When you wake again, you're in a completely different position. The moon is in another part of the sky now, and the room is completely dark. You refuse to open your eyes. If you lay still you may even fall back to sleep without realizing you woke up this time. It feels like you've been sleeping for mere moments, dreams caught in the corners of your eyes; the darkness of the room deep enough to whisk you back to sleep. You are warm. With your eyes still shut you let your fingertips find the source of heat. Of course it's Quinn, the blonde is spooned behind you. Quinn's arm is tucked snuggly underneath your side, and her face burrows into the crook of your neck. She is pressed fully against your backside from torso to waist, but her legs are spread straight out, her hips twisted away from where you're sleeping. A possessive tug answers why you woke this time, Quinn's hand squeezing and pulling you closer, if possible, toward her. She groans, and the vibrations tickle faintly at your neck. You are tempted to turn around, unsure if she is still sleeping.
Quinn's mouth is moving, but through muffled noise and the distraction you are getting from the movement, you can't understand the quiet murmurs dancing on your flesh. The feeling of puckered lips against your neck forces your eyes wide open, and you try to readjust to the darkness of the room. Your breath catches in your throat when you feel her tongue trace pathways along your hairline and you try to turn around—stopped mid-motion by Quinn's flexing arm. You still your movements when she kisses just below your jaw, and you hear her whisper 'Don't' against the shell of your ear. Your eyes close reflexively when she sucks on the spot, twirling her tongue slowly to ease any discomfort.
Her lips press against your pulse point, and you catch yourself squeezing your thighs together to quell the thump that beats in sync to your speeding heartbeat. You tug Quinn's hand from beneath you, and you lace your fingers with hers and squeeze lightly as she plays with the exposed skin of your throat. When Quinn moans against you, it reverberates through your body like a shockwave and your back arches against her instinctually. This is wrong. You have a boyfriend, and Quinn is just your friend, and maybe you should stop before you have no control left- because Quinn is nibbling on your ear now, and you are close to ruining the shorts you are in. This is wrong in so many ways but you can't help but enjoy the pictures Quinn seems to be painting with her tongue.
Quinn pulls her fingers away from yours slowly, like she isn't sure if she should let go soon, and lets her hand rest on the muscles of your abdomen. She lifts your tank top slowly, her breath slow and shallow, her fingers shaky. She lets her hand fall beneath your navel, and she begins drawing circles, dainty fingertips leaving remnants of electricity in their wake. The husk of Quinn's heavy breath is loud in your ear, and her voice is dangerously deep when she whispers.
"I've always wanted to know what your skin felt like..."
Her hand is still rubbing circles, and you expect it to dip lower... it grazes so close to your waistband that you hold your breath until she slows the movement. Unexpectedly, her fingers reach upward, and she palms your breast and she squeezes. You bite your lip to keep the noise from tumbling out, and you feel the tops of Quinn's thighs touch yours for only seconds, before her leg slides seamlessly between yours. Her thigh is lithe, and it seems to touch all of the enflamed places of your sex. Her hand is kneading your breast lightly, her teeth nipping at your earlobe as you battle to stay sane through the sensation.
"I always imagined you'd fit perfectly in my hand..."
You don't know why the confession makes you pulse, but it does, and Quinn continues to fondle your breast; pinching your erect nipple lightly enough that you buck your hips, effectively dragging yourself over Quinn's firm thigh. The action makes you shudder, your body not ready for the overwhelming feeling of such an intense arousal. Quinn begins rocking against you, dragging her leg murderously backward and forward, parts of you so engorged that every place her leg touches evokes small explosions upon impact.
"Are you wet, Rachel?"
You whimper out a broken yes, and she pulls away from you quickly to roll you onto your back. She's between the V of your open thighs now, sitting on her legs.
"How wet are you?"
You wish in that moment for light. You wish for the sun to rise instantly, so you could see her face. Her voice is calm and even, as if she were reciting something from memory. You clear your throat to answer her, suddenly shy to admit just how soaked you are.
The guttural growl that purrs from Quinn makes you ache instantly. You feel the bed shift, and she rests her hand on your knee before speaking.
If you wanted to stop, now would be the time. But no amount of logic could combat the need you felt inside you, and Quinn wanted to touch you in the place that needed attention— no, stopping wasn't really an option anymore. You put your hand on top of hers and you let it drag down the slope of your spread thigh, and down to the damp crotch of your shorts. You guide her finger over the soiled fabric, and you press her fingertip against your clit before dragging it down the length of your slit again. You hear Quinn's loud intake of breath, the shock of your evident arousal releasing a noise akin to awe. She runs her fingers over the length of you a few more times without your guidance, before leaning back on her legs again.
"I want to feel you, Rachel...may I?"
You both haven't spoken louder than a whisper since you woke, and you really wish you could see her face... because you are kind of nervous and a bit unsure if you should let her touch you so intimately. But the voice in your head is loud, urging you forward. You'd already crossed the line, and you wouldn't turn back now. You swallow the dryness in your mouth and you tell Quinn it's okay. She pulls down your shorts slowly, and you breathe deep when she tosses them into the darkness. You hear more rustling fabric, and the bed dips right before you feel Quinn's fingers ghost through your folds. She strokes the wet skin, torturing you with the tedious pull and drop of her soft fingers-dancing around your clit like she knew how close she had you to the brink.
"Oh God Rachel, I'm so hard."
The comment catches you off guard. You're suddenly distracted with what Quinn could have meant. She doesn't let you ask the question teetering on the tip of your tongue, because she leans over you and kisses you on the mouth for the first time. She is balancing on her palms, her mouth moving expertly against yours and you see fireworks. No one has ever kissed you this way before. It's slow and purposed, like she knows your body better than you do and she has decided to take her time just to torture you. She kisses you fully, her tongue tracing over your bottom lip, her head tilted to avoid your nose before her tongue passes the threshold of your mouth and—and you forget everything. You don't know your name right now and the edges of your vision are blurred even though your eyes are closed and all you see is white flashes exploding on the backs of your eyelids. You worry that when you open them this kiss may have transported you somewhere different. Because surely you are floating; surely this feels so good that it can't be real anymore. Maybe you are dreaming...because the way Quinn is kissing you... you can't be quite sure that you ever really woke up. You moan into her mouth and you fist your hand in her shirt, your other hand crawls into her hair. Her stomach is pressing against your sex, and you want nothing more than to pull her to you and wrap your legs around her. You tug on her shirt and Quinn's body weight comes crashing down on top of you, her arms too weak to support her trembling body.
And then you remember.
You remember that you made her hard, and she'd said that because she was erect. Because now Quinn's penis was pressing against you, and nothing but the thin layer of her underwear separates you. You convince yourself that you are wide awake, but you don't ask questions, because Quinn resumes kissing you, like the penis pressing against your clit is normal. You save the questions you have for when the lights turn on, because Quinn rolls her length against you and your head tilts back to accommodate the keening noise that quivers from your throat. You wrap your legs around Quinn's waist and you squeeze your thighs when the hard thickness of her shaft drags along your slit again, just as Quinn moves her mouth from yours to speak.
"I've wondered how I'd feel inside you..."
She strokes against you, grinding against your slick, feverish flesh.
"I've wanted to know how you smelled."
She strokes again, this time pressing her hands downward on your hips, as she inhales the crook of your neck— the pressure sending involuntary spasms to your center.
"I've wanted to taste you..."
She trembles when she strokes against you this time. You are thumping-eager for her to continue. You are so wet that Quinn would slip in if she weren't wearing underwear, she would slide inside you and fill in all the spaces Finn would never reach. You want so badly to pull down her underwear... to feel her bare skin against you. She is picking up speed with each thrust, and you wonder how much longer you can do this without finishing before her. Her strokes grow shorter and more desperate, and you have to bite your lip from screaming from the pure pleasure you are getting from it. Quinn seems harder than she had been before; your clit is swollen and the friction Quinn is causing has you quivering.
She pulls away slightly, and you let out a heavy, shaky sigh, the cold air taking Quinn's place as she makes adjustments. You curse the dark because you don't know what she is doing and you feel your thighs twitch with anticipation of her return. She falls forward breathless, catching your shirt with her hands and tugging it upward before settling. You feel her breasts against yours, warm and soft. The contact has your body reeling, back on edge when she pumps her hips against your clit. Her strokes are slower, like she found focus sometime after taking off her shirt. She is grinding into you so hard now that your head is thrashing against the pillow. She puts a hand on your waist and she braces herself.
"I always think about how you'll come..."
She strokes against you hard enough that you feel her spread you open... and you wonder if you've left a wet patch on her underwear. She grabs your hips and she rolls them backward until your ankles are by your ears. You are flexible enough that the stretch doesn't hurt, but the burn registers when Quinn settles on top of you. Your clit is exposed and extremely sensitive and you are nervous about what Quinn is about to do. When she presses her hips against you this time, she kisses you on the mouth and she grinds circles into your sex. You can't breathe. The rocking is stealing your breath and you are sweating and you feel like this build up might knock you out soon.
But then it happens.
Quinn is bucking uncontrollably against you, her hips jutting and bumping into you in a delicious mesh of pressure and stroke. A final drag of her hip undoes the both of you. Your orgasm is pulsing and thundering through you, and your toes curl as you feel the stretch and spurt of Quinn's penis, her underwear hot and sticky. You let your hips fall flat as Quinn rolls halfway off you, reaching over to the bedside table to flick on the lamp.
The light is blinding. It takes a moment for your eyes to get used to the bright, but when you do, all you see is the confusion on Quinn's face. You pull yourself up against the headboard, pulling your shirt down enough to cover the top half of your body. Quinn is rubbing her eyes, disoriented, as she takes in the scene laid out before her. She notices first that you are half naked, arousal smeared and musky on your thighs; face flushed. She notices next the dwindling bulge in her own underwear, the dark grey spot sticking to her skin. She looks between you and the spot on her boxer briefs and you watch her face morph from confusion to embarrassment.
"What all... what did- did we? Rachel- anything I did... it wasn't me- I wasn't... I was sleeping."
There was a look of horror on Quinn's face that you've never seen before. Followed almost immediately by shame and next a panicked look of uneasiness. She bound off the bed, topless, and ran clumsily to the bathroom. You sat quietly on the bed, listening to her wretch. And then it sinks in. She had been asleep. You feel stupid momentarily, after waking up to her cuddling in her sleep earlier, you should have been suspicious. In hindsight, it seemed obvious that something was amiss. Her lazy drawl and her wandering kisses, her blatant disregard for the penis she never told you about. Quinn had been dreaming doing those things to you...and it manifested in what had just happened. You wonder, over the noises of Quinn's upheaval, how she must feel. There were feelings there, obviously, if in her dreams she thought of you that way. There must have been feelings there for you too... because you let it happen without much protest, and even in the aftermath you can admit that it was greatest sexual experience you've had thus far. And for that to be true for you... it probably meant that your feelings for Quinn ran deeper than platonic.
The running faucet snapped you out of the trance you were sitting in. You stand, searching for your shorts in the blankets of the bed and on the floor. Finding them on the seat of Quinn's computer chair you pull them up, trying not to focus on the discomfort of the wet material, and made your way to the bathroom door. You knocked twice with no answer, calling out to Quinn before threatening to barge in. She came to the door seconds later, a towel wrapped around her torso. She didn't look you in the eye as she sat on her bed, and she cleared her throat multiple times before finally speaking.
"Did we... um. Was there sex? Did I not get up when you tried to wake me? Did I force- did I hurt you?"
She whispered it while staring at the floor. You have too many questions you want to ask her, and she is wallowing in a guilt she really shouldn't feel. You speak up before she barrels into the blame game.
"Nothing... nothing happened that I didn't want to happen. And no ...we, we didn't have intercourse. However...I didn't realize you were sleeping."
Quinn's shoulders sagged in what you hoped was relief. She turned to look at you, a melancholy look on her face.
"So... I guess my secret's out, huh?"
Her eyes drift away from you and she tucks her towel in tighter.
"It's not a bad secret... there is nothing wrong with having a penis Quinn. Although I am stumped as to how you gave birth to a child when you have a-"
Quinn was staring at you like you'd grown an extra head. A bashful smile spread across her cheeks and she kicks her bare feet out in front of her before interrupting you.
"I meant... my secret about liking you."
Your mouth snaps shut. oh. You felt like you knew all along... you just chose not to acknowledge it because you told yourself you had everything you were supposed to have. Denial... you were in denial.
"Why... why was it such a secret? You could have told me, about both things- we are friends now, and you can trust me with your secrets."
Quinn shakes her head, her hands fall to her lap as she idly examines her fingers. You don't fill the silence with anything, you give her time to process her thoughts and you wait patiently. She breathes deeply, like she is preparing for a fight, before turning to look at you with a renewed sense of determination.
"Nothing would have changed had I told you that I... that I like you. I would have had to earn back all those years I was too busy hating you for my own attraction to you. We would have built a friendship, and maybe something could have come from it. But then I would have to tell you about my condition... and everything that goes with it and- it's nobody's burden but mine. And besides, you are happy with Finn, and I would rather see you happy... even if it's with someone else."
It's sweet. And your heart beats a bit harder knowing that she cares as much as she does.
"...I have never felt that way with anyone, Quinn. Not even Finn. I didn't stop you, and I didn't think twice about doing what we did. That says a lot. It makes me question if I even love Finn... if I did, this wouldn't have happened... I wonder if I'm more in love with the thought of him ya know?"
"...will you tell Finn? About tonight? I can understand if you don't...we can pretend that whatever happened- didn't."
You could. Because Quinn had been sleeping and it had been a misunderstanding. You could keep going like tonight was just a sleepover.
"I think I have to tell him. I have to think about everything...about what I know now that I didn't before. About the idea of us... just everything. It would be hard being with him, knowing what it can be like..."
Quinn's eyes snap to you.
"What, what all did we do?"
Quinn stands abruptly, walking over to her bureau to pull out an oversized tshirt. She tugs it over the towel and let it fall, and she turns to you after taking a steadying breath.
"We engaged in intercrural relations-"
"Laymen's terms, Rachel."
Quinn's mouth settled into an O shape as she sat back down beside you. She had a lost look in her eyes. You reach your hand and let it rest lightly on top of hers.
"What's wrong? Quinn, I'm really not upset, I enjoyed myself quite a bit, even and-"
"I just wish I could remember. I've never... I've never used it that way before. And I got to with you tonight and it would have been nice to have some recollection." She sighed heavily before continuing.
"Rachel, I have a sleeping disorder. It started off small... I'd go to the fridge late at night to eat, or I would sit in front of the tv with my eyes closed. It went away for a while. Then it got worse. Sometimes I would call Santana in my sleep and just... go off on her. Then... when puberty hit, I would wake up wet, or... I would wake up doing inappropriate things to myself. Sometimes I would wake up with no explanation, but that feeling that something might have happened. It hasn't happened in a long time. And I thought I wouldn't have any problems sleeping next to you. I'm sorry... that it happened. But mostly because I don't remember. This time... I just really wish that I could."
You're surprised. Her confession is open and honest and you can't be upset at her. You aren't; you find yourself wishing she could remember too.
"So... do you have both? Or just..."
Quinn swallows, she grips the edge of the bed and turns away, before turning back to you, her face slightly flushed.
"Both... I have both. I just, I have more estrogen than I do testosterone...and my female organs are fully functional, but I can't produce sperm."
You feel silly for asking what you are about to. But you're curious. You'd just shared a wonderful experience with the blonde in front of you, one that she couldn't remember. You'd felt her pressed against you in the dark, and you wanted so badly to see her... to feel her.
"May I... may I see it?"
Quinn's eyes widen, hazel orbs stare penetratingly at you. She whispers her response.
"...you want to?"
You break eye contact.
"You... you were saying things in your sleep. About how...how you've wanted to know what I felt like, and smelled," you feel your cheeks on fire, "...you wanted to know what I tasted like. And I... I'm curious, about you too."
"Why? I've thought about you... romantically for a long time. I have a reason to want to know those things; to think about those things. Why do you want to see? You want to point at the freak show and pay me back for calling you names? "
You shake your head vigorously. Of course she is sensitive about this. But your past with her makes so much sense. Why she had such a vendetta against you... it finally adds up. You sigh deeply, and you try your best approach-honesty.
"I think I've proven how forgiving I can be. And I find it offensive that you think so low of me. I like you too, that way, Quinn- if I didn't, this would not have happened. I'm just... I'm curious about you. You, you got to touch me, the least you could do is just... show me."
"What does it mean, Rachel? I'm awake now. If I show you, it would be like slapping your boyfriend in the face. I've cheated before, I know the consequences."
You laugh out loud. So do you. You know the consequences well.
"Did you stop to think that maybe I want this. You are awake now, yea but so am I!"
You are still loud whispering, it's early. You're glad Quinn's mother is still sleeping, but you are losing your control over your temper. You take a deep breath and finish what you were saying, this time with a calmer tone.
"Quinn... I'm not one to have meaningless sex. And it's unfortunate that you weren't, aware. But- I wasn't aware either. We have this chemistry. We always have. And I have been trying to get closer to you for years. And I never knew why, Quinn. Why I wanted to be your friend so badly, or why I still wanted to be your friend through all the torture you put me through. It hasn't made sense until now. Until when you kissed me earlier and my world stopped. It makes sense now, Quinn— and maybe I've been asleep too, because it felt like waking up for the first time. I like you too, Quinn. And right now, Finn doesn't matter. It's just you and me and this- right now. We can worry about the technicalities tomorrow. But tonight... I just want to be close to you. I want to make you aware… of what you made me feel earlier."
Quinn blinks a few times. She opens her mouth and closes it again, before smiling down at her folded hands. You realize that you rushed all that out, without a breath between sentences. It's a lot to take in, but the small grin spreading across Quinn's face lets you know that she gets it. She looks up at you for a long time, before leaning over to kiss you slowly on the mouth. Her hand cups your cheek and you find yourself lost from reality again, alone with this girl and her kisses. She pulls away, and tugs a whimper from your lips as she nods at you.
"Okay...I'll show you. But... I have to uh, I have to get hard or there won't be much to see."
There is a rose tint to Quinn's cheeks as she says it. You find it adorable that she is bashful, especially after what's already happened. You lean over to her, slowly, and you tug the collar of her t-shirt. You kiss her slowly, letting your hands run along her sides, trying to soothe the uneven breaths that lift and deflate her ribcage. She's tense, nervous even and you try to get her to relax. She lets her hand fall on your thigh, and you feel her thumb trace lightly over your skin. You want more of her. You want her body pressed tightly against yours and you want to smell her all around you. You pull on her shirt as you lean back, and she crawls over you and settles cautiously on top of you. You like this... her above you, staring directly into your eyes. You brace yourself for a moment, because you realize with her awake, you could get lost in the hazel intensity that is staring down at you.
It's timid and slow, and when she bites her lip and begins to turn away you catch her chin between your fingertips and you look at her. You let your eyes close as you reach up, your lips brushing against hers firmly. Your body falls quietly back to the bed, and Quinn finally lets her weight fall fully against you. She stares at you for a moment, like she is searching for answers without words, and before you can register the movement, she kisses you hungrily. Your legs wrap instinctually around her hips and your arms tangle around her neck. You let your fingertips slide into her hair and you let the strands tickle your palms as you kiss her back.
You do nothing but kiss at first. Quinn moves her hands slowly, navigating the curve of your hip, or grazing the space right below your armpit. She feels good settled between your thighs. There is a thickness growing where you rub against her, but Quinn seems cautious with you. Her movements seem maddening now that you know what it feels like when she touches you without inhibition. She begins sucking on your bottom lip, and you decide that it's time to turn the tables...you need her pressing harder against you. You throw your weight into her and you roll both of you over. She grips the bottoms of your legs and backs up until she is sitting against the headboard. You like being in her lap... level with her eyes with both legs straddling hers. She tries to kiss you, but you stop her, pressing one finger to her lips to stop her complaints.
The first thing you do is take off your shirt. She stares at you like you've just offered her a gift, and she swallows hard before wrapping her hands loosely around your hips. You grip the edges of her t-shirt, your eyes snapping to hers in silent permission. She nods, and you hear the exhale she takes right before you pull it over her head. Her hands grip tighter at your waist when they settle and you take a moment to look at her. The lamp on the bedside table casts a glow over her skin that makes her look heavenly. You lick your lips and you lean into her, delighted with how your body weight pushes you down over her half erect penis. You kiss her, letting your tongue twirl against hers, and you dizzy yourself with her mouth.
You break away from her moments later, breathless and disheveled, and you let the lazy smile curve your lips. You dip and let your lips press the side of her neck.
"MMMhhmm, yes that feels so good, Rachel... don't stop that."
You continue, kissing down her neck with puckered lips until your mouth lands on the space just above her collarbone. Her hips jerk on impulse, and you both moan loudly at the friction that it causes. You find the spot again and you suck on it, happy with the growl she lets loose before kneading your bottom in her hands.
"Shouldn't we try to be quiet? Isn't your mom sleeping in the room next door?"
Quinn's head falls against your shoulder and she chuckles, answering with a smirk.
"My mom doesn't sleep she passes out. And I'm sure she probably fell asleep on the couch downstairs..."
She peppers a kiss on each side of your mouth and pulls away. She lets her head fall back against the headboard, and she stares at you. She pushes hair out of your face and she tugs you higher on her lap. Your noses are close to touching and you are sharing air between you. Her eyes have more green in them than brown now, and her eyelids are hooded and smoldering. You start rocking on her lap, slow strokes backward and forward, and you watch her. You memorize every look, every sound. You repeat motions that make her eyes flutter closed, or you apply pressure when she grunts and bites her lip. It's hot between you, and your chests touch each time you lift your hips up over her shaft.
You could do this until orgasm... again, but that wasn't your intention. You wanted to see her. You stop just as Quinn's breath hitches and you slide lower and settle near her knees. You look her in the eye when you grip a finger under the waistband of her underwear. You let your other hand graze slowly over her erection, and Quinn begins nodding when you squeeze it lightly in your hand. You pull the fabric down mid-thigh, but you don't break eye contact until she nods again at you—surely. Your eyes pace themselves as you stare downward, and your gaze locks on smooth, even skin.
You want it.
It's unexplainably beautiful, as is everything else belonging to Quinn Fabray. It's thick and it's soft and you reach your hand out to stroke it tentatively. Quinn's head thuds loudly against the headboard. She whines loudly when you lift off her to pull down your own shorts. They drop to the floor and you let out a breath as you stand before her, nude in the soft light. She doesn't move at first. She is fully erect now, her penis resting thickly against her stomach— and her eyes dip low as she looks over your body. You don't feel shy, and you stand under the scrutiny until she scoots off the bed to stand behind you. She pulls her underwear off and toes them aside before pressing against you, and you shiver when her hand barely touches the skin down your arm. She presses in slightly at the inside of your elbow and she traces the veins on your forearm until your hands are linked.
"I could never have imagined this..."
Quinn tugs you to her, and your eyes close when her erection presses into your bare back side. You find yourself lost for words, Quinn's breath in your ear mind numbing.
"You're beautiful, Rachel…so beautiful…"
It's a whisper, and suddenly she is spinning you on your heel. You are face to face when she kisses you, your eyes still closed and your bodies pressed together intimately. When you break away, you're both panting, and you want nothing more than to lay her down on that bed and—
You don't know what, yet. But you want it. You want it badly.
Quinn turns you both around, and you sit on the bed as she rests her back against the headboard again. She reaches out a hand and you follow her shortly, and you stand on your knees above her erection. All you had to do to feel her would be to sit, and the moist parts of you would slide over the bare parts of her and… well. You don't sit though, because it's alarming how dangerous this situation could become. And while you are nude over her lap, you are still committed to someone else and this is already in so many ways wrong. You hate that you can't stop yourself; you hate how little self-control you have when she's involved. You slide back down her lap, and you position a thigh on either side of her left leg. You settle down and you like the way her thigh flexes against the most private areas of your sex. You lean forward and you kiss her again, greedy for the feeling you get whenever your mouth meets with hers.
Your hand wraps around the base of her. Your fingertips don't touch, and it makes you ache at the mere thought of what she would feel like, inside you. You grip and slide your hand up her shaft, and she puts her hands on your hips to tilt them upward slightly, before letting her thumb breeze over your swollen clit. You love her need to please you, and you enjoy the look you share between you as you rub against her thigh—as she bucks against your slowly moving hand. You don't know why it works, but you find a rhythm. You squeeze your thighs and clutch down over her, the pressure of her leg flexing against your opening as she thumbs your clit is mouthwatering. Your voices have been reduced to broken moans and stolen grunts, the rocking of the bed a steady reminder of your pace.
You are leaving streaks on her thigh as you continue to ride her leg, and your hand pumps her frantically as she strokes you. Quinn's other hand holds onto your thigh, and your head lolls back as she pulls you down on her now rising leg. The hand pulling down on your hip reaches out abruptly, and she rolls your nipple between her fingertips and you lean forward to kiss her, your orgasm dying on her tongue; the mewling noise smothered by the meeting of your mouths. Your hand is trapped between you as your body recovers, and you let your fingertips dip and graze over Quinn's slit. You trace back up to the base of her penis and you pump her slowly, pulling away from her mouth to whisper hoarsely in her ear.
"Will you come for me, Quinn?"
She chokes out a twisted 'yes', and she spills over your fisted palm, and falls away—limp from her release. You stand on shaky legs and you find tissues on Quinn's vanity. You make quick work of cleaning your hand, and you get back on the bed beside her. You lay your head on her chest, and you get comfortable at her side, before pulling the blanket over you both. You hear only her steadying heartbeat and her evening breath, before her voice thunders in your ear.
"What will happen tomorrow?"
You answer sleepily.
"We'll figure it out… But now, we sleep."
You feel her hands push away strands of your hair before you feel her lips press gently against your forehead. You hear her quiet, 'Okay', just before your eyes flutter closed. Your sleep isn't interrupted again.