Word count: 3,182
Spoilers: 9.09, Pandora
Notes: Beta read by theclexfactor. <3
One Track Minds, by Kate
Okay so there’s this memory that's been haunting Clark’s every waking moment; a memory of something that not only hasn't happened yet, but that cannot ever happen because if it does a lot of people will die. Including Clark, and while he’s okay with that if it’s for a good cause, a memory of a really fantastic experience from an apocalyptic future that Clark needs to prevent transpiring at all costs, is not a particularly good cause.
So why can’t he stop thinking about what it was like making love to Lois?
They’ve got their first date tonight and there’s no way they’ll end up in bed afterward, because he respects her and men who respect their girlfriends–is she his girlfriend? It’s reasonably official as far as he’s concerned, even if they haven’t said it out loud yet–don’t expect sex on the first date.
Except that it’s all he can think about, and he knows she wants it as much as he does, so really, what’s the big deal? They’re adults, they’re practically in a relationship, and they’re attracted to each other. It’s only natural that they would go see a movie, have dinner, and then--
Oh boy, even just thinking the word makes Clark feel scandalous. He straightens his tie and contemplates his reflection. Clark doesn’t consider himself a vain man but he’s feeling pretty good about the way he looks. He’d let the guy in the shop pick a shirt for him because he’d been so nice and he’d seemed really impressed with how good Clark looked in a suit. What did he say again? That’s right. “Man, you really rock that suit.” Later he’d asked for Clark’s phone number, which had been a bit awkward, but it had also kind of made Clark’s day. Because the gay guy wanted him and thought he looked – “super, super hot” was it? Something close to that – and that’s basically what Clark was going for because he wants Lois to find him hot tonight. Hot enough to maybe want to rip off his new shirt.
Wait no, scratch that, this shirt cost two hundred bucks and he’s not made of money.
Lois has absolutely no idea what’s going on in the movie. All she knows is that Clark is sitting next to her and he doesn’t have his arm around her. The only time they touch is when they both go for the popcorn at the same time, but honestly, that's just making Lois feel frustrated. She wants more, but Clark is such a dunce he doesn’t even think to, like, put one of his giant man-paws on her knee. For instance. She’s got her leg stretched out towards him and it’s pretty goddamn clear what he’s supposed to do now. But does he have the faintest idea? No of course not. He’s sitting up straight, staring straight ahead of him, eyes open wide. It’s hilarious in a way because Lois knows he’s nervous. And, okay, she’s kind of nervous too because tonight’s the night they have sex--finally--and he’s going to see her naked. (Again.) More importantly, she’s going to see him naked. (Again.) All that skin. And muscle. And--
Nerves forgotten, nerve endings alight, Lois starts fidgeting. If Clark doesn’t touch her soon, and not in that schoolboy way he’s doing now, she’s going to lose her marbles.
Hmm. She supposes… she supposes she could make the first move. It’s actually more likely things will move forward at a more bearable pace if she takes the lead. Waiting for Clark to do anything would probably result in the two of them never having sex for the rest of their lives.
She can feel herself swaying into his space, catching a whiff of his rather gorgeous, subtle, cologne, and Jesus, she’s so turned on she’d be genuinely willing to blow him right here in the theater. It’s not even that busy.
Clark’s trousers are uncomfortably tight now. His entire body is rigid and he can feel a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. Lois is swaying towards him and her dress has ridden up, revealing an enticing looking knee and an even more inviting expanse of thigh.
Oh God she smells good.
He turns to look at her and finds her staring at him, and there’s something about the look in her eyes that undoes the remainder of Clark’s self control. Next thing he knows his hand is on her knee and he’s leaning in to kiss her.
Kissing her just makes him feel about a thousand times more excited so he can’t help himself slowly sliding his hand up her thigh towards the heat emanating from between her legs. When she slouches down a little, spreading her thighs, he has no choice but to accept her invitation. Soft, soft skin, smooth and warm. And oh. That’s damp. That’s her panties and they are definitely damp.
Oh, oh wow, he needs to get inside her right now. Keeping his mouth on her, he inserts his hand inside her panties, caressing the slightly coarse hair of her bush before slipping it between her legs, and she's so wet two of his fingers slide into her easily. Lois moans against his mouth, so loud someone a few rows back hushes them. Clark smiles but keeps his fingers inside her, whispering, “Do you want to go?”
It’s official. Nothing turns Lois on more than Clark when he’s being assertive. It probably helps that he’s got two of his ginormous fingers in her but combined with his obvious willingness to take this to the next level, and not just later after dinner, but now, is ridiculously sexy.
She practically barks her response. “Yes.” And then suddenly Clark’s hand is gone and he’s grabbing his coat and licking his fingers. There’s a pause before he stands up as he adjusts himself in his trousers. Eyes drawn to the movement, Lois gasps at the sight of the erection tenting his pants. She looks up and sees his eyes crossing as he touches himself, and it occurs to Lois that any kind of contact with his cock at this point must be nothing short of maddening.
Standing up, Clark takes Lois’s hand and pulls her to her feet. He's walking a little funny, holding his coat in front of himself as they hastily exit the theater. "Shall I cancel our dinner reservation?" he asks her.
"On it!" she says, phone already at her ear.
The cab ride to her place is -- probably something Lois should feel ashamed about.
The cabbie, an enthusiastic conspiracy theorist, is talking incessantly about the fallibility of the press, the decline of society, and some kind of sinister plot involving meteor mutants running for office that Lois might have been interested in on any other day. As it is she couldn't care less, because while Clark is listening politely, occasionally interjecting with bland, neutral observations and half-hearted agreement, he's also got his hand on Lois's thigh, fingers idly caressing the sensitive flesh inside. This is driving her absolutely crazy with lust. How he's able to concentrate on whatever nonsense their idiot driver is spouting is quite beyond Lois, and so she decides to make it more difficult for him.
She leans over and sucks on his earlobe, then slides her hand slowly up Clark's long, muscular thigh until her index finger makes contact with his very stiff cock.
"Oh," he whispers, turning towards her. He looks into her eyes. "Stop that."
She glides the tip of her finger down Clark's impressive length and kisses him on the lips. "Give me one good reason why I should."
"Because we have company," he murmurs, voice a little shaky. The cabbie's still babbling on, entirely unaware of his lack of audience. And Clark, eyelids drooping and mouth falling open, doesn't really look or sound as though he wants Lois to stop. She flattens her palm against his cock and strokes him firmly through his pants. "Oh God. Lois you--"
Lois knows Clark's right and that she should stop, but she's having far too much fun. Turning around on her knees and straddling his thigh, purposefully blocking the driver's potential view of Clark's lap, she kisses him wetly and tugs down his fly.
"Don't," he says against her mouth. "You can't. Not here." Yet he lets her continue. He lets her slip her hand into the slit in his boxer shorts, wrap it around his cock and pull him out. It looks wonderful, sticking out of her fist, glistening and swollen.
"Uncut," she observes with some surprise, touching his foreskin curiously.
Looking up she finds a mesmerized Clark, staring down at her playing with his dick. "Should I stop?" she whispers, briefly wondering if the cabbie has clocked on to what's happening yet but not particularly caring either way.
"Yes," he says, pushing his hips upwards.
She squeezes his cock and starts moving her fist up and down. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather put it in my mouth?"
Yeah she said that because it's actually what she wants to do but also because it's fun to mess with Clark. She especially loves the way it causes him to jerk his hips up in a helpless spasm and choke out a groan.
Clark's cock is in Lois's mouth. It's about the best thing he's ever felt in his life, and he's pretty sure he's going to have an orgasm soon. Only problem is that they've got an audience. The taxi driver who hadn't stopped talking since they got into his cab has finally gone quiet, and may or may not be watching them in his rear view mirror, although Clark decides not to check because in a case such as this, ignorance is bliss.
What's most amazing about this experience is how much Lois seems to be enjoying herself. Those things she's doing with her tongue feel incredible—so wet and dirty—and if she wasn't so enthusiastic Clark might have worried that he's having more fun than she is. Only the way she moans around him and the hunger with which she sucks on him, leads Clark to believe that she's extremely happy—heck, she's basically ecstatic—about having his cock in her mouth. Even when she takes too much of him inside and gags she doesn't seem interested in stopping. In fact, she just tries again, and again, and again, until he's going in deeper than it should be possible to go and Lois isn't gagging anymore.
The car has stopped.
Clark looks out of the window and sees Lois's apartment building.
"Lois," he says, stroking her hair as her head bobs up and down in his lap. She ignores him because apparently sucking his dick is more important than anything else right now. Clark has no interest in arguing with that but he's feeling a little self conscious about the driver, who is sitting silent and rigid up front, probably too embarrassed to ask them to please stop what they're doing and pay him what he's owed. "We're home, Lois."
But she's on a mission and she clearly has no intention of stopping until Clark has completely humiliated himself in front of a total stranger. He slips his hand under her hair and grips the back of her neck so he can stop her if he needs to, but finds instead that guiding her with his hand enables him to regulate the pace. He shuts his eyes and lets his head fall back against the top of his seat. The cab driver is almost certainly watching them but he no longer cares. It feels too good not to just let go and start thrusting gently so his cock goes right into Lois's throat each time. He even lets himself moan because what's the point pretending now? If Lois doesn't mind being watched why should Clark?
What they must look like right now... "I'm coming," he gasps, hand gripping her neck as he shoots his load into her mouth. He continues raggedly thrusting through his orgasm, Lois's mouth wrapped around his cock throughout, swallowing everything he has to give her.
She pulls off and tucks him away. "That was great," she says breathlessly. "Now pay the poor man and take me upstairs immediately."
When they reach Lois's bedroom, Clark shuts the door behind them and looks at Lois with a funny expression on his face. He's frowning at her and it's possible he's mad about the thing in the taxi, although Lois can't think past her own arousal at this point, so instead of asking him what's wrong she just stands there and smiles at him seductively.
"That was really--"
"--amazing," Lois finishes, bending slightly so she can take hold of the hem of her dress between her thumbs and forefingers. She drags it slowly up her thighs, stopping just below her groin.
Eyes fixed on her legs, Clark whispers, "We shouldn't have done that. That was wrong."
"Oh lighten up, Smallville. You had a good time, I had a good time, and the cabbie saw a good show. Now," she sighs. "Please come over here and touch me already."
He walks over to her but he doesn't touch her. "The cabbie saw a good show? That's your defense?"
"Clark." Why is Clark's disapproval turning her on even more? She grabs one of his hands and shoves it between her legs, jamming it hard against herself and moaning loudly.
He gasps and guides her backwards toward the bed, cupping her mound in his hand as they walk. When they reach the bed he throws her down onto the mattress, bends over and grabs the sides of her panties then swiftly peels them off. He pushes her thighs wide apart and climbs onto the bed, kneeling between her legs and staring down at her pussy, which Lois can't help thrusting towards him.
"You can fuck me right now if you want," she says breathlessly. "I don't need any more foreplay."
"Lois," Clark chokes out, pushing three fingers inside her. "I can't believe you said that."
"Said what?" she asks. "That we're going to fuck? Because Clark, if you're going to do it you should be able to say it."
With his free hand he pulls down his fly and pushes down his pants and boxers. His cock, fully hard again, springs forth. "I can say it," he says, stroking himself as he fingers her.
"Then say it." Lois thrusts against his fingers helplessly.
"Oh God, I'm gonna--" He extracts his fingers and lowers himself between her legs until the head of his cock makes contact with her pussy. He holds himself there. "I'm gonna." His voice is breathless, shuddering, desperately aroused.
Lois pushes her hips forward, causing Clark's cock to enter her a little. "I-- I should get a condom," he says without urgency, pushing himself deeper inside. "Then I can--" He's moving in and out of her now, gazing into her eyes. He slowly thrusts his cock all the way into her and says, "Then I can fuck you."
He's right that they should be using a condom but other methods of birth control can be effective. "Just don't come inside me," Lois gasps.
This experience is very different from what Clark had expected.
They didn't use a condom in the future either but that's where the similarities end. In the future they were both naked (as opposed to being practically fully dressed), they barely spoke, and it was beautiful and painful all at once because it was their first and probably last time together.
Somewhat contrarily, Clark presently feels like a porn star. Yeah, okay, he did kind of enjoy putting on a show for the taxi driver, but that's what's crazy about tonight: it's just not in Clark's nature to do that sort of thing! And now, he's inside Lois, he's fucking her really slow and hard and he's saying really dirty things into her ear.
"My cock feels so good inside you," he tells her, biting her earlobe gently. "I want to fuck you all night."
Where is he getting this stuff? Clark doesn't know, nor does he care, because it's having a wondrous effect on Lois: she's clutching onto him, her eyes are crossing, and she seems to be having trouble breathing. She jerks against him, choking out the sounds of her orgasm: short strangled gasps interspersed with high pitched moans. Clark keeps moving inside her, encouraging her, whispering, "Oh yeah, oh God, Lois, yes, oh God yeah," and now he wants to come again himself, but he holds off until Lois is done, then he pulls out.
She's still wearing her dress so any plan Clark might have been concocting to come on her breasts is sadly precluded. God she looks beautiful: lying on her back, red dress bunched around her waist, legs open wide and vagina glistening provocatively. Clark jacks his cock vigorously until he comes, the rush of pleasure powerfully intensified by the sight of his semen spurting out onto her lower belly, her bush, and God, spilling down over her swollen clit. Lois puts both hands between her legs and rubs Clark's spunk all over her vagina.
Clark wonders if she'll worry about how unsafe they've been tonight as he pushes his penis inside her one more time, filling her up and kissing her on the mouth. He fucks her for a while, still turned on, still planning on making this last all night, and says, "Can we take our clothes off now?"
Lois just nods, evidently incapable of talking. Clark pulls out and unzips her dress, watching her wriggle out of it as he strips off his own clothes as quickly as possible without resorting to super speed. He lies down next to her. "Climb on top of me," he says.
"How can you still have an erection?" she asks, incredulous. Clark pulls her up on top of him until she's straddling his lap, and she sinks down onto his cock until he's fully encased in her slippery warmth once more.
"You just turn me on so much," he says, which isn't even a lie.
Lois is forced to insist they stop having sex after her seventh orgasm. She plans to sleep for about twenty hours; after that she's going have a shower and eat her body weight in food, not necessarily in that order, and then. Well, by then she'll be ready for another go round with Clark.
"You're legendary," she says. "I've never been so exhausted in my life."
He holds her close, dropping soft kisses all over her face. "Yeah sorry about that. I probably should have let you go to sleep a while ago."
"Hey," Lois snaps. "I have just as much stamina as you."
Clark laughs. "Sure you do."
"I'll go again right now," she slurs determinedly, unable to even open her eyes.
Lois falls asleep in his arms.