Sam has a dream that he's at the dentist's, only it's not a real dentist, it's one of the dudes from Full House. And then Britney Spears is dancing around him for no reason, and then all of a sudden she's going down him!

So when he wakes up, it takes him a minute to realize that he's not actually in a dentist's chair, and Britney Spears is not actually blowing him. But Brittany S. Pierce actually is.

Not that he objects or anything—like, at all—but he's still a little groggy and confused, and he finds himself asking, "What are you doing, babe?"

Brittany lifts her head and smiles at him, to the extent that she can really smile with her mouth full of his cock. She mumbles something, but he can't understand her at all.

"What?" he asks.

She removes his dick from her mouth this time—though she does keep stroking it—and says, "I said I woke up and my throat was still sore."

That supposed answer doesn't really explain anything, but by now Sam is awake enough to realize that her reason isn't really important and he'd be an idiot to interrupt her again. So he shuts his mouth and lays his head back on the pillow and lets Brittany S. Pierce do her thing.

And, god. The thing she's doing now is a super nice way to wake up.

Brittany's sorry for waking Sam up. He looks so cute when he sleeps. It's just, well, she really needs something thick and creamy in her throat after screaming so much during sex. And, yeah, her Sammy looks cute when he's sleeping, but his dick looks cutest when it's awake.

Not that she can see it at the moment, of course, but she can feel it waking up in her mouth, and that's even better. Plus it still tastes like her cum, and a little bit like his, although most of his is inside her. And soon there will be even more inside her!

She licks and licks until he's completely hard under her tongue, and then she licks some more. When he starts to moan she plays with his balls while continuing to lick. When he mumbles, "God, Britt," and starts to thrust, then she forms a tight seal around his dick and starts to really suck.

Sam's still not really thinking very clearly, which, given what it is he's been woken up to, isn't really that surprising. He doesn't even bother to wonder whether he should be trying to do something for Brittany while she's doing this for him, or whether he should be trying to last longer than he did the first time she did this for him this afternoon. No, he just lies there and enjoys it more and more until the inevitable creeps up on him and he announces, "I'm…I'm gonna…" And he doesn't finish the sentence because talking is just too much while he's unloading in his girlfriend's warm, wet mouth.

Brittany manages to position Sam's dick so that the blasts of his hot cum shoot directly at the back of her throat. It's not actually as soothing as she imagined. It actually stings a little, she's surprised to discover. But it's warm and creamy and delicious and she loves it, sting or no sting.

Of course, her throat is still sore. With Sam still naked and sprawled out on the bed, eyes closed, catching his breath, she asks, "You wanna go downstairs for some ice cream?"

It takes a minute for Brittany's non sequitur to penetrate Sam's orgasm-addled brain. But when he figures out what she just asked, it strikes him as a terrific idea. He's suddenly super hungry for some reason.

XOXOXO

"Is that guy a zombie?"

"No, babe, that's Daryl." They're watching The Walking Dead, Brittany for the first time.

"A zombie can't be named Daryl?"

"I guess one could, but…Daryl is one of the main guys. One of the main survivors." Brittany still looks confused so he adds, "Regular humans."

He reaches behind Brittany for a blanket that's draped over the back of the couch. He doesn't normally get chilly easily, but he is still naked, since Brittany threw his pants out the front door, and he would have felt silly wearing a t-shirt and nothing else. Brittany's still naked too, and she cuddles under the blanket with him. She's kinda stealing it from him, in fact, but she's plenty warm all pressed up against him, so he doesn't complain.

"What about that Asian guy? Is he a zombie?"

"Glenn? He's my favorite! Cause, like, he used to be a pizza delivery guy, and you'd think that would be a job that wouldn't give you a lot of amazing powers, but you'd be wrong because he knows every single shortcut in the city and he's saved everyone's lives like a billion times because of it. And I used to be a pizza delivery guy, so if there's ever a zombie apocalypse in real life, now you know to stick with me."

"Of course I'd stick with you, babe," Brittany says, snuggling against his shoulder. "But, so…is he a zombie or not?"

"He's not." Sam kisses the top of her head. "Oh! There! That guy is a zombie!" He points at the walker who just appeared out of nowhere. To the screen he adds, "Get him, Glenn!"

Poor Sammy, he doesn't even understand his own favorite show. That guy he just said is a zombie is actually one of the guys they call walkers on this show. Even Brittany knows that and she just started watching. She doesn't actually know why they call them that, since everyone walks on this show; there isn't a single robot anywhere, so Artie probably wouldn't like it. She'd ask Sam why they're called that, but he clearly knows even less about what's going on than she does, so she just pats his shoulder.

Brittany's quiet for a while, just cuddling with him under the blanket, which makes it easier to pay attention to the show. Until Sam feels her holding his dick, which makes it suddenly kinda difficult to pay attention to the show. She doesn't seem to be trying to start anything, but just the fact that her hand is on it is pretty fucking distracting. He tries to sound casual as he asks, "What are you doing down there, Britt?"

"Down where? Oh, you mean with Admiral Rodney? I was just seeing if he thinks this show is boring. It turns out he does."

Okay, so, zero parts of that made any sense.

"What?" Sam asks. He pauses the show because he just has a feeling it might be a while till he figures this out.

"I said he does."

"Who does?"

"Admiral Rodney," she says, patting his dick.

"You, uh…you named my dick Admiral Rodney?"

"No, I didn't name him that. It's just his name. You didn't even know your own penis's name?"

"Uh…no."

"Maybe because you can't get your ear right up next to his mouth like I can. He talks kinda quiet."

"Yeah, that must be it."

"You should probably start stretching more so you can be flexible enough to talk to him yourself. But I can tell you what he's saying, if you want."

"He's talking now?"

"I don't know, baby. I'm way up here," Brittany explains patiently. "You want me to ask him?"

"Sure."

Brittany puts her head in Sam's lap and says something to Admiral Rodney. It's pretty much just a whisper, so Sam can't hear what she's saying, although he can feel her breath against his dick. She looks up and relays the message: "He says no offense but your show is super boring, and yes offense but Brittany already told you I think it's boring so why are you bothering me again, asking me what I already told you?"

Sam knows he's not always the quickest at taking a hint, but he is now 100 percent certain that they are not going to watch any more Walking Dead this weekend. And that's totally fine with him. He turns the TV off and flings the remote onto an empty chair. "So, it's a bother having Brittany talk to you, Rod?" Sam asks.

"That's Admiral Rodney to you, civilian!" Admiral Rodney snaps. Well, it's Brittany, obviously, but she's made her voice really deep and sort of…British, maybe? Also she's moving Admiral Rodney around as "he" talks. "And no, it's no bother at all talking to Brittany. Brittany is loverly."

"Yeah," Sam agrees. "I think Brittany is lovely too."

"I'm much more interested in Brittany than in that stupid, boring, non-robot TV show."

"I did notice that you're starting to, uh…salute for Britt," Sam says.

"It's very admirable of my Roddy, don't you think?" Brittany says.

"So you get to call him Roddy but I have to use his full rank and serial number and everything?"

"What can I say? He likes me." And then, illustrate that the admiration is mutual, she gives Admiral Rodney a little kiss.

"I think he also likes…uh, does your pussy have a name too?"

"Of course."

Sam waits, but Brittany doesn't elaborate. He has to ask, "What is it?"

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" Brittany twists around so she's suddenly lying back on the couch with one leg up on the back rest and the other foot on the floor with the blanket.

"Okay," Sam says nervously. He loves getting up close and personal with Brittany's pussy, but he's not quite sure how this is supposed to work. He leans down and hovers over her crotch and says, "Hey, baby. What's your name?"

And he waits. He was hoping that Brittany would say a name, but she's not doing that.

So he tries again. This time he strokes her lips first, making Brittany gasp just a little, and plants a little kiss. "Hi, sweetheart. My name is Sam. I mean, maybe you already know that; we've already met many times. But, uh, I didn't catch your name all those times." He waits, looking up expectantly at Brittany.

"You gotta put your ear right up to her mouth, baby," Brittany advises, spreading her legs wider.

"Okay." If someone had asked Sam yesterday what part of his body he thought he was least likely to touch his girlfriend's pussy with, ear might very well have been his answer. But here he is, huddled over her crotch, head between her legs, with one ear actually in between her folds, getting damp with her juices.

He still doesn't hear anything, though, except for Brittany's blood flowing (or maybe his own), and Brittany moaning softly. He wonders if she has an ear kink or if she'd just moan at any part of him touching her there. Probably the latter, he thinks. But just in case, he sits up and asks, "You wanna taste yourself on my ear?"

"Totally!" Brittany does not, in fact, have an ear kink, but she does like to taste herself on Sam.

Sam scoots up so he can present his ear, and she licks at it. It doesn't taste that much like her pussy, but she does like that Sam has to lie on top of her for her to reach it. She takes a final nip at his earlobe and then whispers, "So did she tell you her name?"

Sam guesses, "Brittany Junior?"

"Oh, Sam," Brittany sighs. She wriggles a little under him and grabs his ass to shift him so Admiral Rodney is pressing against her right where she likes him. "If you can't understand her accent, just say so."

"I can't understand her accent."

"Her name is Baronne Henriette de Snoy."

Sam is pretty sure he's not going to be able to remember that. Also he doesn't care a lot at the moment, because Brittany's groping his ass, and she's moving around under him, and his "admiral" is totally at attention now and it's right up next to her "baroness" or whatever. "So, royalty, huh?" Sam asks, slowly grinding against her.

Brittany sucks in a quick breath. "Uh-huh."

"I should have known." Sam keeps grinding rhythmically. "So, does she feel like…fraternizing? I mean, my guy's not royalty, but he is an officer, apparently."

"If fraternize means fuck, then she totally feels like doing that."

Brittany opens her legs wider and gasps lightly at the intrusion as Sam pushes in. She's always kind of shocked by how good it feels to have his cock stuffed up inside her. "Fuck," she mutters, "that's so good."

Sam usually loves to hear Brittany's dirty talk during sex. But he's suddenly afraid she might keep going with the admiral/baroness stuff, and he's not sure he wants to hear that while he's fucking her. So he does the only logical thing he can to prevent that and kisses her deeply, thrusting into her mouth with his tongue as he thrusts into her cunt with his cock.

Brittany loves it. It's like being double-penetrated almost.

And it makes it harder to vocalize, which…that's always kind of an outlet for her, like something that helps relieve some of the excess pleasure. Not having that outlet just brings her to a boiling point even quicker.

Very, very soon, she's clawing at Sam's back and sucking on his tongue, groaning deep in her throat as an orgasm rips through her.

Sam manages to keep fucking her through it—even though she nearly swallows his tongue, even though her fingernails in his back send a sharp pain through him (which he actually likes quite a lot), even though her constricting walls squeeze his dick so fucking tight—because he's pretty sure he can make her come again if he keeps going.

And anyway he wants to keep going. Her pussy is so tight and wet and amazing that even though he knows how satisfying it will be to come in it again, he's not ready to be done fucking her yet.

Of course he can't fuck her quite as hard as he'd like while she's clamping down so tight on his cock. But as soon as he feels her start to relax around him, he maneuvers himself up onto his knees and lifts her ankles onto his shoulders. As he picks up speed and force, he gradually leans forward, pushing her legs back and wider apart.

Brittany's pretty flexible—not to mention relaxed and pliable—so she doesn't feel any discomfort from the way Sam is positioning her. Not until she's basically folded in half with her legs spread as wide as the back of the couch will allow, anyway, when she does feel a slight burn in her stretched muscles. But by then she couldn't care less; all she cares about is that Sam is nailing her so hard right now, and she's totally pinned so she can't move, and his tongue is still ravishing her mouth so she can't even scream, and all she can do is lie there and take it, which is all she wants to do because it's so fucking perfect.

Sam is able to keep going longer than he normally would, thanks to the multiple orgasms he's already had in the span of a few hours. He's able to keep going until Brittany climaxes again. She digs her fingernails into his arms this time—hard enough that he thinks she's drawn blood—and he screams, and as soon as he screams, she screams too, which is so, so hot, and he falls apart with her—in her—shooting his load deep inside her clenching channel.

Spent and exhausted, he collapses on top of her. He realizes she must be really uncomfortable with her legs splayed out unnaturally and his weight on top of her, so he tries to move off of her.

She stops him though. "Wait a little," she says carefully, as if speaking requires a lot of effort.

"Okay," he says, happy to stay still. But then he asks, "Why?"

"If you move, your cum will leak out. And I like it inside my pussy so much."

"Oh. Okay." He lazily kisses the side of her neck.

After a little while, though—and he's not sure how long it is; he may have dozed off a little—she taps his shoulder and says, "I guess we have to move. I'm getting a cramp."

So Sam hops up off the couch. "Can I massage it for you?"

"No, it's fine, just help me stand."

He extends his hand and pulls her up. Standing there naked, he feels the cold air on his skin, and he realizes it feels so cold because he's all sweaty. Brittany is too, he can see. "I think I could use a shower," he says. "If you want one too I'll let you go first."

Brittany makes a pouty face at him. "You don't want to shower with me?"

"I love showering with you, babe. But we already…I mean, we just…"

"Well, I don't want to shower by myself. I'm not going to wash all your cum out if you're not going to fill me up with more."

Sam groans. "Okay. Maybe I'll just take a shower then." After all, if Brittany doesn't care if she's a little sweaty, why should he?

And Brittany doesn't care if she's a little sweaty. But, sitting on her bed hearing the water running in the bathroom, she does care that her Sammy is actually showering without her. So she goes in and joins him.

And, it takes a little work on her part, but she manages to exit the shower with a brand new, fresh load of cum replacing the one that got washed away.