Summary: After catching them in a compromising position, Mercedes bets Santana and Brittany that they can't go two weeks without sex.
"Seriously, you guys? Again? Santana, please teach your girl how to lock a damn door," Mercedes chides, covering her eyes as the two Cheerios scramble to make themselves presentable. This is the third time this week they've been caught in a compromising position by one of their friends on school premises.
Santana self-consciously wipes her mouth, still tasting Brittany on her lips. Brittany, on the other hand, doesn't seem fazed. They aren't a secret anymore, so it's not like they have anything to hide.
"Well Wheezy, this is the first time I've seen you out of the cafeteria during lunchtime. You deserve some kind of medal. Or did they take your tots away again?" Santana shoots back, hoping to hide her embarrassment behind her usual snark.
"Actually, I was coming to find you two, because I wanted to discuss some songs for Regionals. But I can see you're busy." She rolls her eyes, about to walk away when, just to further the humiliation, Rachel and Quinn appear behind her.
"Hello Mercedes. I didn't know you were here. Quinn and I were just meeting here to discuss our ideas for Regionals," Rachel explains, oblivious to the situation she almost stumbled upon. "Oh, hello Santana, Brittany. What are you two doing here?" she asks, finally noticing their presence.
Before either can speak up, Mercedes cuts in. "Take a wild guess." She snorts, shaking her head.
Rachel's eyebrows shoot up, and Quinn merely chuckles in mild amusement. She's known the two girls for a long time, and if there's one thing she knows with certainty, it's that they have the worst sense of control of anyone she's ever met. It is no surprise to her that they were having sex in the middle of the choir room.
"Isn't that like, the third time this week? Can't you just wait?" Quinn speaks, a hint of humor in her voice.
"Are you serious? They couldn't go two weeks without sex," Mercedes says, and both Quinn and Rachel stifle their laughter and nod in agreement.
"Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?" Santana challenges, never one to back down. A part of her knows that Mercedes is right, and that's what pisses her off the most.
"Because you two are like horny pre-teen boys on Viagra with a Playboy magazine and some lube," Quinn retorts, causing all three girls to laugh obnoxiously, leaving Santana fuming and Brittany uncomfortable and confused. Later, she'll ask Santana what Quinn meant.
Santana, now riled up, steps forward intimidatingly. "Yeah? If I prove you all wrong and we last two weeks, I get lead vocals at Regionals, and Britt gets a dance solo," she proposes smugly. Rachel looks at her in outrage, about to protest, but is silenced by Mercedes' hand in her face.
"Deal," Mercedes says confidently, more than ready to watch the two girls fail miserably and cave within the first two days.
Santana cocks an eyebrow and calls out to Brittany, who follows her eagerly and silently out of the room, leaving a scandalized Rachel Berry in their wake. It makes Santana even more determined to win this challenge, because God help her if she sings damn background again.
Much to Mercedes and Rachel's disappointment, they successfully last two days. Quinn just finds the whole situation amusing, because she knows Santana Lopez, and she knows the girl can't last a day without some kind of sexual outlet. Brittany is just as bad. As innocent as she seems to the world, on the inside, she's a sexual beast. It's no wonder they work so well together.
"San, I don't get it. So what if we lose? We'll just tell them we didn't do anything," Brittany suggests.
However, Santana is too proud and stubborn to let herself lose so easily. She turns in her seat in the cafeteria to face Brittany. "Look, it's not about that. I'd rather lose than win like that. It's just 12 more days, B. We can last. It's not like we're gonna die." Santana tries to shrug it off, biting into a carrot rather aggressively. She'd never admit it, but she's ashamed that after only two days, she's already aching for release. She and Brittany almost never go a day without fucking. It's just always been part of their relationship, and the sex is amazing, duh.
"This sucks." Brittany pouts petulantly, making Santana feel guilty.
"It's not ideal, but we're about more than just sex, right?" Santana asks, raising an eyebrow.
Brittany nods sadly, before perking up with slight hope. "We can still make out, can't we?" she asks.
Santana chuckles at her eagerness and assures her that kissing is fine, just nothing further for the next 12 days.
With that thought, Brittany and Santana get through the next few days. On the sixth day, Brittany asks, "So, how about I come over tonight?"
Alarm bells immediately go off in Santana's head. They've spent some afternoons together, but that's all. She knows if they're alone together at night, there'll be no hope in winning this stupid bet. Still, there's a naïve voice inside of her, telling her to say yes. Begging her, actually.
After a momentary battle of wills, Santana bites her lip and nods. Everything about their interaction is screaming sexual tension, and it's only been getting worse over the past few days. The night before, Brittany had called her and spoken in that low, sexy voice and tried to convince her to have phone sex. True to her word, however, Santana fought her desire and refused, again reminding Brittany that it will only be about a week more. Never in her life has a week sounded more like a year.
Brittany knows perfectly well that on Friday nights, Santana's parents work late shifts at the hospital and don't get home until after midnight. Really, Santana should have known just by that alone that Brittany is scheming, but her conscience just chooses to ignore it.
At about 7 o'clock, she hears the familiar knock on her door. She bolts down the stairs and swings open the door with evidently flushed cheeks. Of course, Brittany looks immaculate and beautiful with her hair down and a light, summery dress on, despite the ridiculously cold weather. Santana wonders if Brittany read her calendar wrong again, because she's also wearing mittens and a ridiculous furry beanie. She's adorable.
"Hey, babe," Brittany says with a beaming smile and leans forward to give Santana a chaste peck on the lips before entering the house.
They instinctively end up in Santana's room, because it's what they always do. Usually, they say a quick hello, and a few seconds later, they're humping like bunnies on Santana's bed. This time, however, Brittany sits on the edge of Santana bed, looking at the Latina curiously as she chooses to sit on the chair behind her desk.
"San…" Brittany whines. "Come here." She pouts, patting the space on the bed next to her.
Santana's body hums at the thought of being close to Brittany, but she knows she can't trust herself to be on a bed with her right now, especially with how undeniably horny she is. Just seeing Brittany on her bed, knowing no one is home, gets her blood pumping.
When she refuses to move, Brittany's pout intensifies. She furrows her eyebrows and continues staring at Santana, who sits stiffly and doesn't dare look up from the floor. With an impatient groan, Brittany stands up, walks over to Santana, boldly spins the chair around, and swings her legs over either side of her girlfriend's hips.
Santana swallows thickly, paralyzed in the position. She's scared to move, her arousal shooting straight between her legs as Brittany straddles her. This so isn't fair. Santana's fingernails dig into the bottom of the chair as Brittany arches her back and rocks her hips into her.
"Come on, baby. This bet is so dumb. I want you so bad," she groans, nuzzling into Santana's neck and swiping her tongue torturously against the sensitive skin before sucking it teasingly.
Santana sighs shakily and bites her lip so hard it might have drawn blood. She fights the temptation, as maddening as it is, and grabs Brittany's shoulders, pushing her back.
"B, stop," she pleads, her voice hoarse and her breathing ragged. She's never wanted the blonde more in her life, and she's pretty sure that if she keeps teasing her, her insides will light on fire and she'll spontaneously combust with all this pent-up sexual frustration.
"Please, Santana. I'm so horny, I can't take it anymore," she cries, sounding so adorable and hot at the same time. It's almost impossible to refuse. Santana wants nothing more than to throw her onto the bed, fuck her senseless, and get fucked herself. But she can't. Her pride won't let her lose this stupid, pointless bet.
Brittany groans and feels her face flush at the throbbing pain between her legs. It's all so unfair; she's so damn horny, and Santana, her girlfriend, won't even help her out. Well, if she won't help her, she'll have to help herself.
"I'm so wet," Brittany husks into Santana's ear, sending shivers down the Latina's spine.
Tell me about it, she thinks, feeling her arousal practically dripping down her inner thighs.
"Just kiss me, at least," Brittany offers — or rather, demands — as her lips crash down against Santana's. It is rough, wet, and hard. Pure sex and lust, and before Santana can even process it, she's being tugged forward and falls on top of Brittany onto her bed.
Brittany moans into the kiss, flicking her tongue, sucking Santana's lip like an animal in heat. Santana has never seen her girlfriend like this before, and fuck if it isn't the hottest thing she's ever seen. She bites down on Brittany's lip, ordering some kind of control, but it only turns the blonde on even more, who in turn grabs Santana's ass and gropes it forcefully.
Santana gasps, her body flushing as Brittany ravishes her like it's their first time. She's sure that if this continues, she'll come just from kissing her like this.
"Britt…" Santana protests between kisses before being silenced again by Brittany's commanding lips.
She feels Brittany's hands detach from her ass, immediately missing the connection, only to watch in awe as Brittany's right hand trails between her own thighs and presses into her panty-clad core. Santana's eyes bulge from their sockets, and before she can stop it, a moan slips from the back of her throat, guttural and needy.
"What are you doing?" Santana asks lowly, eyes now black with desire as dark blue pupils stare up at her.
"It's not sex if I touch myself, right?" Brittany says slyly.
Santana actually whimpers, pathetically. But she doesn't even care, because her amazing, beautiful, genius girlfriend has a great point. She's far too horny to even fight the urge any longer. "I guess not," she responds weakly, entranced by the sight between Brittany's legs. She watches, awestruck, as long, lithe fingers slide between damp, flimsy material and between velvet folds. Brittany gasps unevenly at the touch, and her eyes flicker shut. "How's it feel?" Santana asks, her voice rough and full of unrestrained lust.
"It'd feel better if it was you," Brittany replies, causing Santana to shudder at the thought and the pure sex in her voice. She can't deny that watching her girlfriend touch herself is really fucking turning her on. If this is going to happen, she's going to make it worth it.
"Yeah? You wish I was touching you, huh? You can't even go a week without me," Santana rasps, knowing how hot and flustered Brittany gets when she talks dirty. As always, it works, and Brittany moans helplessly and brushes over her throbbing clit.
"Touch yourself too, San," Brittany husks, too far gone in her own arousal to care about how desperate she sounds.
Santana doesn't have the strength to deny such an offer. This is seriously hot, and pretty much the closest to sex they can get. It's also exciting, because they've never done anything like this before, and it's really fucking sexy.
"You wanna watch me fuck myself?" Santana teases, lightly pressing her middle finger between her soaked panties, feeling the heat between her folds. Her hips buck, her clit oversensitive, not having been touched for days.
"Yes," Brittany gasps, about to slide a finger inside herself.
"Take your panties off. I want to see you," Santana demands as she does the same, stripping down her bottom half. She straddles Brittany, leaving just enough space between their hips so that they aren't touching. Just seeing Brittany's soaked, glistening core brings her that much closer to release.
"Oh God," Brittany moans, sliding her fingers through her drenched slit until her fingers reach her entrance, and she impatiently slides two fingers inside herself.
"Oh fuck," Santana gasps in surprise, rubbing her own clit as she watches Brittany's fingers enter herself. It is definitely the hottest sight she's ever seen. Gritting her teeth, she stops herself from reaching out to help her out, and instead mirrors the action, sliding two fingers inside herself as well. It feels so much better than she imagined. She's so wet and ready, her pussy clenches around her fingers as they slide in knuckle deep.
Her eyes flicker open so that she can watch Brittany, whose fingers are now pumping in and out at a constant pace. Santana's hips jolt at the sight.
"That's it, baby. Fuck yourself nice and hard," Santana moans, fingering herself faster so that her rhythm matches Brittany's.
Slick noises soon fill the room, as do breathless pants and unfettered moans.
"Add another finger, Britt. Imagine it's my fingers fucking you."
Brittany's eyes roll into the back of her head. She does as she's told, and a third finger easily slides into her weeping hole, which sucks her fingers greedily as if they're her girlfriend's.
"That's it. Now faster, baby. I wanna hear how good I make you feel. Say my fucking name," Santana orders, slipping her own third finger inside of herself, thrusting at a furious pace. She curls her fingers, trying to reach that spot inside of her that Brittany always does. She's so deep and full, she knows she's close, the sound of Brittany's ragged, throaty moans only spurring on her impending orgasm.
Brittany whines at the intense pleasure building in her lower stomach, coiling tightly. "Oh fuck, San, I'm close!" she whimpers, thrusting her fingers savagely, filling the room with wet, thwacking noises.
"Fuck, I can hear how wet you are, you slut. Whose slut are you? Say it, Britt. Now," Santana tries to command with an edge of authority, but her own pleasure causes it to sound like a helpless plea.
"Your slut, all yours. Fuck! Oh God, oh my God…S-San, I'm gonna come!" Brittany moans more loudly, her entire body stiffening as her orgasm nears. She knows it's going to be intense, but she desperately wants to share the moment.
"Oh fuck, B. Keep going. Just watching you fuck yourself is gonna make me come so hard," Santana pants. All she can hear is the sound of her own heart thumping in her ears, along with Brittany's screams of pleasure.
"Santana!" she screams, her hips bucking up of their own accord as her walls convulse around her fingers. Brittany's orgasm rips through her, wave after wave of pleasure lasting much longer than usual. She can feel it throughout her whole body.
"Oh God, Britt, I'm coming. Fuck! Fuck!" Santana lets out in a high-pitched scream that sounds nothing like herself. She comes undone, hard and violently, on top of Brittany, who is still moaning incoherent words as she continues to come.
Santana's body collapses on top of Brittany's as her orgasm shakes her entire core. She bites onto Brittany's shoulder to muffle her screams as the most intense pleasure takes over her body. It seems to go on and on forever, until she can't take any more. They're both panting, sweaty messes as they writhe against each other in pleasure.
"Fucking hell," Santana says when her orgasm finally starts to subside, aftershocks making her hips twitch and jolt every few seconds. She rolls onto her back next to Brittany and lays there, limp and completely spent.
"I can still feel it, San," Brittany whimpers, her hips still rolling.
Santana bites her lip. Brittany isn't even touching herself anymore, but Santana can evidently see that her orgasm is still going, and just like that, she's horny all over again.
"Britt…" she pleads, not knowing what she's begging for.
"Oh!" Brittany yelps as she touches her clit. Santana's eyes widen. "Oh God, San. I'm gonna come again!" she announces, and in an instant, Santana's fingers are furiously rubbing her own clit again, watching her girlfriend do the same.
"Me too. Fuck, Britt. You're so fucking hot," Santana moans, and in mere seconds, her clit twitches and another intense orgasm shakes her body. She cries out, along with Brittany, who comes again as soon as she hears Santana's release.
"Holy shit," Santana pants, coming down from another intense orgasm.
"I think I ruined your sheets," Brittany says, and Santana notices a wet patch pooled into her sheets right under the blonde.
She bites her lip, thinking mischievously that she won't be washing them for a while.
"Mmm," Brittany moans, gaining Santana's attention, who looks over to see the blonde with her own fingers in her mouth, tasting herself.
"Holy fuck, B. Come here," she groans, pulling the girl on top of her and crashing their mouths together so that she can taste her, and God, is it satisfying. Her tongue is sweet and salty with her own juices, and Santana laps up every bit she can taste. "Only you'd be smart enough to find a way around this stupid bet." Santana smirks, cuddling Brittany closer to her and tugging a sheet over their naked bottom halves.
Brittany chuckles mischievously and shrugs. "I try," she jokes.
Santana rolls her eyes and playfully nips at Brittany's lip. They continue to kiss each other until they are completely exhausted and drift off to sleep in a close, warm embrace.