Hi guys. It's been a while.
I offer you an interlude of several delicious pages of porn as my apology.
This interlude will break the story in two parts. Part II is coming soon; the next chapter is being beta'ed as I write.
INTERLUDE
Brittany inhales. The smell of the cake in the oven is just delicious.
There were so many up sides to having a girlfriend who bakes, Brittany thinks with a smile. She should have done it before.
She stirs the melted chocolate slowly.
Without warning, Santana's front meets her back, warm and soft. Santana rests her hands on Brittany's waist, leaning in and saying in her ear, "You know what I was thinking", in a low and sultry tone.
Santana sounds downright dirty. Brittany bites her lower lip, heart racing in anticipation.
"No idea," she answers, never stopping her circular motion. Santana's hot breath on her neck – her lips almost touching but not quite – causes her to shiver.
"I was thinking of you fucking me with a strap on." Santana dips her index finger in the pan, just enough to gather some thick, dark chocolate and lick it, her tongue swirling around her finger. "While I'm blindfolded."
Brittany closes her eyes as an immediate wave of desire washes over her. She should have known this conversation would lead to nothing good.
Santana's hand rests over hers, making sure she never stops stirring. Brittany leans into Santana; she doesn't have to look to know Santana is smiling.
"You, sweaty, on top of me," Santana continues, "pounding into me, deep inside of me." She wraps an arm around Brittany's waist.
Brittany's mouth feels suddenly dry – why does her mouth feel dry – and she licks her own lips.
"Or maybe you fucking me from behind," Santana says, her hand palming Brittany's stomach and going lower, "pulling my hair, while I'm on all fours for you. Only for you."
The tips of her fingers sneak under the waistband of Brittany's shorts.
Brittany is throbbing already, her legs opening to Santana.
"You can choose how you want me. Where you want me," Santana says, turning off the stove. "What you want to do with me."
Santana kisses Brittany's neck open mouthed and hot, her tongue slow against Brittany's skin. She lets go of the spoon and forgets about the chocolate, slipping her hand under Brittany's shirt, and travelling upwards, pressing against Brittany's muscles until she reaches Brittany's breasts.
Brittany takes the opportunity to undo her own shorts, taking Santana's hand and guiding it further down. "Don't you dare consider stopping now," she says with authority, letting out a breathy sigh when Santana smiles against her neck and bites, teeth sinking where Brittany's neck meets her shoulder.
She runs two fingers on Brittany's folds, back and forth, feeling the wetness; Brittany opens her legs further, ass grinding hard against Santana.
"I take it you like my idea," Santana says before she presses her fingers to Brittany's center.
Brittany whines, mouth half open in pleasure and eyes closed; she nods.
Santana slides her hand out of Brittany's shorts and grabs Brittany's hips, making them walk a few steps to the side. "Look at me," she says, turning Brittany around and pushing her against the counter.
She slides her hand inside again, too urgent to bother taking off anyone's clothing, and this time she presses harder, circles firmer, looking into Brittany's eyes.
"You should have ideas more often," Brittany pants, grabbing a fistful of clothing to bring Santana closer against her, "but right now I want you inside."
Santana kisses her, with bite. "Your wish is my command," she says, a little breathless, before she enters Brittany nice and slow.
Brittany moans; she needs more, and deeper, and faster. She pushes her shorts down, feeling them slide to her feet and – it's perfect – Santana can twist her hand and change the angle, and Brittany bucks her hips when she hits the right spot roughly, over and over and over again.
"Open your eyes," Santana commands after a particularly hard thrust, "and look at me."
Brittany bites her lip, her arms around Santana's neck for support, and when their eyes meet again Santana uses her thumb to rub Brittany's clit every time she enters. Brittany feels breathless, looking at Santana as jolts of desire wash over her body – she feels so close to Santana, so aroused by the look on her face, like she wants to devour Brittany.
"Look at me when you come," Santana repeats; Brittany is clenching around her fingers, trembling already, and she doesn't need to tell Santana because Santana already knows—she manages to thrust even faster, harder and it's too much.
She stops breathing for a moment, eyes locked to Santana's, as her orgasm washes over her in a strong wave – hot, intense, sudden – and she clings to Santana for support. Her knees give, too weak to support her body.
Santana's still inside of her, thumb rolling against her clit; the aftershocks begin and Brittany is still throbbing. She whines and frowns, giving it her best not to close her eyes, to continue to stare at Santana for as long as possible while she is in her arms.
"You're beautiful," Santana says, taking her fingers out slowly, running them on Brittany's folds, teasing at Brittany's entrance – Brittany's so sensitive she can feel every touch so enhanced it almost hurts.
She holds Santana's hand still. "Just give me a moment, will you," she says, laughing a bit and hiding her face in Santana's neck.
Santana kisses the side of her head and withdraws her hand. "Of course. We still have to bake a cake."
"This one is so big," Brittany says, holding the package in her hands.
Santana places the dildo back on the counter and turns to Brittany. "You think I can't take," she says, looking at the package before looking straight to Brittany, "seven inches of you?"
Brittany clears her throat, her eyes widening. "Santana," she whispers, blushing furiously.
Santana smiles, a little too amused for Brittany's liking. She takes the package and reads its characteristics. "Do you like it?" she asks, turning it around in her hands for a better look, "Can you imagine yourself fucking me with it?"
Brittany has no doubt. "Yes."
Santana takes her time to lick her lips, well aware of how Brittany's breath catches. "Then it's settled," she says, walking over to the other wall. "Now we just need to decide which flavor you'll like the most when you lick the massage oil off my body."
Brittany looks at Santana, standing in front of her with a red robe, wrapped loosely around her waist. Her hair is down, soft curves falling on her shoulder; Brittany can see the swell of her breasts, the valley between.
She touches Santana's collarbone with her fingertips. "Are you sure about this?" she asks.
Santana nods, taking Brittany's hand and guiding it to her breasts. Brittany's fingertips push the fabric aside.
Brittany doesn't need any other encouragement; she places a hand on the back of Santana's neck and pulls her in for a kiss. Santana opens her lips promptly, letting Brittany's tongue take over – their tongues rubbing together – as Brittany explores her mouth.
Brittany unties Santana's robe and sneaks her hands inside, bringing Santana's naked body against hers. She sucks Santana's tongue, palming her back under the fabric.
Santana sighs and arches her back, her arms wrapping around Brittany's neck.
The robe falls on the ground.
Brittany leads them to the bed, settling on top of Santana. She locks their eyes, examining Santana's face and looking for insecurities. Santana nods, encouraging, and Brittany reaches for the black scarf and wraps it around Santana's head, covering her eyes.
Santana's smile is just naughty.
"Will you be a good girl and do as I say?" Brittany tries, and Santana nods. "That's my girl."
She lies by Santana's side and starts by letting her fingers wonder. She makes sure her touch is light as a feather, barely enough to be felt, as she traces Santana's collarbone, circles her breasts and runs a long line between them until she reaches Santana's belly button.
She looks at Santana's skin and she can see her shivering, her breasts rising and falling quickly with anticipation.
She starts her way up, touching Santana's stomach, under her breasts, before she touches the nipples, feeling them growing hard under her fingertips.
"Hands on the headboard," she commands quietly. Santana complies.
She reaches for the bowl on the side of the bed and takes an ice cube. Santana hisses when it meets her skin, sliding down her breasts until her lower belly before coming up again. Brittany takes her time, applying more pressure when she reaches Santana's breasts and circles her nipple, and then the other.
When the cube touches Santana's peak Santana breathes loudly through her nose, her grasp on the headboard tightening as Brittany alternates between nipples, making sure they're both sensitive.
"I bet you can't wait for it," Brittany whispers on her ear, "to have me buried inside of you."
Santana's ankles sink on the bed as she tries not to move her hips.
"All in due time," Brittany tells her. She pinches Santana's nipples, earning her first moan – drawn out and deep. "First, we must make sure you're ready."
She bites the spot beneath Santana's ear, licking it afterwards. "Use one hand to touch yourself."
Santana nods, letting her hand roam her own body, still wet from the melted ice, before reaching her final destination.
"Go slow. No need to rush," Brittany says, biting her own lip as she watches Santana stroke her own clit, back and forth, letting out small whimpers every time. "Spread your legs a little more."
Santana does so, flexing her knees and exposing herself.
"Let me see your hand," Brittany asks, taking Santana's palm into her own. Santana's fingers are soaked, and Brittany takes them in her mouth. She sucks on Santana's fingers, licks them, the tip of her tongue swirling around their tips, teasingly.
Santana doesn't even breathe until Brittany is finished.
"Hands on the headboard," Brittany says, waiting for Santana to obey before taking another cube. She takes it to Santana's clit; Santana curses right away, hips bucking in the air.
Brittany runs the cube on Santana's folds, savoring the sounds Santana makes. She strokes Santana's clit with it, firm and fast, until Santana is panting and on the verge.
She stops suddenly. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. You're not allowed to orgasm until I say, are we clear?"
Santana nods eagerly.
Brittany leaves the bed and takes the strap on. "On all fours," she says, smiling when Santana does exactly as told.
What a glorious ass, Brittany thinks as she steps into the harness and adjusts the bands. "Look at you, all nice and ready," she says. She pulls Santana back, until she's on the edge of the bed.
"Get me wet," Brittany orders, taking the cock and lining it over Santana's folds.
Santana lets out a painful moan, moving her hips so the extension of the cock rubs against her folds; Brittany grabs her ass and intensifies the pace.
"Not enough, Britt—" she tries to say, her hands fisting the sheets. "Please—"
"Tell me what you want." Brittany says, moving her own hips – she's touching Santana's clit again, on purpose, wanting to hear Santana beg. "Nicely."
"I want you to fuck me senseless," Santana pants between moans. "Please. I want you to fuck me so hard I can't walk."
Brittany positions the cock at Santana's entrance and thrusts at once, without warning, grabbing Santana's hair and pulling it back.
"I wonder how I should do it," she says to Santana's ear, not moving the cock inside of her. "Gentle or hard. Slow or fast."
Santana arches her body, groaning.
Brittany takes the cock out completely before slamming into Santana again, rough and strong. "Does anybody else make you feel this good, Santana?" Brittany asks, hips slapping against Santana. "Can anybody fuck you like this? As good as I can?"
She lets go of Santana's hair to pull Santana against her, fucking her relentlessly; she soon feels the sweat forming on her back, running down her spine, but she doesn't slow down.
Santana collapses on the bed, and Brittany takes advantage to place her hands on the bed, by Santana's sides, and pick up the pace, her own weight against Santana every time she thrusts.
She feels Santana's legs tensing, her toes curling against Brittany.
"Did I tell you to come? I don't think so," she tells Santana and stops, still inside of her.
She takes the cock out.
"I'm sorry, Britt, please—" Santana whines and throws her hips back, "Please, baby, please—"
"Turn around."
Santana obeys, lying on her back. Brittany settles between her legs and pushes the cock inside slowly, inch by inch. "Are you going to do as I say this time?"
"Yes," Santana hisses, locking her legs around Brittany's waist. "I promise."
Brittany enters her again, attaching her mouth to Santana's breasts. Santana raises her hips as Brittany's pushes down, her hands in Brittany's hair.
Brittany takes a bite, increasing the speed of her thrusts. Santana's nails are clinging to her back; all she hears is Santana's heavy breathing and her moans every time Brittany hits thatparticular spot.
She takes off the scarf to look into Santana's eyes as she touches her clit roughly. "Touch your breasts," she says.
Santana cups her own breasts and pinches her nipples, eyes closing and mouth parting.
"Do you want to come, Santana?" Brittany slams into her, "Do you want to come around my cock?"
Santana nods, mumbling a yes. Brittany rubs her clit and picks up the pace, entering Santana as hard as she can – her lower back is aching already, her legs are sore – until Santana is pulling her for a kiss, thighs clenching, her entire body trembling against Brittany's.
Brittany slow her thrusts, letting Santana ride it out. "Good girl," she says, kissing Santana's cheek. "That's more like it."
Santana whines when Brittany slides out, panting.
She gets rid of the harness and climbs on the bed, pulling Santana with her. Santana places her head on Brittany's shoulder; for a moment they just breathe together.
"Thank you," Santana finally says, kissing Brittany's shoulder.
Brittany smiles. "My pleasure."
Santana seems to realize something. "You know what would be your pleasure? You sitting on my face."
"God."
Santana puts a pillow under her head so that she's the perfect height. She takes a long, flat lick; Brittany gasps and clings to the headboard.
She licks again – deeper, slower – and again, mumbling against Brittany. "I love how you taste."
Brittany throbs, groaning something indistinguishable in response. Santana smiles against her, her tongue teasing at Brittany's entrance with short strokes.
She's lucky she's being held firmly by Santana's hands – not moving her hips is almost impossible when Santana is literally drinking her as much as possible.
She was already soaked after fucking Santana, after Santana's surrender; she rolls her eyes to the back of her head when Santana's lips find her clit and she sucks, hard.
"Baby, I'm not going to last like this," she tries to say, biting her lower lip so hard she almost breaks skin
"Then come on my mouth," Santana answers, tongue flat against Brittany's clit, tongue around Brittany's clit, mouth sucking Brittany's clit.
She enters three fingers at once, curling them inside Brittany, stretching her easily, filling her, her mouth still on Brittany's center—
It barely takes ten minutes for Brittany to tense up, her forehead pressed against the wall as she moans Santana's name, tumbling over the edge at once, unexpected, and then she collapses by Santana's side.
She groans when she realizes Santana is licking her fingers clean and smiling.
"I told you," Santana says with a smirk. "You taste delicious."