Brittana smut

Helping hand

Helping hand - berrylynn. On archive of our own. Originally Santana/Rachel. Daddy kink. Girl penis Santana. Praise kink.

There's a suspiciously large, brown thing at the end of the hallway and Santana can't stop staring at it in disgust. It doesn't look like it's moving but it's not dead either. Her only weapon is her bare hands in case it comes charging at her and she curses herself from taking out her razor blades from her hair before bed.

They seriously need to move out of this place.

It's almost 1 AM in the morning and Santana's reasoning for coming down to the basement of their apartment complex is as much of a mystery as what that thing is.

Seriously, does she need to call animal patrol or some shit?

Just as she contemplates going back to the loft to get a knife – just for protection - the faint sound of the washing machine rattling drifts out into the silent hallway and Santana quirks an eyebrow. Now she remembers.

Pierce's been sneaking out of the apartment at odd hours with the lame excuse of "doing the laundry" but Santana doesn't buy it. Who needs their tutus washed at exactly 10 PM on Thursday night?

Lady Hummel doesn't even bat a freakishly long eyelash anymore when the dancer skips dinner and particularly runs out the door with a handful of clothes a couple of times a week.

So, naturally, Santana needs to investigate.

Moving a little quicker than normally – she's not afraid - Santana reaches the closed door of the laundry room and opens it slowly, freezing at the scene that greets her.

Brittany, sitting on top of the washing machine, completely naked with two fingers deep inside her pussy.

Everything stops around her.

A deep, guttural moan escapes Santana's mouth before she can catch it, her cock instantly hardening in her shorts.

There was no denying it, Pierce got hot.

Living in the loft with no walls or doors meant the Latina caught parts of Pierce's naked body every once in a while. Her mile longs legs peeking out under a towel or a tanned, flat stomach and perky breasts hidden behind her underwear. Santana tried to not look but as Brittany grew more confident in her body, she just couldn't look away.

But fuck, the whole package was so much sexier.

Santana squeezes her dick through her shorts to find some relief but she knows it's not enough. She wants Brittany and she wants her now.

All smooth skin and impossibly long legs all on display only for her, pink nipples hard and pointy, waiting for somebody to suck on them. Her juices coating her fingers and sliding down her thighs and Santana licks her lips, wanting nothing more than to slurp it all up and not let it go to waste. She would make Brittany scream her name better than Sam ever could and show her what she's been missing.

Santana watches as Brittany plays with herself, her chest heaving with every breath while her fingers pump in and out of her wet pussy, whining when she can't seem to reach deep enough to find the spot she wants.

"I can help you with that."

Brittany freezes as her eyes snap up to lock with Santana and she chokes back a moan. Standing at the door with her hair all tussled, t-shirt askew on her shoulder and the visible tent in her pants, Santana looks like sex on legs. Brittany knows she should be embarrassed, being caught masturbating by one of her roommates so openly is not something she wants to experience but there's a hot, desperate ache building up between her legs and churning in her stomach that she can't ignore. She feels like if she doesn't get fucked by Santana in two minutes, she's going to combust.