Santana closes her eyes, almost as if she's bracing herself to hear the negative words that obviously never come. She hears a very light gasp and opens her eyes to find Brittany looking at her dick, smile playing across her mouth, cheeks lightly pink. "You're bigger than I thought." Santana smiles in response. She knows she's above average (not that she's measured or anything), but hearing it makes some part of her feel good, even though she isn't really responsible for her size.
Brittany's hand is resting on Santana's hip. Looking down again, she traces some of the indented lines she sees, still there even though Santana had removed her compression shorts a while ago. "I hate that they hurt you," she mumbles, gently tracing a line across her abdomen. Then, she slides her hand lower and grasps the base of Santana's cock.
"Britt—" Santana moans, unsure of what she meant to follow that with. She hisses as Brittany very slowly, much slower than the Latina ever touches herself, strokes up towards the tip. When she gets there, she runs her thumb slowly over the sensitive head and across the slit. She watches Santana's reactions, trying to remember what she likes; she seems to like everything.
As she slowly strokes back downwards, Santana's hips buck up into her hand, and Brittany smiles. This is amazing, she thinks to herself. It's amazing and wonderful and sexy, and she is wet—really, really wet.
She strokes back up, glancing back and forth between her hand and Santana's face. The brunette has her eyes shut tight and her bottom lip between her teeth, clearly holding back any noises she wants to make. Leaning her head down, Brittany nudges Santana's jaw with her nose. "Open your eyes," she requests quietly. Santana complies, and her eyes pop open, brown quickly locking with blue. Brittany presses her lips to Santana's and whispers, "Does this feel good?" onto the Latina's lips.
"Oh God, Britt, yes." As Santana answers, Brittany squeezes slightly harder when she hits the base and draws her hand up with the increased pressure. A significant amount of precum is leaking out of the slit, and Brittany starts to go faster, eyes still locked with Santana's.
When she feels the speed of Brittany's hand increase, Santana throws her head back. Nothing has ever felt this good. It takes every bit of her self-restraint not to just buck up into Brittany's hand repeatedly. Reopening her eyes, she sees Brittany staring intently at her face, wearing a crooked smile and a look of what can only be described as adoration.
For a moment, Brittany slows her strokes again, then releases Santana's shaft, earning a quiet whimper from the Latina. Reaching further down, she lightly strokes her balls. Then, she grasps them lightly, and Santana gasps. Brittany smiles in response and moves to straddle Santana's thigh so she can use both hands. She starts to jerk Santana off again, watching the girl's hands grip her bedsheets hard with her eyes shut tight, chest arched up into the air.
Santana desperately tries to relax her body. If she doesn't, she's going to come soon, and she doesn't want to embarrass herself. So she tries to take a deep breath and relax, then opens her eyes to look at Brittany—which is a big mistake. When she sees her topless girlfriend, breasts bouncing with the movements of her hands, jerking her off while gently tugging her balls, she feels the tension in her stomach increase tenfold. She shoots up onto her elbows. "I'm gonna...gonna..." And then she does. She comes all over her own stomach and Brittany's hands, and much to her own pleasure (she's sure she'll use the image later), she manages to get a string of cum on Brittany's breasts.
Breathing heavily, she lays back down on the bed, exhausted in the best way. Then, the shame sets in. She'd lasted, what, less than 10 minutes? At least she hadn't popped off after like two strokes, but still. She's trying to think of a way to tell Brittany that she swears she can make it last longer, than she was just really excited and it's been a while, but she's saved from that awkward explanation.
Brittany settles in to lie on top of Santana, cum and all. In all her life, she's never seen anything as sexy as Santana's face as she came and the way she looked at her directly after. "You are so sexy," she purrs into the Latina's ear, kissing her there and taking her earlobe between her teeth. "So, so sexy, Santana."
"Please kiss me," Santana replies. It sounds a little more needy than she intended, and she's definitely not thinking about her first time when the girl just got up and left—or she's trying not to, anyway. Of course, Brittany isn't that girl, and she definitely isn't going to leave. She kisses Santana deeply, trying to convey everything she's feeling: proud that she was able to make Santana feel good, amazing when Santana looked at her the way she did, and so much better than okay (she didn't know if she'd ever feel even just okay after any kind of sexual activity). She feels happy, she feels grateful, and she feels comfortable.
She feels really wet.
Santana wants to make Brittany feel good. Although she doesn't really know anything about foreplay other than what she's seen in porn, which she assumes isn't super reliable, she desperately wants to try. In order to do so properly, though, she needs Brittany on her back. "Can I—" she swallows hard, trying to swallow her nervousness. "Can I touch you?"
Brittany nods demurely, and Santana rises up to kiss her, using her hand to gently guide Brittany by the shoulder to lie down on her back. Santana thinks she looks nervous—which, in truth, she totally is. She knows that what's about to happen will be about her, and sex has never been about her before; she doesn't know how her body will react. All she knows is that she's never had an orgasm.
"Are you sure this is okay? We can stop if you're not ready."
Brittany shakes her head. Despite her nerves, she's ready. She wants Santana to touch her; the amount of sticky moisture she can feel between her thighs is proof of that. Ever so slowly, Santana begins to slide her shorts and underwear down, and she sighs when her overheated center is exposed to the much cooler air. She bites her lip nervously when Santana looks down at what she's just uncovered.
"Brittany, you're beautiful. All of you. You're just...you're so beautiful." Santana rambles before cutting herself off by kissing Brittany. Brittany reaches up and pulls Santana tightly to her, feeling the comfort Santana's presence provides. When she releases her tight hold, Santana breaks the kiss ever so slightly.
Running her hand down Brittany's body, she tries to go slow but is unable to mask her enthusiasm. When she reaches Brittany's belly button, she veers off to the side to run her fingers along the crease at her hip. Brittany's breathing is uneven, which Santana takes as a good sign. Before she goes any further, she looks into Brittany's eyes once more, as if to ask for approval. Brittany nods, and Santana runs her finger, very lightly, along her center—so lightly that she doesn't even part her lower lips, a ghost of a motion. Still, Brittany feels it and bites her lip. She wants Santana to touch her harder.
Santana runs her finger along the same path a second time, this time parting her slightly and smiling at the wetness she finds there. She continues to run her finger gently up and down, occasionally dipping further. Then, with as much care as she can, Santana tries circling Brittany's clit, or where she thinks her clit might be. The reaction is instant; Brittany bucks into her hand and reaches out to clutch the Latina's shoulder.
Feeling braver, she runs her finger back down through her wetness before entering Brittany just up to her first knuckle. She isn't trying to tease her; she just wants to make sure that Brittany doesn't have to tell her to slow down or that she went too far, because she wants to make sure it never gets to that point.
Brittany pulls Santana tightly into her again, whispering "More" against her lips as she attacks them with several small kisses. Santana complies and sinks her entire finger in, finding Brittany's responding moan encouraging, then starts to move in and out a little faster and just a little harder. Slowly bringing her thumb up, she gently circles Brittany's clit again. After experimenting for a bit, she develops a rhythm that Brittany responds well to. She leans down and circles one of her nipples with her tongue, adding to the blonde's pleasure. Brittany moans her name.
Santana continues this rhythm, occasionally just fingering her or just rubbing her clit. It feels amazing. After several minutes though, Brittany feels like she's stuck—like this ball of tension is planted in her lower stomach, and it's a frustrating feeling. She starts to think too much, suddenly feeling bad that Santana has been doing it for so long, and she doesn't want her to get tired or sore or bored. Brittany briefly considers faking it, but she doesn't really know how to fake an orgasm since she's never had one and isn't sure how it works. So she just reaches down, stills the Latina's hand, pulls her finger out, and brings her hand up to lay it on her chest. She's breathing heavily and feels empty at the loss of Santana's hand.
"Did you...um, did you, you know...come?" Santana asks nervously, pretty sure Brittany didn't—unless nothing happens when girls with vaginas come. But she thinks she'd probably at least be able to tell. Brittany shakes her head no.
"Why did you stop me then?" Santana really hadn't wanted to stop; she could do it for hours. For days. Pretty much forever, if Brittany would let her.
"I'm not going to orgasm. I don't know how...I think my body is broken or something." Brittany tries to explain. "But it felt amazing. So amazing, Santana," she says sincerely. Santana thinks she's telling the truth but still doesn't really understand why Brittany stopped her. She feels ashamed, like she couldn't perform well enough to make Brittany come, but Brittany just pulls her up to lie next to her, both on their sides, and places her palm on the Latina's cheek.
"This was the most amazing night. I just made it to…whatever base that was, with my incredibly sexy girlfriend." Brittany smiles and kisses Santana's forehead, and Santana's heart speeds up at the world "girlfriend" being said out loud. She repeats it in a reverent whisper.
They kiss deeply, and when they part, Santana has a slightly uncomfortable thought. "We should probably clean up. I kind of…you know, all over both of us." Brittany giggles, then nods. "You can go first if you'd like." When Brittany nods again and gets up, despite her recent mind-blowing orgasm, Santana feels a slight stirring while watching Brittany's very naked, very lithe body. "Uh…you can wrap a blanket around yourself. Don't forget the flashlight." She hands Brittany the now-wrinkled sheet and points to the flashlight.
Once Brittany returns, Santana quickly runs to the bathroom to pee and wipe herself down. When she comes back, Brittany is sorting through her pajamas. Her heart falls; she'd been kind of excited to sleep with Brittany with all of their skin touching.
She pulls on her shorts and is about to throw her shirt on when she hears Brittany ask in a small voice, "Could we maybe just sleep like this?" Santana turns, still halfway through the motion of pulling her shirt over her head, to see Brittany standing there in just her panties. "I just…I kind of want to feel you. I think it would feel really nice. And safe, maybe." Embarrassed that she'd said safe, Brittany hastily backtracks. "Or clothes are fine, if you want. I just need to find my tank top."
"No, B. This way is good." Dropping her shirt, she gently hugs Brittany, their naked torsos pressing together tightly. Her heart swells with pride and affection that being naked with her makes Brittany feel safe in her vulnerability, that Brittany knows she'd never take advantage of her. She feels safe too. "Get under the covers. I'm going to blow the candles out. Will you be okay in the dark? Still no power."
"If you get in right after, I'll be okay," Brittany responds as she climbs into the bed. After blowing out all the candles, Santana glances out the window; it's still pouring, and the wind is blowing hard. Suddenly, a loud clap of thunder makes Brittany squeak, and Santana rushes to get into the bed with her.
Pulling Brittany into her arms, both of them lying on their sides, Santana kisses the top of her head. "Everything's okay, baby. I've got you."
When Brittany calms down, she notices that her face is pressed into Santana's cleavage and smiles. "I really love your boobs. Actually, all of you. You're my new favorite thing to look at."
Santana laughs, pulling her in tighter. "I feel the same way about you."
Somewhere between lazy kisses and readjustments to get even closer, they both fall asleep.
Not long after, Santana feels Brittany shift in her arms, which wakes her up. When she looks over, she sees that Brittany isn't awake; her eyes are still shut tight, but her breathing is shallow, and she's whimpering lightly. "Brittany" she whispers. "Britt-Britt, wake up. You're having a bad dream." Brittany doesn't wake, so she repeats, a little louder, "Baby, wake up".
Brittany's eyes shoot open. "Wha?" She mumbles out.
"I think you were having a bad dream." Seeing that Brittany is now partially sitting up, glancing rapidly around the room, she tries to comfort her. "Come here, baby." When she pulls Brittany into her, she notices that she's shaking and runs her hand up and down her back in an attempt to soothe her.
"I'm sorry." Brittany mumbles. "I didn't mean to wake you."
Santana looks at her face and notices tears in her eyes. She shakes her head. "You can always wake me. I'm not upset, B. What's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?" Brittany nods her head. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Brittany doesn't want to taint their wonderful evening, but she's pretty sure she won't be able to fall back asleep right away; she usually can't. Perhaps talking about it will help. "It wasn't really a dream…more like a memory. One night, my ex showed up at my house, because he wanted to do stuff. I didn't want to, so I just told him I couldn't, because I'd forgotten to take my pill. I hadn't, but I thought that might stop him. He got really mad and yelled at me, saying that he hated condoms and that I was an idiot. I told him that I'd just been busy with school and cheerleading so I forgot, and that he didn't need to be so mean."
Here, Brittany pauses to take a deep breath. The fact that Santana is hugging her so tightly she can't inflate her lungs all the way is not lost on her. "So then, he hit me and made me bite my tongue really hard, and it started bleeding. Then he told me I was useless to him, and he left. That's the memory, anyways, but in my dream, the only difference is we're standing in a field. And I'm only wearing my underwear." Brittany's words shake with the effort she's putting forth to not break down.
Santana can't hold back her tears. She remains silent for a few moments, trying to make the crying stop. However, tears continue leaking down her face in anger and sorrow. She focuses on keeping her breathing even and holds Brittany to her as tightly as possible.
"San?" No response. "I'm sorry…I shouldn't have told you that. It's my problem. I'm sorry."
Santana gently shushes her. "First," she says as evenly as she can, "I want to know. I want you to tell me everything. No matter how I react, no matter how mad or sad you think it might make me, I want to know. I want to know your past, if it makes you feel better to say it out loud." She takes a deep shuddering breath, her tears falling faster now. She's unable to keep the tears out of her voice anymore. "Second and most importantly…" Brittany looks up, her own tears falling now too. "I will never, ever hurt you. Ever. I will remind you of that every single day until forever if I need to, and it's okay if you forget, because anyone with your past might. But I will never, ever hurt you, B. Ever." Her sob breaks loose on the last word. Brittany cranes her neck up, and their tears mix as they kiss and cry together.
Eventually, their kisses slow and their tears stop. Brittany feels like she has a response stuck in her throat—something she desperately wants to say, and is positive she feels for real, but thinks it's too early to say. Plus, she doesn't want to scare Santana away, so she settles for a different response. "I am the luckiest girl alive. My girlfriend is perfect."
Santana smiles, having the exact same internal debate as Brittany and also opting to not say the words out loud yet. "My girlfriend is perfect too. Maybe they should meet." They laugh a little at her joke. After a pause, she asks, "Hey Britt, can I ask you a question?" Brittany hears the hesitance in her voice but nods anyway. "Did your parents know you were on birth control? Were you really on it just because of him?"
Brittany nods again. "Yeah. When I told my mom I was seeing him, she made me start taking the pill. I didn't like it; it made me kind of sick, and I lost my appetite. When I told Tommy that I wanted to stop taking it, he got mad. He said that I could probably do without a few meals and that I had to keep taking the pill because he didn't like condoms. When I told my mom, she said that most men hate condoms and that I should be smart and responsible enough to remember a pill everyday."
Santana can feel her anger and sorrow returning. What kind of mother tells her child those things?
"After he hit me that time, my mom saw the bruise. She asked what happened, and I told her I forgot my pill, so she took me to the doctor to get me the once-a-year shot. I didn't feel as sick, and my periods were really regular, which was good for dance. But I read some of the side effects…one is infertility. I really want kids someday, Santana. I mean, I'd be okay with adoption—I'd love them all the same—but knowing I might not be able to have them because of him or her makes me so angry. I tried to tell her. I told her that I read the pamphlet and that I could be infertile. She just told me to stop being dramatic and that it probably would be no loss to society if I didn't procreate."
Brittany starts to cry lightly again. Santana just holds her close and listens. Seriously, who the fuck are these people? How did someone so perfect end up in their presence? Brittany is probably the only good thing to ever come from them.
"I would be a good mom, I think. I think she's wrong."
"She's definitely wrong, B. She's…I don't have words to describe her, not ones that I'm willing to say, anyway. Do you still care about her?"
"I think so. She's my mom; I can't just not care about her. I just never really understood why they love my sister but not me. Sometimes, I think she cares...I think she got me the shot, because she didn't want me to get hit anymore. Later, when I found a better birth control option, she helped me get it. Now, I have this little thing in my arm that will keep me from getting pregnant for a few years."
While Santana knows this is just part of the story she's telling, she can't help but feel like the undertone of Brittany's last statement is "Don't worry, I'm still on birth control."
"If you don't like that thing in your arm, or if it makes you sick or anything…I want you to get it taken out if you want to. Ever. We can use condoms, when or if we get there, and we can take forever getting there if you want or need. Okay?"
"San...thank you for saying that. I feel like I don't deserve how wonderful you are. I'll keep it for now, because I like the regularity, and I don't feel any negative side effects, but if I ever want to take it out, I promise I will."
"Good. You're pretty amazing yourself, B." Even though she's pretty sure they're already as close as possible, she tries to tug Brittany tighter to her. Soon, she feels Brittany's breathing even out and drifts off to sleep herself.