Title: Five Times Quinn Watched Rachel Touch Herself, and One Time She Helped

Author: actress-xx

Pairing, Character(s): Quinn/Rachel - Quill

Rating: NC-17

Word Count: 3,744

Summary: Quinn walks in on Rachel masturbating … every day for a week.

Disclaimers: I do not own Glee.

Author's Notes: Written for a prompt at the Glee Kink Meme. (Quinn catches Rachel masturbating in the school showers. At first she kind of watches and doesn't know if she's turned on or revolted, but then it becomes a regular occurrence; Quinn watches while Rachel gets herself off. Goes on until Quinn finally decides to join, and hot, sexy shower times ensue.)

I. Monday

Nobody sweated hard enough in a normal gym class to actually utilize the showers at McKinley High, least of all a certain brunette that all but leapt out of the way anytime a ball of any sort came near her, so Quinn Fabray was confused when she noticed the blouse, skirt and knee-socks folded on the locker room's bench. The blonde tossed her backpack over one shoulder, eyeing the pile of clothing as she started for the exit; something about the idea of the girl being enough of a diva to think she deserved a full-out shower after her sorry excuse for a workout irked Quinn, and she pivoted, changing direction to search for Rachel Berry.

The parade of smartass remarks that had been streaming through the girl's mind halted when their intended target came into view. As she'd anticipated, there wasn't much gym-induced sweat or grime on Rachel's figure, and so it wasn't really surprising when the brunette wasn't bathing. What caught Quinn off-guard was the fact that the showerhead was being used for a completely separate purpose, held between Rachel's thighs. She was standing with her legs slightly apart, presumedly to spread herself for the stimulation of the water to tease her clit. Quinn had suffered through enough Cheerios practices to have showered at McKinley - of course, she'd actually showered - and she knew how impressive the water-pressure was. Rachel had clearly discovered that for herself. Her back was turned to her voyeur, who may have been tricked into thinking the girl was simply rinsing off down there if not for Rachel's bone-dry tresses, and the fact that they were partially obscuring the back of the bra she hadn't even bothered to remove.

If the blonde had been able to look away, her eyes may have found the matching panties tossed into a nearby corner, but Quinn was captivated by the sight in front of her. Rachel's tiny gasps of breath were reverberating off the tiled walls, softly enough that they would have been drowned out by the trickle of water had Quinn not been actively listening for them. Wait, what? Quinn didn't know if she was more horrified by the realization that she was legitimately spying on Rachel Berry playing with herself, or that she didn't seem to want to run away to gouge her eyes out without seeing the brunette orgasm first.

Her theory that the showers went unused - for purposes other than midday masturbation sessions, apparently - proved true as the seconds ticked by, and paranoia turned to perversion as Quinn watched Rachel's hips gyrate. The speed increased in deliciously slow increments, and eventually Rachel was humping the showerhead so eagerly that Quinn was dying to know what this scenario looked like from the front: shallow breaths forcing breasts to swell and ebb, tummy quivering, one hand holding her pussy open while the other positioned the stream of water directly onto her pink clit ... For now, she'd have to settle for what it sounded like, because with a particularly high-pitched "Oh!" that shook Quinn out of her imagination, Rachel was climaxing, and her solitary audience member was scurrying away, red-faced as she felt the wetness that had pooled in her panties as she exited the locker room.

II. Tuesday

To her knowledge, knee-socks were not usually a bad omen, but as Quinn caught sight of the argyle accessories once again topping a pile of clothing, she felt her stomach drop. She fought to focus on whatever Brittany was babbling about, but that was a difficult task in and of itself, nevermind when it was being combatted by mental images of a cute brunette with her legs spread, the same mental image that may or may not have visited Quinn as she took her own shower that morning. She'd been able to shoo it away then, promptly rinsing the shampoo from her once-again blonde locks and sending her borderline fantasy down the drain with it; knowing that it was most likely a reality not even ten feet away wasn't as easy.

Whatever distracted excuse she mumbled seemed to appease Brittany, who barely skipped a beat before redirecting her ramblings towards another cheerleader, both of whom gradually filtered out of the locker room along with the rest of the girls. Everybody was gone except for Rachel Berry, and a certain blonde who dug her teeth into her lower lip as she found herself moving towards the showers in search of her.

Being a woman herself, the female form obviously wasn't anything mindblowing to Quinn, but as she rounded the corner to see Rachel plastered against the wall of the shower, dripping wet with a hand between her thighs, her eyes widened. The girl was perfect. Even with soaked tendrils clinging to her face, she was aggravatingly pretty. Her long lashes were squeezed together, and Quinn assumed that was for the sake of keeping water out of her eyes, which hopefully - please, God - meant that she wouldn't be opening them. Silently praying that she was correct, Quinn allowed herself to continue trailing down Rachel's body, immediately becoming obsessed with the perkiness of her tits. They looked impressively similar to Santana's, and those were fake. The warmth of the water wasn't enough to keep Rachel's nipples from stiffening, and tiny rivulets were dripping off of them and down her torso, drawing Quinn's attention to the fact that the brunette had two fingers curled inside of herself.

The speed and fierceness with which Rachel was fingering herself gave her voyeur an insight as to how she must like to be fucked, if she ever had been fucked. Had she been fucked? Oh, Jesus, what was happening? Quinn couldn't stop herself from taking the undulating figure in front of her and envisioning her riding a cock as eagerly as she was currently riding her own hand, eyes shut in pleasure rather than shielding against the water from a high school shower. She wondered how wet Rachel's pussy would get, how tight she would clench when she came, what she would taste like if a certain blonde was there to swipe her tongue along her slit.

Quinn could tell herself that she would have left as soon as that thought crossed her mind even if Rachel's fingers hadn't stilled, even if her mouth hadn't fallen open in a silent o-shape, even if her free hand hadn't drifted up to wipe the water from her eyes. Quinn could tell herself all of that, but she would be lying.

III. Wednesday

"Mmm, Puck, yes."

However long Rachel's little sessions had been going on for, which Quinn had begun to assume was longer than the two days she'd witnessed, the brunette had clearly built up some confidence in terms of not being interrupted. So much so, in fact, that she was audibly moaning her imaginary lover's name as she pinched her own nipples in the privacy of the shower. Well, the privacy that would be intact if not for Quinn Fabray peeking around the corner of the otherwise abandoned locker room. The blonde had made sure it was emptied, because she knew her fingers would end up exactly where they currently were: buried in her panties, lightly tickling her clit with the tiniest of strokes as she watched Rachel's performance.

"God, just like that, Finn, just - yeah, just like that."

Quinn's eyebrow cocked at the name change as Rachel slipped her middle finger inside of her pussy, tantalizingly pulling it back out to circle her clit just once, then slipping it back in. The motion only had to repeat itself twice more for the blonde to recognize it as a trademark of the bumbling football player, and she rubbed herself just a bit harder at the idea of Rachel spreading her legs for Finn Hudson. Seeing the glee club's princess like this, sexual and wanton and slutty, provided Quinn with a surge of power that was intoxicating. Fuck you, Berry, she mused, a jolt of pleasure shooting through her frame. You're no better than the rest of us.

"Oh, fuck, yes, I want it so bad."

One fingers had turned into two, and the blonde mimicked what she was seeing, delving into her own wet heat in time with Rachel's thrusts. Mmm, that was good. Rachel knew what she was doing. Somebody had taught her well.

"Jesse!"

There we go.

Rachel's left hand was traveling back and forth between her tits, her brow furrowing in what seemed like a slight twinge of pain every time her fingertips locked onto a nipple, and Quinn wondered how hard she was pinching. The soaked fingers of her right hand had abandoned her pussy and were fiercely rubbing at her clit, but Quinn continued to fuck herself. Her walls tightened at the next exclamation that came from the horny brunette.

"Fuck, Mr. Schue, please fuck me. Please, I wanna cum for you so bad."

Oh, no way, no fucking way had she slept with Will Schuester, but the fact that Rachel was about to get off to the idea of rough sex with her mentor did Quinn in. She forced her eyes to stay open through her orgasm, watching as Rachel thrust three fingers inside of herself in what looked like just enough time to cum on them as the opposite hand still worked her clit.

"Yes, Mr. Schue, I'm cumming so hard."

Fuck, Berry, me too.

IV. Thursday

The showers in the locker room were becoming quite useful, and while Quinn had yet to witness anybody actually bathing in them following a gym class, they were serving a glorious purpose. Currently, the showers weren't even turned on, but their occupant was clearly wet. Rachel was sitting in the corner fully dressed, knees spread, her panties having been shoved aside to make way for the little toy she was using to tickle herself. For her, the tiled chamber had evolved into a secluded place to escape in the middle of the day, even if just for a few stolen minutes. It was slowly becoming the same thing for Quinn, who had pulled her own underwear aside as she watched.

The vibrator was tiny and pink, and if, by chance, Quinn had imagined Rachel using a toy, which she hadn't, ever - especially not the night before while burying herself in her sheets and working her own dildo between her legs - that might have been exactly what she'd expected it to look like. It was only a couple of inches long, clearly intended to stimulate a certain area, and Rachel was circling tight spirals around her clit. Even in the fluorescent lights, her folds were slick and glistening, and every once in a while she would dip the vibrator down to her slit just long enough to rewet the tip. No names were tumbling from her lips this time, but she released a little grunt every time the slippery toy bumped her clit.

Quinn's mouth was playing its own game, her tongue mimicking the path of Rachel's toy. She would swipe the air in front of her each time Rachel traced her slit, and try to recreate the circles that were causing the brunette to moan. It took some practice to get the rotations as precise as she wanted them to be, but Quinn caught on; it was like giving head to a miniature cock, right? Except that it was definitely a pussy that she was staring at, pretending to pleasure, aching to taste and touch and tease. There was something thrilling about the thought of having the to power to make Rachel absolutely crumble, most likely better than her other sexual partners had been able to.

Well, maybe not Puck.

Rachel unraveled first this time, a staccato rhythm of "ohohoh" punctuating the otherwise still air, and Quinn hurriedly sped up her own ministrations, desperate to reach completion before she was forced to rush out of the locker room ahead of the brunette. She wasn't able to, seeing the girl shakily remove the toy and replace her panties as her breaths evened out. Quinn could have sworn she saw Rachel bring the toy to her mouth, but she was too busy stifling a whine and ducking back around the corner to be sure. Tingling and needy, she was enveloped in the throng of students as she disappeared into the hallway. Choreography was going to be a bitch today.

V. Friday

An embarrassingly large stockpile of sexual fantasies starring Rachel Berry was starting to amass itself beneath the blonde tresses of Quinn Fabray. When the girl bent over to retrieve a fallen piece of sheet music, Quinn cocked her head to the side and considered what it would look like if she'd done so with nothing on under her pleated skirt. When she opened her mouth to deliver a particularly impressive note, Quinn was tangling her fingers in that dark hair and shoving an imaginary strap-on down Rachel's throat. When she took her seat, tanned legs neatly folded over each other, Quinn was ready to be ensconced underneath her, thrusting the aforementioned toy inside of the brunette until she was cumming like she had in the showers every other day that week.

Getting caught staring directly at her, in said shower, as she was orgasming, was not one of Quinn's fantasies, and she would give every possession she had in this world for it not be her current reality, but it was. The shower was on, the heated water creating steam that did little to hide the wonderment in Rachel's eyes as she blinked wordlessly back at the blonde who, for reasons she would never understand, couldn't fucking move. Neither could Rachel, it seemed, until the twitch of her hand demanded Quinn's attention; two digits were still being held by the spasms of her pussy, and they rocked back and forth gently as Quinn watched - as Rachel watched Quinn watch - and Rachel drew out her orgasm as long as possible before relocating her fingers to her lips, the pink of her tongue slipping out to wash away the evidence of her climax before the water could get to it.

It was unbearably hot, and Quinn blamed the combination of steam and embarrassment for the flush in her cheeks, and the fact that she was tugging off her top, because it clearly had nothing to do with Rachel's fingers returning to the apex of her thighs, playing with herself in full, conscious view of her nemesis. Quinn's hand quickly followed suit as the blonde shoved it down the front of her jeans, but a murmur from Rachel caused her ministrations to cease for merely a second, until she was sure she wasn't hallucinating.

"I wanna see."

That was what lead to Quinn Fabray standing in her green bra and panties, the denim of her jeans wiggled down off her hips, teasing herself over the cloth of her thong while a fully-naked Rachel Berry fingerfucked herself to a second orgasm. Dark irises locked onto hazel eyes until both sets of lashes were fluttering, and Quinn was tugging down the thin fabric covering her sex until she was free to play with the wetness pooling there. Both girls were emitting sounds that drove the other insane: Rachel cooed while Quinn groaned, typical of their soprano and alto statuses, though Rachel's sound dipped into a lower register when she saw Quinn buck against her own hand.

"Close," the blonde announced to nobody in particular, but in the time it took for Rachel to get herself there one more time, Quinn had climaxed, snatched her top from the tiled floor, and run away.

VI. Saturday

Quinn Fabray didn't like Rachel Berry, nor any of the equally-annoying multiple personalities the brunette seemed to possess. She didn't like superstar-Rachel, who relentlessly demanded every tiny ounce of attention onstage. She didn't like bossy-Rachel, who took it upon herself to become Mr. Schuester's TA with no encouragement from the teacher himself. She didn't like pathetic-Rachel, whose "Oh, gee, I'm not perfect" moments didn't last nearly long enough to actually set in. No, Quinn was not a fan of the glee club diva in any form, though it was a Saturday rehearsal that proved exactly how much she loathed cocky-Rachel.

The amount of strutting and bending and gyrating Rachel was doing had Finn and Puck stumbling over their dance moves; to be fair, that was relatively expected, except that they were blatantly staring at the brunette as they did so. What nobody seemed to be paying attention to was the fact that Rachel was focusing intently on Quinn: when the blonde walked into the dance studio, during the entire choreography session, and directly afterwards when Rachel announced, "Goodness, I certainly worked up a sweat. I'll have to grab a shower before I head home."

The full week of sexual frustration behind the statement had Quinn marching in the direction of the locker room as soon as she'd gathered her things. Rachel's hand was just turning the knob of the shower when a fully-dressed blonde shoved her up against the tiled wall, the white cotton of Quinn's tee becoming transparent beneath the water, but still not leaving her as exposed as the bare girl beneath her. Glittering eyes revealed that Rachel wasn't as calm about the turn of events as her voice made her out to be as she quipped, "Oh, hello, Qui -"

As quickly as Quinn interrupted the greeting with a demanding kiss, Rachel was shoving water-laden cheer shorts off her new lover's hips. They sank to the floor of the shower to be kicked aside, shortly joined by sneakers and socks. A tiny piece of Quinn's mind was able to ignore the tongue swirling against her own long enough to realize that somebody could stumble across the scene as accidentally as she had earlier in the week, but then Rachel was dropping to her knees, and she no longer cared. Besides, the only authority figure at school on a Saturday was Mr. Schuester, and she suspected that, in the unlikely event of him entering the female locker room and discovering the scene - Quinn Fabray standing beneath the stream of a shower in a saturated t-shirt and thong, the lace of which was being shoved aside to allow a stark-naked Rachel Berry to lick her clit - his first move would not be to serve them with a detention.

"Ah! Yeah, Berry, lick me; I wanna cum on your tongue."

The dirty words seemed foreign in her mouth, and the girl between her legs was admittedly clumsy, but when Quinn reached down to spread her pussy, better directing Rachel's tongue, her knees weakened and she felt tiny hands on her ass doing their best to hold her up. She stuttered something that she'd intended to sound like "fingers," but Rachel picked up the cue, thrusting her pointer and middle digit into Quinn's slit and sending the blonde over the edge. She crumbled as she came, hands finding balance on Rachel's shoulders as she lowered herself onto the shower's floor, legs unintentionally spread. The water teased her pussy and caused a few more tiny convulsions, while Rachel decided was the hottest thing in the world as she turned her attention to her own aching clit. By the time Quinn's aftershocks had dissipated, Rachel was sitting on her ass, leaning against the shower's wall, knees apart like a pornstar. The brunette watched through heavy lids as the blonde literally crawled between her legs, immediately feasting on the sugary wetness she found there.

An uncharacteristically guttural sound came from Rachel's throat, spurring Quinn's ministrations; her tongue circled and traced and explored as precisely as she could, recalling the time she'd spent pretending to lick the girl's cunt. Rachel had soaked, blonde tresses clenched between her fingers are she ground up against Quinn's surprisingly talented mouth, mumbling naughty words of encouragement.

"Don't stop. God, oh, ohhh, don't ever stop licking my little clit. It feels so fucking good."

Denying that specific request, Quinn transferred her tongue from Rachel's sensitive pearl to her tightening cunt, thrusting inside as she furiously worked her fingers over Rachel's clit. The switch-up of the sensation had Rachel shrieking, and the sound continued as the diva climaxed all over Quinn's tongue. The cheerleader nipped and sucked up Rachel's torso until their eyes were locked, both sets of pupils blown and hungry as Quinn tangled their limbs together, grinding against Rachel's core with her own. The brunette's whistle-toned exclamations were so high-pitched that by the time she came, no sound was actually emitted, and as Quinn followed her over the edge, she amended the thought she'd had earlier that day.

She really, really liked slutty-Rachel.