Fic: Extracurricular Studies (NC-17)
Rachel is buzzing after her audition. It’s late - she should go home and prepare for the rest of her midterms, but she can’t concentrate. Her heart is pounding and her blood has been replaced with sparkling fairy dust and the sidewalks have turned into yellow brick roads and the entire sky is has shifted into a rainbow.
OK, not literally, but that’s how it feels.
She’s giddy and bubbly and about to burst.
So she does the obvious thing. She walks into the nearest liquor shop, grabs a large bottle of champagne and flashes her fake ID at the cashier. And then she follows her feet where they lead her - right to Cassandra July’s apartment building.
(She learned where Ms. July lives when she tried to bribe herself into her teacher’s good graces last fall with home deliveries of flowers and chocolates and The New York Times and a personal chef. Each gift only made Ms. July work her harder. Which is why, Rachel is now willing to admit to herself if no one else, she kept sending Ms. July more lavish gifts by the week.)
There is a doorman.
“Rachel Berry to see Cassandra July,” Rachel says, her chin raised confidently like she belongs there. Rachel Berry belongs everywhere. She’s going to be a star.
She soon finds herself in the hallway outside Cassie July’s apartment, holding up the bottle of champagne and staring at those amazing abs as Ms. July leans against the doorframe and tuts, “Well, well, well.”
Rachel looks up at Ms. July’s face, which is hard to do because oh those yoga pants have a low waist and the bra top that Ms. July’s wearing is a little less sports bra and a little more bikini than her usual. Her breasts may only be the size of teacups, but they are round and firm and the skin of her décolletage is so smooth and Rachel has an urge to take her index finger and press against the flesh just because.
Rachel clears her throat. “I just had my audition, Ms. July. I think it went well.”
Ms. July smiles and a delicious warmth flows through Rachel’s body. It’s so quite a new thing, seeing Ms. July smile sweet and honest. It’s radiant. More radiant than Kurt’s smile, even. It’s the kind of smile that makes a person want to dance. “When do you hear back?”
“Friday,” Rachel says.
Ms. July quirks an eyebrow. “You’re going to be a mess until then.”
Rachel laughs. “I don’t feel like a mess right now. I feel … ebullient.”
“Is that what the champagne is for?”
“The champagne is for you, Ms. July. As a thank you for all you’ve done for me.”
Ms. July’s mouth twists, like she’s trying to keep her smile from growing bigger. “Are you going to come plying me with gifts every time something good happens to you?”
Rachel doesn’t answer. She just blushes.
“Come in,” Ms. July says.
---
They’re sitting on the couch in Ms. July’s living room, facing each other, feet tucked beneath their hips. The bottle is nearly empty. Rachel might be a little tipsy. She’s not sure. She was already floating so high above ground before she took her first sip that it’s hard to tell if she’s floating even higher now.
Ms. July sips from her glass. Rachel can’t keep her eyes off the way her teacher’s lips gently press against the rim, the rippling of her neck as she swallows.
Rachel readjusts herself on the couch until their knees are almost touching. “Ms. July?”
Ms. July looks at Rachel with that honest smile again. Rachel wants to lick those teeth.
“Call me Cassie, Rachel.” She drains her champagne glass and sets it on the coffee table.
Rachel blushes. She keeps blushing today. She’s usually more put-together than this. But she can’t bring herself to care right now that she’s not put-together at all, that she’s completely unwinding. “You’re so beautiful, Ms. - Cassie.”
“Thank you, Rachel.”
“I wish I had a body like yours.”
Cassie winks. “Your body’s pretty nice.”
Rachel blushes again, casts her eyes downward, blinks shyly - and a bit coquettishly, if she’s being honest with herself. “I guess. But you’re right about my feet. And you’re so lithe, and flexible, and your stomach really is ten times better than Brody’s, and that ring in your belly button is the luckiest thing in the world because it gets to be that close to your abs all the time.” Rachel decides for certain that she’s probably a little drunk, but it doesn’t matter. Everything she’s saying is true. “Also, you have the nicest little breasts. They’re like teacups. I love teacups.”
Cassie laughs. It’s a beautiful sound - as beautiful as water in a brook, or windchimes, or Kurt snoring in Bruce’s arm, or Barbra’s vocal runs at the beginning of “Papa Can You Hear Me.”
Cassie rests a palm lightly against the back of Rachel’s wrist. “Rachel, you have a beautiful body.”
Rachel shrugs. “My ass is okay -”
“Your ass is better than okay.”
“- but I don’t have a dancer’s body like yours. I want to have your body.”
Cassie leans in close. Rachel can smell the champagne on her breath, see the crow’s feet forming at the outer corners of her eyes, the gentle curl of her pale eyelashes. “You can have my body. At least for the rest of the afternoon.”
Rachel doesn’t take the time to think. She just leans in toward those champagne-kissed lips and kisses them herself.
---
Rachel’s on her back, her blouse half-unbuttoned and her skirt hiked up almost to her hips, and she’s got her legs wrapped around Cassie’s hips because Cassie’s body is delicious and Rachel needs it, pressed against the throbbing heat between her legs. They’re kissing and kissing and Rachel can’t stop gently squeezing those perfect, teacup breasts through the skimpy black bikini top that’s covering them, because Cassie’s breasts - oh, they’re so soft and firm and how can breasts be both at the same time? But they are, and it’s one of nature’s glorious miracles, and Rachel can’t get enough. She rubs her thumb gently along the inner edge of the fabric, and Cassie makes these soft moans into Rachel’s mouth every time she does it, and it’s so so hot, and Rachel’s getting so so wet, and she squeezes her thighs tighter around Cassie’s hips and shifts her pelvis and starts rubbing unashamedly and Cassie lets out a loud groan and licks deeper into Rachel’s mouth and - God that’s hot.
“You’re so beautiful, Ms. July, so so beautiful, I love your body and your -”
Cassie tilts her hips and fucks more vehemently up against Rachel. Rachel’s clit throbs.
“Oh, Ms. July.”
“Already forgotten you can call me by my first name, huh?” Cassie says amusedly, spreading Rachel’s legs a little wider and oh that’s so much more and so much better, she can feel the heat of Cassie’s pelvis right against her clit and her swollen labia and her panties are soaked straight through and -
“Sorry, Ms. - Cassie,” Rachel gasps.
Cassie laughs lightly. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s see what else I can make you forget.” She kisses Rachel again, violently almost, their teeth clashing momentarily before they find their places and Cassie pulls Rachel’s tongue into her mouth and sucks it hard.
Rachel has never been kissed like this, like she’s a tasty little morsel that’s going to be swallowed up after it’s savored. She could kiss Cassie for hours. She’s going to kiss Cassie for hours.
And then Cassie’s hand is running up the inside of Rachel’s thigh, her fingers teasing against the elastic of Rachel’s leg opening, her thumb pressed against Rachel’s clit and Rachel presses back against it, can’t stop, feels as the sweet pressure builds and builds -
Oh goodness, Rachel means to say, but the words are garbled into moans because her mouth is still latched together with Cassie’s, and Rachel comes before she knows what’s happening, shaking and quivering against Cassie’s hand.
“Oh, Ms. July,” Rachel says. “That was -“
“Only the beginning.” Cassie kneels back on the couch, looking down at Rachel like a satisfied cat, and licks her damp thumb. “I’m not done with your virgin pussy yet. I’ve barely even started.”
Rachel frowns. “Well, I’m glad we’ll be continuing this dalliance, but - I’m not a virgin.”
Cassie leans forward, planting her hands on either side of Rachel’s shoulders to hover over her. “Honey, when I’m done with you, you’ll wonder why you ever called anything you’ve done before ‘sex.’”
---
They make out on the couch for a while. There’s a lot of kissing, and necking, and Rachel’s pretty sure there’s a bruise the size of a grapefruit next to her jugular vein, but she doesn’t care. Ever time Cassie sucks there, Rachel feels like she’s about to come again.
Tendrils of hair are starting to come loose from Cassie’s chignon, falling down and tickling Rachel’s skin. Rachel loves it. And she loves Cassie’s neck, as lean and muscular as the rest of her body. Rachel can feel Cassie’s heartbeat when she presses her lips against it. She drags the tip of her tongue up the side of Cassie’s neck to the lobe of her ear, starts sucking on it gently the way she sucked on Cassie’s tongue earlier, runs her fingers along the inner curve of Cassie’s left breast.
“You’re good at that,” Cassie says breathlessly.
Rachel hums with self-satisfaction. “It’s nice when you compliment me.”
“I only compliment you when you’ve earned it.”
“I know.” Rachel leans her head back against the couch cushion and studies Cassie’s face, rubbing her index finger back and forth just under the seam of Cassie’s bra top. “That’s why I like it. When I was in high school, my glee club teacher loved everything I did, even when I didn’t try that hard. So I came to NYADA thinking I could keep getting accolades without any effort on my part.”
Cassie smirks. “That was pretty obvious.”
A week ago, Rachel would have been offended; but now she finds herself giggling like the schoolgirl she no longer is. “I’m pretty incorrigible.” She cups her hands around Cassie’s breasts and gives them a playful squeeze.
“Yes,” Cassie says, dragging her hand down between the open buttons of Rachel’s blouse until it hits the clasp at the center of Rachel’s bra. “I think I should undo this.”
Rachel gasps. It's half the kind of breathy, excited gasp she’s been letting out again and again this afternoon; but the other half of it is shocked and disbelieving - like the gasp she let out the first time Cassie corrected her on her fouetté jeté.
Cassie looks at her quizzically. “Not okay? Do you want me to stop?”
Rachel feels her cheeks burning. “Oh, no, I don’t want to stop. It’s just, it’s just, um …”
Cassie watches her with interest, waits.
“Um, usually I undress myself. Finn was always terrible with buttons and bra clasps, so … I just got into the habit.”
Cassie’s mouth quirks into a smile. “Is Finn the ex-fiancé?”
Rachel nods.
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t marry him. Because then fucking you would be adultery, and I might have to pretend to have moral qualms about it.”
“But you’d still want to -” Rachel clears her throat. “You’d still want to have intercourse with me? Even if I wasn’t technically available?”
Cassie bursts out laughing.
“What? What did I say?” Rachel stammers. Everything has been so good this past week with Cassie, and even if it does make the blood flow to her clit sometimes when Cassie mocks her, still - she thought they’d gotten beyond that.
Cassie brushes the bangs back from Rachel’s forehead and kisses it softly. “You’re adorable, Rachel. Of course I wouldn’t want to have ‘intercourse’ with you. That’s what two Lutherans do when they’re begrudgingly fulfilling their marital duties. I would want to fuck you.” Cassie lowers her hand between Rachel’s legs and starts to stroke at the damp cotton there. “I’ve wanted to make you fall apart since you first walked into my dance studio with your sassy round ass and gave me your arrogant little sneer.”
It’s too much friction with the cotton between Rachel’s lips and Cassie’s fingers. “Oh fuck,” Rachel gasps, even though she never ever talks that way - though apparently, now, she does. “You can,” she mutters, the fire building in her pelvis and thighs. “Undress me, that is.”
Cassie undoes the latch of Rachel’s bra first, and then the rest of her blouse buttons. She leans forward and mouths at Rachel’s nipple, at the same time pushing the crotch of Rachel’s panties aside and sliding a finger inside her. There is no resistance, no friction. It feels like the closing of a circuit, the energy flowing from Cassie up through Rachel’s thighs and breasts and back into Cassie again, pulsing and alive.
“Oh, fuck,” Rachel says, canting her hips toward Cassie’s hand.
Cassie looks up from Rachel’s breast. “Always wanted to hear that uptight mouth of yours say something dirty, almost as much as I wanted your uptight legs to spread for me.”
Rachel flings one leg over the back of the couch to open her thighs wider. “I wanted to spread them for you. So -” She bites her lower lip in pleasure as Cassie fucks a second finger into her, but it can’t hold back the sharp whimper emanating from her throat. “Oh God, so fucking much.”
She kisses Cassie again, fucking her tongue into Cassie’s mouth the way that Cassie’s fucking her fingers into Rachel’s body. Everything is so much - her body feels like it’s spinning and floating away, and she holds onto Cassie tight, wants to take her with her as she drifts off into the sky.
“Touch me, Rachel,” Cassie whispers, lifting Rachel’s hand to her bikini-clad breast. “It’s just like dance. Follow my lead.”
Rachel swallows hard, whimpers through one last kiss before looking down to where her hand is - to exactly where her hand wants to be. She drags the strap of Cassie’s top down her shoulder until the fabric peels away to reveal a pert nipple haloed by a soft brown areola.
And then Rachel stares. It’s not like she’s never seen a breast before - duh - but Rachel is rendered as dumbfounded as Finn was the first time he saw hers. Heat shoots from where Cassie’s finger is plying her open, radiating up her spine and into her breasts and face and hands. She ducks her head forward and licks at Cassie’s nipple - shyly at first with fast, gentle flicks, but with each taste growing bolder until she’s laving Cassie’s breast with the flat of her tongue. The act looks like consuming, but she feels like she’s the one being consumed.
Cassie fucks into Rachel differently now, curving her fingers toward the front of her body and stroking gently at a spot that Rachel didn’t know existed and how did she not know that existed because she’s going to melt all over Cassie’s hand right now, it feels so good. “You’re so fucking wet, Schwimmer.”
Rachel cringes. That name.
Rachel should have enough pride to halt everything right now but, apparently, even her pride has limits. She can’t stop fucking Cassie’s hand, can’t stop pressing her lips against those gorgeous, soft breasts. “Don’t - God yes - call me - oh - Schwimmer.”
Cassie bites Rachel’s jaw. “Oh, hun, it’s a compliment.”
“How - fuck - is comparing me to - mmmm - David Schwimmer a-a-aaah compliment?”
Cassie crooks her fingers a little more, circles her thumb against Rachel’s wet and swollen clit. “Because of his nose,” she says. “I used to masturbate after almost every episode of Friends, thinking about what that nose would feel like pressing against my clit as he went down on me.”
“Oh God that’s hot.” Rachel is so close to losing it again. She can picture it in her head, Ms. July lying back on the couch, one hand down the front of her yoga pants, the other clutched around a breast, her head thrown back and those noises - noises close to what she’s making right now, but more reckless and out of control, until -
Oh God Rachel needs to put her hand there, too, wants to see her teacher lose it.
So she does.
She slips her hand under the stretchy waistband of Ms. July’s pants and reaches downward, stroking the soft fur damp with Cassie’s excitement, and -
Oh God, I did that to her.
Cassie lets out a guttural moan when Rachel parts her labia and runs her fingers over and around Cassie’s hard clit. “So close,” Cassie moans, working her own fingers faster and more frantically inside Rachel. “You have no idea what getting you off does to me.”
“I, oh, I think, mmm, yes, I’m starting to get an idea.”
“Full of yourself as always, you little brat.” Cassie bites Rachel’s bottom lip, then kisses her hard.
Rachel pulls away long enough to whisper, tauntingly, “You like it.”
“I do,” Cassie says, not looking the least bit defeated.
They kiss again, hard and desperate, and as Rachel rubs her fingers back and forth across Cassie’s labia, she thinks about David Schwimmer’s mouth there, and her own mouth: wonders what Cassie tastes like, wonders if tonguing the silk wetness of it is like tonguing Cassie’s mouth. She wonders what Cassie’s clit would feel like, firm and swollen and needy, against the tip of her nose.
“Ms. July,” Rachel says. “Do you think about … my nose that way? The way you think of - oh fuck yes please God - David Schwimmer’s?”
And that’s when Cassie starts to lose it. Her arms and thighs shake, and the kisses she plants against Rachel’s face and neck go sloppy. “God yes,” Cassie groans. “Every time you open that - oh - insolent mouth of yours. Every time you stick up your nose with all the arrogance of a -”
Rachel slides a finger into Cassie’s slick heat (so soft, she thinks, so smooth and strong, like tulip petals in spring), feels her own body start to quiver, feels the too-hot flush of impending orgasm bloom low between her hips.
“I get so irritated at you, Schwimmer, and - oh - so turned on and I - I -” Cassie’s panting now, her cheeks and collarbone flushed, her nipples taut, damp sweat beading at her hairline. “God, Schwimmer, I just want to shut you up by fucking my cunt all over your tongue.”
The orgasm hits Rachel like a tsunami - hard and overwhelming and too fast to be as terrifying as maybe it should be. It seizes her body in waves, and she can hear herself making all kinds of loud, unladylike noises, but she can’t stop them the way she always could with Finn or Brody or when she’s touching herself in her thin-walled room.
And Cassie’s there with her, gorgeous and animalistic, her cunt (but that’s an awful word, Rachel thinks, awful and no one should say it, except then why was it so hot when Cassie said it, so beautiful and I want to say it a million time now - cunt cunt cunt cunt cunt - I want her cunt fucking my fingers and my tongue again and again) seizing around Rachel’s finger, a gush of wetness flowing down Rachel’s hand. And her eyes - wide open and watching Rachel as she comes, the green shimmering like the leaves of an ash tree on a sparkling summer morning.
They ride the waves that hit them, over and over, until they’re weak-limbed and collapse against each other like storm-washed sailors on the shore.
“Oh my God,” Rachel says. “I’ve never come so hard in my life.”
Cassie rolls her weight off of Rachel, settling herself sideways on the couch. “That’s what I love about being a teacher. Pushing students to do better than they ever thought they could.”
Rachel takes Cassie’s hand in both of her own and kisses it. “Thank you.”
Cassie smiles at her gently, sincerely. It’s an odd moment of connection. Not anything as messy or possessive as Rachel’s experiences of being in love, but something perhaps even better.
Rachel lets go of Cassie’s hand. “But you’ve shown me that even when I think I’m at my best, I can always do better. If you have the time, I could definitely use additional guidance from you today.”
Cassie laughs. “Oh, Schwimmer. We’ve only just warmed up.”
OK, not literally, but that’s how it feels.
She’s giddy and bubbly and about to burst.
So she does the obvious thing. She walks into the nearest liquor shop, grabs a large bottle of champagne and flashes her fake ID at the cashier. And then she follows her feet where they lead her - right to Cassandra July’s apartment building.
(She learned where Ms. July lives when she tried to bribe herself into her teacher’s good graces last fall with home deliveries of flowers and chocolates and The New York Times and a personal chef. Each gift only made Ms. July work her harder. Which is why, Rachel is now willing to admit to herself if no one else, she kept sending Ms. July more lavish gifts by the week.)
There is a doorman.
“Rachel Berry to see Cassandra July,” Rachel says, her chin raised confidently like she belongs there. Rachel Berry belongs everywhere. She’s going to be a star.
She soon finds herself in the hallway outside Cassie July’s apartment, holding up the bottle of champagne and staring at those amazing abs as Ms. July leans against the doorframe and tuts, “Well, well, well.”
Rachel looks up at Ms. July’s face, which is hard to do because oh those yoga pants have a low waist and the bra top that Ms. July’s wearing is a little less sports bra and a little more bikini than her usual. Her breasts may only be the size of teacups, but they are round and firm and the skin of her décolletage is so smooth and Rachel has an urge to take her index finger and press against the flesh just because.
Rachel clears her throat. “I just had my audition, Ms. July. I think it went well.”
Ms. July smiles and a delicious warmth flows through Rachel’s body. It’s so quite a new thing, seeing Ms. July smile sweet and honest. It’s radiant. More radiant than Kurt’s smile, even. It’s the kind of smile that makes a person want to dance. “When do you hear back?”
“Friday,” Rachel says.
Ms. July quirks an eyebrow. “You’re going to be a mess until then.”
Rachel laughs. “I don’t feel like a mess right now. I feel … ebullient.”
“Is that what the champagne is for?”
“The champagne is for you, Ms. July. As a thank you for all you’ve done for me.”
Ms. July’s mouth twists, like she’s trying to keep her smile from growing bigger. “Are you going to come plying me with gifts every time something good happens to you?”
Rachel doesn’t answer. She just blushes.
“Come in,” Ms. July says.
---
They’re sitting on the couch in Ms. July’s living room, facing each other, feet tucked beneath their hips. The bottle is nearly empty. Rachel might be a little tipsy. She’s not sure. She was already floating so high above ground before she took her first sip that it’s hard to tell if she’s floating even higher now.
Ms. July sips from her glass. Rachel can’t keep her eyes off the way her teacher’s lips gently press against the rim, the rippling of her neck as she swallows.
Rachel readjusts herself on the couch until their knees are almost touching. “Ms. July?”
Ms. July looks at Rachel with that honest smile again. Rachel wants to lick those teeth.
“Call me Cassie, Rachel.” She drains her champagne glass and sets it on the coffee table.
Rachel blushes. She keeps blushing today. She’s usually more put-together than this. But she can’t bring herself to care right now that she’s not put-together at all, that she’s completely unwinding. “You’re so beautiful, Ms. - Cassie.”
“Thank you, Rachel.”
“I wish I had a body like yours.”
Cassie winks. “Your body’s pretty nice.”
Rachel blushes again, casts her eyes downward, blinks shyly - and a bit coquettishly, if she’s being honest with herself. “I guess. But you’re right about my feet. And you’re so lithe, and flexible, and your stomach really is ten times better than Brody’s, and that ring in your belly button is the luckiest thing in the world because it gets to be that close to your abs all the time.” Rachel decides for certain that she’s probably a little drunk, but it doesn’t matter. Everything she’s saying is true. “Also, you have the nicest little breasts. They’re like teacups. I love teacups.”
Cassie laughs. It’s a beautiful sound - as beautiful as water in a brook, or windchimes, or Kurt snoring in Bruce’s arm, or Barbra’s vocal runs at the beginning of “Papa Can You Hear Me.”
Cassie rests a palm lightly against the back of Rachel’s wrist. “Rachel, you have a beautiful body.”
Rachel shrugs. “My ass is okay -”
“Your ass is better than okay.”
“- but I don’t have a dancer’s body like yours. I want to have your body.”
Cassie leans in close. Rachel can smell the champagne on her breath, see the crow’s feet forming at the outer corners of her eyes, the gentle curl of her pale eyelashes. “You can have my body. At least for the rest of the afternoon.”
Rachel doesn’t take the time to think. She just leans in toward those champagne-kissed lips and kisses them herself.
---
Rachel’s on her back, her blouse half-unbuttoned and her skirt hiked up almost to her hips, and she’s got her legs wrapped around Cassie’s hips because Cassie’s body is delicious and Rachel needs it, pressed against the throbbing heat between her legs. They’re kissing and kissing and Rachel can’t stop gently squeezing those perfect, teacup breasts through the skimpy black bikini top that’s covering them, because Cassie’s breasts - oh, they’re so soft and firm and how can breasts be both at the same time? But they are, and it’s one of nature’s glorious miracles, and Rachel can’t get enough. She rubs her thumb gently along the inner edge of the fabric, and Cassie makes these soft moans into Rachel’s mouth every time she does it, and it’s so so hot, and Rachel’s getting so so wet, and she squeezes her thighs tighter around Cassie’s hips and shifts her pelvis and starts rubbing unashamedly and Cassie lets out a loud groan and licks deeper into Rachel’s mouth and - God that’s hot.
“You’re so beautiful, Ms. July, so so beautiful, I love your body and your -”
Cassie tilts her hips and fucks more vehemently up against Rachel. Rachel’s clit throbs.
“Oh, Ms. July.”
“Already forgotten you can call me by my first name, huh?” Cassie says amusedly, spreading Rachel’s legs a little wider and oh that’s so much more and so much better, she can feel the heat of Cassie’s pelvis right against her clit and her swollen labia and her panties are soaked straight through and -
“Sorry, Ms. - Cassie,” Rachel gasps.
Cassie laughs lightly. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s see what else I can make you forget.” She kisses Rachel again, violently almost, their teeth clashing momentarily before they find their places and Cassie pulls Rachel’s tongue into her mouth and sucks it hard.
Rachel has never been kissed like this, like she’s a tasty little morsel that’s going to be swallowed up after it’s savored. She could kiss Cassie for hours. She’s going to kiss Cassie for hours.
And then Cassie’s hand is running up the inside of Rachel’s thigh, her fingers teasing against the elastic of Rachel’s leg opening, her thumb pressed against Rachel’s clit and Rachel presses back against it, can’t stop, feels as the sweet pressure builds and builds -
Oh goodness, Rachel means to say, but the words are garbled into moans because her mouth is still latched together with Cassie’s, and Rachel comes before she knows what’s happening, shaking and quivering against Cassie’s hand.
“Oh, Ms. July,” Rachel says. “That was -“
“Only the beginning.” Cassie kneels back on the couch, looking down at Rachel like a satisfied cat, and licks her damp thumb. “I’m not done with your virgin pussy yet. I’ve barely even started.”
Rachel frowns. “Well, I’m glad we’ll be continuing this dalliance, but - I’m not a virgin.”
Cassie leans forward, planting her hands on either side of Rachel’s shoulders to hover over her. “Honey, when I’m done with you, you’ll wonder why you ever called anything you’ve done before ‘sex.’”
---
They make out on the couch for a while. There’s a lot of kissing, and necking, and Rachel’s pretty sure there’s a bruise the size of a grapefruit next to her jugular vein, but she doesn’t care. Ever time Cassie sucks there, Rachel feels like she’s about to come again.
Tendrils of hair are starting to come loose from Cassie’s chignon, falling down and tickling Rachel’s skin. Rachel loves it. And she loves Cassie’s neck, as lean and muscular as the rest of her body. Rachel can feel Cassie’s heartbeat when she presses her lips against it. She drags the tip of her tongue up the side of Cassie’s neck to the lobe of her ear, starts sucking on it gently the way she sucked on Cassie’s tongue earlier, runs her fingers along the inner curve of Cassie’s left breast.
“You’re good at that,” Cassie says breathlessly.
Rachel hums with self-satisfaction. “It’s nice when you compliment me.”
“I only compliment you when you’ve earned it.”
“I know.” Rachel leans her head back against the couch cushion and studies Cassie’s face, rubbing her index finger back and forth just under the seam of Cassie’s bra top. “That’s why I like it. When I was in high school, my glee club teacher loved everything I did, even when I didn’t try that hard. So I came to NYADA thinking I could keep getting accolades without any effort on my part.”
Cassie smirks. “That was pretty obvious.”
A week ago, Rachel would have been offended; but now she finds herself giggling like the schoolgirl she no longer is. “I’m pretty incorrigible.” She cups her hands around Cassie’s breasts and gives them a playful squeeze.
“Yes,” Cassie says, dragging her hand down between the open buttons of Rachel’s blouse until it hits the clasp at the center of Rachel’s bra. “I think I should undo this.”
Rachel gasps. It's half the kind of breathy, excited gasp she’s been letting out again and again this afternoon; but the other half of it is shocked and disbelieving - like the gasp she let out the first time Cassie corrected her on her fouetté jeté.
Cassie looks at her quizzically. “Not okay? Do you want me to stop?”
Rachel feels her cheeks burning. “Oh, no, I don’t want to stop. It’s just, it’s just, um …”
Cassie watches her with interest, waits.
“Um, usually I undress myself. Finn was always terrible with buttons and bra clasps, so … I just got into the habit.”
Cassie’s mouth quirks into a smile. “Is Finn the ex-fiancé?”
Rachel nods.
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t marry him. Because then fucking you would be adultery, and I might have to pretend to have moral qualms about it.”
“But you’d still want to -” Rachel clears her throat. “You’d still want to have intercourse with me? Even if I wasn’t technically available?”
Cassie bursts out laughing.
“What? What did I say?” Rachel stammers. Everything has been so good this past week with Cassie, and even if it does make the blood flow to her clit sometimes when Cassie mocks her, still - she thought they’d gotten beyond that.
Cassie brushes the bangs back from Rachel’s forehead and kisses it softly. “You’re adorable, Rachel. Of course I wouldn’t want to have ‘intercourse’ with you. That’s what two Lutherans do when they’re begrudgingly fulfilling their marital duties. I would want to fuck you.” Cassie lowers her hand between Rachel’s legs and starts to stroke at the damp cotton there. “I’ve wanted to make you fall apart since you first walked into my dance studio with your sassy round ass and gave me your arrogant little sneer.”
It’s too much friction with the cotton between Rachel’s lips and Cassie’s fingers. “Oh fuck,” Rachel gasps, even though she never ever talks that way - though apparently, now, she does. “You can,” she mutters, the fire building in her pelvis and thighs. “Undress me, that is.”
Cassie undoes the latch of Rachel’s bra first, and then the rest of her blouse buttons. She leans forward and mouths at Rachel’s nipple, at the same time pushing the crotch of Rachel’s panties aside and sliding a finger inside her. There is no resistance, no friction. It feels like the closing of a circuit, the energy flowing from Cassie up through Rachel’s thighs and breasts and back into Cassie again, pulsing and alive.
“Oh, fuck,” Rachel says, canting her hips toward Cassie’s hand.
Cassie looks up from Rachel’s breast. “Always wanted to hear that uptight mouth of yours say something dirty, almost as much as I wanted your uptight legs to spread for me.”
Rachel flings one leg over the back of the couch to open her thighs wider. “I wanted to spread them for you. So -” She bites her lower lip in pleasure as Cassie fucks a second finger into her, but it can’t hold back the sharp whimper emanating from her throat. “Oh God, so fucking much.”
She kisses Cassie again, fucking her tongue into Cassie’s mouth the way that Cassie’s fucking her fingers into Rachel’s body. Everything is so much - her body feels like it’s spinning and floating away, and she holds onto Cassie tight, wants to take her with her as she drifts off into the sky.
“Touch me, Rachel,” Cassie whispers, lifting Rachel’s hand to her bikini-clad breast. “It’s just like dance. Follow my lead.”
Rachel swallows hard, whimpers through one last kiss before looking down to where her hand is - to exactly where her hand wants to be. She drags the strap of Cassie’s top down her shoulder until the fabric peels away to reveal a pert nipple haloed by a soft brown areola.
And then Rachel stares. It’s not like she’s never seen a breast before - duh - but Rachel is rendered as dumbfounded as Finn was the first time he saw hers. Heat shoots from where Cassie’s finger is plying her open, radiating up her spine and into her breasts and face and hands. She ducks her head forward and licks at Cassie’s nipple - shyly at first with fast, gentle flicks, but with each taste growing bolder until she’s laving Cassie’s breast with the flat of her tongue. The act looks like consuming, but she feels like she’s the one being consumed.
Cassie fucks into Rachel differently now, curving her fingers toward the front of her body and stroking gently at a spot that Rachel didn’t know existed and how did she not know that existed because she’s going to melt all over Cassie’s hand right now, it feels so good. “You’re so fucking wet, Schwimmer.”
Rachel cringes. That name.
Rachel should have enough pride to halt everything right now but, apparently, even her pride has limits. She can’t stop fucking Cassie’s hand, can’t stop pressing her lips against those gorgeous, soft breasts. “Don’t - God yes - call me - oh - Schwimmer.”
Cassie bites Rachel’s jaw. “Oh, hun, it’s a compliment.”
“How - fuck - is comparing me to - mmmm - David Schwimmer a-a-aaah compliment?”
Cassie crooks her fingers a little more, circles her thumb against Rachel’s wet and swollen clit. “Because of his nose,” she says. “I used to masturbate after almost every episode of Friends, thinking about what that nose would feel like pressing against my clit as he went down on me.”
“Oh God that’s hot.” Rachel is so close to losing it again. She can picture it in her head, Ms. July lying back on the couch, one hand down the front of her yoga pants, the other clutched around a breast, her head thrown back and those noises - noises close to what she’s making right now, but more reckless and out of control, until -
Oh God Rachel needs to put her hand there, too, wants to see her teacher lose it.
So she does.
She slips her hand under the stretchy waistband of Ms. July’s pants and reaches downward, stroking the soft fur damp with Cassie’s excitement, and -
Oh God, I did that to her.
Cassie lets out a guttural moan when Rachel parts her labia and runs her fingers over and around Cassie’s hard clit. “So close,” Cassie moans, working her own fingers faster and more frantically inside Rachel. “You have no idea what getting you off does to me.”
“I, oh, I think, mmm, yes, I’m starting to get an idea.”
“Full of yourself as always, you little brat.” Cassie bites Rachel’s bottom lip, then kisses her hard.
Rachel pulls away long enough to whisper, tauntingly, “You like it.”
“I do,” Cassie says, not looking the least bit defeated.
They kiss again, hard and desperate, and as Rachel rubs her fingers back and forth across Cassie’s labia, she thinks about David Schwimmer’s mouth there, and her own mouth: wonders what Cassie tastes like, wonders if tonguing the silk wetness of it is like tonguing Cassie’s mouth. She wonders what Cassie’s clit would feel like, firm and swollen and needy, against the tip of her nose.
“Ms. July,” Rachel says. “Do you think about … my nose that way? The way you think of - oh fuck yes please God - David Schwimmer’s?”
And that’s when Cassie starts to lose it. Her arms and thighs shake, and the kisses she plants against Rachel’s face and neck go sloppy. “God yes,” Cassie groans. “Every time you open that - oh - insolent mouth of yours. Every time you stick up your nose with all the arrogance of a -”
Rachel slides a finger into Cassie’s slick heat (so soft, she thinks, so smooth and strong, like tulip petals in spring), feels her own body start to quiver, feels the too-hot flush of impending orgasm bloom low between her hips.
“I get so irritated at you, Schwimmer, and - oh - so turned on and I - I -” Cassie’s panting now, her cheeks and collarbone flushed, her nipples taut, damp sweat beading at her hairline. “God, Schwimmer, I just want to shut you up by fucking my cunt all over your tongue.”
The orgasm hits Rachel like a tsunami - hard and overwhelming and too fast to be as terrifying as maybe it should be. It seizes her body in waves, and she can hear herself making all kinds of loud, unladylike noises, but she can’t stop them the way she always could with Finn or Brody or when she’s touching herself in her thin-walled room.
And Cassie’s there with her, gorgeous and animalistic, her cunt (but that’s an awful word, Rachel thinks, awful and no one should say it, except then why was it so hot when Cassie said it, so beautiful and I want to say it a million time now - cunt cunt cunt cunt cunt - I want her cunt fucking my fingers and my tongue again and again) seizing around Rachel’s finger, a gush of wetness flowing down Rachel’s hand. And her eyes - wide open and watching Rachel as she comes, the green shimmering like the leaves of an ash tree on a sparkling summer morning.
They ride the waves that hit them, over and over, until they’re weak-limbed and collapse against each other like storm-washed sailors on the shore.
“Oh my God,” Rachel says. “I’ve never come so hard in my life.”
Cassie rolls her weight off of Rachel, settling herself sideways on the couch. “That’s what I love about being a teacher. Pushing students to do better than they ever thought they could.”
Rachel takes Cassie’s hand in both of her own and kisses it. “Thank you.”
Cassie smiles at her gently, sincerely. It’s an odd moment of connection. Not anything as messy or possessive as Rachel’s experiences of being in love, but something perhaps even better.
Rachel lets go of Cassie’s hand. “But you’ve shown me that even when I think I’m at my best, I can always do better. If you have the time, I could definitely use additional guidance from you today.”
Cassie laughs. “Oh, Schwimmer. We’ve only just warmed up.”