He's talking to you. "Maybe something with a Star Wars theme? Where do you think the location should be? The Lima Hotel?" He thinks out loud as he devours a bite of his lunch sandwich. His mouth is like a vacuum cleaner. "They have that big room, you know? Where everyone can dance?"
He's rambling now, and you swivel in your office chair a little, glancing at the time on your computer. He's been talking to you for only five minutes, but you feel like it's been literal ages.
Her eyes are like magnets, catching you from across the office. She sits behind her desk quietly, tapping her pen methodically along her work notebook. She's waiting for you, and you know it. It's almost become a game now, how long you can stand talking to Sam before you shoot a text her way. Two minutes have passed since you last checked the time.
"Maybe Tina's backyard?"
Her smirk is a test of your will.
"No," you say before Sam can spit another word. "I will strangle myself before I get married anywhere near lady Chang's household."
Your words seem to catch him off guard as his eyes widen. "Um..." He thinks for a moment. "Then maybe we can find—"
"Please," you stop him. "Just find a great place." You pull out your phone and type a quick message. "I trust you enough to do this one task without coming to me for help with every little detail." Your words are stern. "Just this one thing." You stand from your chair and put your hands on his shoulders. "You can do it."
He nods quietly.
"Now, I have somewhere to be," you say before patting him gently on the chest and heading for the door.
You know her eyes are following you. They always do. Sometimes you don't know how you could be any more obvious, but it seems like anyone has yet to catch on. You hear her pop her gum loudly as you pass, and you wonder what color she's chewing today. Probably something pink. She likes pink.
Walking down to the warehouse is always a daunting task. You always feel the need to sprint down the stairs in pure anticipation. Your heels are so loud against the dull cement, they sound like fireworks. You think about taking them off but decide to keep them on for show. After sliding the big metal door to the side, you look at all the boxes lined against the walls. This place is so dirty. You cringe, thinking about that one time you know you saw a mouse scurrying around in the corner.
"You couldn't even last 10 minutes."
You turn around, and she's leaning against the metal door with a smirk.
You shrug. "I tried my best." You can't help but smile at the way she folds her arms against her chest. She has the nicest arms you've ever seen. "Close the door."
Her eyebrows lift with a quickness you only associate with her, and her fingers brush against the corners of a packaging box as she plays with a piece of tape there. "How is the planning going?"
You really don't want to talk about this now. "Wonderful. Just great." Taking a step closer to her, you admire the loose buttons on her shirt.
She blows a small bubble with her gum, and it makes a quick pop. Pink. Of course.
"Care to share?" You point to her gum.
Her jaw moves one last time before she sticks out the chewed piece between her teeth. "Really?" she asks in all seriousness.
"Yeah." Your voice is just above a rasp.
Her hand slides along your waist, and she pulls you in close. "I'm not great at sharing," she whispers, looking down at you. You know what she's implying, and you look down at your feet as guilt seeps into you. Cold fingers touch your chin, and you find yourself staring at her again. "I'm joking." Her whispered response is a cover-up, you know that.
You place your hand on the back of her neck and pull her in with a brunt force. Her lips taste like some kind of berry, and you push her against the metal door. Her chest arches into yours, and arousal shoots through every inch of your body. It amazes you how beautiful her curves are, even in the hazy darkness of a warehouse storage closet. Your lips are on her neck now, and her dark red pumps are suddenly resting along your back. Her skirt has ridden up from her leg wrapping around you, and you eyeball a glimpse of her yellow panties.
"I can't stand the way he talks to me, like I'm one of his college buddies," you say into her ear. Her fingers weave through your hair, and she pulls on it lightly. "He talks for five minutes, and I tune him out immediately." Her breathing is getting heavier. "But with you..." Your hand begins to sneak up under her blouse, and you grab softly at her breast. She tugs your hair again with a heavy moan. "I want to hear every moan."
"Santana," she breathes.
"Every time you say my name." Your hand slips down her skirt, and your fingers tickle over her center. She bites down on her lip, and her head thumps against the rusty metal door. Her hips move like waves, crashing into your palm again and again. "Every breath." You nibble her earlobe. "I want to hear it all." Your fingers slip under her panties, and you feel her wetness. She's practically humping your hand, and you can't get enough. "Too bad we can't be too loud down here," you say just above a moan, and you slide your middle finger inside her.
She grips one hand tight around the back of your neck. "Fuck."
Her blouse rides up, revealing her belly button, and you decide to just remove her top altogether. After doing so, then unhooking her bra, you immediately latch your lips onto her right nipple. It's hard and cold, just like this room, and you lap your tongue around the edge. You take a moment to release her from your finger and grab at both of her breasts, squeezing and kissing them roughly.
"Mmm..." you moan out and look her in the eyes. She steps out of her skirt, and you hear her heels clank against the cement. You take a minute to glance her over. Her chest heaving up and down, her nipples with the faint glistening of saliva over them, and the damp spot on her panties make for an image you'll have to save for later. She's waiting for you to make a move, and you finally come out of your haze and grab at the hem of her panties. As you slowly pull them down, you crouch to hoop them around her feet, getting a whiff of her arousal pooling at her center.
She's completely naked now, and you haven't shed an ounce of clothing. You think it's kind of hot actually, highlighting your dominance over this interaction. As you begin to stand up again, you trace your fingers over her toned legs, up her thighs, and over her hips before you quickly turn her around and pin her face up against the door.
"Oh shit," she groans, and you see her mouth hang open as the side of her cheek is pressed against metal. Her eyes flash down towards your fingers, and you know you have to act soon, but first, you let your hands roam along the curve of her back and over her ass. Her ass is perfect. Hypnotized by the feel of her, your hands move around to her abs, then reach up to grab her boobs. Her hands are planted high above her head and she ruts out her ass against your center. Your breathing gets heavy; she could probably make you cum just by rubbing up against you, but you want to make her feel good first. "Jesus Santana," she says as she begins a steady rhythm of grinding into you.
You push back, itching to feel a little more through your business skirt. You can feel yourself getting closer, and she starts to move her ass in small circles against you. You bite at your bottom lip, trying to pull yourself away from her, but you can't. It feels so good. You're still gripping at her breasts as you grind into her from behind, and she keeps moving her ass in a way that is completely intoxicating. You close your eyes tight. "Shit." You're coming before you can stop yourself, moaning and panting heavily as she continues moving her hips. Seeing you from the corners of her eyes, she smirks knowingly. It's ridiculous how hot she makes you. You grab her shoulders and flip her back over to face you, then push her against the door again. You don't waste any time shoving two fingers into her center, and her nails dig into your blazer.
"Fuck," she moans again, and you know she's close.
You're pumping into her as you kiss at her neck, and you're almost sure you leave a hickey on the left side. "Hearing you come is my favorite thing," you whisper into her ear, then begin to pump a little faster.
"Santana," she moans a little more loudly than you'd expect, but you don't care by this point.
You move your lips to one of her breasts. "Come for me."
She's breathing heavily, and her forehead is glistening with sweat. "Fuck."
"Come for me, Brittany." You swiftly crouch in front of her center. You lick there and gently suck on her clit. Her center forcefully grinds against your lips, and she's coming into your mouth.
"Oh my God." She continues to moan as her orgasm hits her, wave after wave.
You wipe your mouth and begin to kiss up her body, but you're interrupted by the sound of your phone buzzing on top of a packaged box.
"You should probably get that." Brittany says before she bends down to gather her clothing. You hate how quickly this ended. Your phone vibrates again, and you open up the text message.
Sam: Where are you? Boss called a meeting in five.
Selling office supplies has never been your calling, but how else are you going to pay for your reasonable apartment in the reasonable part of this miserable town? You stop by your desk to grab a notebook and pen. Brittany is picking up another one of her ridiculously childish pens, and you smile. Brittany is the only one who makes these meetings a little more bearable. Just watching the way her crazy pens flutter around as she writes is enough entertainment for you.
"Let's go, guys! You're moving like a group of turtles. Let's go!" Your boss, Holly Holliday, is way too joyful for this extremely mundane job.
As everyone ambles to the conference room, you lose track of Sam, and you feel someone grab your arm and hold you back. "Sit next to me." Before you know it, Brittany is dragging you to sit beside her, and you can't complain. You plop your notebook down on the table and begin to twirl your pen between your fingers.
Looking to your left, you see that the annoying little troll Rachel has decided to sit next to you. You groan and look at the extremely large folder she has placed on the table. "Presenting a 500-page thesis today, Berry?" you ask as your pen continues to twirl through the air.
Rachel rolls her eyes. "I'm doing a thorough presentation on the safety of hygiene in the office, actually."
Before you can reply, Holly calls everyone's attention. "Okay everyone! We're here to talk about some sales for this month, and then Rachel will be giving a presentation on office hygiene," she announces to the crowd. Everyone glares at Rachel as she waves. "Now, Sales, I need you all to send me a quarterly average of your numbers later today. Can I get a guarantee on that?" You, along with the other salespeople, nod in agreement. "Great." Holly claps her hands together. "Rachel, take it away."
Your body slouches down a couple inches in your chair. This is probably going to take a while. Rachel pulls out an overzealous poster board that is bedazzled way too much for your liking, and you grunt. "Sweet baby Jesus," you think you hear Mercedes say from the back of the room. You laugh a little, and Rachel ignores her comment with a huff.
"As you all can see, I've prepared a poster here with all of the acceptable ways of preventing an office bug and/or sickness. First, as illustrated in this diagram here, it is most effective when you cover your coughs or sneezes with this swift motion." She does a pretend sneeze into her arm sleeve and you cringe a bit. "That is called the vampire cough..."
"I wonder how long she'll talk this time," Brittany whispers into your right ear.
You lean over. "Maybe she'll stop before we all fall asleep."
Brittany smiles. Her pen is dangling from her fingers now, and your eyes are fixed on them.
"It is highly suggested that you wash your hands after using the bathroom. Even though I think that that is a given, some employees seem to be missing the point." Rachel is glaring at Finn, and you lift your eyebrows. Only Rachel would know that Finn doesn't wash his hands after using the bathroom. Disgusting. "Now, onto hand sanitizer..." You begin to tune Rachel out as she drones on. Putting your elbows on the table, you notice Brittany scooting in closer to your side with her chair. Sam is sitting at the opposite corner of the conference room, drawing some kind of picture in his notebook.
"Do you think anyone is paying attention?" Brittany murmurs beside you, and you don't know if she's talking about Rachel or the fact that her hand is now creeping up over your thigh.
Your mouth feels dry, and you grab your pen with nerves. Her fingers are like magic. "Um..." you begin, but her fingers are way too distracting. Your mind wonders what would be happening if you had a skirt on. Her touch on your skin would be way too much for you to handle. She's looking at your arms again, and your goosebumps are starting to show. Fuck. You can be so obvious sometimes.
She smirks as her hand moves steadily up and down your thigh.
"I suggest using 99% proof hand sanitizer, but it seems any will do..." Rachel is still talking, unaware of everyone who's not paying attention.
"I bet she'll be up there for another hour," you barely manage to breathe out as Brittany continues her rubbing.
"Mmmhm." Her response sounds too much like a moan, and now you can feel your insides tingle with a fieriness only she seems to make you encounter. She won't take her eyes off of her hand caressing your thigh, and just the sight of her eyes makes you a little wet. Your legs widen a bit at the feel, and her fingers are now making their way closer to your center. Your breathing is starting to feel heavy, and you try to slow it down. You don't want everyone in the conference room, especially Rachel, noticing you working up a sweat in the corner of the room.
"Oh..." You breathe out unintentionally as her hand grazes right over your center. You know she feels the warmth there. Your eyes close for a second, and you squirm in your chair, flipping through a page in your notebook to make it seem like you're actually doing something. God, she makes you so wet. It's pretty pathetic, really; you feel like you're in high school and have never been touched before. As your eyes wander to Sam again, you notice that he's still looking down at his notebook. Good. You don't want him to be suspicious of anything.
"If you were standing up there, I wouldn't take my eyes off you," she says for your ears only. Her hand presses against your center again. Then, oh so slowly, she starts to make slow circles there with her fingers.
"Shit," you say under your breath, and Brittany smirks. Her fingers are still making the same motion, and your hips start to cant up slightly. You can't move too much, but you're already desperate for release. Still, it would be awkward if someone looked your way. You take a moment to glance around the room; everyone's eyes are as stale as an old bag of chips, staring straight ahead in the most zombie-like fashion. "Britt...maybe you sh-should sto—" She presses down on you harder, and it shuts you up immediately.
"This is more entertaining than listening to Rachel...don't you think?" she asks, and you nod slowly, loving the way her fingers touch the best parts of you.
"Now, some of you have been leaving your chewed gum in places that are unacceptable." You can barely hear Rachel over the blood pounding in your ears. "Brittany."
Once you hear Brittany's name, your head whips towards Rachel. Your heart is pounding so hard you think everyone in the office can hear it.
"Hm?" She looks up with the most innocent eyes. Her hand's movements have stilled on your center, but she doesn't bother to remove it. The table is covering most of you.
Rachel continues, "Do you understand, Brittany? No more leaving gum underneath the desks."
Brittany nods. "Right, won't happen again...I think," she replies. Rachel rolls her eyes, then, fortunately, turns back to her poster. Smirking at you again, Brittany proceeds with her fingers. You thought she would stop, but apparently she has other plans for you during this meeting. You don't resist.
You flip a page in your notebook and try to write something down, but Brittany begins to unbutton your pants, and you practically scribble nonsense all the way off your paper. "Bri..." is all you manage to mumble out as her fingers unzip you. You continue to do absolutely nothing about her roaming, and you can't believe you're letting this happen. Anyone could turn and catch you in the act of doing something totally inappropriate, but you're helpless against your wetness and Brittany's hand.
Her mouth leans in towards your ear like she is telling you a secret. "I'm going to fuck you in front of everyone in the office."
Out of the corner of your eye, you see her bite her lip, and you inhale deeply. "Britt—"
"Don't blow our cover," she says before dipping her middle finger down all your wetness.
Jesus, you think as she manages to rub around your clit while being completely discreet.
"Now, we will be watching a short video about bacteria being spread via computer keyboards," Rachel announces and shuts off the lights. It's dark now. No one will notice what you are doing, and you breathe a little easier.
"Perfect," Brittany whispers and pulls down your pants a little. Your work pants are now sitting right below your ass, and the seat feels cold against your skin. You're wearing lacy black panties, and you desperately hope no one can smell the arousal coming from your center. "You're sexy as hell," Brittany says in your ear and dips a finger under your panties.
"God." Her fingers are better than any sex toy you've ever encountered...or penis, for that matter.
Slipping her fingers through your folds with ease, her lips touch your ear again. "You're so wet." Despite the darkness, you know she's grinning. Her fingers circle around your wet clit, and your hips are grinding into them. You need to get this done before Rachel turns the lights back on. Slouching down further in your chair, you spread your legs far apart, then put your hand on top of hers and shove her fingers up inside you. Her mouth falls open, and you begin to pump her fingers while you still have a grip on them.
"Faster," you mouth to her, and she seems to get the point. She's looking towards the television screen now, and her hand pumps harder and faster. It feels so good, you can barely keep it together. Half of the staff is asleep or looking at their phones, and you cant your hips in a motion that surprises you. You're so close, and you lean your head back against the edge of the chair, making it seem like you've fallen asleep. Your hands grip the sides of your chair with force, and you do your best to stifle a moan. Then, Brittany's thumb presses against your clit once, twice. You're about to come, and you don't want to make a scene. You're gripping onto your seat so hard, you think you might destroy it. In one last roll towards Brittany's fingers, you're coming in the office. "Fuck...fuck," you mouth silently, and Brittany smirks at you. Her hand has slowed down now, and she is pulling up your pants.
The video is about to end, and you have to scurry to make yourself look reasonable. Hastily, you button up your pants, then lean over your notebook, scribbling some information before Rachel stands up and flicks on the lights. Everyone squints their eyes to adjust, and you see Brittany's head between her arms on the table. "Brittany, wake up, please," Rachel says as her presentation comes to a close.
Brittany lifts her head. "Sorry." She smiles, and you have to stifle a laugh and your overwhelming relief.
"Alright guys, back to work!" Holly calls out, and everyone scrambles out of their chairs.
"That was the worst." Sam has walked over and smiles at you and Brittany.
"Tell me about it," Brittany responds and heads towards the door, putting a hand on your shoulder and slipping past you. You can't help but stare at her ass as she walks ahead of you to her own desk.
"Santana, I found a great location!" Sam pulls on your arm and leads you out into the hallway near the bathrooms. His hands aren't like hers.
"What? Where?" You try to sound excited.
"There's an awesome outdoor spot near the lake! Look." He holds up his phone and shows you pictures of the location. It really is beautiful. Suddenly, images of you and Brittany in beautiful white dresses, holding hands, crying and laughing, vowing to love each other forever flash through your mind. "What do you think, babe?" Sam asks, and you cringe a little at the nickname.
"It's wonderful, Sam," you respond. Ever since you started hooking up with Brittany, you haven't been able to call him any affectionate name, and you wonder if he's noticed at all. "Good job."
"We're almost there," he says and grabs your face for a kiss.
You hear the door open, and suddenly, Brittany is standing in the hallway. Quickly tearing your face from Sam's, you glance over. She's looking down at the ground, purposely avoiding your eyes. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt," she mumbles and brushes past the both of you, heading for the bathroom.
"No worries, Britt," Sam responds and takes a step back from you. "I'm going to get back to work." He kisses you on the cheek, and you grumble to yourself as he leaves.
"Damn it," you groan to yourself and brush a hand through your hair. You don't think Brittany has actually ever seen you and Sam kiss before; you've always made an effort so she never does. You head towards the bathroom door and open it softly to find Brittany washing her hands.
She eyes you in the bathroom mirror. "So you guys found a place?" she asks and shuts off the nozzle.
You nod. "Yeah."
"The lake is really beautiful."
You take a couple steps towards her. You know she's covering up her feelings. You can tell by the way she keeps bouncing her leg up and down against the tile. She's nervous...or uncomfortable. "Look, I'm sorry you had to see Sam and me ki—"
"It's fine," she quickly responds. "He's going to be your husband."
You look down at the floor. "Right."
"Is it pathetic that sometimes...I just wish I could kiss you in public? Instead of having to hide it?"
You don't think it's pathetic at all. However, you can't bring yourself to respond. Responding means you feel the same way; responding means real feelings are involved. You can't respond, but you have to. Taking a deep breath, you force your mouth to open. "I want that too."
by ChristmasEveLastYear
