (feeling a momentary twinge of guilt for leaving them on and wasting energy), her knees give way and she collapses on the edge of the tub. She is coming down from not one, but two adrenaline rushes, and her body is drained. After a few minutes of congratulating herself for her quick thinking and ability to keep calm in a crisis - unlike some well-muscled, so-called studly, Mohawked people she knows - her mind turns to the other event that has left her so physically exhausted. She just had sex, if only sort of. (There was vaginal penetration of a kind, so Rachel classifies it as "sex", and not as "making out".) She just had sort of-sex with Noah Puckerman. Her boyfriend. If someone had told her six months ago that this would happen, she would have strongly urged them to seek professional evaluation of the state of their mental health. But now...
Now, the thought of sex with Noah seems like the most natural and reasonable thing in the world. She can still feel a warm, tingling sensation between her legs, where Noah kissed her so intimately and set every nerve in her body ablaze. She reflects on the experience (her first sexual encounter, is after all, rich material from which to draw upon when she matures from portraying stunning young ingenues to alluring women of the world): what it was like when her brain shut down, and all she could do was feel; the sound of Noah's moans as he sated his needs with her body; the exhilaration of being pleasured so much it hurt in the best possible way; how it felt to give control over to someone else so wholly and completely...
It's in that moment that Rachel Berry realizes she's in love with Noah Puckerman. Like, totally, head-over-heels, crazy-in-love.
The realization literally makes her freeze where she sits, which is how Noah finds her when he returns with the cleaning supplies.
"What's wrong, Rach?", he asks, voice laced with concern. "Did I hurt you?"
Rachel looks up at him and starts to cry (for real, not on demand). Before Noah can say anything, though, she wipes the tears from her face, lets out a shaky laugh, and goes to wrap him in her arms.
"Nothing's wrong, Noah. I'm fine. You didn't hurt me. In fact, you made me feel so incredible and amazing, I don't have the words to describe it."
Looking down at her with one eyebrow raised, he replies, "You? Don't have words? Mark your calendars, everybody! It's a miracle!"
Rachel gently knees him in the groin, reminding him not to make fun of her when he's in such a vulnerable position. He gets the message and puts on his "serious face". Then she says, "It's just that I'm so... overwhelmed by everything. The kissing, and the touching, and the orgasming, and the putting-out-of-raging-fires. I'm just..."
"Overwhelmed", Noah repeats. Then, softly pressing his lips to her hair he says, "I get it. Me, too."
Sighing, Rachel looks up at him and says, "Come to bed? We can clean up everything in the morning."
Waggling his eyebrows in (what he thinks is) a suggestive manner, Noah drawls, "You wanna try again, baby?"
"No, I just... I just want to go to bed with you."
So together, they put out the rest of the candles, turn off all the lights, and climb into Rachel's bed. They fall asleep with arms and legs intertwined, fingers interlaced.
I remain a gentle man
In the days following Rachel's first real sexual encounter at the extremely talented hands - and tongue - of Noah Puckerman, the level of her horniness increases to incalculable heights. She thinks that she may very well be hornier than Noah.
"No fucking way, Berry", he tells her when she casually informs him of this. "No one is hornier than me."
"Yes fucking way", she replies. She has become more at ease with swearing casually, a fact which Noah - on more than one occasion - has told her he finds incredibly hot. ("Why do you think I keep doing it?", is her coy response.)
"Wanna bet?", Noah asks, in his best "I'm-Noah-Puckerman-and-the-baddest-of-badasses" voice.
"That depends. What are the terms?"
Noah grins like a shark. "We're gonna compete to see who can drive the other crazier. We're gonna make sexual innuendoes, and flirt like crazy. We're gonna have oral sex and manual sex... maybe even at the same time. No fucking, though, because this is about teasing, and wanting, and needing, and begging. Whoever makes the other call out their name first, wins."
"And what does winner get?"
"The winner gets the loser to do anything he" - "Or she", Rachel interrupts - "wants."
"Fine. I accept your terms. I already know what I'm going to get you to do", Rachel replies in her best "I-am-Rachel-Berry-and-I-get-everything-I-want" voice.
"Oh, please", Noah snorts. "I'm so gonna kick your ass, Berry. You're playing on my turf now. I was built for this."
And so it begins.
They spend the next week touching, teasing, kissing, nibbling, tickling, whispering sweet nothings and very dirty somethings, biting, tonguing, rubbing, giggling, stroking, winking, fondling, smiling, licking, groping and grabbing each other. At school, they do it in hallways, in classrooms (only the empty ones, of course, because not even the extremely talented hands and tongue of Noah Puckerman can get Rachel Berry to jeopardize her stellar academic record), in the bathrooms, at lunch, at glee practice, in the janitors' closets (most of which are unused, because Principal Figgins had to cut the cleaning budget. Again.). At home, they're in bedrooms, in hallways, in the kitchen, in the bathroom (something about the cool tiles pressed against her heated flesh drives Rachel wild), on the couches, on the floor, against the walls. In public, they do it in movie theatres and bowling alleys, on sidewalks and in secluded areas of neighbourhood parks, in large restaurants over-lit by cheap fluorescents, and in tiny cafes with only a single floor lamp for illumination.
Rachel loves it. The performer in her thrills at the freedom of being in love (and in heat) and letting the whole world know about it. For its part, the whole world - or, at least, the McKinley High student body, her parents, and random strangers - is giving her a wide berth. Rachel likes to think it's because they can't stand to get too close to her and Noah, lest they be overwhelmed by the waves of pure, unadulterated bliss emanating from them. When Kurt tells her, "Actually, Rachel, the reason no one wants to be near you and Mr. Puckerman is because the two of you are so disgustingly cute it makes us want to projectile vomit. Violently. In perfect sync.", Rachel just giggles, plants a loud, smacking kiss on his cheek, and says, "Oh Kurtsie, thank you for being so happy for me!"
"Never, ever do that again", Kurt replies, with a dangerous glint in his eye.
"What, call you 'Kurtsie'?"
"No. Kiss me. Do you have any idea how sensitive the products I use on my face are? One negative reaction caused by a foreign chemical - because god only knows where your lips have been - and I could end up looking like a leper!"
But not even Kurt can bring Rachel down. She is gloriously, deliriously happy. Finally, she is a (mostly) normal girl, with a (mostly) normal boyfriend, having a (mostly) normal high school relationship. (She's not sure that normal girls have to pack several changes of underwear wherever she goes, due to the fact that her boyfriend might make her come any time, anywhere.)
One morning during study hall, Rachel drags Noah into the paper supply closet, sure that she has the perfect thing to make him scream her name and, therefore, lose the bet. Gesturing for him to sit on one of the stacks of photocopy paper so that his crotch is at eye level (she no longer kneels to pleasure him orally, because the tell-tale bruises on her knees are visible to everyone, due to the length of her skirts), Rachel quickly undoes his jeans, takes his penis into her hand, and begins stroking it. Once she feels he is sufficiently erect, she takes him into her mouth and slides her lips up and down his length. Noah is already moaning and bucking his hips, so Rachel ups the ante by beginning to hum "Sunshine of Your Love". She thinks this is a particularly brilliant stroke of genius, not only because of the unique rhythm of the bass guitar, but also because the song was written and performed by Cream. By now, Noah is thrusting so hard, she has to brace herself against his legs to keep from falling over. Just as she reaches the "Looo-o-o-o-o-o-ooooove!" part of the song, Noah collapses forward, digs his fingers into her shoulders, buries his face in her hair, and bites down on the pulse point where her neck and shoulder meet. Hard.
Rachel's body responds immediately: her nipples harden, her belly tightens, moisture pools between her legs, and a bolt of electricity shoots down her spine.
"Oh my god, Noah!", she cries out.
Oh no.
Damn.
Not being one to leave a task unfinished, Rachel finishes giving Noah his blow job. (Besides, this way, she doesn't have to look at the shit-eating grin of triumph currently spreading across his face.) Once he comes, she cleans him off (she also always makes make sure to pack baby wipes along with her extra panties), and waits for him to button his jeans. Then she says, in the flattest voice imaginable, "Fine. You win. You're the studliest stud there ever was in the history of Stud-dom. What do you want me to do?"
She watches with wide eyes as Noah practically stalks towards her (and, if she thought she was turned on before, it's nothing compared to how aroused she is now. He looks so... dangerous.) When he is as close to her as he can possibly be, he leans down and whispers in her ear, drawing out the words for effect: "I want you... to tell me... exactly what you're feeling, now that I've won... and you've lost."
Rachel thinks back over the course of the week. She remembers the delight and affection in Noah's eyes every time she did or said something that made him smile, or blush, or come. She remembers how he worked so hard to find new ways to excite and pleasure her, even if it was just with a perfectly chosen set of words ("I wanna pop your cherry, Berry, and lick every last drop of your sweet, sweet juice.") Mostly, though, she remembers how careful - how gentle - he was with her, despite his competitive streak and clear desire to win the bet. He never pushed her too far out of her comfort zone. He never laughed - well, not too hard, anyway - when one of her attempts to make him scream her name fell flat (every now and then, just as she was driving him over the edge, she'd quickly blurt, "What's my name, baby?" to try to trick him. But, it never worked. He'd always answer "princess", "baby", "honey", "lover", "my girl", "hot sexy mama", "babe", "beautiful", and practically every other term of endearment known to man... but never "Rachel"). Most importantly, though, he never made her feel that their game was just a game to him. Rachel looks back over all of this, and knows exactly what she's feeling.
"I love you, Noah", she says seriously, her large brown eyes looking straight into his.
My cards are on your table
Puck's brain has shut down (well, not completely, otherwise he'd be dead. But higher order thinking? Totally compromised.). Rachel has just told him she loves him, like it's the most natural and reasonable thing in the world. But she said it right after giving him the best blow job ever (seriously, that's why he leaned over and bit her neck. He was thisclose to roaring her name, and he didn't want to lose the bet. He'd had no idea that it'd make her cry out his name, though. Honest.... Okay, maybe he did, a little bit.). So Puck's not sure that she didn't say it only because she's revved up from all the hot, sweaty action. Then, he takes a closer look at her face, and her eyes, and understands that she means it. She actually, totally means it.
Fuck.
He wasn't expecting them to get to this point so soon (and definitely not in the paper supply closet at school), and now he's feeling all this pressure, because if he doesn't say it back right away, or if he does but says it wrong, then everything great and wonderful about what they have will turn to shit. And it'll be all his fault. Which is totally unfair, because it's not like he doesn't love her. How can she not know that? Sure, he doesn't say it (maybe that's why she doesn't know it, dumb ass), but he shows it, doesn't he? Why else would he have done all that girly shit with the dinner, and the roses, and the iPod? How can she not know?
"How can I not know what?", asks Rachel who, he's alarmed to notice, is looking very small, and worried, and vulnerable.
Shit. Did he say that last part out loud? Damn. Taking a deep breath (here goes, Puckerman... Don't. Fuck. It. Up.), he says, "How can you not know that I love you, too?"
Puck expected that Rachel might have several reactions to what he just said: she might kiss him, or hug him, or giggle like a little girl on Vitamin D, or shove him to the floor and take him right there (which would have been his preference, of course). What he didn't expect was for Rachel to poke him sharply in his solar plexus. Twice.
"Ow! What the fuck was that for?"
"That was for taking so long to answer!", Rachel replied, eyes blazing. "And this," she continues, "This is for eventually saying the right thing." She shoves him to the floor and takes him right there.
Sort of.
Just as she's about to remove her shirt, Puck reaches up, grabs her hands, and says, "Wait, baby. Stop." (Dude! What the fuck are you doing? Rachel is about to give you the ride of your life, and you're telling her to stop?!) Upon her look of utter surprise, he says, "I just... I just don't want our first time to be in the paper closet at school. What happened to it being 'perfect and special and magical'?"
Rachel answers, "We love each other, Noah. Sex will be perfect and special and magical wherever we do it." She quickly undoes his jeans, reaches for his dick, and says wickedly, "Want to see?"
But Puck... can't. (Well, of course he can... he's the God of Sex. He can do it any time, any where, any place, any position... even blindfolded with one arm tied behind his back. This, as most of the housewives in Lima could tell you, is a scientifically proven fact.) But, he doesn't want to. Not now, not like this. Looking away from Rachel, he says quietly, "No, babe. Let's not. I wanna give you exactly what you've always wanted, and I know you want the candles - okay, maybe not the candles", he admits, seeing the look on Rachel's face. "But, definitely the low lighting, and the flowers, and the soft music, and all that stuff."
Taking his face in both her hands, Rachel croons, "Awww... you're just the sweetest widdle romantic Pucksie, aren't you?"
"Shut up, I am not!"
"Are too!"
"Am not!"
Puck rolls over, pins Rachel down, and begins tickling her mercilessly. When she can no longer breathe because she's squealing and laughing so hard, he scoops her up and settles her in his lap. They stay like that for a while, she catching her breath, and he reveling in the scent of her hair. After a few minutes, Rachel looks up at him and says, "Noah, it really is unnecessary for you to continue going to such lengths to make our first sexual experience together special. I think we should have learned by now that the best laid - pardon the pun - plans don't always work out the way they should, and that perhaps we should simply relax and enjoy each other's company and bodies, and when the time is right for us to engage in full sexual intercourse, we will."
"I know, but..."
"But what?"
"God... I was so mean to you, Rach! I slushied you at least once a day, and made your life a living hell for almost two years! And I used you to get back at Quinn because she made me feel like shit, and also to get back at Finn because I knew he had a crush on you and seeing you with me was gonna hurt him. I was so tired of how everything I wanted came to him so fucking easy! And then I pulled you into the whole baby drama bullshit, even though I knew it hurt you because you still cared for Finn, but you were there for me anyway. And now you're with me, and you love me, and I don't deserve it. So I wanna prove to you that I do!"
Puck lets out a deep breath, and runs his hand over his Mohawk. He's not sure where all that stuff came from, but it feels really good to say it. Looking down at Rachel, he waits for her response. Once again, it isn't what he expected.
"Noah, you're an idiot."
The hell?
"You think I didn't think about any of that before we got back together? You think I didn't know that becoming involved with you was a huge risk, because you were such an asshole to me, and I wasn't 100-percent sure that you wouldn't be again? I did, Noah. I saw what you were. But I also saw what you were becoming. You changed, Noah. You grew up. You made mistakes, and were an asshole - "You said that, already, Berry." - but you owned up to it. You're brave, and you're strong in the ways that matter - not that your guns aren't impressive, of course, because they most certainly are - and you're loyal, and sweet, and gentle, and I love you." Turning around to straddle him, she finishes, "Let me show you."
As she leans in to softly press her lips against his, Puck thinks that he is the luckiest guy in the world. He runs his hands up Rachel's back, before digging his fingers into her hair and deepening the kiss. As he opens his mouth to welcome her tongue, he breathes, "Oh, Rachel", happy to be able to call out her name again.
"Oh, Puck", she sighs, as she grinds her hips down into him.
"Oh, Rachel", he says again, as his fingers travel along the hem of her skirt, and eventually find their way into her underwear.
"Oh, Puck!", she cries out, as she spreads her knees wider for him so he can stroke her, while she slides her hand into his jeans.
"Ohh, Rachel!", he groans, as she cups his balls and begins massaging them.
"Oh! Puck! Rachel! What are you two doing in here?!"
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
"On second thought, don't answer that", says Tina, coming up behind Artie, whose mouth is still hanging open in shock. "We can see what you two are doing in here."
Rachel leaps off Puck in a show of agility that has him wondering what else she can do with that tiny body of hers, and quickly straightens herself out. Puck, on the other hand, stands up languidly and slowly redoes his jeans, his trademark smirk upon his face. He goes over to Rachel and puts his arm around her, before giving Artie and Tina the once-over. Then he says, "Yeah. We were just doing what it looks like you two came in here to do."
At this, Artie's mouth snaps shut, and his face turns bright red, while Tina's stutter makes a return appearance. "N-no, w-w-we just c-came in here be-be-because we n-needed some paper f-for art class, a-a-and..."
"Save it guys. I've seen you two drooling over each other during glee practice -"
"Really?", Artie interrupts, in his usual dry, matter-of-fact tone. "I'm surprised you even noticed, given how you're always undressing Rachel with your eyes. And sometimes with your hands".
Ignoring him, Puck continues, "So it's about time you got it on." Making a grand sweeping gesture with his arm, he says, "The room's yours. We're done here."
As he leads Rachel out the door, he bends over and growls in her ear,
"For now."
My dreams are in your bed
The first time Rachel Berry and Noah Puckerman have sex, it's in the choir room at school. After hours. On top of the grand piano. (If Tinkles only knew.)
The school is empty because, as Principal Figgins said to Rachel when he gave her the keys to the main door of building, "I had to give the security staff the night off. It's bingo night at the senior citizens' home, and they need all the back-up they can get." He nods knowingly. "I trust that the school will be safe in your hands, Miss Berry?"
"Of course, Principal Figgins! You know that I would never allow any suspicious persons on school grounds, or participate in any untoward behaviour that could besmirch William McKinley High School, named for the greatest President that ever lived!", Rachel gushed in her best "I-am-the-most-responsible-student-you'll-ever-have" voice.
Rachel and Puck are staying late to work on a duet that Rachel just knows is going to help them win at Regionals. She had gone through her fathers' extensive jazz collection over the weekend, and discovered Etta James' "At Last". She thinks it's the perfect song because it's a jazz standard (which will win over the older, more conservative judges), she can belt it out to the rafters (which will win over everybody), and "Because, Noah, it is our song. At last, we have found our love, which will be made clear by our obvious chemistry on stage, as we serenade each other while staring deeply into each other's eyes. The judges will be so overcome by such a rich and textured performance by two people who are so young, but who clearly possess an emotional depth beyond their years, that they will have no choice but to recognize that officially."
Puck doesn't say anything, just looks at Rachel with love in his eyes. These days, that's pretty much how he looks at her all the time. Yes, he knows he's pathetic. Yes, he knows he's whipped. And, no, he doesn't care. Rachel is his, and he is hers - that's the only thing that matters to him. (Well, that, and his little girl. And also that he's still a badass, especially with his nun-chucks. Just ask any of the fuckers he's beat down at fight club.)
For her part, Rachel is glad that Mr. Schue turned out to be right: there is a boy out there who loves all the things she'd like to change about herself. She knows that she can be obsessive, and bossy, and exacting, yet Noah is here with her, late on a Tuesday evening, rehearsing the same song over, and over, and over again, until she feels it's perfect. (Except, of course, it is never perfectly perfect, which is why she gets up from the piano bench, where she has been re-arranging a section of the duet, and asks Noah to run through it again.)
Puck and Rachel walk to the centre of the room, and stand a few feet apart, facing each other. She begins, her voice ringing pure and true:
At last
My love has come along
My lonely days are over
And life is like a song
He continues, his rougher, less-refined voice creating a nice contrast to her perfectly clear tones:
At last
The skies above are blue
My heart was wrapped up in clovers
The night I looked at you
They harmonize, the warmth of his voice providing the ground for her soaring melody:
I found a dream that I could speak to
A dream that I can call my own
I found a thrill to rest my cheek to
A thrill that I have never known
Then finally, they sing in unison:
Well, you smile, you smile
Oh, and then the spell was cast
And here we are in heaven
For you are mine
At last
By the time they finish, they have somehow ended up face to face, nose to nose, breath to breath. They stare deeply into each other's eyes (just like Rachel said they would) for the longest moment. Then, in a voice thick with emotion, Puck says, "You're mine, Rachel. Mine."
Rachel answers, "Absolutely, Noah. And you are mine."
Their lips meet at the same time, in a soft, tender kiss that quickly grows in depth and intensity, as though they can't get enough of each other. And, it's true. They can't get enough of each other. It's not as though they haven't kissed before - they've done all sorts of things before. But, there's something about this kiss, in particular, that feels different. Maybe it's because of the way their voices blended together as they sang. Maybe it's because of the song itself. Maybe it's because of the way they looked at each other when they finished singing, eyes full of emotions that couldn't be expressed with words. Or, maybe it's simply because they're staying late on a Tuesday evening, doing what they love with the person they love. (And maybe also because they're both still really, really horny.)
Whatever the reason, Puck and Rachel are kissing fiercely, their tongues slipping and sliding around each other, while their fingers dance all over their bodies. Rachel is whimpering Noah's name, while Puck can only groan with pleasure into her mouth.
"Noah", Rachel pants when she comes up for air. "I want you. I need you. Now."
Puck grunts in response, and picks Rachel up. She wraps her legs around his waist, and begins to kiss him again. Puck starts walking, with the intention of taking her over to the risers and having his way with her there. But, because his view is obscured by a Rachel-shaped figure, he ends up walking straight into the piano.
"Ouch!" Rachel cries out, as her tailbone meets the hard edge of the instrument.
"Oh, shit! Sorry, babe", he apologizes. "I couldn't see where I was going because someone was blocking my view."
"Bite me", Rachel replies.
"Okay", says Puck. He sets her down on top of the piano, brushes her hair aside, and bites down on the pulse point where her neck and shoulder meet. Hard. Rachel screams in pleasure and arches her back. She then wraps her legs around his waist and pulls his body flush against hers.
"You are so going to get punished for that", she says.
"Oh, yeah?", Puck challenges. "What are you gonna do to me, Berry?"
"This." She uses one hand to grab the back of his head and press his mouth to hers, sucking and nibbling on his lower lip, while she snakes her other hand up his shirt and scores her fingernails down his back.
"Jesus!", Puck yells. "That's it, Berry. You are going down."
"No, Noah," she tells him with a mischievous look in her eye. "You are."
With that, she leans back on the piano, draws her knees up, and quickly removes her underwear. "Taste me, Noah", she begs. "Touch me. Take me."
In an instant, Puck is there. Like, totally there. He uses one arm to support Rachel at her back, and uses the other to brace himself against the curved edge of the piano. He then dips his head under Rachel's skirt, presses his face into the downy hair between her legs, and takes a long, slow, lick. Rachel shudders from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes, so he does it again. And again. And again. As Rachel begins to buck against his face, Puck slips two fingers deep inside her, and curls them upwards.
"Oh, yeeeeesssss!", Rachel moans, as Puck begins to slide his fingers in and out. "God, Puck, please don't stop! Please don't ever stop!" She is riding his hand hard and fast now, and Puck can tell that she's going to come very soon. He wants to taste her when she does, so he inserts a third finger, then takes her clit into his mouth. He times the sucking of her clit with the thrusting of her hips, faster, and faster, and faster, until,
"Oh, god! Yes, yes, yes, yesssssssss!" Puck's pretty sure that the note Rachel just hit would be impossible for anyone other than his girl. It makes him proud.
Standing upright again, he removes his fingers from within Rachel, and starts to bring them up to his mouth. He wants to savour every last drop of her sweet, berry-flavoured juice. Rachel, however, takes his hand and brings it up to her own mouth. Then she slowly and deliberately licks off each of the fingers he had inside her, all while looking straight at him. Puck's eyes almost roll back in his head, he is so turned on. He can't believe that this girl - this hot, beautiful, sexy, dirty girl - is his.
Rachel, quickly recovering from her orgasm and getting ready for round two, kicks off her flats, hooks one leg around Puck and brings him back up against her body. She begins to kiss him all over his face, reveling especially in the fullness of his lips. "Oh, Noah... I want you so much", she breathes. "Make love to me?"
"Yes", is his only reply, before grabbing her face between his hands and kissing her deeply. Rachel undoes the buttons of his shirt, and slides it off his shoulders. She then trails her fingers lightly down his chest, giggling softly when his stomach contracts at her touch. Reaching his belt, she makes quick work of the buckle, before swiftly undoing the button of his jeans and pulling down the zipper. When her fingers find his penis almost immediately, she thinks that Noah picked a really good day to go commando.
By this point, Puck has snapped open Rachel's bra (with one hand, of course, because he is the man), and is slowly lifting her sweater over her head. Once it's off, she removes her bra, and he wraps his arms around her so that the soft flesh of her boobs rubs against his bare chest. "God, Rachel", he whispers, "I love you."
Their bodies are moving almost of their own accord now, kissing each other hungrily. Rachel runs her nails up and down Puck's back, while he teases her nipples with each hand. She arches into his touch, legs spread wide beneath her skirt. Puck can feel her heat against his belly, and it almost makes him come. Reaching around to his back pocket, he removes his wallet. Rachel takes it from him, opens it, and removes a condom. "Here, baby. Let me", she says. She uses her hands, and then her feet, to push his jeans down his legs until they're puddled around his ankles. Opening the small foil packet, she slowly rolls the condom on, gently stroking him all the time. Puck's hips jerk, and his dick twitches automatically. He can't wait to be inside his girl, feeling her tightness envelop him.
Leaning back on the piano again, Rachel looks Puck in the eye and commands, "Fuck me, Noah. Hard."
There's no need to tell him twice.
He hooks one arm under Rachel's leg to hoist it over his shoulder, and uses his free hand to guide his dick into her. She's soooo tight, and wet, and hot, the sensation almost makes him faint. (Almost.) Slowly, he pushes deeper and deeper, until Rachel makes a little squeak of pain.
"I'm sorry, baby. Does it hurt?"
"Yes", she whimpers.
"Do you want me to stop?"
"No. Just wait."
So he does. He can feel Rachel try to relax, attempting to get used to the sensation of being so completely filled by him. Gently, oh-so-gently, she starts to clench and unclench her muscles around his dick. It's almost too much to bear, but he understands that this is what she needs to do. So he remains perfectly still and thinks about dead mailmen.
Soon, she exhales deeply, and says to him, "Okay. Now."
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
Slowly, Puck begins to pull out of her. When he's almost out, he slowly slides back in. He does it twice more, until Rachel hooks her other leg around his waist, in order to push him in deeper. That's how he knows that it is on. He starts pumping faster, watching as Rachel's eyes flutter closed and her head falls back. She starts to make that low, rumbling sound in her throat again, which drives him even faster and harder. The feeling of being inside her is better than he'd ever imagined. He just... fits, and it comforts him in a way he wasn't expecting.
The heat generated by Noah's penis sliding in and out of her, coupled with the almost feral growls he's making, causes Rachel to writhe in ecstasy. She takes her leg off his shoulder and draws her knees up, opening her legs wide to take Noah in as deeply as she can. She is unable to form words: just whimpers, pants, and moans of intense, immense pleasure. She never thought she could feel like this. She never thought she could be as connected to someone as she is right now. It brings tears to her eyes which, for some reason, only heightens her desire.
As she starts to feel a warm, buzzing pressure build deep within her, she sits up and locks her arms around Noah's neck, pressing her body to his. The feeling of her over-sensitized nipples rubbing against the hairs on his chest drives her into a frenzy, and she drags her fingers down the hard, muscular planes of his back, before digging them into his taut behind. Realizing that she is about to climax like she never has before, her throat opens and "UNF-UNF-UNF!" comes pouring out. Noah is biting into her shoulder again, and making the same noise, only louder, and deeper. He's fucking her so hard now, she actually slides a few inches across the top of the piano. She synchronizes the bucking of her hips to the rhythm of Noah's thrusts, riding him as he rides her. She is so wet and slick, she wonders how he's managing to stay inside her at all. They buck and thrust and thrust and buck until finally - finally - they come together in one long, wordless, exultant shout.
Panting, Noah collapses on top of Rachel, his penis still buried deep within her. Pushing her sweat-soaked hair away from her face, he says, "How was that, baby?"
Rachel pretends to consider his question for a moment, before replying, "You were right, Noah."
"Right about what?"
"They aren't rumours."
The end.
(Sort of.)