Summary: Fill for the GKM. "Brittany's not stupid- she knows Santana is totally checking her out and enjoying it, but she doesn't mind. She likes Santana, and she doesn't see anything wrong with the way their friendship is progressing." Brittana. SMUT. SUMOSMU #8.

Warning: Two girls making out and dry-humping each other. Pretty tame, as far as my stories go.

A/N: Hello, darlings! :D Happy Wanky Wednesday to you; got a short offering for you this week, since my lovely friend crammit prettymuch killed all of us with how hot her CSP (Companion Smut Piece), Barter System, was. I'm still recovering, myself. Seriously, if you haven't read it- read this first, because after you read hers you'll probably need a cigarette. Ho-ly fuck.

So anyways! As the summary informed, this is #8 in the SUMMER OF SMUT (SUMOSMU tag on tumblr, for those of you just joining us from home) and we still have a ways to go! Now that NSG is, sadly, over, I will hopefully be getting to my stack of more lengthy prompts, so next week should be a longer one. :)

This story is randomly dedicated to reader M206! Thanks for reading and reviewing, and you're awesome! :D Your patronage is very much appreciated. *sagely nod*

Happy wanking~

Sometimes, Brittany wonders if Santana actually thinks she's fooling anyone with her obvious leering.

She doesn't think the other Cheerios have picked up on it yet- mostly due to the fact that they don't look past the tough, bitchy exterior that Santana projects on a daily basis, and also because Santana is a Freshman Nobody on the bottom of the pyramid- but Brittany does, and she sees it. (Or maybe the other Cheerios don't notice because they aren't constantly sneaking glances at Santana the way Brittany does.)

Brittany studies Santana (secretly) and doesn't miss the furtive glances Santana gives the other girls when she thinks no one's watching. She notices the dark, glazed look Santana gets in her eyes when she checks out Jessica's ass when she bends to tighten her shoelaces; or Quinn's legs when she does an air split; or Brittany's everything when she does anything. Brittany doesn't think too much about it- Jessica does have a nice ass, Quinn's legs are attractive, and Brittany knows that her own body is bangin', so she doesn't blame Santana for looking (though she wishes Santana would look at her more.)

Cheerleading comes easy, and is also fun for Brittany, so while half of the new freshman squad struggles, Brittany shines without too much effort. It's still a hot, humid day, though, and she can feel a light layer of sweat coating her skin. When Coach Sylvester blows the whistle signaling practice is over and to start working on their cool-down stretches, Brittany is grateful.

She's even more grateful when Santana finds her to help with her stretches. She's such a good friend, she thinks as she rests her ankle on Santana's shoulder and leans forward, stretching out her hamstrings. Santana licks her lips, and Brittany smiles brightly at her, watching her brown eyes darken even further. She's not stupid- she knows Santana is totally checking her out and enjoying it, but she doesn't mind. She likes Santana, and she doesn't see anything wrong with the way their friendship is progressing. She's seen the current look in Santana's eyes a few times before- but usually after they make out. Seeing it now, unassociated with making out, is a little odd to Brittany, but she figures Santana just really likes looking at the girls on the squad. Nothing wrong with that, right?

Brittany leans forward further, feeling the burn in her muscles and sighing. When she reaches out to steady herself on Santana's arm, Santana wraps fingers around her forearm and strokes it discreetly, giving Brittany goosebumps and setting her nerves on fire. Santana's touch is always like electric to Brittany, sending a jolt straight to her stomach. The butterflies she gets when Santana looks at her or touches her are more intense than she's ever felt with anyone else before, but she hasn't started to sort out those feelings yet, content with where they stand.

Her gaze rises to meet Santana's, and Brittany swallows at the intensity, then forces a playful smile. Santana has her plump lower lip pulled between her teeth and is watching Brittany with burning interest. It's a look Brittany has seen before, and after she finishes her stretch, she allows Santana to link their pinkies and discreetly tug her around and under the bleachers.

Once out of sight of the other Cheerios who are still packing up, Santana pulls Brittany into a hot kiss, her mouth opening almost immediately to swipe her tongue against Brittany's bottom lip. Brittany returns the kiss, though she's unsure what it's for; but she's not going to turn down a kiss from Santana. She likes kissing Santana.

Brittany is a little confused as to why they're kissing under the bleachers, though, so when Santana pulls back for a breath, Brittany gives her a confused look. "What was that for?"

Santana shrugs in response, her confident façade belying the fact that they've never kissed anywhere but in the safety of their bedrooms behind locked doors, or behind the safety of being drunk at a party for show. They are in the open- hidden, but still outside- and there is no party. Brittany wonders fleetingly if this means their relationship is changing, but then Santana says, her voice rough and low, "I just feel really tense, B. From practice. Gotta blow off some steam."

"Oh," Brittany says, releasing a breath. She's not quite disappointed- after all, she gets to kiss Santana, and that makes her happy. So as she nods and Santana leans in and kisses her again, harder and more aggressively, Brittany doesn't hesitate to open her mouth to allow Santana's tongue access to her own. Santana's teeth find her bottom lip, and Brittany lets out a heavy breath, sliding her hands around Santana's neck as the smaller girl's arms wrap around her waist, pulling their hips together.

Brittany whimpers in response, especially when Santana guides her forcibly back to the beam supporting the bleachers and presses her against it. Santana's mouth is hungry and hot, and Brittany lets Santana kiss her fiercely, gasping when she sucks on her bottom lip hard. Brittany tightens her arms around Santana's neck and shifts her weight; she was hot before, but now she feels even more so, and there's an uncomfortable dampness in her underwear that she's noticed always accompanies her make-out sessions with Santana. She's not sure if she should be embarrassed or not, but when Santana's hand slips from her waist and moves down to grope her ass roughly through her Cheerios skirt, she forgets to care.

A soft moan works its way up from her throat as Santana continues to dominate her, her hands squeezing at her ass, her teeth tugging on her lips. Her tongue slips against hers, wet and smooth, and the contact sends a hard throb of arousal straight between Brittany's legs. She moans again, cupping the back of Santana's neck, and wishing her hair wasn't up in a ponytail, because she wants to run her fingers through it, wants to pull it affectionately, and it's harder when it's gathered up so tightly.

The kiss picks up in intensity, and Brittany's head is spinning. She lets her arms trail down Santana's back, caressing lightly. Santana is usually okay with being touched when they kiss, just as long as it's not in any sexy areas. Brittany is careful about where she lets her hands roam, even though Santana isn't as she continues to grope Brittany's ass, tugging her hips forward and against her own. Cautiously, Brittany slides her hands down to Santana's ass, and when Santana doesn't protest, she cups it hesitantly, squeezing.

The loud moan Santana releases in her mouth- so not subtle- makes Brittany throb painfully, her blood heating. She can feel her face flushing with arousal, can feel her pulse pounding everywhere. The dampness between her legs has become more prominent and Brittany knows if she slipped her hand down her skirt she'd find herself slick and soaked. A tremor runs through her at the thought.

Santana's still pulling her hips against hers, but the complete lack of friction is frustrating. Their hips are moving in tandem, but neither of them is getting anywhere with it. Brittany wonders if they've ever let themselves get this out of control- they usually stop making out long before they reach the point they're at, though Brittany is usually still turned on, and finishes herself off once Santana leaves. The quickness with which she comes around her own fingers after their make-out sessions should leave her a little embarrassed, but she knows she can't help the way she feels, and besides- isn't the point of making out to get all hot and bothered? Why would she resist?

Without thinking, Brittany shifts her stance, pushing her thigh forward and between Santana's legs. Santana breaks the kiss suddenly with a sharp gasp, and her hips jerk forward, pushing against Brittany's firm thigh. Brittany looks into Santana's dark eyes, knowing her own are hazy and clouded over with lust, and wonders if she went too far- but the way Santana is rutting against her, rubbing her clothed sex against Brittany's thigh, reassures her. Pausing for only a second, Santana dives in and attacks Brittany's neck, sucking hard, and Brittany is thankful Cheerios practice is over, because she knows Santana's leaving a bruise- so not subtle- that she'll have to cover up. She's shocked- Santana's never left a mark before, and Brittany's heart flutters involuntarily at the thought that Santana is claiming her, making her hers.

Brittany moans, tightening her grip on Santana's ass, as Santana's teeth bite into her neck as she sucks. She pulls Santana tight to her thigh, tensing her quads, and tilts her head back against the support beam she's leaning against. She can feel how hot and wet Santana's sex is against her bare skin. She can smell Santana's arousal, feel how she's soaked through her Spanx, and it only makes Brittany throb harder, knowing Santana is as turned on as she is.

Santana's hips move insistently against her, and Brittany aches for friction herself, but is enjoying the pleasured moans that Santana's making too much to risk breaking whatever spell they've fallen under. Santana pants into her mouth and Brittany kisses her, letting their tongues meet. Santana's jerky thrusts are becoming more erratic, more desperate, and Brittany can practically feel the tension building in Santana. She can feel her building up to something, but she can't be about to come- can she? Brittany moans at the thought and pulls Santana firmly against her thigh, kissing her hungrily.

After long, intense moments, Santana breaks the kiss and pulls away, and Brittany feels her stomach drop with disappointment, expecting it to be over. She's pleasantly surprised when Santana presses one more gentle kiss to her lips, and then she's just confused as Santana guides her to turn around, so that she's facing the support beam. Weren't they supposed to be making out?

But then Santana fits her hips against Brittany's ass, and the strangled moan Santana releases at the contact makes her forget everything else. Santana ruts against her ass, and even through two pairs of undergarments, Brittany can feel her warmth and her wetness. The obscene rustling of the damn fabric as it drags against her makes her stomach tighten with want, and she swallows, resting her forehead against the beam and gripping onto it tightly.

Santana's thrusts become increasingly more animalistic, her hands curving around Brittany's hips, her fingers sliding and resting along the V of her stomach, just under the waistband of her Cheerios skirt. Brittany shivers at Santana's warm fingertips pressing into her bare skin- Santana's never touched her there before, and the heated contact makes her moan, pushing her ass back into Santana's thrusts.

It's hard to hear Santana over the sound of her own panting and blood rushing in her ears, but she catches snatches of Santana mumbling against her shoulder as Santana's grip tightens even further around her waist. (She's sure she's going to have bruises along her hips, but she doesn't care- she'll be thankful for the reminder that this even happened.)

"Fuck, B, you feel so good," Santana mutters hoarsely from behind her, her breath coming in heavy pants. "Ugh- your ass is so hot."

Brittany shakes. The ache between her legs has become painful, and she wishes she could just reach down and touch herself. It wouldn't take much- she'd maybe have to stroke herself twice, and she'd come so hard. She bites her lip, resisting. She doesn't want to risk anything stopping what's happening. She has no clue why Santana has decided to use her in this way- she's pretty sure if Santana was that turned on, she could've relieved herself in the shower or even in her car; it's not unheard of, Brittany's done it plenty of times- but she loves the fact that she's making Santana feel good, even though she's doing nothing but letting Santana have her ass, letting Santana use her for her own pleasure.

"I'm gonna come," Santana pants, barely audible. "Fuck, gonna come all over your ass, B-"

Brittany wants to say something, wants to respond, but instead she bites her lip harder. She hears Santana's heavy breaths speed up behind her- she wishes she could watch Santana come, ugh- and then hears Santana's sharp gasp of release against her shoulder. Santana's hips jolt forward suddenly and freeze, pressing hard against her for a long, tense moment and then rolling slightly. She can feel Santana shaking through her orgasm, her forehead pressed between her shoulder blades, her fingers digging into her hips, and Brittany whimpers as her clit throbs, throbs, throbs, fuck-

She's so close. She's wet- ready. She wonders if Santana would really mind if she just touched herself for a second- just a second- but then the warmth on her back is gone, and Santana is pulling away. Brittany takes a deep, shaky breath and turns. She swallows, not having noticed her mouth had gone completely dry. It's silent for a moment.

"Do you feel better?" Brittany asks, offering Santana a sweet, genuine smile despite the desire pounding through her entire body. After all, that is why Santana just humped her ass, right? Because she was tense?

"Look, I don't know what you think just happened, but Puck's been leaving me frustrated lately," Santana says harshly and unnecessarily, her eyes hard and cold. Brittany blinks. Who said anything about Puck? "It has nothing to do with you," she adds, reaching up to fix her immaculate ponytail, despite the fact that it isn't messed up in the slightest.

"Um." Brittany's unsure how to respond. Her arousal is gone thanks to Santana's words, but she's still sticky between her legs. She fidgets nervously, uncomfortably. "Okay."

Santana drops her hard expression and sighs, her brown eyes softening. "Come here. Turn around." Brittany does, obediently, and swallows as she feels Santana reach up and tug her ponytail free, then re-gather her hair and tie it back up, her fingers gentle, loving even-

"I just don't want you getting the wrong idea, all right?" Santana says softly from behind her as she fixes Brittany's hair. "I mean, I'm not gay or anything."

Brittany remains silent. She's not sure what to say. She's completely confused. She never said Santana was gay-

"You know that, right?" Santana presses as Brittany turns back around to face her. "That I'm not gay?"

"Of course, Santana," Brittany mutters, lowering her eyes obediently. She looks up bravely after a moment. "But even if you were-"

"But I'm not, so let's drop it," she snaps. "I have a boyfriend. A boyfriend who, if he plays his cards right, might even get to second base tonight." Santana grins slyly, her expression transforming into a familiar predatory one.

Brittany forces a smile. "Cool."

"Ugh- look, I've gotta go," Santana says, like some emergency just came up, even though Brittany knows nothing did. She swallows and nods.

"Sure. Um- call me tonight, after?"

Santana grins, reaching out to link their pinkies, and giving Brittany's a soft squeeze. "Of course, B." Then she releases her and saunters away, and Brittany watches her go for a moment, shaking her head.


Sometimes, Brittany wonders if Santana actually thinks she's fooling anyone- but then she answers her own question.

Santana's anything but subtle.

And that's it! Short and not-so-sweet because Santana's kind of a bitch, but we will forgive her for it, right? She comes around eventually. (Pun intendeddddd)

Well, review if you feel like it, but if you don't, then proceed directly to read crammit's story. She totally did this position better justice than me!


If you are a closeted lesbian, and wish to remain so, it's probably not a good idea to dry-hump a girl out in the open.

However, if you do decide to, or even if you're an out-and-proud lesbo who gives no fucks and will dry-hump a bitch all day up under some bleachers or anywhere, my advice to you is this:

Bring a change of underwear. It's not particularly comfortable (or hygienic) walking around in soaking wet panties. (Although, as with everything, some people enjoy that feeling, in which case, more power to you.)