A/N: This is pure smut. Written for the glee_kink_meme on LJ, with this prompt:

"Brittany and Santana argue over what to call Santana's new strap-on, bonus points if they then argue over who gets to wear it."

I swear to god, I'm done procrastinating on Influence now.

"Thor."

"No."

"Hercules."

"No."

"Brad Pitt?"

Santana pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut in frustration. Brittany was looking down at the open box on Santana's bed, her head cocked slightly to the left and her brow furrowed in heavy concentration. She was completely nude, aside from the black lace thong that ran along the accentuated hip bone jutting from her pelvis, covering only the smallest area possible. Santana, for her part, had been able to restrain herself and remained fully clothed in her Cheerios uniform while sitting on her bed, her legs extended out in front of her. She watched her girlfriend puzzle over the open cardboard box at her feet, standing near the edge of bed with her hands on her bare hips.

The box had arrived at Santana's doorstep that afternoon, the product of a late-night shopping spree that had been fueled (for the most part) by Jack Daniels and adolescent curiosity. Brittany had been so insistent that the item in question be pink that she had had to eat Santana out under her desk while the shorter girl had her legs spread, her heels up on the desk while one hand was on the back of Brittany's head and the other clicking "Confirm Purchase" on the computer monitor.

Now, a week and a hundred and fifty of her father's dollars later (she would have a lot to explain when the credit card bill came round), Santana was nothing if not impressed with the item that lay splayed in nondescript packaging across her grandmother's quilt.

"Brittany," she said with a huff, grabbing the girl by the wrist and pulling her into her lap on the bed. "We're not giving a pink strap-on dildo some guy's name. It seems… wrong. Look at it."

Santana reached into the box and pulled the dildo out, running her hands over the length. It wasn't extraordinarily large, and of moderate girth. But to both of them, who had only experienced the inadequacies of the boys at McKinley High, it might as well have been a horse cock. To make matters more confusing it was pink and had a sort of phosphorescent glow to it. The base was twice the diameter of the shaft, flat, and meant to fit in the harness, which remained shapeless in the box. It was made of a combination of stretchable, swimsuit-like material and mesh, which the website had assured Santana was the most comfortable harness available. She had taken their word for it, and here it was, taunting her with its complicated series of straps and clasps, rings and pouches for dildos, bullets and extraneous toys.

Seriously, she thought. How do lesbians ever have sex? By the time they get done putting it all on, they must be exhausted.

But Brittany had wanted to try it. And what Brittany wanted, Santana went to the ends of the earth to accommodate. Or, in this case, the ends of the internet.

Brittany pressed her nearly bare ass against Santana's pelvis and pouted, pulling her girlfriend's arms around her waist and taking the heavy rubber phallus in her hands. She turned it over, end on end, inspecting it. Santana couldn't help my swallow a knot in her throat, watching Brittany handle the fake cock with extreme care, her long finger wrapping around the shaft with practiced ease.

She reached a tentative hand down Brittany's naked abdomen, sliding her fingers over familiar skin until she hit the juncture between the girl's legs. Santana slid her fingers in between those milky, muscular thighs and gently pushed the thin fabric of the thong out of the way before slipping her index finger deftly inside her girlfriend. Brittany spread her legs wide, planting one foot on either side of Santana's outstretched legs and pressing her back against Santana's chest firmly, using her and her sitting position against the headboard of the bed as leverage to lift her hips into Santana's hand. Brittany nearly dropped the dildo as she raised and lowered her pelvis, grinding up into waiting fingers and pressing down into expectant hips. Santana groaned, both with the feeling of the tight wetness around her finger and the proximity of Brittany's naked body to her clothed one.

"Do you really think this thing," Santana started, pressing warm lips to Brittany's ear and taking her free and running it down Britt's arm to wrap her fingers around the base of the dildo in the blonde's hands. "Should be given a man's name? When has a man ever made you feel as good as I have?"

Brittany moaned softly and bit her lip, riding harder as Santana slipped a second and then third finger deep inside her folds. She shook her head and arched her back, craning her neck over her shoulder so her mouth could meet Santana's. She wanted so desperately for both of them to be naked, and even more desperately for the new toy in her hands to be put to good use. Instead, she was using it as a stress reliever, her fist tightening and loosening around the shaft with each deep thrust of fingers into her heated core, and she moaned at the sensation of the rubber warming in her hands.

Santana reached up, trying to pry it from Brittany's fingers, but the blonde pulled it out of her reach and, much to Santana's disappointment, gripped her curved wrist and pulled her fingers from inside of her as well. Brittany groaned herself, feeling empty in the spot where Santana had once occupied her most personal space. She leaned forward on to her knees and turned her body around so she was straddling Santana once again, this time facing her.

"It's not fair," she said, still maintaining her earlier pout. "That I'm here getting teased while you have all your clothes on. Take them off."

Before Santana could move to comply with the command, Brittany had set the dildo aside and yanked her Cheerios top over her head. Her ponytail was beyond repair, so she pulled the elastic band from it and allowed her hair to fall in cascades over her shoulders while her girlfriend fumbled with the zipper at her side. Pulling it down, Brittany tapped Santana's hip, prompting her to lift her pelvis so the skirt could come off more easily. Despite her someone domineering personality at school, Santana couldn't help but find it incredibly sexy when Brittany took charge and undressed her, or pinned her to the bed, or…

She was snapped back to attention by Brittany roughly yanking her spanks down over her thighs while the blonde crouched above her legs, the thong still pushed to the side and leaving nothing to the imagination. Santana groaned at the sight of her girlfriend's glistening center, and she reached out instinctually to touch her. Brittany smacked her hand playfully and wagged her index finger back and forth.

"Nuh uh," she chided softly, kneeling down and straddling Santana so that their two heats were pressed so close together it could have burned them both. "You promised we'd pick out a name, Sanny."

Brittany had always been far more flexible than Santana, so when the dancer arched her body backward, her hips still pinning Santana in her sitting position on the bed, and reached behind her to pull the nearly forgotten harness from the box, Santana should not have been surprised. But, as she watched the lithe, pale body flex and sway with the motion, Santana groaned and ground her hips into Brittany's.

"I did promise you that," Santana mumbled, still watching the muscles in Brittany's stomach contracting as she came back into a kneeling position in front of her. The harness in her hand seemed to take on a life of its own as Brittany played with the straps, adjusting and readjusting until she was sure the loops she'd somehow created were small enough for either one of them. The dildo appeared in her hand a moment later, and Santana watched as she slipped the thing through the binding on the harness and docked the dildo in place.

"Looks about ready, doesn't she?" Brittany asked with a sly grin. "But I can't put her on until we name her."

"You mean I can't put her on," Santana corrected, reaching out to try and take the contraption from Brittany's hands, but the blonde yanked it away.

"That's what I said," she replied, smirking. "I can't put her on."

A cloud crossed Santana's face. She had paid for the damn thing, and now she wasn't even allowed to get the inaugural ride? It was absolutely unacceptable, as far as she was concerned. She wrapped one arm around Brittany's waist and pulled her close, their breasts pressing together. "We're going to argue about a name and who gets to wear the damn thing, B?"

Brittany nodded. "Why should you get all the fun?" she asked innocently, batting her lashes over those irresistible blue eyes. "You like it when I top you just as much as when you're topping me. Don't deny it."

"I'm not," Santana purred into her lover's ear, tracing her tongue down the exterior shell and over her jaw line, making Brittany tremble. "But you love being topped more than you like topping."

Brittany smirked and slipped her hand in between them, holding the harness to the juncture of her crotch to show Santana what it would look like if she was allowed to wear the thing. "Sure, but I've never had Aphrodite before."

"Aphrodite?" Santana cocked her head to one side, trying to be casual in her glances between both of their legs. Seeing Brittany with the large phallus protruding from her nether region made her wet in ways she'd not experienced before, but she wasn't about to give up the fight so easily.

The blonde nodded and kissed her way up Santana's neck, the dildo between them pressing its tip into Santana's tanned stomach as she did. "Hmm. The goddess of sex."

Santana groaned as the sensation of being poked by a cock and kissed by a girl at the same time. It was certainly not anything she was used to. "What about Artemis?" she asked, lifting her chin so that Brittany could kiss along the underside of her jaw to the other side of her neck and down again. "The goddess of chastity. It's ironic."

Brittany felt a hand snake between their bodies and looked down to see Santana gripping the dildo at the base, pulling it closer to her. She let out a little gasp at the sight, and arched her hips into Santana's hand. "If it's irony we're going for," she said with a grin, pushing the as-yet-unnamed-and-unattached harness against her girlfriend. "Then we should call her Eris. Goddess of strife. We can't even pick out a name for our strap-on without fighting about it."

"Mmm," Santana sighed, bringing Brittany's mouth to her own as the thick rubber shaft was pinned between their taut stomachs. "Eris. I like it. Someone was paying attention during History of Ancient Cultures."

The blonde nodded and slipped her tongue in and out of Santana's mouth, moaning her words across those perfect pouty lips. "You certainly didn't make it easy, what with all that fingering in the back row."

"Your Cheerios uniform is just too hot to resist," Santana countered, her kisses growing harder, more desperate. "And you loved it. Don't even deny it."

"Hmm," Brittany mumbled, her mouth never parting from Santana's as they both increased their fervor. Someone had to give in on the issue of who-wears-what, but she was going to make damn sure that Santana was the one to cave. She knew her girlfriend well enough that, if she pushed the right buttons, Santana would do just about anything Brittany asked. She might not be the brightest girl at McKinley, but if Santana had taught her anything, it was the art of manipulation. Their sexual relationship had always worked that way; both of them played the other to get what they wanted. That night, with Brittany straddling Santana's thighs and feeling her own center aching with want for the girl beneath her, a little manipulation was in order to get the job done.

Brittany still had a firm grip on the harness and, using the powerful muscles in her toned legs, brought herself up into a crouch over Santana. The other girl watched, somewhat suspiciously, as the blonde placed one hand on her upper leg. Brittany's fingers snaked in between closely pressed thighs, her palm cupping Santana's sex and her middle finger sliding between wet folds. Santana took in a sharp breath, her eyes trained on the girl above her, who was watching her reaction and smiling with something that could only be described as loving desire.

"San…" Brittany breathed, her lips parted just enough for her hissed name to escape. "You trust me, right?"

If she hadn't been paying attention before, Santana was certainly rapt now. "Of course, B." She ground her hips into Brittany's hand without giving her the satisfaction of parting her legs. "I trust you with my life."

Brittany's pout came back, and fierce, as she lowered her eyes, her expression downtrodden. "Don't you think I could do a good job? With Eris?" She did her very best to look hurt, as though she was laying the rest of their relationship on how Santana answered her.

"B, no," Santana sat up straighter, pressing her palm to Brittany's face without forgetting that the blonde's hand and middle finger were strategically positioned at her juncture. "I think you'll be amazing. It's just-"

"You think you could be better." A fake sniffle.

It wasn't as though Santana didn't know exactly what Brittany was doing. The girl wasn't particularly subtle, but to be honest, Santana liked when Brittany put on her bad-actress routine to get what she wanted. It was adorable, and endearing, and usually led to some ridiculously hot sex. Bad-actress Brittany put more effort into everything. Not that she didn't make an effort when they had sex without the manipulations and acting, but when Brittany did employ these little tactics to get her way, there was something very… alluring about the way she overextended her body to emphasize how much she was enjoying herself, or the way she groaned just a little bit louder to exaggerate her orgasm.

This, Santana thought, will be one of those nights.

"You know better than that, B," Santana cooed, playing along with the game. "You're the best at everything you ever try. Eris included."

A smile spread across Brittany's face and she lifted her gaze to meet Santana's once more. "Does that mean…?"

"First round's on you, baby," Santana murmured, smiling as she reached out to take the woven straps of the harness in her hands. "Literally."

Brittany clamored off the bed, unceremoniously pulling her hand from between Santana's legs and leaving her grunting as the blonde stepped into the harness that her girlfriend still held out for her. Together they explored the clasps and adjusted it comfortably around Brittany's waist, then cinched it tight around each bare thigh. Brittany looked down, taking a step back so both of them could admire the handiwork.

Despite her best efforts to remain poised, Santana couldn't stop herself from gaping at the sight in front of her. There was Brittany, her lithe, lean body naked except for the black harness and bright pink dildo protruding from the juncture between her legs. She stood regally, her feet shoulder width apart and her hands resting, fingers splayed, across the top of the harness as it rested at her hips. The taller girl was smirking, her long hair hanging in waves around her face. She giggled, watching Santana stare, and the rubber phallus bobbed in response.

"Come here," Santana demanded, reaching out and grabbing Brittany by her "cock" and pulling her forward. "And put that thing to good use."

Brittany stumbled and fell onto the bed, pushing Santana onto her back and sidling up between her already spread legs. Though there was obviously no sensation in the member attached to her body, she could feel it stopping up against her pelvis when the tip nudged Santana's thigh, desperately close to her core. She reached down with both hands and gripped the back of Santana's legs, hoisting her further up onto the bed before resting her hips – and therefore the strap-on – between her girlfriend's waiting thighs.

"Ow!" Santana yelped, reaching between them and readjusting the object that poked mercilessly into her stomach. "Jesus, B. If you can't control that thing maybe I should take over."

Brittany scowled and lifted her hips, then pushed her self up so she was kneeling between Santana's legs, looking down at her. "I've never had a penis before, San," she grumbled. "When it's your turn we'll see just how graceful you are your first time."

"I'm just saying that I think you could try to be a little more- oh shit."

Brittany had, during Santana's tirade, positioned the head of the strap-on in such a way that with one quick thrust, she was buried to the hilt inside the smaller girl. It surprised her so much that tears formed at the corners of her eyes from both shock and sheer size of the object buried deep within her body. Santana swallowed hard, trying not to cry out as Brittany lowered her top half down slowly, maintaining contact between their pelvises. She grunted when Britt shifted her weight from left to right, causing the member inside her to match the movement, striking places within her that had never been hit before.

"Brittany," she heaved, blinking back her tears and praying that her girl would pull back and give her a little time to adjust. "If you think you can't handle it, I mean, we can always trade pl-"

Wet, rough lips mashed onto her own and at the same time, Brittany slid the length of the shaft out of Santana's center, their hips parting and allowing Santana to breathe again.

"San," Brittany moaned into her girlfriend's mouth. "Shut the fuck up, and let me fuck you."

The only sound that left Santana's mouth was a little whimper as Brittany pushed the length slowly back into her body, filling her to bursting. She wrapped her arms around her lover's neck, pulling their bodies close and burying her face in Britt's neck while the blonde began a slow, methodical rhythm with her hips.

Brittany had never had any reason to envy boys before. She'd always been perfectly happy to use the tools she'd been born with when she was with Santana: her dexterous fingers and strong, nimble tongue. But now, laying on top of the girl she loved and watching her writhe under her with the phallus thrusting in and out with the movement of her hips, Brittany was actively jealous of every man in the world, and their ability to feel Santana from the inside out. She was bitter, in fact, that she couldn't feel Santana's muscles clenching and kneading her while she continued her deep strokes.

Santana moaned beneath her, a pained tinge to the sound as it escaped her throat in a haggard gasp. She clung to Brittany so tightly, her nails digging into shoulders and raking down Brittany's taut back as the girl on top of her pumped her hips in and out. One particularly deep thrust made her yelp as Britt bottomed out inside her, making her entire body vibrate with the sensation of being completely taken, for the first time.

The instant Santana cried out, Brittany stopped, slipping her hand between their bodies and pulling the entire length from her girlfriend's body out of concern. "Shhh, baby," she murmured, wiping dark hair out of Santana's face. "We can slow down." She kissed Santana's temple, down her jaw, until she met her lips, kissing deeply and running the pad of her thumb over a tanned cheek.

"Ohhh," Santana moaned, lifting her feet off the bed and bending her knees so they were up near her chest. "Why did you stop?"

Brittany couldn't help but laugh as she pressed another furious kiss to Santana's lips, and deftly thrust back into her body, listening raptly as Santana wailed and arched her back to meet Brittany's hips. They moved in unison, their bodies melding and separately with machine-like efficiency. Santana wrapped her thighs around Brittany's waist, locking her ankles at the small of her back, making sure that every inch of the bright pink monstrosity was buried inside of her body. She wanted to feel Brittany inside her, and the feeling of having her hands on her face while her hips moved between her legs was absolutely ecstasy.

"Harder," she moaned, squeezing her eyes shut and wrapping her fingers around the back of Brittany's neck, pulling her forehead down to meet her own. "Goddamn it, Brittany. Harder."

Brittany could feel the beads of sweat glistening on her back, dripping down her spine and she jutted her chin forward and pressed her lips to Santana's, wanting nothing more than to feel her screaming into her mouth when she came. She increased her speed, her breathing matching her hips pump for pump, and she dragged in air through the corners of her mouth when she managed to pull her tongue from Santana's throat. The rhythm they'd established earlier was shattered as Brittany began to thrust haphazardly, pushing herself up on her hands to gain more leverage. It felt like a Sue Sylvester workout. A thousand pushups, but done without proper technique and with her naked best friend moaning underneath her, begging her to go quicker, harder, deeper. She couldn't take it much longer. She was draining, and fast.

"Oh god," Santana hissed through her teeth, throwing her head back, and Brittany knew she was close. She bent her head low and went to work on the spots that she knew from experience would push her lover over the edge. Her teeth made contact with Santana's clavicle first, biting up the thin skin above the bone to her shoulder. She kissed delicately over the tight muscle and to the tendon jutting from her neck. She dragged her tongue up the side of her neck and sucked hard on the tiny earlobe, swiping the tip of her tongue along the shell of her ear while she breathed heavily against the skin at her hairline.

"Santana," she whispered, her lips pressed behind her ear. "Come for me."

It was enough to push her over the edge. Santana's body tingled from head to toe, the pressure that had been building in the lower half of her body suddenly releasing in a wave that shocked her system so hard that she felt her body lifted off the bed.

"Brittany," she screamed, her mouth against her lover's neck. "I love you…"

She hadn't intended it to come out like that, but there it was. The weight of it all – the new experience, the intensity of it, Brittany's unparalleled performance – had loosened her tongue where she had not been previously able to loosen it. She collapsed from the weight of it, bringing Brittany down on top of her in a steaming, sweaty mass of boneless limbs and gasps for air.

They were both silent for a few minutes, catching their breath and trying to lower their heart rates to manageable levels. Brittany had heard Santana's spontaneous cry, and wasn't ignoring it in the slightest. Rather, she gathered her thoughts, her face still pressed to Santana's ear, and gulped before reaching down and slipping the shaft from Santana's body and rolling onto her back beside her.

"That was…" she started, staring at the ceiling and reaching blindly for Santana's hand.

"I know," Santana finished, finding her hand and weaving their fingers together.

"Holy shit."

"Did you…?" Santana looked at her expectantly.

Brittany shook her head, her chest still rising and falling heavily as her brain reached desperately for much-needed oxygen. "No. I didn't need to. Watching you was enough."

Santana frowned and tried to sit up, but found that her entire body was rebelling against any further movement. "We'll have to fix that," she said, using what little energy she had left to scoot closer to Brittany and plant a soft kiss on her cheek.

"Great," Brittany groaned, the shifting of the bed making her back ache. "Can't wait. But… do you think we could…"

"Take a nap?" Santana yawned, her arm draping over Brittany's stomach, her hand running up the length of the wet shaft that was still attached to Brittany's hips.

"My thoughts exactly," Britt replied, closing her eyes and pulling Santana a little closer. "Hey San?"

"Yeah, B."

"I love you, too."