Title: After All This Time
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 10.9k
Summary: See, you've never really been one for bright ideas. Sure, you're phenomenal at revenge plans and being a total bitch, but when it comes to genuinely decent ideas, you're lacking to say the least. But this one? This one could actually work.
Notes:
/
Watching scenes is very different to waiting to star in one, as it turns out.
You used to act a little in high school, even if you usually swayed in the background, hidden away, but you still liked being on stage, so this shouldn't feel too different as it's just a performance, but it does.
You feel like you're vibrating you're so nervous, and you're just waiting around the corner, out of shot, listening for the sound of Artie's voice and the clapperboard he's obsessed with. It was different when you were sat on that chair, watching everyone else do their thing and you've been so caught up in not thinking about doing those things with Brittany that you didn't think about what everyone's going to be thinking about you.
You're not ashamed that you were born the way you were, addition and all, but it's not normal and everyone said they're cool with it (even though you didn't really give them an option; their job was on the line) but now you're panicking.
Or maybe you're panicking that Brittany has technically never seen your dick, and that's far more terrifying than anyone else seeing it or the judgement that could come.
Anyway, you recite your lines in your head, knowing there's only a couple as porno talk is cheesy and awkward and most people skip it anyway when watching them, but it gives you a temporary distraction. No-one watches for the storyline, just the action and you can't do much worse than Sugar and Sam. At one point, Sam had to literally shove his length in her mouth to stop her from talking because she was going off tangent and was about to whip out the Aspergers card.
That was not sexy.
However, it went smoothly after that - although Kurt's scene with Spencer was tragic but you got there in the end - but you're hoping that's not what's going to happen with Brittany.
You feel like your chats about it not being weird and what you want has made you feel a little more comfortable because you can use your friendship as an advantage with her and have communicated beforehand. You can pull out all the pieces of information you've gained over years of being close with her, make the pressure a little less and talk with your eyes, checking if you're okay with doing whatever you're going to and tread carefully.
You haven't planned it. Like you said, you're just going to go with the flow.
Artie calls out sixty seconds to the little red light comes on, and you jump up and down in your spot, like an athlete readying for a race and shake your limbs out. You're wearing a black uniform – a buttoned down shirt, small shorts and a matching cap – and you feel hot in it. You bunched the shirt into a crop top, tying the fabric in front and rubbed up on yourself so you're already half-hard, knowing that starting a few steps ahead will be a benefit here.
You don't want to be worrying about getting it up whilst figuring out Brittany's body. There's already too much pressure on that.
The sound of the clapperboard breaks you from your thoughts, and you see the lights turn down as the scene begins, and you can't see Brittany, but you can hear her walking in from the front, dusting down the tables and pretending to clear up after a busy night. Artie had written that you were a delivery driver, and she's the last person in the store to take it, but you need to wait for her line before you step out and it's only getting harder the longer you wait.
You jig in your spot, listening to Brittany sigh loudly and you remember what she looked like earlier, only half ready, so you're bleeding anticipation to see what she looks like fully done up. Your breath was taken away back then and as nervous as you are, you can feel the electricity sizzling and twisting into excitement in your stomach as your ears take in the first few lines of the blonde on set.
"Oh, that sounds like a delivery," Brittany announces, and you suck your lips into your mouth, desperately wishing you could be stood in front of her to calm her down as the sound of a bell rings overhead. You can hear the way her voice is wavering, but you know you've got less than twenty seconds before you're supposed to come out and click your neck from left to right, inhaling and exhaling in a slow tempo to regulate your heartbeat. You've got to calm yourself down first.
It doesn't work, though, and before you know it, you hear your cue.
"Hello? Is anyone there?"
You spy the box down to your right, quickly scooping it up as that's your only prop for this scene, and steel yourself before stepping out into the light. You do so, and hear an audible gasp from Brittany as she sees you, but the lights are so bright you wince a little, knowing the only way you can get through this is by not dribbling over Brittany – who you can only just make out due to the sudden change of brightness, but you're already getting hotter as you note the very small black skirt wrapped around her hips, showing off her wonderfully long legs – and slip into acting mode.
"I have a big package for you," you announce, and resist the urge to laugh out loud. This is so much cheesier and lamer when you're actually fucking saying it – didn't seem so lame on paper – and if for some reason you screw up and have to do it all over again, you might leave out the chat.
"I can see that," Brittany replies, and your vision snaps to her the first time, your fingers digging into the box in your arms when you register the rest of her outfit. She's wearing a white shirt, tied up at the waist, just like yours, and again, she's unbuttoned like you are but there's a red lacy bra beneath poking out and your mouth dries at the sight.
Holy fucking shit.
She's the hottest thing you've ever seen.
She steps towards you, and you shift your focus to her eyes, seeing her lowering her head, silently asking if you're okay. You aren't, but you're shooting, everyone is watching – even though they're hidden in the darkness – and you can't pull her to the side for a best friend pep talk so you just nod very slightly in response or reveal why you aren't. The corner of her lip tugs up, a small smile gracing her face and her eyes sparkle, and you know she's trying to make you more at ease, but it's just reminding you of what you're about to do.
"Where would you like me to put it?" You manage to get out, eyes flitting down to the box in your hand, and you feel a surge of confidence when you bend over, and she watches your ass the entire time. It's not scripted, but Artie did give you creative direction, so you guess that's just one of Brittany's ideas. At least she likes the way you look and screw it, you flirt with her all the time and you're always comfortable around her, and she's nervous too – you can tell by the way she's biting her lip – and so you must take lead here.
This was your whole idea, after all, and you're not one to back out of a challenge.
Except she catches you off guard, bringing her hand up to run down the centre of your chest when you straighten up, bumping your bra and causing a trail of goosebumps. She inhales slowly, sighing into you with intent as her eyes drag from her fingers on your skin up to your eyes. She's seducing you, even though she really doesn't need to but you're here for it.
"You can put it... anywhere," she replies lowly, throwing in a smirk and you faulter, remembering that isn't in the script but yup, that's going to do it.
But you've got to follow the partial script. Your creative direction isn't required just yet even if Brittany's going with it, and you pull a piece of paper out from your back pocket, reaching for the pen hooked into your shirt over her hand, and click the end of it, giving it over as if she's going to sign it. She does, the movement going in slow motion as she pulls her hand away from you, grasping the pen but letting her fingertips brush over the back of yours, sending electricity down your spine and signs her actual name, and you push down the urge to smile because she's so freaking adorable.
She's a complete paradox. Even in the middle of shooting a freaking porn scene, she's gone from insanely hot to annoyingly adorable and it's making your heart go off beat inside your chest. You don't fucking understand it, but that's not what you should be thinking about. You should be thinking about your next move, because now is the time for your freedom as an actress and you've got to lead this. She's already using moves you weren't expecting, and you told her you walked the walk, and this is so not proof that you can do so.
You're acting like a teenage virgin, quaking in their own boots, being seduced by freaking rocket of a woman.
So, you feign the confidence you really don't feel, and take a long stride towards her, invading her personal bubble again but with the upper hand this time. Her hands shoot out, grasping at your bicep and yours go to her waist, squeezing firmly, but your thumb drifts north – it's just natural to want to feel her skin – and she stutters out a breath, eyes fluttering, and you know you're returning the favour; you're doing things to her that she just did to you.
You think you could explode with the way she's looking at you.
"Do you have any… other packages for me?" Brittany purrs, her eyes dropping down and fuck, this is really happening.
You're about to have sex with your best friend.
With freaking Brittany.
You didn't even know this would be the moment where you initiate it, but it's just flowed here naturally and that's what you were planning but it still makes you pause. You're far too distracted with the way she's glancing down at your lips, much like she did the other night but it's different now, because you actually can kiss her and you're going to. You're not the only one to get to that thought though, evident with the way Brittany exhales slowly through a small 'o' in her lip, like she's bracing herself and well, you're right there with her.
Out of everything that you've been going over in your head, kissing her wasn't really one of them. It wasn't that prevalent, the fear of fucking her being way more of a priority but you really should've put more thought into this part.
Kissing has never meant much to you, but you never have sex with someone and kiss them because it's more of a mechanical pleasure than anything else, your other brain taking over and arousal pulsing through you, and kissing doesn't quell your burning loins. It's a good addition, sure, but most people don't know how to kiss you, so it's never been that much of a big deal. Even when you slept with Quinn, you think you kissed once or twice, and so now you're hesitant, because it's not just kissing someone and then having sex… It's kissing Brittany and then having sex.
Maybe if you'd done it the other night, you wouldn't be so damn worked up. You wouldn't be frozen in place, probably for too long and someone's going to yell cut in a minute, telling you to redo it all over again because you can't bring your focus to the moment. You're far too caught up in your head, but you need to keep convincing yourself it's nothing. You have to replay that thought because it's just kissing.
It's nothing you haven't done before. The first time you properly kissed someone was when you were fifteen – embarrassingly old but shut up – but you feel like a connoisseur of it now. You know how to work someone up with just your lips, and you're certain Brittany does, too. There's just something about her that screams she's a phenomenal kisser and there's a part of you – the teenage version – that's been desperately wanting to find out what it's like.
So it's hard to calm down, when you're about to get something you've yearned over for years. It feels like a big fucking deal.
But no, you can't slip into that mindset because it isn't a big deal. This is just filming a porn scene with your best friend, and that's it. So, you need to quit this overthinking bullshit and just do it. Just dive headfirst into the dark pool of fears and push through. You're Santana Lopez, and you won't let something as little scare you away, tail tucked between your legs.
Without further thought, and one quick inhale, you lean in.
You don't go the whole way, unsure why because you told yourself you'd lead this, but there's a hesitation in your chest, a streak of fear flashing in your mind and it's stopping you from going the whole way. There's a tiny voice screeching in your skull for you not to hold this stare, because you're closer than you've ever been to her, your lips barely a hairsbreadth apart, but you just can't bring yourself to do it.
You need to know she's down with this, too.
Brittany sees it though, like she always does, her eyes sparkling briefly with an understanding you can never quite grasp, and her hands slide up from your biceps to your neck, and then they are in your hair, nails scratching comfortingly against your scalp and she's closing the gap between you, using the grip on your hair to press her lips gently against yours.
And it's fucking electric.
It feels like your soul leaves your body as she exhales through her nose after a split second, pushing harder into you like she's the one that's finally getting everything she ever wanted, and your hands slide around her hips, pressing into the low of her back to bring her closer to you. She smiles into your mouth at the movement, her body moulding against yours like it's always been there and it's like nothing you've ever experienced before.
You have a long list of people that you've made out with – you did it with a mannequin once after too many tequilas – but this is like a freaking explosion. This is fireworks. This is mind-blowing. This is wiping every other kiss you've ever had off the table, and when her tongue flicks against your lips, requesting silent entrance, you all about die. Who are you to resist? How could you possibly not want to feel her stroke her tongue into your mouth, if this is the effect, she has on you with just lips against lips?
You can't. It's what you want – what you fucking need – and you tilt your head, opening up slightly and just as expected, she steals the breath you try to take as her tongue slides into your mouth and traces along the edge of your teeth, pulling a deep whimper from inside your chest.
What the fuck is she doing to you?
Her body is warm against yours, the skin of her abs touching yours and your entire body flares when she adjusts, taking a short breath before dipping her tongue into your mouth properly this time, letting it flick against yours. Your entire body shudders, every single nerve in your being sparking beneath your skin, and you forget about everything else around you. In this moment, nothing else exists. It's just you two, and like you promised, you let it flow, let your body go with the motion as kick yourself into action, taking one hand and stroking it up her ribs, scratching lightly to get a little revenge.
You have got to make her feel the way she's making you feel.
Seems like it has the right effect, because a moan floods through your ears and she pulls back from the kiss, allowing you to see the way her face contorts with need, and you feel it too. There's a piping hot feeling growing in your shorts, bigger by the second and you know you want to give her what she wants. You just can't wait any longer, and you see her silently question you with one look, dropping her hands out your hair and returning to your chest once more, but with both this time.
Brittany traces a path between your bodies, putting only an inch between you and boldly, she grabs at you over the front of your shorts with one hand. Not expecting her to move so quickly, your hips jerk forward sloppily, heat scorching over your skin and shit, you've never been this turned on before, your face showing it as you bite down roughly on your bottom lip to conceal the noise that threatens to spill out, revealing your obvious feelings.
You really didn't need to 'get ready' before you stepped into shot, you're already fully hard. Just from one kiss, one touch, and you should be embarrassed but you just feel too fucking good.
How the fuck are you going to last?
Brittany kisses you again, silencing your thoughts and teeth nip at your bottom lip, pulling back the flesh and releasing it with a slow pop as her other hand joins the other, fingers expertly flicking open the zip, blue eyes boring deeply into yours when she stops kissing you again. And you've never been in this situation with her before, but you can already tell there's going to be a battle for dominance and that's not something you're used to.
But you're really fucking okay with it. This is like an actual dream, and you can't even begin to think about what she's going to feel like around you.
Before you can think any more on that, Brittany puts some space between you and spares a final glance into her eyes, and you resist the urge to reach out, stroking her cheek to tell her yeah, you're okay with whatever the fuck she wants to do. You don't even know what it is, but you trust her wholeheartedly and you've been thinking how this could go down a billion ways. You've been planning inside your mind tricks you might use, or techniques that you know from other girls are a good thing, but you don't need to put them to work here.
She's the one with the reigns here, and you're going to let her do whatever the fuck she wants to do to you.
You're actually powerless to resist.
So, you blink slowly, avoiding a head nod – you are on film, after all – and what feels like she second time in a matter of minutes, you can't breathe because Brittany's flashing you a narrowed smirk, jaw clenching as she thinks about what she wants to do and then she's dropping to her knees. Her hands work magic on you, tugging your shorts down your legs in one swift movement and then your member is springing first, cool air piercing your boiling hot skin and your heart flatlines. You feel your damn brain go into force restart as arousal floods it, overwhelming every sensation and you glance down, finding blue eyes locked on to you, pleased with what they see.
And you've never been prouder of what you've got. She's looking at it like she can't wait another minute more to see what it feels like, what it can do to her and what she can do with it, and it makes the lust for her ten-fold. You just want to touch her, kiss her, fuck her. You want to undress her, and marvel at her body and memorise every notch in her spine and dip in her abs, but you don't have time to even consider the rest of what you want to do because she grabs at you, stroking languidly and skilfully and again, you glitch out.
Your eyes meet hers, and your hand instinctively reaches out to brush her hair back as she works you, which you're going to pretend is for the camera to get a better view at her action, but it's really for you. You know what she's about to do, and you gulp as she leans up to press kisses against your abs, tongue flicking out down the dip, dragging south before she returns back to her knees again and lowers her head.
"Fuck," escapes your mouth, and Brittany smirks as she's looking at you, holding your gaze through long lashes. She knows exactly what she's doing to you and you're so glad for going with the flow, because it just feels natural and like everything you could've ever dreamed of. It doesn't feel like you're in a room full of people, acting out some script a crippled pervert wrote out. It feels like you're doing this in a room just by yourselves, and it's helping because you're no longer nervous. You're fucking ecstatic.
But the feeling of excitement quickly vanishes when Brittany hums, purposefully gaining your focus back on her and she's leaning forward, hot breath hitting your length. A tongue pokes out to wet perfect lips, and then she's kissing the tip, and just the small motion makes your head fling back. You hear a small, devious giggle and you want to look back but then her fist is working you, and you swallow a loud, guttural moan as she takes you in, wrapping her mouth around your member and descends down the length.
It's wet, and warm, and she guides you further into her mouth, her tongue working wonders as she drags it up the underside of your shaft as she comes back and holy fuck, she's so fucking good at that already. The arousal triples when she repeats the movement but doesn't let you fall out of her mouth and she begins bobbing her head to a silent tempo, twisting her fist in time with the movements.
Jesus fucking Christ. You're not going to fucking last long.
Shit, shit, shit. You've gotta cool down here somehow.
Brittany has other plans though, keeping up a rhythm that's going to make you blow in under a minute and you hum loudly as you watch her do it. She has zero hesitations about your size, swallowing you wholly until your cock is pressing against the back of her throat, but she doesn't gag. You've heard about Brittany's skills in the bedroom, from herself even, but now you really understand why she was so God damn cocky the other night because that cockiness is just shining through.
She wasn't freaking lying.
"Fuck, Britt," you groan when the tip of your dick prods the back of her throat again, and you hear the slap as she pulls away, wiping the saliva off her lip as she grins up at you darkly, taking a moment for a breath. Goosebumps spread over your skin, and you want her to keep going and you want to shoot your load in her mouth, but this is the first five minutes of the scene and you have so many more plans for you two.
Even if you swear that nothing could be better than this. If she's this fucking good at sucking your dick, what the fuck is she going to be like when you're inside of her. What moves is she going to pull out that you've never experienced before? What the fuck are you going to do to match it? Because you're confident, but fuck, she's making you feel like you don't know a thing about sex with the way she's working you.
You've got to prove different, though. You've got to pull your head out your ass because you're burning with the urge to make her feel as good as she's making you feel. You're dripping with desire to taste her, too, and return the favour because this is already too much and it's been like, two freaking minutes. Stamina has never been a problem, and you'll be damned if it becomes one whilst you're being filmed.
With a stroke of a finger beneath her chin, you urge her vision to yours and convey it as much as possible, but the cocky smile turns into a smirk, her eyes smouldering and darkening with arousal and she ignores the request, wrapping her lips around you again, keeping your stare as she returns to doing what she does best.
You think you're about to spontaneously combust.
She swallows you, doing this thing with her tongue and throat muscles that makes it feel like she's massaging you and it's the perfect amount of suction and tempo, and the pressure is building higher and higher in your spine with every passing second. Everything is getting at thousand times hotter as she rotates her fist in time with her bobs, letting her tongue circle the head of your cock for a short second after taking you in completely and you're being rapidly pulled towards the edge of oblivion.
But you need to hit pause. You can't come just yet – it's literally the money shot – and so you bite down hard on your bottom lip, using the burning desire to taste her to power you to step back, your cock falling from her lips with an obscene wet pop. Her hand doesn't move though, and you're panting heavily, lips dry as you pull her to her feet, dazed as you stare into her eyes and a smirk of your own tugs at your lips.
She narrows her eyes, clearly curious with the sudden shift but grins after meeting your eyes, realising why you needed to do that. It makes it a little lighter, like you're with your best friend instead of a porno partner and you roll your eyes playfully before pulling her towards you and kissing her. Her lips suck at your bottom one, your bodies melting together in a gooey mess, and you probably let it linger for a bit too long, still totally overwhelmed with kissing her again but she's smiling against your mouth, and you can't find it in you to care.
You can't care about anything else and use the grip you have on her to steer her towards the counter beside you. It's the one with the cash register on it, and you hike her up on to the top, parting her legs and stepping between them to bring your lips back together. She shivers into you, arms winding around your neck, and you yank her by the back of the thighs so she's on the edge and push your hips up into her, pressing into the right spot on the outside of her underwear, relieving pressure on both sides.
And it's not what you should be thinking, but the weirdest part of this whole experience isn't the physical side. You're not scared like you thought you would be, unsure of every movement because it feels like your body already knows hers. It feels like you've done this in a different life, a different time, because you're moving in a way that has to be practised it's so smooth.
The thing that strikes you as strangest though, is the emotional side. As much as you want to do unspeakable things to her, you're alarmingly aware of her feelings and if she's okay. You're entirely concerned for her wellbeing and whether she's chill or freaking out, and sure, okay, you also want to make her feel the way you do right now, and pleasure her the way she's just pleasured you, but more so, you want to check in that she's enjoying this whole thing.
But Brittany's right there, already staring back at you when you spare a quick glance, making you feel a thousand times better with cheeks flushed a dark pink, perfect, white teeth biting down on an equally perfect lip and she's breathing heavily, showing you in her expression that she's okay. There's a softness in the deep blue of her eyes that shouldn't be there because of how hot and heavy the atmosphere is, but it's there because she's more than okay with this.
She freaking wants you.
Confidence surging through your body at the sight, you move your hands to her thighs, marvelling at the soft skin beneath your touch. She's softer than you could've imagined, and you begin feeling the heat as your fingers dip between her legs, pressing against the fabric of her underwear, up and in so she jerks up into you. You make a few circles, enjoying the mewling that comes out her lips and she whimpers when you stop, only to hook two fingers into her panties and draw them down her legs as her lips tremble against yours, not kissing you but almost.
"San," she hushes, her voice hoarse and so sexy that you've got to put extreme effort into remembering what you're going to do. Her hands shoot to your wrist, kicking you back into reality and she meets your eye as she guides you back down to her, fingertips touching her bare for the first time.
And she's so fucking wet.
You knew she told you she wouldn't have any problem getting there, but it still shocks you to your core that she's reacting to you like this and that she isn't embarrassed about it. No, because instead, she's fucking grinning at you, an invisible sign hanging above her head saying told you and fuck, that's so hot.
Almost too hot.
Brittany rolls her body into you, and you snap back into action, your body moving as you circle her entrance and then take two fingers, thrusting them into her deeply in one quick sweep. Her eyes bug open, her hand clutching desperately at your neck and your mouths crash back together as you curl your fingers, hitting that spot that makes her legs tighten around the back of yours immediately.
You know what you're doing.
The kiss breaks, and Brittany slumps into you as you pick up rhythm, her torso pressing against yours and within moments, you feel the beginning of an orgasm approaching as she tightens around you, but you're not going to let her come yet. You want to bring her to a climax with your tongue, to taste her and soak up every inch of her and as much as you're enjoying the pressure of her grabbing at you again clumsily, the need for the knowledge gets too much and you want this dominance. You want to take those reigns and lead this moment and show her what you're made of.
Just like she did a few minutes ago, you drop to your knees in one foul swoop, pulling out your fingers and pushing open her legs with your hands on her knees and she leans back, gasping and staring at you shocked as she braces herself, arms behind her. She's looking down at you, eyes brimming with anticipation, and you can feel the way her hips are twitching with the need for you to touch her again, her chest rising and falling rapidly as you lick your lips, asking for silent permission.
Which she gives you, nodding sharply and you look down at her for the first time, gulping loudly as you begin a path of kisses from her kneecap to her thigh, to the crease between the place she wants you most and her leg, heat radiating against your face. You can smell her, you can feel her, and you're so close that you honestly don't know how you're holding back. One of the things you enjoy most about being gay is going down on girls, and you pride yourself on your skills and like you said, you talk the talk, and you walk the walk.
You're not cocky for no reason.
Your tongue pokes out, wetting your lips and you glance back into her eyes, holding them and you flash her she same smirk she gave you when she tasted you for the first time. You dip your head, stroking confidently through her folds to taste her for the first time and fuck, you'll never forget this moment. She squirms, whimpers, and bites down impossibly hard on her bottom lip and you groan, sucking your tongue back into your mouth to savour her flavour before moving back again, pressing your mouth back to her and smirking against hot flesh as shudders again.
Confidently, you flick out at the top, wrapping your lips around her clit and suck with intent. She arches off the counter, hips shimmying almost completely off, but your hands shoot forward, grasping the back of her thighs and taking the weight of her legs on your shoulders. She makes noises that you have only ever dreamt of, but you keep lapping away, marvelling in the way her hand comes to your hair, nails scratching against your scalp as she moans loudly into the air.
You've never done this with her before, but you know whatever you're doing is the right thing because she's sucking in sharp breaths, her muscles flexing and it's so hot you have to drop your hand from her thigh to squeeze at yourself.
You're really being tested right now.
Despite that, you continue, using the hand you have on her thigh so slide up her abs as they twitch, and you grasp her breast gently over her bra, cursing yourself for agreeing not to undress. You just want to tear her clothes off and know what it feels like to press your body against hers, skin to skin. You want to feel that intimacy, even if you've never wanted to do that before.
It must be what she needs though, because you pull your tongue back, focusing on her clit again and she begins quaking violently. Her orgasm is a matter of seconds away and you ignore the ache in your jaw as she arches off the counter again, hands shooting from your hair to behind her to grasp at anything to squeeze and you watch as pleasure punches through her.
"San–Oh my God…" Brittany hushes through a broken moan, and the sight is so beautiful that you almost forget what you're doing, in favour of watching her, but you want to continue making her feel like this. It's without doubt the most incredible thing you've ever seen, the most incredible flavour you've ever tasted, and she squeaks as the peak of her high slams into her, and you honestly don't know why you two haven't ever done this before.
Her body is responding to yours, like yours was responding to hers. Like they're two missing pieces of a sexual puzzle.
Your compatibility and sexual chemistry are off the fucking charts.
"Fuck," Brittany stammers out, a light layer of sweat covering her brow and she glances at you but doesn't let you smirk at her or grin in a cocky manner before she's grabbing at your shoulders, tugging you back to your feet and kissing the taste out your mouth.
She groans, her body shaking beneath you, and you stroke your tongue against hers, wanting her to taste what you did. Wanting to share the gift you were just given. It's the most incredible thing you've ever known and days from now, you're going to be dreaming about it and remembering it like a lost delicacy, but for now, it's right in front of you. Right now, Brittany's breaking the kiss and looking at you again, whimpering softly and you know you should feel fear because there's only one place to go after this.
There's only one last thing to do and as mind-blowing as the past ten minutes has just been, you know this is going to be entirely different.
But this is the part you prepared for. This is the part you know you put time into considering because this is the most nerve wracking, and you were taking notes mentally as to what she might like and in what way.
All those plans though, they just shoot straight out your mind when she kisses you again, sliding down from the counter and pressing her body against yours once more. She's still twitching from her orgasm, her legs shaky but you grasp at her, holding blue eyes as she steers you to the side, flipping you around until the back of your calves bump a short surface, and you glance behind you to see the smaller counter.
It's about six inches shorter than the one with the cash register on it, and you lower yourself down, never breaking eye contact as she immediately straddles you, hiking her shirt up until it's bundled around her waist so she's bare, for you to see, her shirt now open and hanging down by her sides to reveal her perfect abs.
She sits down on your lap, devious intent obvious in her eyes and you're mesmerised by the sight.
You've never seen her like this, so effortlessly beautiful, her hair wild around her shoulders, her make up still perfect somehow and you literally have zero awareness of anything else that isn't you two, and what you're doing, but you want the control. You want to make her feel good, make sure she's feeling the way you do right now, and you begin the dance of dominance.
You loop your arms around her legs, using strength you didn't know you had as you stand, twisting around and placing her down in the spot you just were so you're lying on top of her on the counter, knuckles beside her head to bring your chests back together. Your mouth follows, the kiss deep and firm, and Brittany moans into your mouth when you flick your tongue against the roof of hers, her hands shooting up to claw at the back of your shirt, making it fall open like hers. You don't need to ask to know what she wants, and you return to your feet for two seconds, beaming with confidence as you rip the shirt from your back and throw it behind you.
She smiles, exhaling heavily as she lays there like a fucking angel, blonde hair like a halo around her hair and she runs her tongue along her teeth as she eyes you up and down, propping herself up slowly, now that you're almost completely naked. You don't feel bare though, and you probably should because she's not the only one looking at you, but you haven't noticed a single camera, or the squeak of Artie's wheel as he goes by, or even the muttering of anyone and for a second, you wonder if anyone's even there.
Not that you'd notice, because all your senses are zoned in on Brittany. She's occupying every part of your being and energy and focus and you're in fucking heaven.
She urges you back down with a crook of her finger, a motion you didn't know would turn you on until she does it, and it's welcome because you're aching in a way you're not privy to. You're physically hurting with the need to bury yourself into her, and you know it's going to be better than normal because you're going bareback. She's on contraception, as there was a brief conversation between Artie and her about it, and you both agreed not to use protection.
Pornos didn't get half the viewings, according to Artie's research and well, who were you to argue? Going without a condom whilst having sex with Brittany for the first time? You almost fainted with excitement at the suggestion.
Still, you know you're only thinking about this to distract yourself – even if it's doing the total opposite – because now you're fitting between her legs again, grasping at the base of your cock as you line yourself up and you stutter out a breath, lifting your head to look into blue eyes. Brittany's already staring down at you though, biting down on her bottom lip like she's stopping herself from speeding up the process and you can see the lust in her eyes. You can see the want thrum through her, her hips still rolling from her orgasm a minute ago and whereas you haven't spoken, bar curse words and each other's names, you feel the need for verbal confirmation that this is okay to do.
So, you lean down, bringing your faces together and pause in front of her face. "Ready?" You breathe, too low for the boom microphone hanging overhead to hear, and Brittany blinks, seeming a little shocked that you've spoken but welcomes it with a too soft smile.
Too soft because you can feel the heat at the tip of your dick, the air moist around you and you're desperately holding back on the urge of burying yourself deeply. This is the line you've always dreamt about crossing, always wondered what it would be like, and you don't want to fuck up what you have with Brittany, with her being your best friend and all, but you don't think you've ever wanted anything more than this.
It seems she's in the same boat too, because she swallows thickly, reaching up to bring your faces close with a cup of your cheek and tips your foreheads together, replying, "Ready," through a whisper.
And that's all you need to hear.
You take one last breath, one last moment to brace yourself – ignoring the way her eyes are staring at you like they could wrap you up and keep you safe forever – and sink into her, feeling hot, wet resistance at first, clenching around you. It rips the oxygen from your lungs, from the God damn room and Brittany whimpers loudly, bringing your mouths together gently to muffle the sound as she takes you all in, bit by bit until you're as deep as physically possible.
You don't move immediately though, knowing you're larger than average and also thoroughly enjoying the low mewling coming out her lips, stifled against yours and wait for a signal to move. You're also doing it for your own benefit though, the pause, because you're already teetering dangerously close to the edge and you've only just entered her, and there isn't a time limit set for you two, but you aren't hedging your bets towards being a long, drawn-out session.
Not that it's going to be quick, but you've never been this turned on before and you don't know how long you can last. Brittany's like nothing else you've ever known, in every single way, as you know now. There's literally nothing she can do wrong, and it brings a whole new meaning to you when you think that she's the most beautiful to exist. She feels like the most beautiful person inside, as well as outside, too, in this moment.
Though your thoughts are swiftly interrupted when she kisses you again, harder this time, her hips rolling upwards and you drag your own hips backwards, not pulling out of her completely but enough that her leg begins twitching. She likes it like that, and you crane your neck to meet her stare as you begin pounding into her, putting more strength behind each thrust until she's squeaking repeatedly, her nails cutting into your back until they could draw blood.
But you don't shift your focus, instead tuning every single one of your movements to earn the most heavenly sounds and she's blinking rapidly, stretching her neck out as she digs her head into the counter behind and you slide your hand beneath her neck to cradle the base of her skull, cushioning it and ensuring she doesn't get a headache after this. A soft smile plays at her lips, but she's far too deep into the pleasure to meet your eyes and her leg curls around your back, pulling you closer until you could fuse into one.
And you've had sex with a lot of women. You've been responsible for your fair share of orgasms, but you've never experienced anything like this. Your entire body is flooding with heat, pressure surging down your spin and prickling beneath your skin and for a second, you panic.
How will you ever sleep with anyone else after this? They'll just pale in comparison because no-one will have soft, pale skin that flushes so wonderfully as you slam into her. No-one will whisper your name brokenly as you tap that spot. No-one will ever kiss you the way she does when the beginnings of her second orgasm rapidly approaches, and you know for sure no-one will ever make you feel the way you do when she's coming undone around you.
She's massaging your cock rhythmically, your bodies moving like a dance you've practised for years and it's only then that it hits you hard in the chest.
This can't just be sex. You can't admit that there isn't an intimacy that you didn't expect in this moment.
No-one could ever make you feel the way you do right now, erotic and passionate and so overwhelmed if you put too much thought into it, you could probably cry. But it's hard to push away the thoughts of the teenage version of yourself that had an overwhelming crush on her who'd be responsible for the tears, because as you're here, rocking into her and creating the obscenest slapping noises, all you can see is why you felt that way. All you can feel is the same damn thing you did all those years ago, because somewhere deep inside, you think that after all this time, that fucking thing is still there.
And that fucking terrifies you.
It doesn't halt your movements though. It'd be impossible to as Brittany begins clenching every other thrust and then she's reaching down between your bodies, circling her own clit and it's only a few motions before she's spiralling into the pit of pleasure once again. Her body goes rigid, restricting some of your hip movements and the resistance is strong around your dick, but it feels so damn good you could come right now if you allowed yourself to.
"Santana," Brittany screeches, but her voice is low and croaky and sparks surge through your veins as she begins quaking violently beneath you, her orgasm being drawn out and it's intentional. You're putting everything you have into fucking her the way she wants, and there's a part of you registering that she told you how much she likes doggy style once upon a time, but you'll put your last dollar on betting that this might be her new favourite position now as she did say she liked being topped. Especially when it's you on the other end.
The peak of the climax fades, and you pull out slowly, pushing back in with more force and she moans loudly, the sounds etching into your brain as her limp arms slide along your back, fingers gripping weakly at your hips. You want to bottle those sounds up and keep them on your bedside table, stealing a listen every time you wanted to, and you think that you're showing your thoughts too much on your face because she meets your eyes finally, the blue now cloudy and dazed and she smiles softly, lifting one hand up to cup your cheek.
And you know in that moment, right there, that not only is she enjoying being fucked like this, but she's enjoying you fucking her like this.
But if you keep going down that road, you'll be reminded of all the confusion you promised yourself you'd hold back for this event. You'll open up that tightly locked box that almost broke a second ago, thinking how your teenage self would be so damn proud of you for this, for the wait, because it's given you the experience you needed to gain a connection like this with Brittany. Given the ability to do what you can to make her look at you like this, like she's falling in love with you or something.
You don't know how else to describe the expression on her face. Considering you're hammering into her, and she should be throwing her head back and moaning, she's staring deeply into your eyes, allowing you to see the pleasure as it courses through her. She's letting you in, to see the part of her you didn't know yet, and it's so deep, so intimate that you have to kiss her, stroke your tongue into her mouth to stop your brain from forming words you haven't gone over yet.
Brittany's nose nudges into your cheek, her head tilting so she can deepen the kiss and long gone is the concern about what it would feel like. Long gone are the nerves and hesitation you had when you were waiting out of shot, because this feels like the most natural thing in the world, and you know that means you're in trouble.
But you won't let those thoughts come out. You can't. That isn't what this whole thing is about regardless, and you shouldn't have been so naïve to think that you two could just sleep together with no repercussions. You were naïve to think that knowing what she looks like when you're inside her wouldn't change anything, because how are you ever going to stare at her without seeing this repeat inside your mind?
"San," she whispers, bringing your attention back to her, and she sits up, pushes at your shoulders, your motions temporarily pausing as she slides her butt to the edge of the counter, still keeping you very much inside her as her legs wind around yours, rooting you to your spot. One of her palms comes from behind her to find a path up your abs, bumping at the bra that still covers your chest and her hand settles to the left-hand side of it, her other grasping the opposite shoulder and you realise what she's doing.
She's got her fucking hand over your heart.
Fuck.
The stare isn't broken though. This entire time blue is boring deeply into brown and you can feel yourself getting too overwhelmed, too flushed with emotion with this eye contact. That's not something you're used to but it's so different with her. Everything is and your stomach begins turning for a whole other reason, as the pressure in your spine ten-folds until you're squeezing your eyes closed to hold it back again.
You can't though. She just feels too good and she's still fucking gazing into your eyes, making you hit the fast forward button repeatedly. The way her hips roll and meet your every thrust is like her meeting your step whilst dancing, and that isn't helping either. It's like she knows what you're going to do before you do it and you push your knuckles into the counter as you bring your foreheads together, putting your all into giving her one last orgasm before you release your own. Your legs are shaking, your body is tingling but aching with fatigue, and you're impressed that you've managed to last this long with the intensity between you.
It's considerably longer than you envisioned, but you can't hold on anymore and press up into her, bumping her nose with yours before you kiss her, just once, softly, as a silent notice to let you know you're about to come and pull back, staring into her eyes. Her hand on your shoulder slides to your neck, gripping it with force and she exhales shakily, whining lowly, your heartbeat rapidly beating against your ribcage so loud, you can barely hear her whimpering but she's preparing herself.
She's about to go into this climax with you.
"Brittany," you say, only realising you've said her name when she sucks in a sharp gasp and her eyes roll back into her head as you slide your hand beneath her ass, shifting her closer so there's no room between you and you tap the spot she needs. "Fuck."
You're bury yourself as much as possible when the fireworks go off, feeling the muscles clench around you as you fuck her deep and slow, the tug low in your groin sending you over the edge as her third orgasm punches through her and she returns to your vision, barely able to keep her eyes open as you let yourself go, jerking messily into her. You push your lips against hers hard, the electricity shooting around your body like a ricocheting bullet in a metal room and you both slump against each other's sweaty bodies as you ride out the aftermath of both your orgasms with skipped breaths.
But not before you crane your neck, nudging her cheek with your nose to bring her into one final kiss, exhaling heavily as the electricity begins fading out and she sinks into you, exhausted.
/
It only takes about ten seconds or so of your lips on hers, pressed softly together, for reality to sink in.
You hear the sharp sound of the clapperboard, alongside the sound of actual clapping as the lights get turned up, and you're hit hard in the face with the reminder that you were doing this for a porn scene.
It felt so far from that, though. It didn't even feel like anyone else was in the room around you, but as you begin registering the sound of people talking and cheering, you know you were just enamoured. You were in your own personal bubble with Brittany and fear strikes you cold in the chest when you glance around, seeing the forms of Holly, Artie and Kurt all stood behind the cameras, hands mashing together in an ovation.
And well, now you're embarrassed.
You look back, finding Brittany staring at you and you blink away the sudden panic replacing the overwhelming pleasure that was just coursing through you, reaching down to hold at yourself as you pull out of her, ignoring the sting of cold air and emptiness you feel when you disconnect. You don't show it, choosing to stare down at the ground to find a few items of clothing a short distance away, stepping towards them and scooping them off the ground to shrug on, chucking Brittany her underwear, as you resist the urge to ask if she's okay as she takes them gingerly.
You know you're panicking. You can feel the sweat forming and not the same type of sweat you just built up, but you didn't discuss with her what it would be like after having sex – you usually just leave with other girls – and now you're scared to look at her. Which is ridiculous – you were just fucking her – but all you focused on was the actual physicality of it, not the emotional, and you're starting to realise that was dumb of you because this is so overwhelming, you don't really know what to do with yourself.
"That was amazing, chicas!" Holly cheers, finally coming over to you and you're glad for the interruption because you don't know what to say to you best friend. "Super hot and sensual."
Sensual is an understatement. Mind blowing perhaps, but still, you're not a chump and you're not rude, and so you turn around, forcing a smile on your face and find Holly, now with Artie stood a few meters away from you, behind the counter that has the cash register on. Brittany's still on the low one though, sheepishly covering her chest up and you walk by her, shooting her a careful smile that she copies as you try to be as normal as fucking possible, even though you don't have a coherent thought in your mind at all because she's sliding her underwear up long legs that you were just between.
You can still feel Brittany all over you, and you don't think any number of scolding hot showers is going to wash that off you.
"That was fantastic… Acting," Artie adds on, eyes shifting between you with a smirk on his face as he says the last word, and for the second time, you panic. You weren't fucking acting. You think he knows that, too. You just went with the flow, but you're going to take that from their reactions, you won't need to be doing take two because you think that was intention with the dramatic pause.
Was it obvious to everyone?
"That's the best scene so far," Holly continues, grinning widely and Brittany stands, stepping up to your side, finally joining you but working on the buttons of her shirt up but you don't really know how to react, or how not to stop yourself from reaching out and halting her movement, so you just bob your head and silence sets in. There are a million things you think you want to say, a thousand questions you want to ask, but away from everyone else and you glance at Brittany, eyes briefly flitting to read the expression on her face but you can't.
The guard is no longer down.
"Well, we're done for the night, everyone," Artie speaks up louder, and you swallow thickly.
You didn't think you'd feel so strange afterwards, because you never feel like this. That with Brittany was just… Amazing. There are no other words to describe it and you don't know whether you want to ask if she feels the same. There's a huge chance she just enjoyed being fucked the way you did it, and you can't risk chancing a ridiculous question because you felt like there was something more there as there's a possibility you were just misunderstanding the situation.
Everyone begins busying around, a few more lights flickering on above and Artie gives you and Brittany a quick smile before wheeling off, leaving you with Holly who's stood in front of you, studying you both. You feel like you're back in high school, in the principal's office, about to be told off, but you can see a softness in Holly's eyes and you silently pray that she doesn't ask if you two are okay. You haven't said anything since you remembered there were other people in the room, and there's this awkwardness lingering in the air around you now. Brittany's fucking quiet too which isn't helping.
Why can't you just talk to her? You just fucking had sex with her.
"I look forward to seeing if anyone else can match that… passion," Holly utters and your eyes snap to her at the same time Brittany's does.
Fuck. Could they see it from over there? Did they pick up on the intensity, too? Was it entirely obvious to everyone else and oh my God, you're going to need to see that tape. There's no way you'd be able to get confused if there was substantial proof that what just transpired between you wasn't just meaningless sex and you want to check to see if you're going insane. You might be because Brittany's not looking at you still, instead chewing the inside of her cheek and mustering a weak smile at the other blonde.
"Go home and get showered ladies. You did a great job," Holly follows on, hanging back for a second before shooting you a wink and twirling off and then you're finally left alone with just Brittany.
And you need to be more normal. You need to stop freaking out because she's your best friend and you both promised that sex wouldn't change anything. It was just a business transaction, even if something deep in your chest is telling you different, and so you shake your head, relaxing your shoulders as you turn to the blonde and meet her eye for the first time.
"I think I need that shower," you half-laugh out, but you know it's filled with hesitation and it doesn't help when you rub the back of your neck, showing said emotion. You really need to chill.
Brittany smiles at you, but it doesn't reach her eyes and she turns around to lean back slowly on to the counter, legs stretched out in front of her like she's being careful as to the pressure between them due to sensitivity. She's still feeling the effects of a few minutes ago and heat scorches across your skin. It's entirely distracting that her limbs are still twitching, but you're more concerned that she's not smiling at you properly and not really meeting your eye, and you do what you'd usually do, prior to having sex, and reach out to her, grabbing her hands and ignoring the way your palms heat up immediately.
What the hell is wrong with you?
"You coming too?" You ask, lowering you voice and Brittany ducks her chin to her chest for a second, sucking her lips into her mouth and for a fleeting moment, you think she's going to say something. For a fleeting moment, you think you see different words balance on the tip of her tongue and narrow your eyes, you heart quickening its beat as you wait expectantly, but then she's looking back up and meeting your gaze, already replying with another choice before you can call her out on swallowing anything she might have said.
"Yeah, I just need a minute," she says, squeezing your hands and shit, you know what she means.
You could do with ten, and because she's your best friend, and her welfare is at the top of your list, you're not going to push her and instead squeeze her hand in return before allowing her the moment alone, and spinning on your heel to disappear back where you came from, into the darkness, out of sight. You lean against the wall, tilting your head back against the brick and close your eyes as you let the last half an hour repeat itself inside your mind.
You don't think it'll ever stop.
/