DESSERT FIRST
Title: Dessert First
Pairing: Brittany/Santana
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Pie?
Spoilers: None.
Word Count: 3,464
Author's Notes: A birthday present for lynnearlington
"Really, Brittany, I don't think we need all of this…" Santana stated, a rather heavy expression in her voice, and an exceptionally heavy bag in her hands. Beside her, Brittany was carrying a bag just the same as they walked down the street. It was cold outside, because it was fucking winter and Ohio is a bitch like that, and Santana really just wished they hadn't needed to go out in the first place.
Slowing them down, Brittany felt the need to stop every several yards to wander, or remark on something apparently fascinating down the road, or wonder if they can make snowangels later. But Santana just wished the girl would hurry up so they can get out of the cold and she can take off this horrible sweater and coat. The two girls were returning from a grocery run for Brittany's mom, who apparently didn't have enough time between work and… well, more work.
Brittany had a bit of a jump in her step (despite the load she was hauling) and a smile on her lips that said she thought she was feeling rather clever right about now as she answered Santana, "Of course we need all of these things, silly," she stated, and continued before Santana could cock her eyebrow up and make a response, "We're gonna make some extras just for us."
The brunette stopped in her tracks. Brittany wants to cook? To bake, even? The girl had already admitted it herself - and Santana had had the misfortune of knowing just how true it was firsthand - that recipes were too confusing for her. Brittany carried on ahead a few paces before she realized Santana wasn't beside her anymore and turned to face her curiously. She expected an answer for why they stopped.
Santana shuffled her feet slightly, just trying to think of the right way to say this without being too blunt and hurting her friend's feelings. She did care about not hurting Brittany, and breaking things to her easy… when possible… was usually the best way to go about things. She'd figured that out a long time ago. "Look, B… I know you probably want to like… help your mom out for Christmas and stuff but… you remember what happened the last time you tried to cook anything?"
Of course Brittany just looked at Santana as if she were, as she put it 'silly' and rolled her eyes a bit and continued walking to her empty house, knowing Santana would fall in step beside her again. Wincing slightly, Santana followed the taller girl anyway.
"I remember I had trouble with the numbers and the counting and it was really messy so I licked your face," Brittany said as they rounded the corner and began walking up her driveway, "…and we burned some of the stuff, but it was still fun and I think I get it now that I had practice! Coach says practice makes you perfect!"
Burned 'some of the stuff' was a bit of a stretch, even Brittany knew that much. She was being entirely too modest. She'd burned nearly everything, and what wasn't burned was a grotesque pile of goo and blackened crust. But there was a swelling inside of her, of some kind of courage that made her feel hopeful and warm inside, that since it was Christmas, and she had Santana with her, that she could get it right this time. She could do anything!
Santana just sighed. She didn't think she was going to be able to talk the blonde out of this one. They walked inside and she put the things on the counter.
Still, she was left with questions.
"So… are we making extra just in case we mess one of them up?" she questioned, leaning her elbows against the island in Brittany's kitchen as if she hadn't a care in the world, despite being mildly worried about what was about to happen.
She had to admit she would really rather not burn down the Pierce's house if she could avoid it. That would probably put a kink in any of their future sleepover plans, at the very least.
With a sad headshake, Brittany put half of what they brought away in the fridge and cabinets, laying out the rest in front of Santana. "No, mom wont let me make any for Christmas," she pouted in a way entirely too childish for a girl her age, "…or make any cookies for Santa, still… but we're going to make some just for us!"
Oh no, she looked excited. And Santana just knew she was going to be expected to eat whatever Brittany made.
Oh no, oh no, oh no.
Santana tried not to make a face of horror or complete disgust. That wasn't very dignified and she had some fucking restraint, damnit. Okay, no, she didn't have restraint. Not really. But this was Brittany we were talking about, so at least the face she made wasn't as bad as it would have been if… like, Manhands had asked her to do something this terrifying.
After a pointless argument - which Brittany won via pouting and being far too adorable to say no to as usual - they started baking. Brittany found this huge cookbook her mom kept under the sink that was apparently from her grandmother or something, who really cares, and thumbed through it until she found the section she was looking for.
Pies.
Brittany wanted to make apple spice and cherry, because she thought those were most… festive, or something. Santana would have preferred something with some kind of creamy whipped topping or something, but she figured they were pushing their luck enough as it were without getting fucking fancy with it and shit like that. Also, that stuff goes right to your thighs and Coach isn't exactly lenient about diet. Not even for the holidays.
Fat doesn't take a holiday.
At least Brittany looked excited and happy that she was getting her way. Currently she was staring at the book and at the measuring cups (which she had scattered across the island roughly according to size, if haphazardly) as if it was all going to suddenly make sense. Her tongue stuck out of the edge of her mouth in some adorable habit that Santana wished she didn't do because it made it hard for her not to either melt or try getting the other Cheerio to agree to a quick makeout session.
Santana caught herself licking her lips, shook her head, and scooted herself closer to Brittany, glancing at the book and stealing the measuring cup from her friend's hand. She's totally got this covered. No need to let Brittany start them off on the wrong foot completely.
Especially since Santana was going to be expected to… eat this… She dreaded this so much she could feel a sinking pit in her stomach whenever she thought about it. Better to just try to get through it and watch Brittany as she cooks and is entirely too cute to be angry at.
Santana, very systematically, pointed at all the lines while Brittany filled the cups up with their various ingredients and poured them out into the bowls.
Brittany still ended up putting too much sugar in somehow… Santana was almost sure the girl did it on purpose. Much like how she 'accidentally' got flour all over Brittany's top and her cute little nose. Totally an accident, it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact she managed to convince the girl to take off her shirt and just wear an apron afterward.
Nothing at all.
Nothing.
Okay, maybe a little.
Either way, the damned dough was finished without too many hiccups in the plan if you don't count all that flour that was all over the kitchen now.
Santana didn't count it and neither should anyone else. Head bitch in charge, right here. Oh sure… Quinn might be at the top of the pyramid… but who are we really kidding?
Head. Bitch. In. Charge.
She gets all the hotties, she kicks all the ass, and she takes all the fucking names.
…Anyway. Moving on.
Brittany was rolling out the dough for their crust, and Santana figured this was something she was just going to sit back and enjoy watching. When she rolled forward - oh god would you just look at that girl's arms - she could see right through the side of the apron and… well, Santana was just sitting back and enjoying herself, as mentioned. Brittany had this one all covered.
And Brittany knew she had it all covered, too. She grinned to herself, pleased as punch. She knew what she was doing right now. She knew she was being watched. Hell, half the reason she wanted to bake was because she wanted to spend time with Santana.
Or maybe most of the reason she wanted to bake was because she wanted to spend time with Santana, if she was being honest.
Brittany had a plan. A totally brilliant plan. She'd make up for every time she'd ever made something for Santana that wasn't perfect, but she'd made her eat it anyway. Brittany was always proud of whatever she made… she figured it tasted better than it looked… but recipes were so confusing (numbers and math and things have weird names!) and stuff so she usually ended up with a mess that tasted as bad as it looked if you judged by the expression on darker girl's face when she ate it.
Cookies, pies, cakes, toast, pudding, cereal, celery sticks… Brittany could, and had, ruined it all at some point. She'd even caught her Easy-Bake oven on fire once or twice.
Or three times… Those things are hard!
Either way, her plan tonight was going good, and like… for once, this actually looked right! She was so happy with herself, even she couldn't believe it. Santana had been watching her the whole time really closely. Like, superdooperclose.
And it wasn't all because she was scared Brittany was going to accidentally pour the wet ingredients into the dry bowl at the wrong time or something.
Brittany didn't think so, anyway… Brittany kinda had like a sixth… seventh… whatever, she didn't like math, but she had a sense that Santana was totally watching her because she was like the hottest thing in the room.
Well, maybe that was the oven, but…
But Santana totally wanted to do her right now. Brittany'd had to hold off her advances a couple of times by saying she really wanted to get this baking done.
She did want to get the cooking done, of course, but really it was kinda hard to say no to Santana when she was right there and so pretty. Brittany wasn't the best at self-control when it came to sex. Why should she be when most people were more than willing to do it with her whenever she wanted? That'd just be stupid.
Brittany was stupid, but she wasn't stupid.
…Where were we? Oh yeah! Putting the filling stuff into the crust now! They did that, and Santana (NOT BRITTANY) put it into the oven and set the timer… and then they had nothing to do but wait.
Brittany hadn't considered the fact that she would now have to wait for the pies to finish cooking before she could get to her plan… what was she going to do? Santana was looking at her with that 'I want to scissor you so hard right now' face that Brittany was very, very, very familiar with… But Brittany knew that would mess up her genius plan.
Her completely genius plan to make up for every time she made Santana eat something she'd never wanted to eat in the first place. Super villains from, like, comic books and stuff couldn't come up with more genius plans than this!
And there were some smart bad dudes in those comic books. She'd know because West Brody would read them to her sometimes when they dated, and now she went over to his house sometimes because he was a really sweet guy and… well, she liked super villains.
But Santana was looking at her and...
…And about an hour later, Brittany put her apron back on and Santana, now naked, got their pies out of the oven.
It was about then Santana realized she still didn't know exactly why Brittany wanted to make special pies just for them, but she was looking at them now and admitting to herself they actually didn't look too bad. It was… amazing, really. Undoubtedly it was because of her expert touch more than Brittany's fumbling moves (the girl had nearly spilled all the cherries on the floor…), but the pies actually looked edible!
"So… why did you want us to make a pie, anyway?" Santana questioned once they were largely cooled, poking one slightly to check the temperature and taking in the smell of the apple one she had in front of her. Damn that smelled good.
In response, the edges of Brittany's lips curled in some predatory way that took Santana aback when she noticed it.
"Uh, Britt?" Brittany was advancing on her now, but Santana just stayed in her place. It wasn't scary - Brittany was never scary - but that look in her eyes wasn't innocent. It was more confusing than anything, because they'd just had sex for an hour and...
And why was Brittany picking up the pie as she backed Santana up against the counter?
"I wanted us," Brittany started, pushing herself against Santana once she had her right where she wanted her, "To eat the pies."
Well, that was anti-climactic. Of course she wanted them to eat the pie, Santana thought to herself. But Brittany was so close to her now, Santana kind of didn't care. She often lost her train of thought when those blue, doe-like eyes were so close.
Brittany was looking at her expectantly. What did she want? What was she expecting?
The blonde sighed. The sound was heavy and disappointed, but had a mocking undercurrent to it. "You don't get it. Guess I'll show you."
She didn't get it? What was there to be getting when… oh.
Oh.
Oh.
Well, it certainly made a lot more sense now that Brittany had stuck her finger inside the cherry pie and was sucking the thick syrup off of her finger like… like that…
And now Santana was wondering why they had never done this sort of thing before, because this seemed like the greatest fucking idea to have ever happened. What had seemed stupid - and possibly dangerous to her health if nothing else - just an hour before had climbed its way up into her list of 'quite possibly the only thing worth living for.'
Santana Lopez loved pie, if she was allowed to admit such a think aloud. Deserts in general made her kind of want to drool, and what she got totally blitzed out of her mind, she was known to eat anything sweet in her sights. She regretted it later but she loved it while it was happening.
The only pleasures worth anything are the guilty ones.
Even if the sugar-sensing monster called Sue Sylvester could tell what you had done even if you did it in the next county and made you run laps until you collapsed the next day.
However, let's just bring it right on back to the important thing here, right back to Brittany and her cherry pie, both of whom looked entirely too delicious for their own good right now.
Brittany managed to somehow hoist Santana up onto the counter, and quickly wiggled her way between Santana's toned caramel-shaded thighs, grabbing one of them with her free hand. Then she seemed to decide the pie was better off being set beside Santana so both her hands could be free, and she leaned in slow for a kiss. Santana could, very lightly, taste cherry on her lips, and her tongue. She could feel Brittany smile against her mouth, teasing, lingering as she stroked her fingers up her hip and across her taut stomach. It didn't matter that they had already had sex today; she was drunk with the desire for more. They both were.
Santana deepened the embrace, pulling Brittany against her body. But Brittany pulled her head back, leaning away.
"We're supposed to eat the pie," she made note, pointing at it as she glanced down, like it was the most important thing in the world. Maybe it kinda was, right now.
It did look damned appetizing, she had to admit. And Brittany clearly went to a lot of trouble to make this happen.
Santana decided to just go for it. Pushing her fingers into the top layer of crust, she brought it back out with a handful of cherry coating her and, with a huge grin on her face, she messily shoved it into Brittany's face and into her mouth. Brittany was shocked for a moment, but then she quickly picked up her own bit of pie and mirrored the move, rubbing it in as she did so before leaning in for another sloppy, fun kiss. The girl giggled, the humor of it all making her giddy and excitable.
It was sticky, and her lips smacked against Santana's skin, but it was yummy, sweet, and not unpleasant at all. She licked Santana as she parted from her lips, kissing her way across her cheek, down her throat, leaving a wet trail behind her as she went, a streak of cherry-flavored goodness. Santana threaded her finger's into Brittany's hair, neither of them really caring how dirty they were being at the moment. They were kind of past that.
And it looked like, if they weren't past it yet, they were about to be in a few short moments, since Brittany was making her way back to the pie… and her intentions of where she was going to be putting soon it were quite clear.
Oh, Brittany knew what she was doing.
Santana had to admit this was actually… well, strange, but she wasn't thinking about the strangeness because it was still fucking hot. The way Brittany was looking up at her, devilish smile playing on her face… Santana felt heated and flushed to her very core.
Brittany was not the innocent little flower a lot of people seemed to think she was. It was easy to forget how much she got around because she was as sweet as… well, if you'd forgive the obvious pun, pie. But underneath that shell of childishness, there was definitely something far-from-angelic lurking under there.
It was still warm when Brittany finally put the pie in the one place she had been really planning to put it all day long - and it was an unusual sensation, feeling it there, as it slowly slid downwards…
Would it be strange to admit it was possibly the best new sensation she'd ever felt?
Santana was already wet as it were, her sex already coated, this was just adding to it. And then Brittany leaned down, bent on to her knees before her, and moved between Santana's legs. Her tongue snaked out, and… and Santana moaned, because she could do nothing else.
Her eyes closed shut, and everything was blocked out, yet all of it grew so much bigger. She could feel Brittany - who was now very happily, and loudly, going to town down there and adding her hand to the party while she was at it - and as strange as it was, as new and foreign yet somehow familiar, the added pie made this somehow far more maddening than it would be were it not there.
Santana bucked as Brittany's teeth ran along her sensitive areas, riding smoothly along the surface as she ate, never painful but always enough to make Santana's head swirl and her body involuntarily jump in just the right way. Fingers dug lightly into the skin of Brittany's scalp, tugging her closer, pulling her in, silently demanding in a way Santana's mouth couldn't. Santana couldn't speak, but she was making a whole lot of noise. Brittany was glad she had a big house and her neighbors probably couldn't hear them.
Truthfully, considering how mild-blowing it all was, it was over rather shortly… But they do say good things come in small packages. And that was most definitely a good thing, Santana thought.
Getting herself up from off the floor, Brittany, mouth still surrounded with all things good and sticky, came back up for a hard kiss, slowly working Santana down from her high until the girl was calm again.
Eventually, they parted, and Santana kind of began to remember herself. "So… what's the apple pie for?"
Brittany just grinned.
"That one's your dessert."
Pairing: Brittany/Santana
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Pie?
Spoilers: None.
Word Count: 3,464
Author's Notes: A birthday present for lynnearlington
"Really, Brittany, I don't think we need all of this…" Santana stated, a rather heavy expression in her voice, and an exceptionally heavy bag in her hands. Beside her, Brittany was carrying a bag just the same as they walked down the street. It was cold outside, because it was fucking winter and Ohio is a bitch like that, and Santana really just wished they hadn't needed to go out in the first place.
Slowing them down, Brittany felt the need to stop every several yards to wander, or remark on something apparently fascinating down the road, or wonder if they can make snowangels later. But Santana just wished the girl would hurry up so they can get out of the cold and she can take off this horrible sweater and coat. The two girls were returning from a grocery run for Brittany's mom, who apparently didn't have enough time between work and… well, more work.
Brittany had a bit of a jump in her step (despite the load she was hauling) and a smile on her lips that said she thought she was feeling rather clever right about now as she answered Santana, "Of course we need all of these things, silly," she stated, and continued before Santana could cock her eyebrow up and make a response, "We're gonna make some extras just for us."
The brunette stopped in her tracks. Brittany wants to cook? To bake, even? The girl had already admitted it herself - and Santana had had the misfortune of knowing just how true it was firsthand - that recipes were too confusing for her. Brittany carried on ahead a few paces before she realized Santana wasn't beside her anymore and turned to face her curiously. She expected an answer for why they stopped.
Santana shuffled her feet slightly, just trying to think of the right way to say this without being too blunt and hurting her friend's feelings. She did care about not hurting Brittany, and breaking things to her easy… when possible… was usually the best way to go about things. She'd figured that out a long time ago. "Look, B… I know you probably want to like… help your mom out for Christmas and stuff but… you remember what happened the last time you tried to cook anything?"
Of course Brittany just looked at Santana as if she were, as she put it 'silly' and rolled her eyes a bit and continued walking to her empty house, knowing Santana would fall in step beside her again. Wincing slightly, Santana followed the taller girl anyway.
"I remember I had trouble with the numbers and the counting and it was really messy so I licked your face," Brittany said as they rounded the corner and began walking up her driveway, "…and we burned some of the stuff, but it was still fun and I think I get it now that I had practice! Coach says practice makes you perfect!"
Burned 'some of the stuff' was a bit of a stretch, even Brittany knew that much. She was being entirely too modest. She'd burned nearly everything, and what wasn't burned was a grotesque pile of goo and blackened crust. But there was a swelling inside of her, of some kind of courage that made her feel hopeful and warm inside, that since it was Christmas, and she had Santana with her, that she could get it right this time. She could do anything!
Santana just sighed. She didn't think she was going to be able to talk the blonde out of this one. They walked inside and she put the things on the counter.
Still, she was left with questions.
"So… are we making extra just in case we mess one of them up?" she questioned, leaning her elbows against the island in Brittany's kitchen as if she hadn't a care in the world, despite being mildly worried about what was about to happen.
She had to admit she would really rather not burn down the Pierce's house if she could avoid it. That would probably put a kink in any of their future sleepover plans, at the very least.
With a sad headshake, Brittany put half of what they brought away in the fridge and cabinets, laying out the rest in front of Santana. "No, mom wont let me make any for Christmas," she pouted in a way entirely too childish for a girl her age, "…or make any cookies for Santa, still… but we're going to make some just for us!"
Oh no, she looked excited. And Santana just knew she was going to be expected to eat whatever Brittany made.
Oh no, oh no, oh no.
Santana tried not to make a face of horror or complete disgust. That wasn't very dignified and she had some fucking restraint, damnit. Okay, no, she didn't have restraint. Not really. But this was Brittany we were talking about, so at least the face she made wasn't as bad as it would have been if… like, Manhands had asked her to do something this terrifying.
After a pointless argument - which Brittany won via pouting and being far too adorable to say no to as usual - they started baking. Brittany found this huge cookbook her mom kept under the sink that was apparently from her grandmother or something, who really cares, and thumbed through it until she found the section she was looking for.
Pies.
Brittany wanted to make apple spice and cherry, because she thought those were most… festive, or something. Santana would have preferred something with some kind of creamy whipped topping or something, but she figured they were pushing their luck enough as it were without getting fucking fancy with it and shit like that. Also, that stuff goes right to your thighs and Coach isn't exactly lenient about diet. Not even for the holidays.
Fat doesn't take a holiday.
At least Brittany looked excited and happy that she was getting her way. Currently she was staring at the book and at the measuring cups (which she had scattered across the island roughly according to size, if haphazardly) as if it was all going to suddenly make sense. Her tongue stuck out of the edge of her mouth in some adorable habit that Santana wished she didn't do because it made it hard for her not to either melt or try getting the other Cheerio to agree to a quick makeout session.
Santana caught herself licking her lips, shook her head, and scooted herself closer to Brittany, glancing at the book and stealing the measuring cup from her friend's hand. She's totally got this covered. No need to let Brittany start them off on the wrong foot completely.
Especially since Santana was going to be expected to… eat this… She dreaded this so much she could feel a sinking pit in her stomach whenever she thought about it. Better to just try to get through it and watch Brittany as she cooks and is entirely too cute to be angry at.
Santana, very systematically, pointed at all the lines while Brittany filled the cups up with their various ingredients and poured them out into the bowls.
Brittany still ended up putting too much sugar in somehow… Santana was almost sure the girl did it on purpose. Much like how she 'accidentally' got flour all over Brittany's top and her cute little nose. Totally an accident, it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact she managed to convince the girl to take off her shirt and just wear an apron afterward.
Nothing at all.
Nothing.
Okay, maybe a little.
Either way, the damned dough was finished without too many hiccups in the plan if you don't count all that flour that was all over the kitchen now.
Santana didn't count it and neither should anyone else. Head bitch in charge, right here. Oh sure… Quinn might be at the top of the pyramid… but who are we really kidding?
Head. Bitch. In. Charge.
She gets all the hotties, she kicks all the ass, and she takes all the fucking names.
…Anyway. Moving on.
Brittany was rolling out the dough for their crust, and Santana figured this was something she was just going to sit back and enjoy watching. When she rolled forward - oh god would you just look at that girl's arms - she could see right through the side of the apron and… well, Santana was just sitting back and enjoying herself, as mentioned. Brittany had this one all covered.
And Brittany knew she had it all covered, too. She grinned to herself, pleased as punch. She knew what she was doing right now. She knew she was being watched. Hell, half the reason she wanted to bake was because she wanted to spend time with Santana.
Or maybe most of the reason she wanted to bake was because she wanted to spend time with Santana, if she was being honest.
Brittany had a plan. A totally brilliant plan. She'd make up for every time she'd ever made something for Santana that wasn't perfect, but she'd made her eat it anyway. Brittany was always proud of whatever she made… she figured it tasted better than it looked… but recipes were so confusing (numbers and math and things have weird names!) and stuff so she usually ended up with a mess that tasted as bad as it looked if you judged by the expression on darker girl's face when she ate it.
Cookies, pies, cakes, toast, pudding, cereal, celery sticks… Brittany could, and had, ruined it all at some point. She'd even caught her Easy-Bake oven on fire once or twice.
Or three times… Those things are hard!
Either way, her plan tonight was going good, and like… for once, this actually looked right! She was so happy with herself, even she couldn't believe it. Santana had been watching her the whole time really closely. Like, superdooperclose.
And it wasn't all because she was scared Brittany was going to accidentally pour the wet ingredients into the dry bowl at the wrong time or something.
Brittany didn't think so, anyway… Brittany kinda had like a sixth… seventh… whatever, she didn't like math, but she had a sense that Santana was totally watching her because she was like the hottest thing in the room.
Well, maybe that was the oven, but…
But Santana totally wanted to do her right now. Brittany'd had to hold off her advances a couple of times by saying she really wanted to get this baking done.
She did want to get the cooking done, of course, but really it was kinda hard to say no to Santana when she was right there and so pretty. Brittany wasn't the best at self-control when it came to sex. Why should she be when most people were more than willing to do it with her whenever she wanted? That'd just be stupid.
Brittany was stupid, but she wasn't stupid.
…Where were we? Oh yeah! Putting the filling stuff into the crust now! They did that, and Santana (NOT BRITTANY) put it into the oven and set the timer… and then they had nothing to do but wait.
Brittany hadn't considered the fact that she would now have to wait for the pies to finish cooking before she could get to her plan… what was she going to do? Santana was looking at her with that 'I want to scissor you so hard right now' face that Brittany was very, very, very familiar with… But Brittany knew that would mess up her genius plan.
Her completely genius plan to make up for every time she made Santana eat something she'd never wanted to eat in the first place. Super villains from, like, comic books and stuff couldn't come up with more genius plans than this!
And there were some smart bad dudes in those comic books. She'd know because West Brody would read them to her sometimes when they dated, and now she went over to his house sometimes because he was a really sweet guy and… well, she liked super villains.
But Santana was looking at her and...
…And about an hour later, Brittany put her apron back on and Santana, now naked, got their pies out of the oven.
It was about then Santana realized she still didn't know exactly why Brittany wanted to make special pies just for them, but she was looking at them now and admitting to herself they actually didn't look too bad. It was… amazing, really. Undoubtedly it was because of her expert touch more than Brittany's fumbling moves (the girl had nearly spilled all the cherries on the floor…), but the pies actually looked edible!
"So… why did you want us to make a pie, anyway?" Santana questioned once they were largely cooled, poking one slightly to check the temperature and taking in the smell of the apple one she had in front of her. Damn that smelled good.
In response, the edges of Brittany's lips curled in some predatory way that took Santana aback when she noticed it.
"Uh, Britt?" Brittany was advancing on her now, but Santana just stayed in her place. It wasn't scary - Brittany was never scary - but that look in her eyes wasn't innocent. It was more confusing than anything, because they'd just had sex for an hour and...
And why was Brittany picking up the pie as she backed Santana up against the counter?
"I wanted us," Brittany started, pushing herself against Santana once she had her right where she wanted her, "To eat the pies."
Well, that was anti-climactic. Of course she wanted them to eat the pie, Santana thought to herself. But Brittany was so close to her now, Santana kind of didn't care. She often lost her train of thought when those blue, doe-like eyes were so close.
Brittany was looking at her expectantly. What did she want? What was she expecting?
The blonde sighed. The sound was heavy and disappointed, but had a mocking undercurrent to it. "You don't get it. Guess I'll show you."
She didn't get it? What was there to be getting when… oh.
Oh.
Oh.
Well, it certainly made a lot more sense now that Brittany had stuck her finger inside the cherry pie and was sucking the thick syrup off of her finger like… like that…
And now Santana was wondering why they had never done this sort of thing before, because this seemed like the greatest fucking idea to have ever happened. What had seemed stupid - and possibly dangerous to her health if nothing else - just an hour before had climbed its way up into her list of 'quite possibly the only thing worth living for.'
Santana Lopez loved pie, if she was allowed to admit such a think aloud. Deserts in general made her kind of want to drool, and what she got totally blitzed out of her mind, she was known to eat anything sweet in her sights. She regretted it later but she loved it while it was happening.
The only pleasures worth anything are the guilty ones.
Even if the sugar-sensing monster called Sue Sylvester could tell what you had done even if you did it in the next county and made you run laps until you collapsed the next day.
However, let's just bring it right on back to the important thing here, right back to Brittany and her cherry pie, both of whom looked entirely too delicious for their own good right now.
Brittany managed to somehow hoist Santana up onto the counter, and quickly wiggled her way between Santana's toned caramel-shaded thighs, grabbing one of them with her free hand. Then she seemed to decide the pie was better off being set beside Santana so both her hands could be free, and she leaned in slow for a kiss. Santana could, very lightly, taste cherry on her lips, and her tongue. She could feel Brittany smile against her mouth, teasing, lingering as she stroked her fingers up her hip and across her taut stomach. It didn't matter that they had already had sex today; she was drunk with the desire for more. They both were.
Santana deepened the embrace, pulling Brittany against her body. But Brittany pulled her head back, leaning away.
"We're supposed to eat the pie," she made note, pointing at it as she glanced down, like it was the most important thing in the world. Maybe it kinda was, right now.
It did look damned appetizing, she had to admit. And Brittany clearly went to a lot of trouble to make this happen.
Santana decided to just go for it. Pushing her fingers into the top layer of crust, she brought it back out with a handful of cherry coating her and, with a huge grin on her face, she messily shoved it into Brittany's face and into her mouth. Brittany was shocked for a moment, but then she quickly picked up her own bit of pie and mirrored the move, rubbing it in as she did so before leaning in for another sloppy, fun kiss. The girl giggled, the humor of it all making her giddy and excitable.
It was sticky, and her lips smacked against Santana's skin, but it was yummy, sweet, and not unpleasant at all. She licked Santana as she parted from her lips, kissing her way across her cheek, down her throat, leaving a wet trail behind her as she went, a streak of cherry-flavored goodness. Santana threaded her finger's into Brittany's hair, neither of them really caring how dirty they were being at the moment. They were kind of past that.
And it looked like, if they weren't past it yet, they were about to be in a few short moments, since Brittany was making her way back to the pie… and her intentions of where she was going to be putting soon it were quite clear.
Oh, Brittany knew what she was doing.
Santana had to admit this was actually… well, strange, but she wasn't thinking about the strangeness because it was still fucking hot. The way Brittany was looking up at her, devilish smile playing on her face… Santana felt heated and flushed to her very core.
Brittany was not the innocent little flower a lot of people seemed to think she was. It was easy to forget how much she got around because she was as sweet as… well, if you'd forgive the obvious pun, pie. But underneath that shell of childishness, there was definitely something far-from-angelic lurking under there.
It was still warm when Brittany finally put the pie in the one place she had been really planning to put it all day long - and it was an unusual sensation, feeling it there, as it slowly slid downwards…
Would it be strange to admit it was possibly the best new sensation she'd ever felt?
Santana was already wet as it were, her sex already coated, this was just adding to it. And then Brittany leaned down, bent on to her knees before her, and moved between Santana's legs. Her tongue snaked out, and… and Santana moaned, because she could do nothing else.
Her eyes closed shut, and everything was blocked out, yet all of it grew so much bigger. She could feel Brittany - who was now very happily, and loudly, going to town down there and adding her hand to the party while she was at it - and as strange as it was, as new and foreign yet somehow familiar, the added pie made this somehow far more maddening than it would be were it not there.
Santana bucked as Brittany's teeth ran along her sensitive areas, riding smoothly along the surface as she ate, never painful but always enough to make Santana's head swirl and her body involuntarily jump in just the right way. Fingers dug lightly into the skin of Brittany's scalp, tugging her closer, pulling her in, silently demanding in a way Santana's mouth couldn't. Santana couldn't speak, but she was making a whole lot of noise. Brittany was glad she had a big house and her neighbors probably couldn't hear them.
Truthfully, considering how mild-blowing it all was, it was over rather shortly… But they do say good things come in small packages. And that was most definitely a good thing, Santana thought.
Getting herself up from off the floor, Brittany, mouth still surrounded with all things good and sticky, came back up for a hard kiss, slowly working Santana down from her high until the girl was calm again.
Eventually, they parted, and Santana kind of began to remember herself. "So… what's the apple pie for?"
Brittany just grinned.
"That one's your dessert."