In Your Arms, I Fly
Something smooth and silky underfoot made Lois almost slip on her way back from the bathroom. In the fading evening light she couldn’t really see anything, even accustomed as she was to her surroundings. She reached down and picked up the object, realising as she did that it was Clark’s cape.
It wasn’t the most obvious thing to do, but she’d always wondered what it would be like to wear it, or fly with it on, so she walked towards the floor length mirror in the corner of the bedroom and pulled the cape tight round her shoulders. The ‘S’ symbol stood out proudly, yellow against red. She’d always suited red.
In the mirror she could see Clark still sleeping, sprawled out on the spot where she’d been until her bathroom break five minutes. For some reason he loved to fall asleep on top of her. Not that she minded, but he was a big guy. Smirking to herself while thinking of her husband’s dimensions, she turned her attention back to how she looked in the cape. She tilted her head to look at her reflection from a different angle, letting her hair cascade over her back and shoulders.
Lois was so busy studying the look and feel of the cape against her skin that she didn’t notice Clark was awake until he was beside her. Tall and broad, he loomed over her. One hand reached out to grab a handful of the cape, and Lois wondered whether he would pull it off her slowly or just whip it off.
He did neither, using his hold on the cape to pull her sideways and closer to him. His other hand ran down her back, feeling the difference between the cape and her skin and the combination of the two. His head dropped to press a kiss to her shoulder, his mouth exploring it until he got to the spot where her neck met her shoulder and Lois couldn’t hold back a moan.
She had, realistically, expected that at some point, the amazing sex would plateau and just always be consistently amazing. But it seemed to get better every time. She had a minor panic attack at the thought that it would never stop being amazing, before wondering what on earth would be wrong with that. Clark’s hand didn’t stop running up and down her back, and his mouth kept doing amazing things to her neck, while Lois tried to mentally calculate what round number this was. Four, maybe?
A sudden chill made Lois focus on the present; Clark had let go of her and stepped back to look at her properly. His eyes, dark and dangerous, took in every inch of her. After what felt like an age, his eyes met hers.
“Looks better on you,” he said, his voice deeper than usual. Lois felt it all the way down to her toes. Tilting her head again, she drank in the sight of him, standing in front of her in all his glory. Truthfully she had expected him to be shy and modest about anything approaching sex when they first moved in that direction, but the boyscout was really a cover for the deeply confident man underneath.
“Make love to me like this,” she whispered to him, watching his eyes darken even more. He was beside her in a second, pulling her towards him again, giving Lois the chance to study the look on his face that she couldn’t read. There was something about her and the cape and her in the cape that was moving him deeply, making this moment about so much more than just the two of them.
She didn’t have time to think about it because Clark’s arms were round her waist lifting her in the air, and two seconds later she found herself caught between his body and the wall, leaving his hands free to tie the corners of the cape together so it would stay on her.
Well, this was going to be different, Lois thought.
His mouth was on hers, hard and insistent. The feel of the cape round her combined with the hard planes of Clark was an unusual and interesting feeling; her skin was sensitised to the slightest touch. And this was Clark, so there was plenty of touching. His mouth was making its way from her collarbone to her breast and considering the way she was wedged in between Clark and the wall, there wasn’t a lot she could do. She settled for kissing his neck and wrapping her legs round his waist, running her fingers through his hair as she did so.
She could feel his hard length pressing against her thigh; this time wasn’t going to be soft and gentle and overwhelming, it was going to be something else entirely. Clark groaned in her ear, something that Lois take satisfaction in. She was the only one who heard him like that, his voice needy and desperate as he pleaded with her not to stop; she was the only one who could reduce the strongest man in the world to a quivering mass.
Lucky? Hell yes.
Her centre was dripping wet by now, the combination of Clark and his mouth and the cape and everything heightening her anticipation. Clark pressed his groin to hers and she thought she was on fire. Would he just hurry up and get in her already?
A laboured chuckle from Clark made her realise she had said that out loud. “Hang on, Lo….” he ground out, loosening his hold on her waist to wrap both hands round her legs and lift her higher before dropping her onto the long length of him. She gasped with the suddenness of it and the size of him, stretching her; she still hadn’t got used to that.
He buried his face in her shoulder, running his lips over the skin there, and began to move with increasing urgency, as though it was the most important thing in the world to get to the end, and soon. Lois gasped and moaned, gradually losing any sense of anything around her; the only thing that mattered was Clark and what he was doing right now.
One strong arm held her upright, and she didn’t know where the other one was until there was a loud crack somewhere to her right. Dimly Lois registered that there was now a small crater in the bedroom wall, made by Clark’s fist, but didn’t think any more of it when his hips snapped forward and she lost all sense of time and place. Her impending orgasm was just out of reach, but judging by the shallowness of Clark’s breathing, he wasn’t far behind her.
Her legs tightened round his waist and he thrust harder; they came simultaneously, howling into the room. Lois could feel herself soaring. This must be what it’s really like to fly, she thought, the only coherent thought she could manage.
Their laboured breathing was the loudest sound in the room now; Lois could only slump against Clark completely exhausted. He was kissing her shoulder still, humming in appreciation. The noise rumbled through Lois, making her smile.
Clark’s head finally lifted and he nuzzled her nose, smiling gently before resting his forehead against hers. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For what?” she asked, confused. “For this memory,” was his reply.
Lois smirked. If he wanted memories, there was plenty more where that came from.
It wasn’t the most obvious thing to do, but she’d always wondered what it would be like to wear it, or fly with it on, so she walked towards the floor length mirror in the corner of the bedroom and pulled the cape tight round her shoulders. The ‘S’ symbol stood out proudly, yellow against red. She’d always suited red.
In the mirror she could see Clark still sleeping, sprawled out on the spot where she’d been until her bathroom break five minutes. For some reason he loved to fall asleep on top of her. Not that she minded, but he was a big guy. Smirking to herself while thinking of her husband’s dimensions, she turned her attention back to how she looked in the cape. She tilted her head to look at her reflection from a different angle, letting her hair cascade over her back and shoulders.
Lois was so busy studying the look and feel of the cape against her skin that she didn’t notice Clark was awake until he was beside her. Tall and broad, he loomed over her. One hand reached out to grab a handful of the cape, and Lois wondered whether he would pull it off her slowly or just whip it off.
He did neither, using his hold on the cape to pull her sideways and closer to him. His other hand ran down her back, feeling the difference between the cape and her skin and the combination of the two. His head dropped to press a kiss to her shoulder, his mouth exploring it until he got to the spot where her neck met her shoulder and Lois couldn’t hold back a moan.
She had, realistically, expected that at some point, the amazing sex would plateau and just always be consistently amazing. But it seemed to get better every time. She had a minor panic attack at the thought that it would never stop being amazing, before wondering what on earth would be wrong with that. Clark’s hand didn’t stop running up and down her back, and his mouth kept doing amazing things to her neck, while Lois tried to mentally calculate what round number this was. Four, maybe?
A sudden chill made Lois focus on the present; Clark had let go of her and stepped back to look at her properly. His eyes, dark and dangerous, took in every inch of her. After what felt like an age, his eyes met hers.
“Looks better on you,” he said, his voice deeper than usual. Lois felt it all the way down to her toes. Tilting her head again, she drank in the sight of him, standing in front of her in all his glory. Truthfully she had expected him to be shy and modest about anything approaching sex when they first moved in that direction, but the boyscout was really a cover for the deeply confident man underneath.
“Make love to me like this,” she whispered to him, watching his eyes darken even more. He was beside her in a second, pulling her towards him again, giving Lois the chance to study the look on his face that she couldn’t read. There was something about her and the cape and her in the cape that was moving him deeply, making this moment about so much more than just the two of them.
She didn’t have time to think about it because Clark’s arms were round her waist lifting her in the air, and two seconds later she found herself caught between his body and the wall, leaving his hands free to tie the corners of the cape together so it would stay on her.
Well, this was going to be different, Lois thought.
His mouth was on hers, hard and insistent. The feel of the cape round her combined with the hard planes of Clark was an unusual and interesting feeling; her skin was sensitised to the slightest touch. And this was Clark, so there was plenty of touching. His mouth was making its way from her collarbone to her breast and considering the way she was wedged in between Clark and the wall, there wasn’t a lot she could do. She settled for kissing his neck and wrapping her legs round his waist, running her fingers through his hair as she did so.
She could feel his hard length pressing against her thigh; this time wasn’t going to be soft and gentle and overwhelming, it was going to be something else entirely. Clark groaned in her ear, something that Lois take satisfaction in. She was the only one who heard him like that, his voice needy and desperate as he pleaded with her not to stop; she was the only one who could reduce the strongest man in the world to a quivering mass.
Lucky? Hell yes.
Her centre was dripping wet by now, the combination of Clark and his mouth and the cape and everything heightening her anticipation. Clark pressed his groin to hers and she thought she was on fire. Would he just hurry up and get in her already?
A laboured chuckle from Clark made her realise she had said that out loud. “Hang on, Lo….” he ground out, loosening his hold on her waist to wrap both hands round her legs and lift her higher before dropping her onto the long length of him. She gasped with the suddenness of it and the size of him, stretching her; she still hadn’t got used to that.
He buried his face in her shoulder, running his lips over the skin there, and began to move with increasing urgency, as though it was the most important thing in the world to get to the end, and soon. Lois gasped and moaned, gradually losing any sense of anything around her; the only thing that mattered was Clark and what he was doing right now.
One strong arm held her upright, and she didn’t know where the other one was until there was a loud crack somewhere to her right. Dimly Lois registered that there was now a small crater in the bedroom wall, made by Clark’s fist, but didn’t think any more of it when his hips snapped forward and she lost all sense of time and place. Her impending orgasm was just out of reach, but judging by the shallowness of Clark’s breathing, he wasn’t far behind her.
Her legs tightened round his waist and he thrust harder; they came simultaneously, howling into the room. Lois could feel herself soaring. This must be what it’s really like to fly, she thought, the only coherent thought she could manage.
Their laboured breathing was the loudest sound in the room now; Lois could only slump against Clark completely exhausted. He was kissing her shoulder still, humming in appreciation. The noise rumbled through Lois, making her smile.
Clark’s head finally lifted and he nuzzled her nose, smiling gently before resting his forehead against hers. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For what?” she asked, confused. “For this memory,” was his reply.
Lois smirked. If he wanted memories, there was plenty more where that came from.