A/N: I can't possibly read over this at 4:47am. I'm absolutely exhausted! So, mistakes are mine; based on this photo: 25[.]media[.]tumblr[.]com/tumblr_l33w62Pp6g1qzoj1jo1_500[.]jpg along with Rachel's outfit in Britney/Brittany (or is it Brittany/Britney? oh well), and Pervy's enabling. I dedicate this to Aly (lellolamb) and PC because PC is always encouraging me to bring forth more porn into this wonderful world of Faberry. Jesus, I hope y'all enjoy because I don't think I can stay awake much longer!

P.S. possible second chapter. Key word: POSSIBLE. (and don't forget to review!)

"Don't be gentle," her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Speak up," Quinn bellowed, quickly bringing her lips to the brunette's ear, "I can't hear you if you don't use your talented voice, Rachel," she continued huskily, making the girl whimper with lust. The blonde was still holding her roughly against her. Her long fingers tangled in chocolate locks, balled in a fist and pulling back without mercy; her other hand grasping the material of the white button down, which was quite literally all buttoned down; her lips teasingly hovering over a burning red earlobe, slowly moving down the other girl's neck, making sure her breath was scorching against her skin. Quinn felt the brunette shudder under her touch. A smirk appeared on the side of her mouth.


Rachel thought she'd get away wearing something like this to school? Laughable, if she really thought about it. With a hand on her locker door, Quinn was about ready to slam it shut and walk to class, when something caught her eye. It was as if her whole world had all of a sudden switched into slow motion. Two legs, clad in knee-highs and school-girl shoes turned the corner of the hall. Automatically, the blonde's stomach fell into a pool of lava, which then started to bubble throughout her body as the rest of those legs turned into a walking human being. Creamy tanned thighs followed above the knees then hitting pleats of a dark skirt, far too short, if anyone asked Quinn. The brim of the ridiculously small piece of material hugged her hips just right. By now, she knew her face was absolutely beet red, but she couldn't help her eyes from rolling over the other girl's flat stomach; her muscles contracting and expanding with every breath as she strutted down the hall. The white button down shirt was pulled into a knot right at her sternum, with just two buttons done up above it, with a small cardigan covering everything else. Full lips, glossed to perfection were slightly parted, with a vision of her pink tongue peeking at the end of a cocky smirk. Quinn scoffed, but she scoffed to keep from moaning and her eyes landed on chocolate orbs which were staring intently at her. Her long lashes batted in painfully slow motion, gaze locked on the blonde. Closer and closer, the braids on her chest bounced along with her breasts, the tapping of her shoes grew louder, and Quinn could beg and plead with herself all she wanted, but her stare was not leaving the diva. And it was a wink from the gold star that did it for Quinn. In that moment, she came to the conclusion that by the end of the day, she'd have Rachel sprawled on a teacher's desk, asking to come, begging release.

It wasn't too hard to get Rachel alone. Playing damsel in distress to the diva was a piece of cake. A small note scribbled in desperate handwriting from the blonde and placed into Rachel's locker pretty much did the trick. "Private vocal lessons this lunch period? Meet me in room 214. Q.". She kind of wished she'd been there to see the look of confusion and delight on the face of the shorter girl upon reading the note, but Quinn had to secure the room she'd picked for the deed. Today was bloody perfect. It was an early release date and half the teachers had gone home at the ring of the lunch bell, since tomorrow was a holiday and the school wouldn't be open to anyone. The hall was deserted and the sight of tumbleweed wouldn't have even startle her at this point. Using the key she'd blackmailed the Jew-Fro for, she unlocked the empty classroom. Desks were in their places and to her surprise, the teacher's desk was swiped clean. Perfect.

Finally hearing clicking of a pair of shoes across the hall, Quinn quickly lowered the blinds of the door window and walked back to the teacher's desk, leaning nonchalantly. The door opened hesitantly and a small knock rang out.

"Quinn?" she spoke softly, with a hint of fear, "I'd like to know if entering this classroom is going to result me in a change of clothes."

The blonde snorted. Oh, the diva's choice of words was nothing short of ironic. Upon hearing the snort, the short girl retaliated, "Quinn, I am serious. I didn't bring a change of clothing today. I knew I should have. I should always be prepa-"

The blonde interrupted Rachel by opening the door and showing her she had no ammunition. "Can you stop talking and get in here?" Quinn rolled her eyes. Her talking was going to be an issue. For a second, the taller girl wished Rachel's outfit brought a tie to gag her with. She just had to make do with what she had; and what she had was power.

Rachel walked in timidly, hiding her midriff with her hands like she hadn't been walking around flaunting it like a prized trophy all over the school. Her brown eyes skimmed the room. Everything was so alone and empty. It felt like an abandoned classroom, but by the looks of it, it was a freshman English class. The works of Shakespeare lined the walls, different art-type projects with summaries and theories on Romeo and Juliet. She did not miss freshman year at all. The clicking of the door and lock snapped Rachel back to reality. Her eyes narrowed at the cheerleader, "Why did you ask me to meet you here when there's a perfectly good piano in the choir room?"

The blonde shrugged, "the choir room isn't safe."

"Not safe?" Rachel questioned, suddenly feeling a bit claustrophobic trapped in the cheerio's stare. A simple shake of the head was all Quinn did, walking predatorily toward the diva. Finally entering the shorter girl's personal space, the blonde heard an audible gulp from her mouth and chuckled, "no, it's not," softly running her fingers down the brunette's braid.

Rachel looked at her through big doe eyes, not knowing how to interpret what was going on. Her chest began to heave emphatically, her panties just beginning to soak at Quinn's fingers now running over the opening of her blouse. Panic began to rise as she asked, "may I ask why?"

Quinn's eyebrow shot up in its infamous way, a smile threatening to spill at the girl's bravery. She was trying to question the blonde's motives? Well, quite frankly, she should. It's obvious by now that Quinn didn't have vocal lessons in mind, unless they were meant to learn how to moan quietly so as to not get caught having sex in school. She decided to change the subject, "you know," she began, her left fingers curling beneath her skirt, "this skirt is far too short to be sporting around this school."

Rachel's eyes lowered to follow the blonde's hand. For a second, her lower lip disappeared between her teeth. She was struggling to keep her breathing under control with the cheerleader now almost fully up against her. Millions of theories of why she could possibly want this ran through her head but nothing made sense while the blonde's lips were mere inches from hers. "Short?" she breathed. Quinn's fingertips grazed the shorter girl's thigh just beneath her skirt. Her hazel eyes met chocolate orbs as she opened her mouth to speak, "you could get in a lot of trouble for this."

Another audible gulp from the shorter girl and Quinn smiled. Rachel's lips parted, and closed, and parted again. Her eyes fluttered shut before whispering, "am I in trouble?" Quinn's stomach dropped. Rachel was playing the game. Her teeth sunk deep into the inside of her bottom lip and sighed right into the brunette's ear, "so much trouble."

Rachel saw red. Or at least she thought that would be the correct way to describe what happened next. A brief sucking in of air and their lips were connected in a hot and messy kiss. The diva's hands traveled up to Quinn's neck, holding tightly and pulling the cheerleader closer. Quinn's nails were digging up the diva's left thigh and her other hand tightly gripping the small of her back. Rachel was the first to break the kiss, panting and barely opening her eyes, "what are you going to do to me?"

Quinn's knees nearly buckled. The diva being at her submission cause a rush of blood to her center. A row of open mouth kisses lined Rachel's jaw until the blonde reached her ear. Her hand tangled into her hair and pulled her head back whispering roughly, "get on the desk," then biting her earlobe teasingly, "I want to teach you a lesson," she demanded.

Her arms dropped from the shorter girl, who's eyes were still closed and her mouth still lingering open. The cheerleader didn't move a muscle and expected Rachel to do as she was told. The diva's eyes slowly opened and she was back on earth. She turned on her heel cautiously, her fingers lightly pulling at her skirt as she made her way to the desk and leaned against it facing the blonde. "On the desk, I said," Quinn voiced firmly. Rachel nodded and used her arms to pull herself onto the surface, pushing her body back and begun to swing her legs.

She's so short. The blonde smiled internally; she found it endearing, though it was fun as hell to poke fun at. She walked forward and paused in front of the diva. Like the red sea, her legs parted slowly, her gaze never leaving the cheerleader. Her brow rose again at her actions, but decided to leave it as it was. Rachel was either getting desperate or she was playing the game. Either way, Quinn was enjoying it and wasn't about to call attention to a minor detail. However, she stepped in between the pair of thighs and tip toed her fingers over the soft skin. Rachel tilted her head and moved forward to catch her lips, but Quinn pulled back. "No."

The diva huffed in protest. Maybe she was getting desperate, but the cheerleader wasn't having it. She shook her head lightly, a devious smile tugging at the edge of her lips. "You're in trouble, remember? You're not doing anything unless I tell you to, understood?"

Doe-eyed again, she nodded steadily. "What…" her voice trailed off as Quinn's hand weaved into her hair. The blonde's lips were hovering above hers and they breathed each other's breath for a few seconds before she continued, "what would you like me to do?"

Quinn's tongue wet her own lips and they were close enough so that it just barely grazed the diva's parted set. The cheerleader felt a small gasp from Rachel and, again, she smiled internally. A growing need to see the other girl squirm with pleasure and desire spurred across Quinn's body. She wanted her begging for more. She wanted her on the verge of tears. She wanted her overwhelmed and lusting for her touch. Quinn's hand fell from the chocolate locks and a finger landed on the knot of material just above the diva's sternum.

"Untie this," she growled. Rachel's hands reached the front of her shirt just fast enough to catch a touch from Quinn's finger. The cheerleader quickly dropped her hands to the desk and supported herself mere inches from the diva. Brown eyes looked intently as she went to work on untying the material. "Done," was barely the whisper the blonde could hear, even within their distance. Quinn just shook her head again. A slender finger curled beneath the clasp at the front of her bra-I can't believe she wore this kind; this is far too easy-and pulled the smaller girl closer, their mouths just about touching, "you forgot this."

Rachel's chest heaved as her hands worked toward pulling apart the clasp of her bra without shaking, and she was failing miserably. Quinn's eyes bore into the brunette. She picked up the diva's small wrist and brought her hand to her mouth. The diva's eyes fluttered shut as she felt the blonde's lips brush against her fingertips. "Now take these," she licked the tips of the middle and ring finger before nipping at them softly, surely almost knocking Rachel on her ass, "and touch yourself."

"D-do what?" The look on Rachel's face was priceless. It was as if she hadn't heard the blonde correctly. Quinn didn't falter, "did I stutter? I said 'touch yourself', Rachel." She guided the hand down and up her skirt until a soft shudder let her know she'd reached her destination, "don't sell yourself short, I know your listening skills as just as keen as your singing."

The cheerleader watched as the other girl began to work herself up. Her breathing slowed and eyes fluttered as she ran circles over her own clit. The imagery was extremely erotic. Quinn could feel her own walls twitch and underwear dampen. Soon, the diva's breathing elevated; her chest begun to heave and her hand was frantic. The cheerio couldn't keep her eyes off the swell of Rachel's breasts. Her tongue involuntarily licked over her lips and before she knew it, her face was hovering above the elated chest. She removed her hands from the edge of the desk to crawl beneath the cotton material, exposing more of Rachel Berry. Quinn's fingertips trickled over the diva's sides, her thumbs just barely grazing the already erect nipples. The blonde was salivating. A craving for Rachel's flesh overtook her and nearly caused her knees to give out. She rolled both nipples between her fingers earning a sharp moan from the diva. She watched as Rachel's hips bucked forward, her wrist working harder between 'oh my god's. The blonde gripped the smaller girl and dipped her head to capture a nub amidst her teeth. She pulled teasingly, flicking it with her tongue. Rachel's leg kicked out abruptly, and she suddenly remembered the diva was still wearing her underwear.

Quinn's lips trailed open mouthed kisses up Rachel's surging chest, elongated neck and up to her ear, "let me help you with that." She brought her arms underneath the short skirt and forcefully yanked down the now ruined panties. "Get to work. No fingers inside."

Rachel didn't hesitate. Her hand immediately regained pace atop her clit and a low moan escaped her lips. The cheerleader sucked in the other girl's earlobe, "the only fingers inside you will be mine," eliciting another moan and causing her head to lull back. Quinn resumed her activities on the diva's other nipple, giving it all the attention it needed. A groan in anticipation reverberated to the blonde's ear; she knew Rachel was close. She brought her mouth to the center of her sporadic chest and right as the diva took her last breath-so to speak-Quinn sunk her teeth into the smaller girl's sternum and growled almost inhumanly, "come for me, Rachel."

The diva drew out a piercing cry before tensing up completely; her mouth agape; her thighs rigid, but twitching every now and then; her sex swollen and dripping; her fingers pressed hard against her clit. It was definitely a sight to see. The cheerio was sure she could come on the spot watching Rachel come undone before her eyes. It was fucking beautiful. It was damn near poetic.

Finally, the diva fell limply in Quinn's arms. After a few moments of regaining consciousness, Rachel began to fidget away from the blonde's strong grip, but it wasn't over, "where do you think you're going?"

"I-I wasn't-" she shook her head, still disoriented by her own orgasm.

"Lean back," Quinn spoke adamantly. Rachel followed directions, pushing herself back onto the desk. The blonde reclined, towering over her. She brought their lips together for a soft kiss, which the diva wanted to continue desperately, but she refused. Quinn bee lined chaste kisses down the smaller girl's neck and chest and finally to her navel. Her tongue teasingly circled it evoking a groan from Rachel. Quinn smiled and spoke, "spread 'em."

Her knees parted wide and the cheerleader could smell her sex. Her mouth watered again. It was almost second nature, the desire to taste Rachel, to make her quiver in ecstasy. Alas, she couldn't taste her just yet. That had to be earned. Her head rose up to Rachel's and she hovered her lips over the brunette's, "tell me, Rachel," she paused, letting her tongue flash over the parted lips in front of her, "what do you want?"

A whimper left her small body. She hesitated, thinking and rethinking of what to say in return. Rachel's brows knitted and her eyes fluttered shut. She began to stutter, "I-I want-"

Quinn's hand shot to cup the diva roughly, causing her to gasp loudly. "Just-" she continued, but her elevated breathing was barely letting her speak, "don't be gentle."

Amazing how hardly audible that was when the diva herself could barely keep her mouth shut on every other occasion. It astounded the blonde almost as much as it irritated her to not be able to hear a response to her insisting request. "Speak up," her voice echoed, almost. Rachel shook at the sound. The blonde felt a tug of sentiment, but just a small pull. "I can't hear you if you don't use your talented voice, Rachel," her tone dripped with sweetness as she spoke hoarsely into the diva's ear. She heard a shaky whimper come from the smaller girl before finally getting an answer at an appropriate volume, "I-I said: don't be gentle."

Quinn's eyes rolled back as she thrusted two fingers into the diva, and a moan escaped her own lips at just how wet the other girl was for her. The blonde's hand worked sloppily through Rachel's wetness, the only solution being three fingers; to which the diva cried out. Quinn brought her lips back to the brunette's ear and breathed roughly, "fuck, Rachel. You're so fucking wet…" The cheerleader cradled the other girl's head, keeping her ear close to her, "how dare you stroll down the halls with this outfit on, expecting any of us not to objectify you?"

Her fingers worked harder, pausing only to circle her clit vigorously. She wasn't expecting an answer from the diva. Quinn knew she couldn't offer her a role on Broadway to get her to speak right now, so she just kept whispering hotly into Rachel's ear, "I was fucking dripping watching you walk past me this morning. All I could think about was getting you alone and fucking the lights out of you until you begged me to stop," she bit her earlobe and sucked it into her mouth, "twice."

"Sweet…Jesus," the diva voiced into Quinn's ear, "so-fu-Quinn I'm so close."

The blonde grinned wide, "do you want to come, Rachel?" She teased against the brunette.

"Y-yes, Quinn, please," the girl pleaded.

"Say it again," she hissed as her hand gripped the chocolate locks roughly, not caring whether or not it was hurting her, "beg me to come, Rachel."

"Oh, God, please, Quinn," her voice shook completely, barely able to form sentences, "fucking please, let me come."

"Alright, Rachel."

With a one last thrust and curling of her two fingers now, she pressed up against the tightening walls and felt the diva completely stiffen, crying out in broken sobs of pleasure. Her body shaking briefly before surely turning to stone beneath her touch. God, she could watch this all day, everyday. It was a fucking masterpiece. Her lips remained parted even after coming undone and Quinn could see the pink of her tongue, incapable to stay still as opposed to the rest of her. The blonde let her rest back onto the desk, now growing desperate herself to taste the diva.

Quinn's fingers were replaced by her mouth and soft gasps reverberated off the walls of the empty classroom as her tongue continued to work it's way to cleaning up the delicious mess she had created. Rachel's hand limply rested in the blonde's hair and with each stroke against her sex, the cheerleader could hear sigh after sigh.

Moments later, Quinn surfaced, climbing over the smaller girl. She grabbed Rachel's face and connected their lips, letting her tongue graze the diva's bottom lip. They battled for control; a little loosely on the brunette's behalf, but Quinn couldn't possibly blame her for the lack of enthusiasm. Though, every now and then, soft moans elicited from the brunette as she tasted herself in the cheerleader's mouth.

The act wasn't spoken of and both girls continued their daily routines with not so much as a glance if it wasn't necessary. It wasn't until about a week later that Quinn opened her locker to find a small note folded neatly above her books that simply read:

"Blackmailed Santana into letting me borrow her nurse uniform. House call?"