Rachel is what you'd call a controllist.

"Yeah?" It's a whimper, barely there, her toes brushing his thigh when she stretches one leg out, the digits curling and straightening without any say from Rachel at all. She's past teasing Puck at this point, breathing coming hard enough to hear now, practiced fingers playing easily along petal soft skin.

She slips her fingers down and up, gasping as they disappear into her pussy and her free hand grips at the pillow behind her bed.