Fic: Something in the Air - Part Eight
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
An Abandoned Hunting Cabin continued
Chloe’s watching the most hypnotizing striptease.
Clark crosses his arms in front of him, grabs hold of the hem on his shirt and slowly tugs it over his head.
The wet cotton clings to his body, much the way Chloe would if she was pressed up against his naked flesh.
He drops his shirt on an old, rickety table and unbuckles his belt. He rolls his jeans down over his boxers and past his thighs.
Mmmm. Man thighs. Chloe could look at them all day
She hugs her elbows as her teeth start to chatter.
Clark looks up just as he’s stepping out of his pants.
“Take your clothes off, Chloe,” he says.
“What?”
“You’re going to catch your death.”
There’s a good chance Chloe has already died, died and gone to heaven.
“Umm… okay.” She looks down at her sopping clothes. She isn’t sure where to start.
“Here, let me help you,” Clark says. He steps forward, gently takes the bottom of her blouse and lifts it up and off.
His fingers trail down her stomach to the waist band of her pants. He rests them there for a moment and stares down.
“There’s no button,” he says. “How do you get your trousers off?”
“There’s a zipper in the back.” Chloe reaches behind and undoes it.
With a little help from Clark, her pants slide down over her hips and puddle on the floor at her feet.
“Look at us,” she laughs uncomfortably. “Two friends standing in our wet underwear, miles away from anyone else.”
Clark swallows. “Yeah.”
“And nothing’s going to happen,” she continues, “because we’re just friends.”
“Right,” he says.
They stand there, only about a foot apart. The air seems to crack and sizzle between them. Chloe certainly doesn’t feel cold anymore.
“What should we do now?” Clark asks.
“I could do your hair,” Chloe offers.
“Really?”
“Sure. It’s the kind of thing friends do,” she says. “Well, girl friends. And you’re practically a girl friend, except, you know, you’re obviously,” she gestures to his well toned body, “a guy. So, do you want me to do your hair?”
Clark shrugs. “Why not?”
She steps forward and lifts her hands to his head. She runs her fingers through his wet hair, combing it back.
“You have such a nice face,” she says. “You should really wear your hair off of it.”
“I should?”
“Absolutely.”
She takes a step back to survey her work. It’s good, but it’s not quite right.
She raises her hand to the lock of hair right at the top of his forehead and curls it around her finger. Then she lets it drop so that it makes a lovely curlicue.
“Perfect,” she says. “This is the look for you.”
“Do you have a mirror?” he asks. “I want to see.”
Chloe looks around. “I don’t see one here. Probably the person who stays here isn’t much into grooming.”
“Hold still,” Clark says as he leans forward. “I can see my reflection in your eyes.”
She opens her eyes wide. “Do you like it?”
But Clark doesn’t answer. He just keeps leaning forward.
Chloe isn’t sure if she started it or Clark, but suddenly she finds her lips pressed against his. Her hands thread through his hair, ruining the perfect do. He pulls her closer as his tongue snakes into her mouth.
God, kissing Clark is great. It’s better than great. It’s supertastacular.
The way his tongue runs along the inside of her lip and caresses her tongue is so supertastacular that it sends sparks through her whole body. Her toes actually curl.
There’s a humming noise. It might be Chloe moaning into his mouth or it could be that her brain has gone off line.
She fights to bring her brain back on line. She has to think.
“Clark,” she gasps as she pulls away from him. “We’ve been drugged. We have to fight it.”
“Maybe we haven’t been drugged,” he says as he runs his finger up and down her neck. “Maybe this is our reward for saving the town.”
“You did save thousands of people,” she says, losing herself in his pale green eyes. “You deserve the award.”
“I accept the award,” he says. “And I want to share it with my faithful sidekick.”
“This is the best award ceremony ever.”
He reaches around to her back and deftly unhooks her bra. He watches with interest as she shrugs it off. “Definitely.”
She hooks her fingers into the elastic of his boxer shorts and shoves them down. Clark’s cock juts up, proud and just so happy to be included in the fun.
He steps forward, takes her in his arms and kisses her, long, slow and deep. It’s so hot Chloe could melt.
The palms of his hands slide down her back to the curve of her ass. He pushes on her panties… and pushes and pushes.
“Chloe,” he breathes, “your underwear’s so wet from the rain it’s stuck to you. It won’t come off.”
“Rip it,” she moans.
“What?”
“Tear it. Shred it. Obliterate it and dance on its grave.”
“You might want it for later.”
“Uh-uh,” she says as she pulls him closer. “I’m never wearing panties again.”
“That’s…” He swallows. “That’s supertastacular.”
He gathers as much of the damp, silky fabric in his hands as he can, only pinching Chloe’s ass slightly, and pulls. The breeze on her backside is quite refreshing.
They come together again, their tongues entwine. Clark’s cock presses against her stomach.
She has to lift her leg rather high to hook it around his hip. Then she lifts the other leg, only to find herself sliding down his body.
He shivers and his cock gives an appreciative jerk.
She tries again, first the one leg, then the… Nope, still not working. She almost falls to the floor, her stomach sliding quickly against his cock.
He closes his eyes and groans, “Chloe.”
“Clark,” she snaps. “Little help?”
His eyes shoot open. “What?”
She lifts her leg again.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry,” he says.
He places his hands behind her knees, lifts her up, positions her just right and then…
“Oh God,” he gasps.
Her breath comes in short, little gasps. “I know.”
Clark spins back and forth, making Chloe dizzy, and looks for something. He finds what he wants and takes a couple steps.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“The table,” he says between breaths.
“Not the table.”
“Not the table?”
“It won’t hold us.”
“Right.”
He changes directions.
“Where now?” Chloe asks.
“The bed,” he pants.
She glances over her shoulder at the bare mattress with it multiple stains. Each stain tells a story. Chloe doesn’t want to hear those stories.
“Not the bed.”
“Not the bed?”
“I’m not touching it.”
“Okay,” he nods and takes a step towards the wall.
“Not the wall.”
“Chloe,” he whines.
“Splinters.”
He groans with frustration and frantically looks around the cabin once more. Then he carefully backs himself up against a chair and drops into it.
“Uhg!” Chloe grunts. Clark’s still inside her and the drop was rather jarring… but in a good way.
“You okay?” he pants.
She blows quick burst of air out of her mouth. It sounds like she’s in labor. “Never better.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Look,” she grimaces, “this is my happy face.”
She lowers her feet to the floor. Why couldn’t Chloe inherit Lois’ long legs? She’s on her tiptoes already. Clark’s taking up the whole chair, so there isn’t room for her knees.
“What? Are you waiting for the whistle to blow and start the race?” he asks impatiently.
“I can’t get a good range of motion,” Chloe complains.
He rolls his eyes, places his hands on her waist and lifts. It’s only a few inches, but it’s enough. The feel of him sliding inside her, it’s enough to make her eyes go wide and for her to gasp, “Wow.”
“Yeah,” he says as his breath comes faster.
He lowers her down slowly, torturously, wonderfully slowly.
“More,” she begs.
“Yeah,” he says.
He lifts her higher, lowers her faster. Her legs flop up and down in the air.
It’s not exactly dignified, so Chloe braces the soles of her feet against the wall behind them. (If she gets splinters, she’ll just have Clark suck them out later.) Problem is, the wall’s rather close. Her knees are bent to her elbows.
“Chloe,” Clark grunts, “this angle isn’t really working for me.”
“Oh, sorry.” She spreads her legs as far apart as she can, straightening her knees.
Clark slides in deeper and it’s… OH GOD… it’s perfect!
“Yes, yes, yes,” Clark squeals. He clamps his eyes shut and grits his teeth.
He feels so good inside her, hitting every part of her. She can feel it in her muscles, the beginnings of an orgasmic tremor.
“Whatever you do,” she groans, “don’t stop.”
His eyes shoot open and he fixes her with a determined stare. “Never.”
Okay, there’s too much determination in Clark’s eyes. It scares Chloe a little bit.
“Well, we have to stop at some point,” she says nervously.
“Right,” he agrees, “but not right now.”
“No, not right now.”
He leans forward to kiss her. Her lips part in anticipation, her tongue is eager to embrace his. But their movement doesn’t slow any and her lips end up rubbing up and down his face.
It must be what a kiss from Shelby feels like.
God, she hopes he isn’t thinking about Shelby.
“I’m going to become the greatest hero of all times,” Clark says breathlessly. “I’m going to rack up tons of rewards.”
“You’ve already saved Smallville countless times,” Chloe moans. “You even saved the world from Zod. You’ve got a big one coming for that.”
“Oh, it’s coming,” Clark growls. “It’s coming.”
Chloe can feel it coming, like a freight train barreling towards its destination, and then backing up and barreling again. She’s going to ride that train home.
When the train hits it shatters. Chloe cries out on impact as metaphorical flames engulf her.
Clark, who’s dealing with his own fiery explosion, pulls her closer until her cheek is up against his pecs.
They sigh in unison several times, letting contentment settle over them.
Chloe loops one arm around his waist. With the other hand she draws her initials in his sweat. The ‘C’ doesn’t come out very well, but the ‘S’ is plain as day on his chest.
“I think the rain stopped,” Clark says.
She listens for a moment. There’s only the sound of their heavy breathing.
“Yeah,” she says. “Want to go over to the Luthorcorp plant and see what else we have to save Smallville from?”
“You want to go right now?” he asks.
“If we go now,” she says, “we can save the town and, you know, get another reward.”
“Why don’t we just say we saved the town,” Clark offers, “and reward ourselves anyway?”
Chloe closes her eyes and smiles. She likes being a superhero’s sidekick.
“Sounds good to me.”
The End
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
An Abandoned Hunting Cabin continued
Chloe’s watching the most hypnotizing striptease.
Clark crosses his arms in front of him, grabs hold of the hem on his shirt and slowly tugs it over his head.
The wet cotton clings to his body, much the way Chloe would if she was pressed up against his naked flesh.
He drops his shirt on an old, rickety table and unbuckles his belt. He rolls his jeans down over his boxers and past his thighs.
Mmmm. Man thighs. Chloe could look at them all day
She hugs her elbows as her teeth start to chatter.
Clark looks up just as he’s stepping out of his pants.
“Take your clothes off, Chloe,” he says.
“What?”
“You’re going to catch your death.”
There’s a good chance Chloe has already died, died and gone to heaven.
“Umm… okay.” She looks down at her sopping clothes. She isn’t sure where to start.
“Here, let me help you,” Clark says. He steps forward, gently takes the bottom of her blouse and lifts it up and off.
His fingers trail down her stomach to the waist band of her pants. He rests them there for a moment and stares down.
“There’s no button,” he says. “How do you get your trousers off?”
“There’s a zipper in the back.” Chloe reaches behind and undoes it.
With a little help from Clark, her pants slide down over her hips and puddle on the floor at her feet.
“Look at us,” she laughs uncomfortably. “Two friends standing in our wet underwear, miles away from anyone else.”
Clark swallows. “Yeah.”
“And nothing’s going to happen,” she continues, “because we’re just friends.”
“Right,” he says.
They stand there, only about a foot apart. The air seems to crack and sizzle between them. Chloe certainly doesn’t feel cold anymore.
“What should we do now?” Clark asks.
“I could do your hair,” Chloe offers.
“Really?”
“Sure. It’s the kind of thing friends do,” she says. “Well, girl friends. And you’re practically a girl friend, except, you know, you’re obviously,” she gestures to his well toned body, “a guy. So, do you want me to do your hair?”
Clark shrugs. “Why not?”
She steps forward and lifts her hands to his head. She runs her fingers through his wet hair, combing it back.
“You have such a nice face,” she says. “You should really wear your hair off of it.”
“I should?”
“Absolutely.”
She takes a step back to survey her work. It’s good, but it’s not quite right.
She raises her hand to the lock of hair right at the top of his forehead and curls it around her finger. Then she lets it drop so that it makes a lovely curlicue.
“Perfect,” she says. “This is the look for you.”
“Do you have a mirror?” he asks. “I want to see.”
Chloe looks around. “I don’t see one here. Probably the person who stays here isn’t much into grooming.”
“Hold still,” Clark says as he leans forward. “I can see my reflection in your eyes.”
She opens her eyes wide. “Do you like it?”
But Clark doesn’t answer. He just keeps leaning forward.
Chloe isn’t sure if she started it or Clark, but suddenly she finds her lips pressed against his. Her hands thread through his hair, ruining the perfect do. He pulls her closer as his tongue snakes into her mouth.
God, kissing Clark is great. It’s better than great. It’s supertastacular.
The way his tongue runs along the inside of her lip and caresses her tongue is so supertastacular that it sends sparks through her whole body. Her toes actually curl.
There’s a humming noise. It might be Chloe moaning into his mouth or it could be that her brain has gone off line.
She fights to bring her brain back on line. She has to think.
“Clark,” she gasps as she pulls away from him. “We’ve been drugged. We have to fight it.”
“Maybe we haven’t been drugged,” he says as he runs his finger up and down her neck. “Maybe this is our reward for saving the town.”
“You did save thousands of people,” she says, losing herself in his pale green eyes. “You deserve the award.”
“I accept the award,” he says. “And I want to share it with my faithful sidekick.”
“This is the best award ceremony ever.”
He reaches around to her back and deftly unhooks her bra. He watches with interest as she shrugs it off. “Definitely.”
She hooks her fingers into the elastic of his boxer shorts and shoves them down. Clark’s cock juts up, proud and just so happy to be included in the fun.
He steps forward, takes her in his arms and kisses her, long, slow and deep. It’s so hot Chloe could melt.
The palms of his hands slide down her back to the curve of her ass. He pushes on her panties… and pushes and pushes.
“Chloe,” he breathes, “your underwear’s so wet from the rain it’s stuck to you. It won’t come off.”
“Rip it,” she moans.
“What?”
“Tear it. Shred it. Obliterate it and dance on its grave.”
“You might want it for later.”
“Uh-uh,” she says as she pulls him closer. “I’m never wearing panties again.”
“That’s…” He swallows. “That’s supertastacular.”
He gathers as much of the damp, silky fabric in his hands as he can, only pinching Chloe’s ass slightly, and pulls. The breeze on her backside is quite refreshing.
They come together again, their tongues entwine. Clark’s cock presses against her stomach.
She has to lift her leg rather high to hook it around his hip. Then she lifts the other leg, only to find herself sliding down his body.
He shivers and his cock gives an appreciative jerk.
She tries again, first the one leg, then the… Nope, still not working. She almost falls to the floor, her stomach sliding quickly against his cock.
He closes his eyes and groans, “Chloe.”
“Clark,” she snaps. “Little help?”
His eyes shoot open. “What?”
She lifts her leg again.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry,” he says.
He places his hands behind her knees, lifts her up, positions her just right and then…
“Oh God,” he gasps.
Her breath comes in short, little gasps. “I know.”
Clark spins back and forth, making Chloe dizzy, and looks for something. He finds what he wants and takes a couple steps.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“The table,” he says between breaths.
“Not the table.”
“Not the table?”
“It won’t hold us.”
“Right.”
He changes directions.
“Where now?” Chloe asks.
“The bed,” he pants.
She glances over her shoulder at the bare mattress with it multiple stains. Each stain tells a story. Chloe doesn’t want to hear those stories.
“Not the bed.”
“Not the bed?”
“I’m not touching it.”
“Okay,” he nods and takes a step towards the wall.
“Not the wall.”
“Chloe,” he whines.
“Splinters.”
He groans with frustration and frantically looks around the cabin once more. Then he carefully backs himself up against a chair and drops into it.
“Uhg!” Chloe grunts. Clark’s still inside her and the drop was rather jarring… but in a good way.
“You okay?” he pants.
She blows quick burst of air out of her mouth. It sounds like she’s in labor. “Never better.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Look,” she grimaces, “this is my happy face.”
She lowers her feet to the floor. Why couldn’t Chloe inherit Lois’ long legs? She’s on her tiptoes already. Clark’s taking up the whole chair, so there isn’t room for her knees.
“What? Are you waiting for the whistle to blow and start the race?” he asks impatiently.
“I can’t get a good range of motion,” Chloe complains.
He rolls his eyes, places his hands on her waist and lifts. It’s only a few inches, but it’s enough. The feel of him sliding inside her, it’s enough to make her eyes go wide and for her to gasp, “Wow.”
“Yeah,” he says as his breath comes faster.
He lowers her down slowly, torturously, wonderfully slowly.
“More,” she begs.
“Yeah,” he says.
He lifts her higher, lowers her faster. Her legs flop up and down in the air.
It’s not exactly dignified, so Chloe braces the soles of her feet against the wall behind them. (If she gets splinters, she’ll just have Clark suck them out later.) Problem is, the wall’s rather close. Her knees are bent to her elbows.
“Chloe,” Clark grunts, “this angle isn’t really working for me.”
“Oh, sorry.” She spreads her legs as far apart as she can, straightening her knees.
Clark slides in deeper and it’s… OH GOD… it’s perfect!
“Yes, yes, yes,” Clark squeals. He clamps his eyes shut and grits his teeth.
He feels so good inside her, hitting every part of her. She can feel it in her muscles, the beginnings of an orgasmic tremor.
“Whatever you do,” she groans, “don’t stop.”
His eyes shoot open and he fixes her with a determined stare. “Never.”
Okay, there’s too much determination in Clark’s eyes. It scares Chloe a little bit.
“Well, we have to stop at some point,” she says nervously.
“Right,” he agrees, “but not right now.”
“No, not right now.”
He leans forward to kiss her. Her lips part in anticipation, her tongue is eager to embrace his. But their movement doesn’t slow any and her lips end up rubbing up and down his face.
It must be what a kiss from Shelby feels like.
God, she hopes he isn’t thinking about Shelby.
“I’m going to become the greatest hero of all times,” Clark says breathlessly. “I’m going to rack up tons of rewards.”
“You’ve already saved Smallville countless times,” Chloe moans. “You even saved the world from Zod. You’ve got a big one coming for that.”
“Oh, it’s coming,” Clark growls. “It’s coming.”
Chloe can feel it coming, like a freight train barreling towards its destination, and then backing up and barreling again. She’s going to ride that train home.
When the train hits it shatters. Chloe cries out on impact as metaphorical flames engulf her.
Clark, who’s dealing with his own fiery explosion, pulls her closer until her cheek is up against his pecs.
They sigh in unison several times, letting contentment settle over them.
Chloe loops one arm around his waist. With the other hand she draws her initials in his sweat. The ‘C’ doesn’t come out very well, but the ‘S’ is plain as day on his chest.
“I think the rain stopped,” Clark says.
She listens for a moment. There’s only the sound of their heavy breathing.
“Yeah,” she says. “Want to go over to the Luthorcorp plant and see what else we have to save Smallville from?”
“You want to go right now?” he asks.
“If we go now,” she says, “we can save the town and, you know, get another reward.”
“Why don’t we just say we saved the town,” Clark offers, “and reward ourselves anyway?”
Chloe closes her eyes and smiles. She likes being a superhero’s sidekick.
“Sounds good to me.”
The End