Warning: Roleplay, light bondage, mediocre queening, slight D/s power!play between two consenting adults. And absolutely disgraceful use of a tactical baton. LOL the yooj.

Summary: "Santana cracks the front door open, enough to peek outside, and her mouth goes dry at what she sees; standing on the opposite side of the door, posture stiff and powerful, is her girlfriend- dressed in a crisp, clean, dark blue police uniform." Roleplay!Brittana. Light bondage, power!play, etc. SUMOSMU #6

A/N: So as you can see, this week's Wanky Wednesday theme was apparently police themed. Not that I'm complaining-

Well, okay, actually I am. I hate cop stories. They make me cringe. This is NOT a cop story, because Brittany is pretending to be a cop, and therefore also broke about 27 laws in the process. Anytime I read a sexy cop story I can never get into it because I'm too busy like, "OMG THAT'S SO ILLEGAL OMG THE CAR HAS CAMERAS IN IT THEY CAN'T HAVE SEX THERE."

But meh. That's just me. Hashtag LEO problems! Ahaha.

On a related note: holy mother of fuck! Have you read Jelly(jellymankelly)'s SUMOSMU contribution for this week? First of all, I'm going to pimp her story, Innocent, because it's actually a really decently-written cop story. All of the awards to that short and to the point Brittana love. If you haven't read it, go read it- come on, it's only three chapters and when it's over you will wish there was more, and now, ACTUALLY, there IS more! She wrote the CSP (Companion Smut Piece, lolol) Incident Response Protocol. So if you haven't read it, do yourself a favor and go read that little gem of smutty awesomeness. You won't be sorry- although you might want some macaroni and cheese. I know I do.

This story is dedicated to my friend, the Phoenix. :D …and yeah, no, I don't have anything else to say. LOL.

Happy wanking! WE'RE THERE, FOLKS!


Santana hums lightly to herself as she mixes a drink, standing in the kitchen of her girlfriend's small apartment. It's Friday night, and her body is practically vibrating with a nervous, excited sort of energy as she waits for her girlfriend to come home from class. They usually spend the weekends together, alternating who travels to whom; this week it was her turn to take the train from NYC to Boston, and she let herself in with her key earlier in the day before making herself at home, as usual.

She looks at her phone anxiously- she hadn't heard from her girlfriend since this morning, but that wasn't uncommon. Her classes at MIT were demanding and she wasn't the best student, so she had to focus all of her attention on her studies. Santana didn't mind, though- soon her beautiful, sexy girl would be in her arms and they'd be spending the entire weekend together. She bounces slightly on her feet at the thought and reaches for her glass, stabbing a straw in it and taking a long, slow sip. The alcohol in her drink burns her throat slightly, but she enjoys the tingle as it spreads through her body. She takes another long sip and glances up at the clock on the wall. Her girlfriend should be home any minute. She wonders absently what they should do for dinner- maybe she should order pizza, or-

A loud, firm knock at the door makes her jump suddenly and she glances at the clock again to double-check the time. It's not too terribly late, but she's definitely not expecting any visitors tonight. She absently wonders if her girlfriend is, and who they might be- she swallows and shakes her head at the incriminating thoughts. She trusts her girl- completely. After one more sip, she sets her drink down and carefully moves through the kitchen, through the small living room and to the front door.

She looks through the peephole, but, seeing no one, she grows puzzled. Who could be knocking on her girlfriend's door? Should she open it? Should she pretend to not be home?

In the end, her curiosity gets the better of her, and she twists the door handle and cracks the door open, enough to peek outside. What she sees makes her heart pound straight between her legs.

Standing on the opposite side, posture stiff and powerful, is her girlfriend- dressed in a crisp, clean, dark blue police uniform. Santana rakes her eyes down her body, taking in everything, from her blonde hair pulled up into a tight ponytail and her fitted police hat, to her skinny, black tie cinched snug around her neck (complete with a silver tie clip- Santana shakes her head at her girlfriend's attention to detail) and all the way down to her creased pants, her loaded utility belt, her shiny black boots- she's flawless, and Santana's speechless. She raises her eyes from the gleaming, authentic-looking badge pinned to her girlfriend's chest (where the hell did she even get that?) to meet her penetrating blue eyes and swallows.

Brittany's eyes sparkle playfully and they share a silent moment of communication through the cracked door before Santana gives just the slightest nod of consent. At the reaffirmation to continue, Brittany's eyes harden and she pulls her shoulders back, standing even taller.

"Santana Lopez?" she asks, her voice sharp and commanding, and her tone sends a shiver down Santana's spine.

"Who wants to know?" she bites back, keeping the door mostly closed, obscuring her face. Brittany looks surprised for only a second before her expression returns to its previous cold, professional one, her eyes narrowing.

"Officer Pierce- Boston Police. I'm here to investigate a crime. May I come in?"

"No," Santana snaps, moving to close the door completely, but a firm hand and the toe of Brittany's heavy boot stop the door from moving, and Brittany leans forward, shouldering the door open and forcing her way inside. "What the fuck," Santana spits, taking a step back as Brittany closes the door behind her and scans the surrounding room with interest. "You can't just burst the fuck into my apartment and-"

"You live here?" Brittany asks sharply.

"My girlfriend does," Santana snaps back. "And she's going to be pissed when she comes home in a minute and finds you here."

Brittany raises a teasing eyebrow. "Will she, now?"

"Yes." Santana glares, crossing her arms and refusing to let Brittany any further into the apartment. She points her left hand at the intruding officer intimidatingly, her expression challenging as she snarls, "So I suggest before that happens you take your bacon ass right back out the front door."

"Ma'am, I have a job to do, and I'm not leaving until I do it," Brittany says firmly. Santana scoffs, but then shifts in alarm when Brittany moves closer. "You don't have anything on you, do you? Any weapons?"

"I have razorblades in my hair," Santana sneers, only partly joking.

"Well for your safety and mine, do you mind if I frisk you for weapons?" Brittany's voice is almost bordering on suggestive, and the underlying seductive lilt of her voice makes Santana's pulse pound in her ears. An image of the sexy blonde's hands groping her pops into her brain, and she visibly shudders before she shakes her head violently.

"No," she hisses. She advances on Brittany, her eyes dark and burning, and gets up in her face. "And I'm asking you- no, I'm telling you to get the fuck out, please, afores I ends you."

To her credit, Brittany holds her ground, but rests her right hand on her gun holster. She squares her shoulders and says, with only a slight waver in her voice, "Ma'am, need I remind you that I'm here for a reason?"

Sighing irritably, Santana rolls her eyes and backs off. "Well hurry it the fuck up, I do not have all fucking night. I have shit to do before my girlfriend gets home."

"I understand that, but if you cooperate nicely, I'll be gone soon and you can move on with your evening," Brittany reassures with only a slightly teasing tone.

Santana shifts impatiently. "Okay, so what do you want?"

Brittany smirks, letting her eyes trail down Santana's body slowly, completely obvious in her appreciative leering. She licks her lips, openly staring at Santana's cleavage and long, bare legs, and Santana squirms, feeling uncomfortably hot at Brittany's burning regard and close proximity. When Brittany finally raises her eyes to Santana's face and their gazes lock, she says, "Some water would be nice. I'm feeling a little bit… hot."

Glaring, Santana makes her way to the kitchen, acutely aware of Brittany trailing after her. Brittany's boots are heavy on the wooden floor of the apartment, thudding with each step, and Santana can practically feel her intense gaze on her as she fills a glass with tapwater and thrusts it to the officer, hoping to hurry her to leave.

Brittany accepts it with a deliberate, patronizing smile, and she lifts the glass to her lips, drinking slowly, while Santana fidgets uncomfortably, glancing up at the clock. She can feel her pulse pounding between her legs- there's no denying the girl before her is unequivocally gorgeous, and she can't help but trace her eyes over the blonde's mouth as it presses to the edge of the glass, or down her creamy throat as she swallows. Maybe the alcohol is catching up with her, but all Santana wants to do is lunge forward and sink teeth into Brittany's neck and suck. Hard.

Once she's finished drinking, Brittany sets the glass down with a pronounced clink, snapping Santana out of her fantasy, and licks her lips, her pink tongue darting out and making Santana throb. "Are you in a hurry?"

"I told you, my girlfriend will be home soon-"

"Is your girlfriend Santana Lopez?" Brittany asks casually, her eyes teasing.

"No," Santana says firmly, almost cracking a smile, but she grits her teeth and allows her edginess to sink into her bones, into her skin. Her nerves are on fire with Brittany so close to her, and especially dressed like that-

"Does Santana Lopez even live here?"

"No. Just my girlfriend."

Brittany nods absently, scrutinizing Santana's face to see if she's lying. After a moment she seems to buy Santana's statement, but asks instead, "Will your girlfriend know where to find Santana Lopez?"

Santana's eyes widen with slight panic before she coughs into her fist and shakes her head quickly. "Why the fuck would she know?"

Brittany smirks, triumphant at having caught Santana. "Well, I'll just wait around to ask her, just in case she knows anything. You said she'd be home soon, right?"

"No, actually- she won't be home for a while-"

"You told me before that she was going to be here any minute," Brittany states, her tone growing just the slightest bit angry.

"I just wanted you to leave," Santana says with a shrug. Then she meets Brittany's stare challengingly, standing up tall. "So why don't you?"

Brittany's eyes narrow. "I told you I'm here to investigate a crime," she says coolly.

"And what crime would that be, exactly?" Santana dares, leaning forward intimidatingly. Brittany rocks back on her heels in surprise.

"Retail theft," she says. "I received a call from a department store; a purse was stolen." Brittany shifts her eyes over to Santana's lavender purse on the counter. "A purse that looks exactly like that one, actually."

"What the fuck are you saying?" Santana hisses. "You think I stole the purse?"

"Not unless you're Santana Lopez," Brittany returns immediately. "Are you?"

"And what if I am?"

"Then I'd say you're under arrest," Brittany says lowly, shifting forward, feeling the tension in the room. Santana steps forward, invading her space.

"You have no proof."

"I watched the security cameras."

"That wasn't me."

"I think it was."

"Well it wasn't."

"Your word against mine," Brittany smirks. "But since you're not Santana Lopez, who are you?" Santana falters, unprepared for the question, and Brittany nods. "That's what I thought."

"Get out of my apartment, puta."

Brittany raises a taunting eyebrow, but Santana can tell her patience is running thin. Santana simmers with anticipation, feeling her temperature rising, her pulse pounding. "I thought it was your girlfriend's."

"Well I'm speaking on her behalf. Now get the fuck out, pig, afore I show you out myself, compliments of Lima Heights Adjacent hospitality-"

Brittany lunges forward suddenly, snatching Santana's wrist tightly in her hand and stilling Santana's outburst. Her blue eyes are hard and dark as she growls, "I'm done playing nice with you, trash. I'm taking you down to the station for questioning and we'll see if some good, old-fashioned interrogation won't change your story about that purse." She tries to tug Santana's arm behind her back and Santana yanks violently out of her grasp.

"Don't fucking touch me, you crazy-ass bitch!" Santana snarls, twisting out of Brittany's grasp.

"Stop resisting," Brittany growls, cornering Santana against the counter. They stand, regarding each other for a moment, each waiting for the other to make the first move- and then Santana seizes her chance. She lunges forward, placing her hands on Brittany's chest, and shoves, knocking the blonde slightly off balance enough for her to slip away. In the next instant she's making a beeline for the door.

"[Fucking crazy cop!]" Santana yells in Spanish. She makes it as far as the living room before Brittany's tackling her to the floor, her hat falling off in the process, and they fight for control for long moments. "[Get the fuck away from me! Let go, bitch! Stop!]"

Brittany struggles to assert herself on top, but her belt is bulky and Santana is smaller than her- she wriggles out of her hold and grasps onto her long, blonde ponytail, tugging harshly and pushing her face into the rug as she moves on top of her. Brittany squirms, clawing at Santana's forearms while Santana spits obscenities at her. After a heated tussle, Santana ends up on top, straddling Brittany's waist and using her weight to pin the blonde down while Brittany pants, glaring, her forehead slightly sweaty, beneath her.

Santana smirks, triumphant. "Look who's on the bottom now, cunt."

At Santana's words, Brittany bites her lip and thrusts her hips up sharply into a bridge, bucking Santana forward, and before Santana can react, Brittany traps her arm and rolls, reversing their positions, only now Brittany is lying between Santana's legs with her hands pressing Santana's arms to the floor.

"Bitch," Santana spits, and Brittany chuckles, smiling darkly, her long, blonde bangs hanging messily across her face from the struggle.

"Don't you have any respect for authority figures?" Brittany says with a predatory grin, and Santana twists, thrashing violently to shake out of Brittany's grasp. Her efforts are wasted, however- Brittany has her full weight pressing her to the floor, and her grip is solid and firm.

"Respect is earned, not given," Santana hisses, panting, still trying to shake free from Brittany's steel grip. "Now let me up."

"You really think it's that easy?" Brittany purrs, and her sinister tone makes Santana shudder. "You just fought an officer of the law."

Santana scoffs. "Bacon."

Brittany glares. "You need to be taught some respect," she seethes, and before Santana can respond, she shifts between her legs, pressing her thigh right up against Santana's warm center.

Santana stifles her gasp of pleasure, biting her lip to still the way her hips try to buck up against Brittany's leg. Brittany grins at the endeavor, and quickly, she moves her grip so that her left hand is holding both of Santana's wrists to the floor. She carefully shifts out from between Santana's spread legs and through sheer force, rolls her onto her stomach.

"Stop resisting," she repeats, her voice hard-edged as she maneuvers a writhing Santana into handcuffing position. "Hands behind your back, slut. Do it now."

Santana continues to struggle but she's powerless- she's trapped in a three-point pin, with Brittany's knee pressed between her shoulder blades, holding her down with most of her weight. She hears clinking and then before she can resist, cold metal is encircling her wrists.

She's handcuffed.

"What the fuck?!" Santana demands, squirming around underneath Brittany's knee. "What the fuck are you doing? You can't handcuff me! You take those off right the fuck now before I go all Lima Heights on your ass-"

Ignoring her, Brittany lifts her weight from her back and tugs Santana up roughly. "Sit up. Lean forward." Brittany climbs to her knees, pulling Santana harshly with her, making the girl wince from the awkward positioning of her arms. "Stand up, bitch. You wanted to do this the hard way, so now we're going to do it the hard way."

Brittany practically yanks Santana to her feet, and Santana tries to ignore the way her sex throbs at Brittany's display of strength, at Brittany's sure, powerful grip on her arm. Once Santana's standing, Brittany takes a deep, calming breath. She hums, holding Santana's arm in escort position with her left hand, and trailing her right gently down Santana's bare arm, feeling her shiver at the touch. She leans forward, letting her warm breath wash over Santana's ear, and practically purrs, "It's time for me to do a search. Spread your thighs for me."

Santana squeezes her eyes shut, arousal punching through her at Brittany's alluring tone. "Fuck you," she hisses through her gritted teeth, and then she gasps loudly as Brittany roughly cups her sex from behind.

"Seems like you'd like that too much," Brittany chuckles, using her hand to push Santana's thighs apart while Santana stands, shaking with anger but most of all, desire. Her clit is hard and throbbing between her legs, and she wants more than anything to break character and ride Brittany's hand- but she can't. She bites her lip and withholds her whimper.

"Spread your legs," Brittany says again, a little more firmly, and when Santana doesn't move, Brittany kicks her foot, widening her stance forcefully. Santana gasps as Brittany pushes her forward, keeping her off balance, and struggles not to moan as Brittany begins her exploration.

Starting at the top of her head, Brittany strokes long fingers through Santana's dark hair, and Santana almost hums in pleasure at the feeling of Brittany caressing her scalp lovingly. Warm fingertips trail behind her ear and down her neck before coming to rest on her collarbones, and then without warning, Brittany presses a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the base of her neck, and Santana's breath hitches.

Brittany's hand continues to explore, moving down over her clothed breast and then cupping it firmly. She squeezes gently and Santana can barely withhold her moan of pleasure- but her nipple stiffens at Brittany's touch and gives her away, and she can feel Brittany's teasing laugh from the way her hot breaths tickle over her bare skin. Santana swallows, about to give Brittany a vicious piece of her mind, but then she feels Brittany's other hand on her other breast, groping her roughly, and her mouth sucking on the base of her neck, and her words die in her throat.

"Mm, your nipples are so hard," Brittany breathes into her ear. "You can try to resist me but I know you want it."

Panting, Santana struggles to maintain her balance as Brittany presses up against her. She twitches her fingers against Brittany's stomach- covered in her button-up uniform shirt- and curses her handcuffed state as the blonde's searing tongue slips out beneath her ear, and her touch grows rougher. Brittany pinches and tugs on her nipples, trying to elicit a response from her captive, but Santana is silent; the only evidence of her pleasure is her hard nipples and the way her chest heaves with her rapid breaths, with her struggle not to succumb to Brittany's authority.

It only makes Brittany want to try harder.

Still pressed close to Santana's back, she slides her hands lower, toying with the waistband of Santana's shorts before sliding down and around her inner thighs. She can feel the heat emanating from Santana's center and she bites her lip, loving the expanse of smooth skin beneath her palms as she explores tan thighs. She dares her touch higher and feels Santana shake against her. Smirking, she cups Santana's sex boldly, feeling rather than hearing the raspy, shuddering moan that finally rumbles its way up from Santana's chest.

"God, you're so fucking ready for me, aren't you?" Brittany pants, her own sex aching with desire from Santana's reluctant response.

"Stop," Santana gasps, but her hips buck forward slightly.

In answer, Brittany pulls her hands away and instead swiftly unfastens Santana's shorts.

"What're you doing?" Santana demands, sounding slightly panicked.

"I'm going to have to conduct a more thorough search," Brittany says nonchalantly as she forcibly tugs Santana's shorts and soaked panties down her thighs, and before Santana can protest, Brittany's driving two fingers deep into her tight, wet heat from behind.

"Fuck," Santana yelps, slamming her eyes shut as Brittany explores inside her. Brittany curls her fingers, spreads them, twists them, stretching her slightly before pulling out. She pushes forward on Santana's shoulder, guiding her towards the couch, and bends her over the arm, pressing her head into the cushion.

"Stay there," she says gruffly. Santana tenses, feeling extremely vulnerable in her position. The cool air on her slick, heated sex is sending shivers through her as she waits for whatever it is Brittany's going to do to her. She's about to open her mouth again when Brittany starts talking.

"There's only one way to deal with criminals like you," she says, her voice low. It sends a hard throb of pleasure straight between Santana's legs, and Santana clenches her thighs in the hopes of giving herself some relief. "You don't understand talking- only action. So I'll show you. I'll show you how sluts like you deserve to be treated."

Suddenly, Santana feels something hard press against her entrance and she twists to try and see, but the way she's situated makes it impossible. Her hands are still cuffed, awkwardly and somewhat painfully, behind her back. Her shoulders have started to get sore from the position, and the side of her face is smashed up against the couch cushion, the smooth fabric rubbing against her cheek. Her legs are spread, and she can feel Brittany standing between them, the material of her uniform pants brushing against her bare calves every so often. But what is she doing?

She struggles not to groan as Brittany continues to push the object into her further- it's big, but not unbearably so. Brittany steadily works it inside of her, pushing in an inch and then pulling out, sliding it in further each time until it's in as far as Santana can take. Gasping hard against the couch, Santana clenches hard around the solid object, and shivers at the bursts of pleasure that shoot through her.

Brittany leans forward, and Santana gasps as she realizes the blonde has unbuttoned her shirt. Brittany's bare breasts press against her clothed back, but even through her shirt, she can feel Brittany's hard nipples. She bites her lip at how aroused the girl behind her is, and squirms, still feeling the hard object pressed deep inside her.

When Brittany pulls it out, she groans softly at the loss, but then Brittany's pushing it back in roughly, making her choke on a gasp at the sharp pleasure.

"F-fuck," she whimpers into the couch as Brittany picks up the pace.

"You're such a dirty girl," Brittany pants against her shoulder. "You're loving this- getting fucked by my baton. Ugh- dirty, filthy girl."

Santana shudders hard once Brittany tells her what's filling her up so good- her whole body is throbbing. She resists bucking her hips in favor of keeping herself still. She will not cave, authority or not. But fuck, it feels good-

Brittany straightens up, and Santana feels her pace quicken, feels the nightstick driving into her, slow and deep, over and over. She can feel every glorious inch as it moves inside her, and for an instant she hates that Brittany knows exactly how to make her crumble.

"You have the right to remain silent," Brittany informs her slyly. Then, her voice drops to a low, seductive purr as she says, "though I really don't think you can."

"Get off me," Santana demands, twisting her torso despite the level of discomfort it causes her.

"Oh, I'm definitely going to get off." Brittany pauses, and then adds, "I hope your girlfriend won't mind."

Santana curses in Spanish as Brittany continues to torture her between her legs. She knows her body is betraying her- she can feel her own wetness seeping down her thighs. She can feel her own orgasm building quickly, her legs tensing, her back arching slightly. Her clit is throbbing almost painfully- she's close, but just the stimulation from the hard shaft of Brittany's nightstick isn't enough to push her over the edge, and Brittany knows it.

"Fucking slut," Brittany rasps, her own arousal building to unbearable heights. "I bet you wish you could come, don't you?" At Santana's silence, she brings her palm down sharply against Santana's ass, smacking it. Santana arches up, hissing, but still remains quiet, and Brittany bites her lip as she watches the way Santana's slick, tight insides grip at the baton as she tugs it out, as if trying to keep it inside her. She smacks Santana's ass again, harder. "Answer me."

"Go to hell," Santana grits through her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut, shaking. She's so close- but she's not going to crack, she's not-

Brittany stops, pulling the baton completely out. She rubs the tip of it against Santana's hard clit, eliciting a strangled gasp from the cuffed girl, and sighs. "It seems like you need some more persuasion." She drops the baton and Santana listens to the ruffling of clothes, to the loud thumping noise Brittany's boots make as they come off.

After a long, aching moment spent trembling and clenching on the edge, Santana gasps as Brittany tugs her up, shifting her onto the couch and pushing her to lean back against the arm. Brittany climbs onto the couch in front of her, barefoot, wearing her uniform pants and shirt and nothing else. Her shirt is unbuttoned, her pale breasts and hard nipples completely exposed, and Santana feels her mouth water, nearly overcome with the desire to lick down the lines of definition along Brittany's stomach.

"Still think you can resist the law?" Brittany asks, her voice a mixture of sweet, sexy, and commanding as she shifts onto her knees and unbuttons her pants swiftly, letting them drop to her lower thighs. Then, spreading her thighs slightly, she slips her right hand down between them, searching through her wet folds until she finds her clit, hard and throbbing. The breathless moan she releases as she quickly strokes it has Santana echoing the sentiment, and she bucks her hips forward against her hand.

"Yeah," she gasps, lips parting. "Oh, fuck- feels so good-"

Santana can only watch as Brittany brings herself to the edge, her left hand grasping the back of the couch tightly while her right hand works between her thighs. Santana can see Brittany's arousal smeared all over the creamy flesh, and the way Brittany's parted mouth drops open even further makes her whole body feel like it's going to explode without even being touched. She's practically keening- she's so close but she can't do anything about it. Her hands are still cuffed, and now Brittany's kneeling over her fucking herself. She can see Brittany's fingers as they disappear into her tight heat, can see the way her forearm muscles flex, indicating that she's curling them inside. Brittany's moaning, whimpering, her breath is ragged, her heaving chest is flushed, and Santana bites her lip hard, trying to resist begging, but her level of arousal is almost painful and she's getting desperate.

Just when Santana thinks she's going to break, Brittany pulls her shaking, glistening fingers from where they were buried inside her and reaches forward to wind them in Santana's hair. She tugs on it as she shuffles closer, pulling Santana's face down level with her slick center. Santana takes a deep breath, surrounded by the smell of Brittany; she swallows hard, her heart thundering in her chest at the dark, confident look in Brittany's eyes. Brittany pulls her face closer, so that her nose presses against her stomach, and she hears the blonde release a shaky breath above her.

"Fuck, I'm still so hot," Brittany pants, tightening her grip on Santana's hair. "And you still haven't learned who's in charge." She reaches down between her legs with her left hand and spreads herself, showing her dripping slit, swollen, pink lips and the hard nub at the top of her sex to her captive. Santana licks her lips, shivering, completely surrounded by Brittany's heat, by Brittany's smell. "You want to lick this pussy?" Brittany demands, but she doesn't wait for an answer. Holding Santana's head in place, she pushes her hips forward, grinding her wet sex against Santana's plump limps.

"Open your mouth," Brittany pants, commanding. "Stick your tongue out- ugh. Yeah, that's it. Fuck." Brittany tilts her head back in pleasure and Santana watches her, keeping her tongue firm and still as Brittany rubs herself against it, fucking her tongue with quick, rough thrusts. Brittany's hand tightens in Santana's hair further and she drops her head back down to watch the way her wetness covers Santana's chin and lips, the way Santana's eyes are dark and swirling with desire.

"I'm gonna come," she manages between heavy breaths, and her eyes meet Santana's, sending a powerful jolt of pleasure through her, sending her to the edge. "Shit-"

A long, low moan tumbles from Brittany's lips as her orgasm hits, and her hips shudder against Santana's mouth. Santana can't help a moan from spilling from her own lips- she can feel Brittany's clit pulsing against her tongue, can see her abs tightening and trembling with the blonde's release right in front of her, and she squirms, two seconds away from breaking character.

Brittany gives one last rut of her hips before she releases Santana's head, letting her fall back against the couch. Then, roughly, she grabs Santana's hips and flips her over, so that she's once again bent over the arm, only this time she's kneeling on the couch. Brittany doesn't hesitate and drives two fingers into Santana from behind, and then three, and then she's reaching around underneath her with her other hand to rub at her clit. Seconds later Santana's arching up against her, crying out in her release, but Brittany's relentless even as Santana strangles her fingers- she continues her hard, powerful thrusting through Santana's orgasm and into the next one.

Leaning over her back, she presses a wet kiss to Santana's clothed shoulder, still keeping her fast rhythm between her legs.

"Oh, god-" Santana cries out, finally breaking character as Brittany keeps pounding her, filling her with three fingers. "Brittany-"

"That's it," Brittany moans, panting against Santana's shoulder, loving the way Santana pulls at her, loving the tightening of her muscles and how slick she is inside. "Come for me again, baby."

"Brittany, fuck-"

Santana's hips jerk and her back curves into a taut bow as she arches up in her release. She comes for long moments, her muscles tense and frozen, her breath stolen, before she collapses heavily, gasping for air.

Brittany presses gentle kisses to the back of her neck, but all Santana can do is shake and struggle for breath. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registers that Brittany has uncuffed her, but her limbs feel so heavy and she feels so drained she's not sure if she can even move. Her shoulders feel stiff and sore, her sex feels sore, her thighs feel sore- she groans. It's not until Brittany is laying her down on the bed that she feels her strength returning to her.

Brittany is half sprawled on top of her, her chin resting on the backs of her hands pressed flat against Santana's chest, a half-smile stretched across her lips.

Santana takes a deep breath, her eyes finding Brittany's loving blue ones.

"Hi, baby," Brittany says softly, her smile widening.

"Holy fuck," Santana rasps. "Holy Jesus fuck shit-"

Brittany kisses her, and Santana quiets in favor of tenderly exploring her girlfriend's mouth. When Brittany pulls back, her eyes playful and reverent, Santana sighs.

"Britt- wow."

Brittany ducks her head shyly, blushing. "Did you not- I mean, was it okay?"

Santana laughs. "It was more than okay, I just- I wasn't expecting you to be so authentic, I guess. It was- intense."

"Mm," Brittany agrees, pressing kisses to Santana's neck before nuzzling her face there. They lay there in silence, just breathing in the moment before Santana speaks again.

"Britt?"

"Yeah?"

"Where did you get that badge?"


Okay so. That was fun. O_O

In case you were confused, Santana was expecting Brittany the whole time. ;) The roleplaying was premeditated (ohhh U C WUT I DID THUR) and they both consented to it beforehand.

If I used any police jargon you didn't understand (though I seriously doubt I did) feel free to ask!

Review if you feel like it!

If not, well then. Don't. I don't have the authority to make you.

MUH MUH MUH.

See you next time, kids!

AND NOW A WORD FROM ~OFFICER SAFETY:

When you are roleplaying, make sure you have a safe word. It's very important.

CONSENT is also very important. Talk to your partner beforehand to set boundaries and make sure you keep those boundaries. The last thing you ever want to do is betray your partner's trust, right?

Roleplaying can be fun, but only if EVERYONE is having fun. Then it's win-win. :D

Also, if you happen to use handcuffs- make sure you have a key. You do NOT want to be those assholes. Trust me.

I also don't recommend fucking a nightstick. They are extremely heavy- for SMASHING BONES. Don't use them for SMASHING VAGINAS. Just sayin'.

PLAY SAFE AND STAY SAFE!

*****title from the Linkin Park song of the same name, obvs.