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Close our eyes (feel our way through)

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Santana can feel the solid weight of Quinn all along her back. The slight curve of Quinn's belly fits into the hollow of her lower back, undulating against her skin with each rock of Quinn's hips. She can feel the softness of Quinn's breasts pressed against her shoulder blades and when Quinn changes the angle, uses the hands burning brands on Santana's hips to rise up, Santana can feel her nipples scraping lines on her back with each rhythmic thrust. Santana thinks the ghost of those nipples will haunt her for years to come, distracting her whenever something touches her there, making her shiver with need.

She welcomes it, wants it, desires to never forget a single moment of this night, of how this feels. Her stomach twists at the pleasure of it, her body tightening around the object in her pussy, the delicious sensation becoming acute, pushing her towards her peak. She groans. Quinn pulls back but Santana barely has time to mourn the loss of that fullness before Quinn slams back into her, the hard length of the dildo unforgiving as it stretches her. Santana loves it.

She had sucked on that cock earlier, mouth stretched hungrily and just this side of painfully around the purple silicone, tongue pressing into the bumps and veins of it even though she knew Quinn couldn't feel it. Her hand had wrapped around the base of it, held it steady as she worked. Quinn had moaned at the sight of her on her knees, dripping saliva, lust blown eyes looking up at her. She had moaned more when Santana pushed the end of the dildo tighter against her mons and raised her hand to stroke Quinn's pussy, to slide first one finger inside her and then a second, thumb resting on her clit below the harness. The lower edge of the dildo's base had pushed against the back of Santana's hand and she could feel the change in pressure as she drew her mouth back along its length before pressing forward again, enveloping it. She moved her hand in time, drawing her fingers out of Quinn's cunt slowly as she pulled back her head before slamming them back in, making Quinn keen at the unexpected speed of it, as she swallowed the cock a little too quickly, choking slightly and having to pause, breathing deeply through her nose, assaulting her senses with the smell of Quinn's arousal and the artificial sweetness of the silicone.

While she had paused she looked up at Quinn, noted the flush on her chest, on her face, so familiar and desired but made strange by the toy between them. Inside Quinn her fingers had scissored and moved, outside the folds of her body her thumb had rubbed circles round Quinn's clit, maintaining her pleasure as Santana had started to move her head.

One of Quinn's hands move to Santana's shoulder, pushing her down so that she is no longer on her hands and knees but instead her head hangs down, resting against her folded arms on the mattress below them. The new angle is sharper, the dildo hitting deeper, more intensely. Santana's hair fans out around her on the bed, cutting out the rest of the room so that the only thing she can see is the space below her body. She can see her breasts, falling forward towards her head, and beyond them her stomach, her thighs, shiny with sweat and trembling with the pleasure of it all. She can see Quinn's thighs between hers, the skin at the top glistening with her juices, the harness a dark band framing the skin, and, oh God, Santana can see the dildo sliding into her pussy. She can see the sheen of her own arousal on the silicone, could smell it, see the flash of purple, a shocking contrast to the skin of their bodies.

She's glad Quinn pushed her forward. She isn't sure she is able to hold herself up any more. She's so close, her body feels like it's a writhing mass of need, of want, of pleasure. She isn't able to stop the instinctual roll of her hips, surging back to meet Quinn's thrusts, her flesh quivering with the impact. She lets her eyes close, focuses on the sensations of her body as it falls apart, of her hand snaking its way down to her mound, stroking against it. She can feel the dildo slip wetly against the knuckles of her fingers as they find and then circle her clit. She can hear Quinn's breathy moans, feel her hands using her hips as leverage to thrust. She can hear her own aborted noises. Its been building but her climax shocks her, rushes over her, pulling her down, leaving her disorientated and floating on the tide of it. Quinn's movements slow and she collapses forward to drape over Santana's back, pressing a kiss into the damp skin between her shoulders and holding Santana as she comes back to herself.