Summary: Fill for the GKM. "Santana can feel Brittany's wedding ring on her finger, and she wonders, yet again, if her life can get any more perfect." Honeymoon!Brittana. Marathon!sex. Fluff everywhere. :')

Warning: Two girls. Havin' a lot of sex. And there's a strap-on. And stuff. :D

A/N: OH HI EVERYONE! Happy Freaky Friday! ;) I actually finished this yesterday buuuuut I was too lazy to post it. Sorry. But here it is! This could be seen as a sort-of sequel to my other story, Last Chance, but there's really no reference to it, and you don't need to read that bad boy in order to understand this one.

But I like to think of the two as companions. :')

This shit is fluffy, because fuck Dantana, man. Ain't nobody got time for that. Brittana is endgame.

This story is dedicated to my favorite lurker, Hawaiian Ryan, for being awesome and also for being a lurker. You're an awesome lurker! :')

Happy wanking! 8)~

Santana takes a deep, relaxed breath and lets it out, enjoying the smells and sounds of the ocean a few yards away, the warm breeze, the shade of her umbrella and the chill of the wine cooler in her hand. The crashing of waves lulls her into a sunbaked sort of half-stupor, and her limbs feel warm and heavy. She's completely content and tranquil, and she honestly wonders if her life can get any more perfect. She's pretty sure she's going to wake up at any moment and be back in Junior year, pining over a woman- the woman who's now her wife.

Her wife- she still can't believe it.

Beneath her dark, wide sunglasses, she lets her gaze travel a few yards away, where Brittany is aggressively involved in a fierce game of beach volleyball with a group of foreign guys. If this was Junior year, Santana would feel jealousy- but the glint of the sun on her wedding ring, warm and smooth on her left hand, reminds her that she doesn't need to feel that way anymore- and she hasn't for years. All she feels is secure, and she smiles as she traces her eyes over her wife's lithe form as she plays.

Brittany's smile is nearly blinding, overpowering the shine of the sun in Santana's opinion-

Santana rolls her eyes at herself. Really? I have to be that cheesy?

But as she continues to watch Brittany move, flawlessly sending the ball over the net and scoring a point for her team, Santana decides she doesn't care how cheesy she sounds. She's in love, and she's on her honeymoon with the woman she loves, and if anyone's entitled to be cheesy, it's her. She's earned it. She's been through a lot- they both have. But in the end, here they are- together. Married.


Brittany's smile is infectious, and Santana finds herself smiling at how joyous Brittany is from just being involved in the game. Her smile belies the competitiveness Santana knows rests inside her; she can see the hard edge in Brittany's sparkling blue eyes and cheerful expression, can see the assertiveness behind her movements- and it's actually really hot.

Santana traces her eyes down Brittany's body, her smile falling slightly as she takes in the incredibly sexy view. Sweat glistens on Brittany's sun-tanned skin, her shoulders dotted with dark freckles and a slight streak of red that fades to brown. Santana's mouth feels dry, but she can't help but admire the liquid power of Brittany's muscles, or the sinful way her abs ripple as she twists to reach the ball, or the power of her arms as she spikes it and sends it slamming into the sand on the other side of the net. Her long, toned legs remind Santana of the feeling of having them wrapped around her just last night, and she shivers, licking her lips. They hadn't stopped making love since they'd arrived at the secluded cottage on this private beach two days ago, but even still, Santana can't get enough of her beautiful wife.

She doesn't think she ever will.

A loud cry of victory goes up from Brittany, and Santana's grin returns as she watches her high-five the guys on her team enthusiastically. She can hear snatches of conversation in a language she doesn't really understand, but it doesn't bother her. The five men are staying in the cottage next to theirs, at least a half-mile down the beach, but it just so happens that the volleyball net is closer to their own cottage, and the guys had brokenly asked for their permission to use it earlier, even though they technically didn't have ownership over it. The five of them had been nice enough, and Santana hadn't felt particularly threatened by them-

A loud splash surprises her and her gaze follows her wife as she leaps into the water to cool off quickly. She watches Brittany splash around for a few moments before her mind wanders again. She kind of feels like she's floating on a cloud- a warm, beautiful cloud in a wonderful dream, where she has the woman she's always wanted, and she's peaceful and relaxed and so, so in love-

Brittany dropping down onto the towel beside her brings her out of her thoughts, and she smiles at Brittany's glowing expression. The smell of suntan lotion, salt from the ocean, and sweat invades Santana's nose as Brittany leans over her to reach a bottle of water from the small cooler they'd brought. Mixed drops of frigid and warm water hit her bare stomach, dripping from Brittany's arm and the water bottle as Brittany brings it towards her, and she jumps slightly, unprepared for the sudden stimulation.

Their eyes meet, and they stare at each other, the comfortable atmosphere quickly growing charged with familiar tension that always appears whenever they are together, and hasn't weakened over time. Santana's eyes follow the way drops of water trickle down Brittany's chest. She aches to kiss them from Brittany's collarbone, to taste the way the salt of the water mixed with Brittany's skin sting her tongue- but instead she blushes and shyly averts her gaze, reaching to hand her wife a towel. When she looks up, she sees Brittany grinning at her, and Santana can tell from the playful look that Brittany knows exactly what she's thinking as she leans forward- not quite pushing past the friendly barrier into something more intimate- and openly stares at Santana's lips.
Oblivious to their small five-membered audience, Santana closes the gap, brushing her lips against her wife's. The towel falls, forgotten, to the blanket.

"Kiss me," she murmurs, sliding her hand on top of Brittany's, heart pounding from the close proximity. She half-closes her eyes and tilts her head, offering herself, offering her lips.

Brittany's grin falters a little, and she swallows. "But- those guys-" she says softly, and Santana's heart flutters in adoration. Even after all this time, Brittany still respects her uneasiness with public displays of affection.

"-Can blow me," she growls, slipping her hand up to cradle the back of Brittany's neck. "I want to kiss my wife."

Brittany laughs a little, but it's cut off as their lips finally meet. Santana can feel her smiling against her, and she smiles in return. She's proud to be kissing Brittany in public- even though they are on a private beach- and it's still exciting showing off that Brittany is hers.
They kiss slowly, exploring each other's mouths. Brittany cups her chin with one hand, the other sliding up her bare arm, her strong fingers leaving tingles as they smooth over her sun-warmed skin. She can hear the surprised comments of the foreign guys a few yards away, and their tone makes her smile wider and pull Brittany closer. Let them look. Brittany is her wife, and she's not afraid. Not anymore.

After long moments, she pulls back with a soft smack, noticing the way Brittany's eyes stay closed in bliss even after the kiss ends. When blue eyes finally open, they're dark, and Santana feels her pulse quicken in response. She leans in to kiss her again, but is stopped by the loud growling of Brittany's stomach.

They pause, and Brittany giggles. Santana smiles softly, her brown eyes sparkling in adoration. Wordlessly, they rise from the blanket, and Santana smiles as Brittany slips her left hand into her right. She can feel Brittany's wedding ring on her finger; it makes her heart feel as if it might burst, and she wonders, yet again, if her life can get any more perfect.

She hopes she never leaves this cloud.

Less than ten minutes later they are kissing heatedly in the kitchen. Santana has Brittany pressed against the counter as she invades her mouth with her tongue, her hands freely roaming up and down bare, toned thighs. Brittany's hands rest on her lower back, stroking up and down the strong arch and just barely dipping below her bikini bottoms, teasing the skin there.

They'd originally looked in the fridge to find something to eat, but after teasingly feeding each other various pieces of sliced fruit from a bowl, the pent-up, tense energy from earlier crashed over them again, and before they could think better on it, their mouths pressed together fervently, their bikini-clad bodies following suit.

The feel of all of Brittany's skin, still retaining its heat from the sun, pressed against her own warm skin makes Santana moan in Brittany's mouth, her hands wasting no time in reaching to untie the strings of Brittany's bikini top. The small scrap of fabric comes away with no resistance, and Santana glides her tongue down Brittany's chest, tasting salt both from the ocean and Brittany's sweat. Her skin smells like suntan lotion and her own unique scent, and Santana moans again as she sucks Brittany's nipple into her mouth.

"Ugh- San," Brittany moans, leaning her head back and tangling fingers in Santana's hair. Santana's mouth moves lower, tongue licking a line down the center of her abs, around her bellybutton, and over to the V of her hips. Seconds later, Santana's fingers hook into Brittany's bikini bottoms and tug, and the garment makes it to Brittany's knees before Santana's tongue slides between Brittany's strong, tense thighs.

Brittany releases another low groan as Santana gently pushes her thighs apart; Brittany widens her stance the best she can, considering her bikini bottoms are still tangled somewhere around her knees, and she grips the countertop behind her for support as Santana buries her tongue inside her.

Santana moans against slick flesh- Brittany's so wet just from kissing, and despite the fact that she wants to take her time, she can't resist reaching up to slip two fingers into Brittany's tight heat. She pumps in and out slowly a few times, but Brittany's loud moans of pleasure encourage her, and her pace quickens. She leans forward to stroke Brittany's hard clit with her tongue, and it doesn't take long until Brittany's thighs begin to shake.

"Fuck, I'm close," Brittany pants, her grip on Santana's hair tightening.

Santana moans and pulls back. Brittany barely has a second to protest before Santana's guiding her to the kitchen floor, her fingers pushing in harder, deeper, and Brittany wraps legs around Santana's waist as Santana fucks her, resting her forehead on Brittany's stomach, her dark hair tickling the skin of her hips.

"Oh, god- San-"

The sound of Brittany's cries growing increasingly more desperate spur her to move her mouth lower again, and she licks strongly over Brittany's clit a few times as her hand works between Brittany's legs. It only takes a few more thrusts before Brittany's falling apart, gasping, her voice hoarse, and as she shakes, Santana moves up to kiss her.

Still shivering, Brittany slides her right hand down Santana's stomach and under her bikini bottoms, not even bothering to pull them off as she drives two fingers into her ready and eager wife. Santana's kiss grows more passionate and she rocks her hips, riding Brittany's hand desperately as her breaths grow ragged and heavy.

"Yeah, Britt, fuck, you feel so good," Santana pants into her wife's mouth, loving the way Brittany feels inside her. Sometimes she wonders if she was made to ride Brittany's fingers- they always know exactly how to touch her, how to make her feel good. When Brittany curls them and hits that spot, Santana feels herself right at the edge. A few more sharp thrusts and she falls apart, trembling, still kissing Brittany.

"I love you," Brittany breathes between kisses from beneath her, slipping her hand out of Santana's bikini to wrap arms around her waist and pull her down flush against her.

"I love you, too," Santana gasps in response, shivering and running her fingers through Brittany's messy hair. "So much."

Another loud growl from Brittany's stomach interrupts their moment, and this time it's Santana's turn to giggle as she rests her head against Brittany's shoulder.

"But maybe I should feed you before allowing you to engage in any more strenuous activity," she teases, leaning up to press a kiss to Brittany's cheek.

Brittany just smiles sheepishly.

Santana doesn't know what it is about Brittany that's got her so wound up- maybe it's the knowledge that they are now married, that Brittany is now her wife, to have and to hold, as long as they both shall live or whatever- or maybe it's the fact that they've been spending every minute of the past two days together in a cottage on the beach, far away from their friends and family, and honestly, she had a hard enough time resisting Brittany in just their apartment to begin with- or maybe it's the fact that Brittany can't seem to keep her hands off of her, either, and keeps giving her those looks- but regardless of the why, all Santana knows is that she feels an underlying throb of desire every time she even glances at her wife.

So it's no surprise when, two hours later as they are walking along the beach, their fingers tangled together between them, the surf just barely lapping at their feet, Santana looks at Brittany and suddenly can't breathe.

She's perfection.

The sun is starting to set along the horizon, and the orange and red and yellow glow on Brittany's skin and reflected in Brittany's blue eyes makes Santana stop, tugging Brittany's hand back. Their eyes meet.

"Britt…" she starts, breathless. Her chest aches.

"Santana," Brittany breathes hoarsely, her eyes darkening with recognition at the look on her wife's face. She licks her lips. "Right now?"

Santana bites her lip briefly before she steps forward and cups Brittany's cheeks, pulling her close and kissing her deeply. Brittany releases her hand and instead slides arms around her waist, pressing their bodies together tightly. "I just want you," Santana whispers against Brittany's lips, her heart racing, and seconds later Brittany's dropping her to the sand on her back, her right hand sliding beneath Santana's thin beach wrap and bikini bottoms. She moans at how hot and slick Santana is as she drives into her at a steady pace.

"Shit, you're so wet," Brittany groans, pushing deeper, pressing closer.

Santana spreads her legs, curling up, wrapping her thigh around Brittany's lower back, wrapping her arms around Brittany's shoulders. "Kiss me," she begs, already struggling for air, and Brittany does, murmuring an I love you in between.

All Santana can hear is the crashing of the waves and the sounds of Brittany's breaths. All she can see is the blue of Brittany's eyes, the colors in the sky, and the way the sun's dying rays make Brittany seem to glow above her. All she can feel is the warm sand beneath her and Brittany's warmer fingers inside her. Santana can't imagine experiencing anything more perfect-

It doesn't take Santana long to come, and she does- hard, her chest aching with so much love she fears it might explode; maybe it is possible to get a heart attack from loving too much, because she loves Brittany so, so much.

Brittany presses kisses to her chin as she slows the movement of her hand, and Santana shudders, pulling her closer, trying to catch her breath as her aftershocks pulse through her, her skin humming with pleasant tingles. She doesn't tear her gaze from Brittany's eyes as the sun continues to set, and even with the warmth of the sun disappearing, the warmth of Brittany keeps her comfortable and secure. She stares up at the darkening sky, at the clouds, and sighs.

When they finally sit up, Santana laughs at the sand sticking to her skin. "I need a shower, now."

Brittany grins wolfishly, her blue eyes glinting with mischief. "That can be arranged."

It's still the most incredible shower she's ever been in- even if it does make it harder to have sex.
It's an outside situation, and seems more like showering in a small waterfall than an actual shower stall. The water is, thankfully, warmer than it would be in a real waterfall, and with the stars above them and various plants and small trees situated around them, it really does feel like they are in some tropical paradise. Whoever designed this place must've gotten so much ass, she thinks as Brittany kisses her. She wraps her arms around her neck, reveling in the fact that they are both completely naked and wet.

Brittany's tongue is in her mouth, coaxing moans up from her throat, and fuck, she will never get tired of kissing Brittany as long as she lives. Brittany's hands grope her ass and caress her thighs, and Santana can't believe how turned on she is, despite the fact that she's had Brittany numerous times throughout the day. She rubs herself against her wife- her wife; she will never get tired of saying that- and loves the way Brittany's smooth, wet skin feels against her. She runs her hands over Brittany's back, tracing the muscles in her shoulders and lower back.

Tilting her head to deepen the kiss even further, Santana can't resist sliding her hand around to Brittany's stomach, which tenses and quivers at her touch. Brittany moans in her mouth, and Santana feels a hard throb of arousal shoot straight between her legs, making her sex ache. She can't believe she wants Brittany so much- again.

Her hand slides lower, and she slips a finger down to tease at Brittany's entrance, which is already dripping with more than just the water from the shower.

"Fuck, Santana," Brittany whimpers, dropping her forehead to Santana's shoulder. She opens her mouth and sucks there, biting gently, leaving a faint mark, and the slightly painful pleasure incites Santana to push her fingers inside, feeling the way Brittany's sex grips at them tightly.

She starts up a slow rhythm, taking her time and spreading her fingers, twisting them, making sure to hit all of Brittany's sweet spots. Brittany pants against her neck, and all the while the warm water of the waterfall shower splashes over them, all the while the light from the stars shines over them, and as Santana drives her fingers deeper, curling them, she hugs Brittany closer to her and feels that breaking feeling coming over her chest again.

She loves Brittany so, so much.

The feeling of Brittany's fingers pressing inside her makes her choke out a moan, and she hugs Brittany tighter, widening her stance a little. It feels so good having Brittany so close to her. It feels better than she ever imagined, having Brittany married to her after everything they'd been through. She'd never given up on them.

She'd never let Brittany go.

Brittany gasps against her, telling her she's close, and Santana works her thumb over Brittany's clit to help bring her over the edge. When Brittany comes, she bites into Santana's shoulder gently, her fingers pressing into Santana's back, and her other hand stilling between Santana's legs. Santana holds her while she shakes, taking most of her weight against her and kissing the side of her face until she straightens up.

A fierce, sudden kiss makes Santana's legs weak, and when Brittany lifts her easily, she wraps legs around the taller girl's waist. Her slick sex presses against Brittany's bare stomach, and both of them groan as Brittany reaches to shut the water off. Still kissing, they make their way blindly back into the house and into the bedroom, where Santana ends up on the bed, on her back again.

Brittany kisses a hot trail down her stomach before she lifts up to meet Santana's gaze.

"I'll be right back," she breathes before kissing the smooth expanse of skin just beneath Santana's stomach, and then before Santana can respond, she's up and moving to the bathroom, still gloriously naked.

Santana takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, willing herself to calm down. She can feel herself almost trembling with anticipation, the excitement vibrating through her almost like an electric current.

When Brittany returns wearing their strap-on, Santana swallows, tracing her gaze over Brittany's naked form. Brittany climbs onto the bed and swiftly kisses her, reaching up to slowly trace circles on Santana's bare shoulder with her thumb. Their tongues meet slowly, and Santana tangles her fingers in Brittany's hair, pulling her closer. Their breasts press together, hard nipples rubbing against each other's, and Santana groans low in her throat as she feels the hardness of the dildo push against her thigh.

The breathless, heavy feeling returns to her chest (heart attack), her stomach fluttering and tightening with anticipation and arousal as Brittany shifts between her legs. Their mouths never part as Brittany reaches down to guide the head of the dildo to Santana's entrance, and Santana gasps at the feeling, spreading her legs, giving herself to her wife, giving everything to her wife.

She feels Brittany sink into her slowly, and she stares into Brittany's eyes as she takes every inch. When Brittany's hips finally meet hers, she wraps her legs around Brittany's thighs and slides hands up to grip Brittany's back.

(Heart attack.)

Brittany's hands slip under her shoulders, and they kiss again, this time more aggressively, both of them adoring the feeling of being so close, so intimate. When Brittany finally moves against her, it's slow and deep; Santana feels every movement, every inch of the dildo as it pulls out and pushes back in, every flex of the muscles in Brittany's legs, Brittany's arms, Brittany's abs. She hears every heavy breath exhaled from Brittany's mouth against her own, every rustle of the sheets, every squeak of the mattress.

Santana feels like she's floating somewhere off in space, like she's not in her own body, like she's back on that cloud. Every inch of her skin feels alive and warm, like it's on fire but without the pain. Every breath that leaves her chest is heavy and thick with the love that aches there. Every tense of her thighs is accompanied by the tight throbbing of her sex as Brittany moves there, filling her completely. She can feel her orgasm building everywhere, and her grip tightens almost painfully on Brittany the closer she gets. This is it- she might actually explode.

She loves Brittany so, so much.

She presses closer, closer, wishing to be even closer; she tightens her legs around Brittany's, bucking her hips up to meet Brittany's thrusts, and when Brittany kisses below her ear and darts her tongue there a second later, she feels herself falling, falling from her cloud to crash into the bed. Her body arches up off the bed as much as possible with Brittany's weighing her down; her orgasm rips through her, her thighs shaking, and all the while Brittany continues to move inside her, moaning at the way the strap-on suddenly rubs against her harder due to the increased pressure.

"So beautiful," Brittany breathes against her neck, her thrusts becoming jerky and more erratic as Santana's walls continue to squeeze around the dildo.

"You gonna come for me, baby?" Santana gasps, playing with the slightly damp hair on the back of Brittany's neck as she shivers and rides out her aftershocks, letting Brittany continue to fuck her. Brittany's hips move faster and she nods sharply, and Santana listens to her ragged panting, her breaths warm against her ear. Santana keeps talking, encouraging Brittany with some dirty words that she knows will bring her over the edge. She squeezes her inner muscles, putting even more pressure on the strap-on that she knows will put pressure on Brittany's clit- and then Brittany's coming hard, her hips rutting forward sharply as her orgasm hits her.

Brittany buries her face in Santana's neck, her arms tightening around Santana's shoulders, pressing their bodies together. Falling limply against Santana, Brittany struggles to catch her breath, and Santana holds her close, still feeling Brittany inside her, still feeling Brittany against her fully. She traces lazy circles on Brittany's sweaty back, enjoying the way their limbs are tangled and the way the weight of Brittany's body presses her down. She'll never tire of being so intimate with Brittany. (Maybe she didn't fall from her cloud after all- she still feels like she's floating.)

They kiss again, and, after pulling out and removing the harness, Brittany curls up against her, exhausted, and they fall asleep to the sound of each other's steady, calm breaths.

Santana wakes up alone in the morning, naked and warm, and sits up. She stretches, feeling a pleasant soreness between her legs and in her inner thighs, and she smiles stupidly. She's long since abandoned the fear of Brittany being gone in the morning. Those fears died in college, and now that she's awake, she can smell coffee. Still naked and smiling, she makes her way out to the kitchen to locate her wife.

She finds Brittany lying on a chaise lounge on the sandy, wooden deck of the cottage which eventually turns to beach, wearing a long unbuttoned shirt and nothing else, a cup of coffee on the small table beside her. Smiling wider, she opens the front door and slips outside, and Brittany turns to look at her appreciatively. Their eyes meet, and Brittany returns her smile, her eyes soft and shining with the light of the morning sun.

(Heart attack.)

Brittany's smile doesn't fade, not even when Santana straddles her on the chaise lounge and begins kissing her neck gently, her lips just barely grazing the sensitive skin.

"You're giving the beach a free show," Brittany whispers, smoothing her hands up Santana's naked back.

Santana jerks her head, tossing her hair over her shoulder, and grins. "All those people on the beach?" she teases as she kisses down Brittany's collarbone, knowing full well that the beach is completely deserted, especially during this early hour.

"Mmhm," Brittany hums, squeezing Santana's ass, pulling her hips down against her. Santana smiles against Brittany's chest, daring her kisses lower, across toned abs that tighten under her lips, and a flat stomach. She pushes Brittany's thighs apart and kisses a slow, tantalizing path down her folds. She darts her tongue out teasingly, just barely dipping her tongue into Brittany's entrance, which is already slick with arousal, and then licks up to circle around Brittany's hard and throbbing clit. Above her, Brittany moans her name and writhes, lacing her fingers into her hair, and Santana settles into her position, pressing kisses up and down Brittany's inner thighs, driving her wife insane.

Brittany whimpers when she sucks her clit; begs when she laps at her entrance; curses when she finally relents and begins to lick her strongly, keeping a steady rhythm that she knows will give her wife the release she needs.

Santana sighs when Brittany comes in her mouth, loving the way Brittany's grip tightens in her hair but never grows painful, and the way Brittany tastes right after. With lips wet from Brittany's orgasm, she kisses her way back up Brittany's body, ending with a slow, languid kiss on her lips. She nibbles, she sucks gently, she lets their tongue rub together; she lies on top of her wife and just kisses her, basking in her warmth and proximity and scent, so early in the morning.

Sighing again, she snuggles down against Brittany, resting her head on Brittany's shoulder, and just enjoys being close to her. She's floating.

"What?" Brittany asks softly, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"I'm just- really happy, Britt," Santana admits, tracing a heart on Brittany's chest, right above Brittany's own heart.

"Me too," Brittany whispers quietly into Santana's hair. "I always hoped for this, you know..."

The heart-attack feeling returns to Santana's chest. She swallows. "Yeah?"

"Mmhm. I always wanted this to be our ending."

Overwhelmed, Santana kisses Brittany's knuckles and before she even realizes she's crying, Brittany reaches to wipe her tear away.

"I love you so much," Brittany breathes hoarsely, meeting Santana's eyes.

"I love you, too," Santana says with a watery smile, "and now I get to spend the rest of my life counting your smiles."

"They're all for you, Santana. All of me is yours- proudly so."

Santana doesn't think she'll ever come down from her cloud.


Brittana are so precious and perfect- just go on without me, okay? I can't. ;_;

DANTANA CAN FUCK THE HELL OFF, I'mma keep right on shippin' Brittana until my dying day, and then I'mma ship them from the grave. HOLLA!

ANYWAYS. Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a review if you have some feelings, but if you don't, or if you have too many, I understand, and I'll just catch you on the next one.


Sex on the beach SOUNDS really awesome- UNTIL YOU GET SAND IN YOUR WAHUHU. Do yourself a favor and just wait until you get home.

(And for that matter, don't do it in the ocean, either. Salt in your wahuhu is just as bad.)

Also, no matter how private that beach you're on is, there's always the off-chance that there's some creep in a dinghy out there with a telescope. Pervin' on you. Keep it indoors.

Unless you're into that sort of thing.

Then, have at it. Literally. ;)


****story title is lyrics from the Black-Eyed Peas song "Just Can't Get Enough", but the Boyce Avenue cover of the song is better, and is my favorite. :')