omg would you ever write about reader and clark falling asleep naked and when they wake up clark notices that she got her period over night and her blood is all over his stomach/thighs and she’s absolutely mortified and clark reassures her by giving her mind blowing period morning sex!! love the thought of them having messy period sex on day one 🤭
so sensual so delicious [explicit 18+]
clark could feel how slathered up and sticky his thighs were pressed together before opening his eyes. he absentmindedly realizes the tacky, wet feeling is also baring his stomach, some spare drops smearing the length of his cock. too tired to ponder it, to question whatever made their bed wet overnight. figures some of it was likely messier leftovers from how hard he’d taken her, hours of bliss without breaks in between besides fetching her more water then mounting himself right back on top of her to keep going. he cradles the woman beside him, scoots up closer with an arm lazily fastened over her side. both still as bare as they were born. clark figures he’ll have to do laundry today anyway, not paying whatever the mess was any mind and just kisses her shoulder. brushes her hair upward to get better access to her neck. warmly brushing some kisses along her back until her eyes softly blinked open, squinting.
“do you feel that?” she inquires, frustrated already with the aching pit irritating her stomach.
“mmhm. yeah, you okay? did I go too hard last night?”
he peers down and with the small shine of the sun piercing through the curtains, he’s able to make out the red staining his skin and hers.
“no— what the fuck, oh my god. god dammit, get up.”
“what’s wrong?”
she sighs and roughly rubs on her eyes, groaning. clark sees her already on the verge of tears.
“of course. of course this happened, why wouldn’t it,” she laughs coldly. gets up off the bed with the smallest stream of blood barely dripping down her inner thigh. he looks at her with deep concern in his stare. she snatches a towel and scrapes it between her legs like her body was the problem, turning more gentle to wipe his thighs and stomach off with another corner of the towel.
“hey hey hey, stop. stop. it’s fine, you don’t need to,” he tries to assure. grabs hold of her wrist, slight shake of his head and pleading with his eyes. “I don’t wanna get up. don’t want you getting up either,” clark pulls her in and shoos the towel out of her grasp off the bed to drape the floor. leans in to kiss the stubborn worry off. “lay down.”
“but it’s—it’s everywhere,” she tries.
“and I don’t care. come here.”
she whines and curses to herself, nevertheless complying with orders when they’re given in that specific tone.
“are you hurting, baby? come here, don’t move away from me.”
he crowds her in, tangles her up in his arms with little to no space left in between. “you know I think this is a pretty good sign. haven’t knocked you up yet,” he tries to laugh. she scoffs a pitiful laugh of her own and mumbles a pouty shut up.
“nope, m’not gonna,” he retorts. “you feel it in here, don’t you,” he asks with a thumb dipping down to her lower belly and pressing in, gently soothing circles. she winced but still leaned in, quietly asking for more. clark hums and kisses her face, her ears, her chin. he never stops rubbing her stomach, ever so slowly reaching down with his palm to cup her pussy whole. feels the dribbles of blood fall down and just keeps his hand there anyway, putting some pressure on her clit. he sees it on her face, the tired, groggy but pleased expression while her eyes softly fall closed. “that’s it. don’t worry about anything. just lay with me some more, I’ll make you feel good,” he promised. “I’ll make you cum, then I’ll make you breakfast, then you’ll get more rest. I’ll take care of the sheets. don’t think about anything right now. just like this, that’s perfect,” he praised, last few words going down to a whisper.
she unravels slowly, walls she built up now softly getting pushed down while clark whispers more sweet reassurances in her ear. taking his cock and swiping it up and down her bloody slit, cooing more that’s it, that’s it. let me make you feel better. her mewls in his ear only encourage him, lifting his cock head up to her clit to rub in deep circles. her pussy sheds some more blood on him but it doesn’t stop a thing. he takes his time playing with her lower lips, getting her clit warmed up before even lining up to enter. he wanted to take everything boiling inside her and melt it all away, and her clit was gonna be the spot to start.
he lets her start grinding on him herself, weak hips slightly finding the wet friction she’d been dripping down on his dick. clark is in a daze while he watched.
“yeah. just like that. you got it, keep on using me,” he heaves out. stray out of place curls from his hair stick to his forehead while the air in the room gets hotter, limbs of their bodies so closely woven together they could just stay like this, as one. clark felt extra clingy and protective when she was in any kind of pain. “you want me to put it in?”
“mhm, put it in,” she mumbles, lazily grinding back up against him, forgetting how sticky the blood between them gets as more little streams of red gush down on him. he licks the back of her neck, a long lick, almost growling when he lines the tip to her hole and starts sliding in. his hips remain gentle, hoping he won’t hurt her more than she’s already hurting from her natural monthly body aches and some soreness left from last night.
“how’s this pussy feeling, huh? she feel happy? getting better?”
her face is stuck in blissful concentration, closing her eyes and swaying back against his deeper thrusts, gasping while the creamy noise of him going in and out becomes louder. “you always make this pussy feel good,” she slurs. clark’s ego is successfully been stroked, now smiling devilishly while he picks up his speed, grazing her g-spot with his fat tip every pull out. blood soils the sheets and cakes his dick, a thick line around his base that shows exactly how far he’s gone inside her. the sound is extra sticky, extra wet while he fucks her good, smooth — running his length in deep circles that get her to clench.
“I love it, I love making you feel good. mmm you just take it so nice. baby don’t deprive me of this just cause of some blood, I wanna keep my girl’s pussy filled.”
she whines out long and noisy after he sweet talks her, feeling her body go dumb and numb while he kitten licks her neck and gives her kisses as he’s reaching around between the front of her legs to find her clit and play with it. blood is stuck and imprinted on his fingers, even getting underneath his short fingernails. it doesn’t come close to deterring his plans, rubbing and thrusting to rattle her walls and make her squeeze down and milk his dick so good.
“mmm. she’s getting ready on me, I can feel it. I know my girl. you’re gonna cum.”
she nods and stutters a gasp, one leg barely lifting up in the air off the bed. he takes it and holds it by her thigh, keeping his speed the same while she whines out his name, red soaking up his dick.
“cum on me, cum on me, let’s feel good together. let’s get rid of that attitude, I’ll fuck it right out of you.”
“baby—“
“thought some blood was gonna scare me off huh? not a chance—“
“baby I’m cumming,” she wails, quivering and squealing into a pillow, clamping down on him so hard he’s never felt her squeeze this tight. it throws his tempo off, makes him howl out in gruff pleasure while he keeps his cock lodged in now all the way from his tip to his end, staying buried deep to feel every movement of her body amidst orgasm.
“atta girl, atta girl—gosh that always feels so sweet,” he heaves. “damn, got me cumming too—gosh, here it comes,” he warns. feels her clamp down onto him once again, staying that way as his cum leaks out and spears into her walls, flooding her pussy and her womb. the sound of his cum, her cum, and her blood all combined is grotesque — exactly how he liked his sex with her.
“oh god, honey your pussy’s so good, I don’t even deserve pussy this good,” he cries out, ducking his head into her shoulder while he ruts the rest of it out, stray drops of cum falling out and sticking to her blood that’s stained his cock’s base. he wants to feel another explosion, wants to feel a river of her cum drip down onto his, so he pulls the hood of her clit up and roughly strokes it up and down, not stopping even while she whimpers like a wounded puppy. “shhh, just cum again for me, cum again, we both need it. yeah, my good girl.”
when she’s finished shaking and whining, clark takes his wet, bloody fingers and sucks them in his mouth right in her ear. making sure she hears him taste and devour everything.
“you think cumming on me is your favorite medicine?”
she’s so out of breath she doesn’t answer, rolling over to face him and dragging a leg over his waist to crowd into him, hugging him like this kind of fuck was everything she needed for what was to be a rough first three days.
“you falling back asleep? want some breakfast?” he whispers, brushing his fingers on her scalp, tucking some behind her ear.
“mmhm. lay with me awhile, then food.”
he chuckles and grabs onto her leg to massage the muscle. “you need protein, baby. I’ll make you some eggs and toast when you’re up. probably some bacon too, does that sound nice?”
“mmm.”
“good girl. let’s just relax. don’t want you upset,” he idly plays with her hair some more, relieved that he’s turned her mood around from how it started when she’d first woken up. the mess is bigger now, sticking their skin together in dried up blood and cum stuck between their bodies. it doesn’t have her clawing for a towel to clean it up again or scraping the red off her skin — she’s sated now. and when clark sees that he knows he’s fulfilled because she’s fulfilled.
. . .
so tender so lovely <3 I love period fics period sex bloody sheets bloody love
thank you for the love on my works it means so much to me I go crazy
toy flesh [explicit 18+] — [part 2] follow up to part 1 which is linked in my masterlist. this is lots of cute fluff, next part will get down to more filth. there are tons of nasty opportunities
. . .
She also thinks it somehow has to be a one off thing. A pricey, fancy one off toy that fakes a few cumshots after the first time she cleans and rides it, flooding this pool inside of her and all over her bedsheets. But there it goes again, and again, and again.
Topping her third round off by falling backwards near the headboard, new toy gripped tight into her palm while she slides it in and out to still feel full but finally give her hips a break. It was worth every penny, as ridiculous as the amount really was for a hole in the wall sex toy shop. A lot of the others looked sparkly and lengthy and quite pretty, but something about the girth and the hefty weight of the last (or the only?) one in stock on the shelf made her rush to grab it before anyone else could have.
After paying the man at the counter she keeps scoping out her surroundings for any prying eyes as she’s trying to sneak her giant new purchase, stuffing the box into her purse as best she can. It would be dishonest to say she didn’t rush to rip it out of the plastic, feel out the raw feel of the skin, the veins, the fat. It felt real. Unlike any other rubber playthings she’s bought in the past, this one was almost responsive to her touch somehow. Did it require batteries to act like that? To pulse when it feels her grip, or leak when she teased herself on the tip?
It would jump every time she spat on the head and rubbed the base up and down in a firm grip. Pre cumming right at the tip when she did her favorite forms of foreplay and fooled around with it like she’s playing pretend. It throbbed, it wiggled around, and most of all it fucking came. Like a man.
In warm, sudden bursts, she felt it oozing out while she was just getting started. As heaven sent as it felt in the moment, afterwards it made her furrow her brows and grab the toy again and even look down at her own pussy to ensure she wasn’t feeling things that weren’t really there. But lo and behold, it dripped down her inner thighs, slathering her blanket and oozing right out of the tip of the dildo.
It felt like magic. Like her new rubber cock was attached to a real living person — a needy, sensitive, girthy person hung like a horse that didn’t take a lot of teasing or effort to draw so much arousal out of. But the idea was silly, so much more nonsensical than the fact that it was probably nothing more than just an impressively built and nevertheless expensive toy with some kind of hidden wiring and technology that was capable of pulling off acting like a real living cock. Right?
She doesn’t bother questioning it after five or six rounds in one night over the Saturday of her last jobless weekend before the start of her new position the following Monday. It had done wonders for the stress in her body, the tense and worried state it was nearly permanently in. She’d gotten better at taking it all up to the hilt, stuffing it inside up to her stomach after taking an edible and throwing on whatever TV show could make decent background noise. She grins with her heavy lidded eyes falling closed while another load pumps inside her. The second one of the hour to be exact. That addicting feeling of her toy cock gradually just losing it, losing all control like her pussy did things that triggered this quick, heavy release.
She’ll hang around her home in nothing but her underwear and her robe, eating cookie dough ice cream straight out of the carton, higher than a dopey teenager stuck in her own element. It doesn’t take long for her to take her favorite toy and rut her clit against it until it got warm like some kind of horny genie lamp. And then like clockwork it fills up for her again like it’s getting hard, twitchy, and ready all just for her pleasure. In the very back of her head she thinks this thing is so real it could have the off chance of somehow getting her pregnant since the cum had the consistency and the warmth of a real breathing person.
When Monday inevitably arrives, she gives up making sure every single hair stays in place and just parts it all to one side, buttoning up her favorite coat as armor against the unpredictable weather. As she strolled along the streets to her new work building, petting the dogs passing by on their owners’ leashes and twirling the cord of her headphones, she imagines what kind of office would hire someone like her. Blunt, casual, some neurological differences that make it difficult to focus if the topic didn’t interest her. Virtually no prior experience in the field she’s been hired in. It didn’t feel real getting the call back to learn she’d been selected, but who the hell was she to call them stupid for picking her of all the candidates?
The hustle and bustle was apparent as soon as she entered the building, asking around with wide eyes where her section was, what floor was she supposed to go to. Everyone looked busy but remained patient and kind, directing her to her floor, telling her to find a tall, shaggy haired man by the name of Clark.
It wasn’t hard to seek him out of everybody else, large frame still evident even with his hunched over posture, diligently typing away on his computer. When he looks up she was struck to find that he was almost dangerously beautiful. Handsome, pretty, dorky, everything that had always baited her into making terrible decisions. Just by talking to him she could tell he had anxiety, stiff movements and facial expressions that had her wondering if he was nervous from the pressure of being in charge of a new hire, or if he was more specifically nervous about being around her in particular.
Clark is attentive and sweet, helpful and patient with her learning new things, getting used to the environment and what was to be the new routine. Picking up the mail, distributing the mail, transferring phone calls, helping Lois with office duties and finding supplies with low stock to re-order. Certain areas felt overwhelming but overall the job itself seemed mundane. The only thing sticking out to her was Clark and his antsy eyes and big arms, anxious ticks and shy smiles. How he bent over backwards to help her with just about every question thrown his way or another way, making himself of use to her in any way she may have needed.
On her smoke break she feels the rain start to pour within seconds of going outside, and although she’s walked through rain and shine plenty it was still a bit of a test to see how far Clark would actually go if she’d asked to take her home. And he was so eager, so easy. If she got to know him well enough and if they became comfortable enough, she could give him the nickname of being her own mister Yes Man. Yeah, of course I’ll take care of that for you. Yes, you don’t have to worry about that, I’ve got it. Yup, no worries. Yeah, I’ll get this going for you. He was so full of yes’s she almost wonders what the limit may be.
Throughout the day he reciprocates just about every glance, every minor, innocent brushing of arms and fingers and touches on each other’s shoulders, upper back, arms. He hands her a pen and she grazes his fingers entirely on purpose and doesn’t hide dragging the moment out. The more she does the more flustered he’s become.
When Jimmy meets her and shakes her hand, he pulls her aside to whisper in her ear that Clark is very, very single and she laughs so hard she snorts. And when Clark comes back from his lunch break wearing different trousers than he was before he left, she doesn’t attempt any subtlety at eyeing his new pants up and down and shrugging with a little knowing nod at what might’ve made him have to change. Clark makes up some half baked lie about spilling hot sauce on his other pair, and she nods enough to try convincing him she believes it.
After her training is done and the paperwork is filed and the day is finally, finally over she gets a nod from Clark across the room, tilting his head in the direction of the elevators with briefcase in hand. He nudged his glasses further up his face and sniffled, waving bye to staff and pressing the button to head down, holding the door open with an extended arm.
“Thanks so much again by the way,” she graciously squeezed the thick muscle of his upper arm as the elevator doors close. Clark’s turned bashfully red almost immediately, chin down at the ground pretending to look at his shoes.
“It’s nothing. I really wouldn’t want you um, getting all soaked out in the rain, that wouldn’t be right. I’m glad you felt safe enough to ask me.”
“Of course I did. You’ve been nothing but a big sweetheart. Seriously, if anyone’s intimidated by the height they could have one conversation with you and it’ll change their mind,” she laughs, meeting his wide eyes framed by his thick glasses. The elevators ding to alert they’ve arrived to their destined floor, Clark taking a second too long to process before shoving his arm back out to stop the doors from closing in on them again. His version of a curse word slips under his breath while he nearly drops his briefcase, clearly still tripping and stumbling his way out to the parking garage.
“Well I guess so. I’m not that tall. Maybe a little over average, but— I hope I’m not intimidating. Um, here, let’s go this way,” Clark awkwardly trails off, pointing to his little beat up blue vehicle parked way over in the corner. When he points it out she wonders how he even fits himself in there.
“Uh, usually I prop the drivers seat back for my legs. A little crammed but I’ve had her since I started driving. My Pa gifted me this, and she’s still been up and running good after all these years so I don’t really see a need for finding anything else.”
She nods her head and smiles, impressed. He doesn’t let her hand go even near the handle, ripping it open and holding it while she slides in and sets her bag down on the floor near her feet. “Wow. You know, that shows a ton of loyalty to keep one of these for years like you have. I like that.”
He sheepishly nods his head with curls moving on his forehead before gently closing the door and jogging over to the other side.
She takes in her surroundings, observing the little details. His hanging dog charm around the rearview mirror. Taking in all the neatness, the warm vanilla scented air fresheners. How the seat is propped back as far as it could possibly go to accommodate for his height. She notes how he kept himself a spare pair of glasses in one of the cupholders, another style than the ones he wore to the office. When he turns the car on, music began to boom through the speakers, jolting him with a twitch as he rushed to turn the volume all the way down, laughing through a string of apologies. She only giggles harder, clearly less upset than he was, more amused if anything.
Each mundane little thing about Clark piled more on to this growing irresistible urge to just make the plunge already, to crawl in his lap, to kiss him so hard his glasses get crooked and eventually fall right off his face. It became more tempting with each passing glance from the side, every accidental brush of her thigh with his hand while he shifted gears, a murmured apology with those signature pink cheeks. He always looked so embarrassed, and it somehow always served to really turn her on.
“Uh, so I’ll turn here right?”
“Yeah. Yeah just, just turn then you’ll go straight for a while. I’ll let you know when we’re approaching.”
Clark follows directions, going about five miles below the speed limit as he keeps his eyes on each house passing by, curiously wondering which one could be her home. Was it the well groomed, modern style with a picket fence, or an old school, overgrown lawn with an artsy mailbox?
He slows down more as the end of the street was coming, pulling off to the side as she pointed out her home. Clark forgets to hide how eager he is to scope it out, the little pink painted one story home with healthy plants branching out from their pots on the porch, the lady bug mat, the absence of any cars parked out front. Figures she must only get around anywhere on foot.
Rain still patters on the windshield as his windshield wipers barely keep up in time from the heavy drops, and puddles outside forming in the potholes of the road. Her plants looked to be the only happy ones to have some rain to quench them.
“This is me right here,” she reluctantly says, a sigh leaving her throat while she peers back over to the man in the driver’s seat. “I had fun, says a lot for a first day at a new job. Those are always pretty stressful but you’re such a great teacher that I know I’ll be in good hands,” she says, rubbing the lipgloss leftover on her lips together while eyeing him up and down, back and forth between his pretty face and his robust chest.
“I… I’m not that good, you just made it easy,” he disputes. “You asked all the right questions, you’re smart. I know you’ll get the hang of it real soon—“
“—You know, when I met Jimmy today he told me you were single,” she interjects before her mind could steer her away from the risky decision. “So was he… was he joking or was he—“
Clark groans loud, making a fist and then nearly slamming his forehead into it to hide his face, mortified that Jimmy set him up like this. To have this awkward interaction with his now co-worker.
“Gosh…. of course he did… that’s— no. I’m sorry he was acting inappropriate—“
“No as in you’re not single.”
Clark pulls his head back up, blinks, utterly confused.
“No, no I’m—“
“No as in yes?”
“N-No, no as in he’s right. I… I am, it’s just I didn’t want him disclosing stuff like that that to you, that information. Like as if you’d even care if a co-worker is single or not is ridiculous. If he makes you uncomfortable again I can talk to him, it doesn’t have to be a whole HR thing but if you want it to be I can absolutely help…”
She chews her bottom lip to prevent another shit eating grin from spreading onto her cheeks, placing a deliberate hand back on his upper arm to nab his attention, soothe any of his sudden woes.
“Listen, stop. Listen to me Clark. I was asking to clarify it with you because I was hoping that he was right,” she admits, a soft laugh not far behind the end of her small confession, trailing off with a rub of his shoulder, making him hold his breath and keen from the contact.
“You um. So you aren’t freaked out, you aren’t uncomfortable in any way? I just can’t imagine what it’s like, being a… a woman. A beautiful woman you know, like you, in a new workplace and having men be obnoxious on top of that—“
Clark stutters and takes a breather, shutting his car off and tilting his head up so his neck is exposed, blankly looking up at the ceiling.
“Clark.”
“Yeah?”
He doesn’t look back down or turn his head, Adam’s apple of his throat bobbing as he swallows more nerves down.
“I’m not uncomfortable. Not freaked out. And if you want me to just get my stuff and go, not mention any of this tomorrow, then I could,” she starts. Clark takes a deep breath in like he wants to interrupt, but she holds a finger up and he obeys, shutting his mouth closed. “Or,” she began. “I could kiss you for being so sweet, and we can act normal tomorrow, but you can give me another ride home if you aren’t busy again. And we can see where this goes.”
The drop of his jaw was nearly out of a cartoon, heartbeat throbbing so fast it might as well be audible in the quiet of the small space of his car. He can’t take his eyes off her, blinking ever so slightly when his eyes start to dry up. It looked like he wanted to pinch himself just to make sure everything was real.
“I… I really like the second option more. A lot.” he finally mutters. Licks his lips while staring down at hers like he had countless times today, this time with layers of restraint stripped away.
“I like the second option more too,” she chuckles at his dumbstruck face, soothing a palm over his thigh and rubbing his flexed muscles through his trousers. “I also noticed you changed your pants after lunch.”
Clark swallows while her face comes closer, nearly nose to nose, sharing and exchanging breath.
“Uh, yeah, yeah I….”
“That story about spilling some hot sauce was bullshit, right?”
Clark nods without a second thought, confirming everything she already knew.
“Did you have a little too much fun? Make too much a mess, had to end up changing before you got back to the office?”
“Yeah, yeah I did,” he bows his head down a bit, licking his lips again. Still close enough to smell her perfume, to stare at the glittery shine of her lipgloss, begging to know what it tastes like.
“I thought so.”
Clark doesn’t get another moment to think or conjure up a response before she’s leaning in and he’s dreamily shutting his eyes, humming into her mouth while she tilts her head to the side. Her nails splay out across his neck while he whimpers in her mouth, trying to keep up and savor the exquisite taste of her while he can. With plenty of hesitation trying to hold him back, he goes for it anyway and takes his own palm to the middle of her back, hugging her close to him while they kept making out like it wasn’t any different than coming home after years of being away.
“You’re really pretty, makes it really hard,” he pants. Pulls away but not too far, lips still brushing hers as he speaks.
She laughs right at him, tucking a curl behind his ear and adjusting his glasses so they’re straight again on his face. “Apt word choice there.”
“No! No I mean, that’s not what I meant….”
“As much as embarrassment looks cute on you, you don’t have to be,” she assures with another giddy laugh, kissing his cheek and leaving a subtle glossy mark on the skin. Then aims for each corner of his lips only to be pulled back in by him to get the heated momentum back up and running.
“You’re unbelievable,” he breathes. “I want to just… I wanna keep going forever.”
Shit, is he talking too much too soon?
“I mean you don’t have to, really, you can head home whenever you like… I only meant I like this a lot.”
She doesn’t let his overthinking become worse, just grabbing him by the collar and kissing him again. Adding tongue swirls into the mix.
“You taste like your Spearmint gum,” she observes. “Really nice.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Clark nods, his meek persona still in full swing even after having her tongue in his mouth. “You’d tell me if my breath was bad, right?”
“Of course I would.”
The pair still kept exploring each other’s kissing techniques, her hands stroking his arms and his chest while Clark’s stayed on the middle of her back in easy circles. It could’ve been ten, fifteen, even twenty minutes passing by while the rain hardly lightens up from pouring out from the gray clouds scattered in the sky. Clark offers to walk her up to the door so she could get home safe and dry, and she couldn’t pass up the offer, even if he kept reassuring her he didn’t mean to allude to any funny business. He takes off his own jacket to hover it over her head as they make the short trip, insisting he does it as to not get her hair wet.
“I like your plants, your place is cute. I can pick you up and take you home tomorrow if you’re up for that.”
She grins and gets up on her tippy toes to kiss him once again, an innocent little smooch he graciously accepts and reciprocates.
“And how about the day after that, and then the day after that, and the next week after that…”
Clark laughs at her and puts his jacket he’d been using to shield her from getting doused by the rain, squeezing her hip with another smile and going back in for yet another because it was too good to pass up.
“Absolutely. Rain or shine, I’ve got you.”
“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Bright and early. Do you have my number? Wait, hold on,” she unzips her purse and shuffles through it before finding her keys, unlocking the door and barging inside. Clark remains respectfully at the doormat, not willing to push any boundary this early, besides a car makeout here and there. He watches her in blissful astonishment as she scribbles on a piece of paper, folds it up then marches back to put it in his front pocket herself.
“For emergencies. And you know, anything else.”
Anything, she says. Anything else. “Right. Yeah. I’ll text you.”
“Please do. And text me when you’re home safe!”
“I will,” he chuckles, leaning his head back down to steal another goodbye kiss before he walks back to his car with a pep in his step that he hasn’t had in a long, long time.
“Bye!”
She waves from her porch before he chastises her to get back to her house so she doesn’t stay in the rain, but she just sticks her tongue out at him then goes back anyway.
It all felt intoxicating. He wondered if he could even drive in such a distracted, head in the clouds state like this.
His gut fluttered with butterflies and his cheeks hurt from smiling so much, back on autopilot as he starts up the car, blasts the volume back up and turns back to the main road. It felt overwhelmingly unreal that he can still taste her lip gloss and how much it’s rubbed off on him. How he can still feel the ghost of her hands touching and caressing parts of him that haven’t been touched and felt like that. He has stars floating above his head like he’d been knocked the fuck out, unconscious.
Just as he’s venturing back to the street towards his place, his dick starts to feel wet against his left thigh. Still trapped by his boxers and his trousers, that same familiar sensation creeping back up on him before he could press the gas after a red light turns green. He clenches his jaw and tries to stay concentrated with tight hands on the wheel. Gasping when his dick starts getting tingling as he’s teased and rutted on by that same mysterious force, gliding him in between their lips, teasing their opening with his tip.
Clark barely makes it home and sticks his face in the steering wheel, licking his lips, breathing with his mouth stuck open. He feels when it goes inside, how the thrusts are long and filling and slow at first, excruciatingly wonderful as it’s taking him in down to his balls. Drenching him down with wet arousal on every pull out. His full body shivers again, butts his head against the wheel five times before accidentally bumping the horn.
Mortified with horror, he ducks his head down as much as he could and peaked around to catch only a few witnesses of his neighbors taking out their trash bins out on the curb. He awkwardly waves and subtly grabs onto his bulge through his trousers, dampness seeping through the fabric. With a braced huff, he counts to ten to enjoy the warm embrace before he’s exiting his vehicle, slamming the door and not bothering to fix his floppy hair before snatching his briefcase from the backseat, covering his crotch from the world and jogging to his door, soft rain still falling from above.
When he makes it inside he throws his belongings to the ground, rushes his clothes off akin to how he did on his lunch break earlier. As naked as he was born with those glasses still on, he lies back on the couch and clenches his jaw, absently thrusting up into the unknown heat. Feels the heat react with more tight clenches, taking his breath away. He closes his eyes and hugs a pillow to his abdomen while he pictures his new co-worker on top of him again, bouncing just like this wet heat on top of him right now. Wants her lipgloss to stick to his skin, wants to be engulfed in her hair, her perfume, her smile. Her laugh when she’s making fun of him.
Without any warning but the pit in his stomach squeezing and dropping, he cums like a fountain and it ripples out of him so fast it punches him into a straighter posture, all the sudden sitting up. He sees his own cum lathering his dick and his pubes, and he can distinguish the very moment she’s cumming not long later too.
After Clark lays there and chugs an old but full glass of water lying on his coffee table, he caught up to his breath as he tries to get himself together to draft up a text when he finds the energy to get up and pull that crumbled piece of paper out of his pant pocket.
With multiple tired, anxious tries of attempting to find some neutral ground between sounding caring and interested versus sounding desperate or obsessive, he takes a deep breath and presses send before he could talk his mind out of it.
Hey this is Clark. I made it back home safe awhile ago and forgot to let you know. Just wanna say I had fun and I’ll pick you up around 8:30 if that’s cool. Good night :)
Clark thinks of throwing his phone across the room to ignore the insecurities bubbling out of him. What else should I say. Was what I said too much. Will she even want to kiss me again? She said she’d tell me if my breath tasted bad. What if tomorrow things are different—
A text tone buzzed his couch cushion, phone screen lighting up. Surprised but delighted, he rips it back up off the couch and shoves it in his face to read carefully.
I probably had even more fun than you. Glad you’re home safe and I’ll see you tomorrow :) 8:30 sounds perfect Mr. Yes Man. I’ll be waiting out front for you, get good rest! goodnight!
Gobsmacked, he’s left re-reading the same words over and over and over until his eyes grew heavy and he knew time for bed was gonna have to be a little early tonight. He brushes his teeth, wishing he could keep the remnants of her lips on his mouth but knows he just has to wait until tomorrow for more kisses. With a hiss he scrubs his dick of the sloppy mess left thick and slathered on his entire lower half with a warm washcloth.
While he’s in bed he idly wonders what her nights looked like. If she spends them alone like Clark does. If she was more outgoing than him, had people over, went out more. If her life had more color on the pages than his. Dirtier thoughts naturally start to seep in after that, threatening to really take over the narrative he’s built in his mind. Does she touch herself nearly as much as he does? Can she cum multiple times if she’s coaxed? Does she take more charge or does she want him to take over? Or maybe she wanted both. He could do both.
Endless wonders still can’t help flooding his thoughts, so much so that they infiltrate his dream as he slowly drifts off to sleep. Dreaming of her on top of him, of playing with his tie before yanking on it to pull him around as she pleased. She got down further and nuzzled her cheek against his bulge through his office pants and took him out to lick it down like a lollipop was between his legs, even squeezing on him so good it hurt a little bit.
The dream ended with her on top and riding him, backwards cowgirl style, tight hold of his tie still in her fist. When he’s pulled out of his dream and awoken it’s around two in the morning, and somehow his dick had gotten just as wet and used in the night again, this time while he wasn’t even conscious. Clark thought he’d aged out of having any more dirty, raw, cum-in-his-pants type of wet dreams like these. He guessed that now after the day that he had and the girl that he met that everything was about to turn upside down.
. . .
thank you thank you to everyone who commented and reblogged and liked my first part im so happy you guys are enjoying its so fun reading everyone’s reactions :) i like the alternating POVs too for this between her + him
****(only able to fit 50 tags per post, I’ll make another one linked to this post so I can tag the rest!)
(partial) tag list: @7angel7spit7 @imsonotweird @fuhinn77-blog @sunflowers-and-rainy-days @astraea-and-her-novels @brains-2-beauty @theplaid-wearingmoose @navybluelover @kirbyisking99 @ifyouseethisnoyoudont22 @idontexistrightnow @caffeineaddicty @tinythebunni @contaminatedcupcake @klarkcentral @tragicgirl23 @carlandoxlestappen @thecheeseman27 @darker0moon221b @bad-wolf1991 @just-aliyah @iceyyycapsicle @rrosesandtears *rest of tag list will be in separate post linked to this one cause of the tag limit!
toy flesh [explicit 18+] — [part 1] Clark randomly feels someone sitting on his dick even when he’s alone in his room. pretty much. part one for that magic toy prelude in my masterlist
. . .
Clark thinks it has to be a one off thing. Has to be. A wet dream too close to reality that somehow got his dick a little too wet. A hallucination manifested in some relaxing body tremors that felt so good it ultimately had him cumming everywhere in his pants, untouched, with the book he was nose-deep in forgotten while he lied down and stared at the wall in wide eyed, wide-mouthed shock. What just happened? How did that just happen?
He holds out hope that maybe he’ll get to touch himself and get rid of this pent up energy, get it flushed out of his system, not feel the same unexplained touch of someone else’s body—someone else’s flesh directly on top of him. While he goes about his daily routine before work he doesn’t ever stop looking down at his dick like he’s checking in on it. See if it falls off or grows a bigger brain of its own. Pulls his waistband out to take a confused peak while he’s scrubbing his teeth, foam running down the corner of his mouth. Watches his dick swing around and reluctantly roll upward and harden again from the memory even as he’s ironing the fine lines in his button down shirt.
It felt juvenile. It felt ridiculous.
What grown man couldn’t keep it down and stay soft for a dull eight hour work day?
He has to fondle himself to the memory again before he leaves, cum uncontrollably splashing just about everywhere even though he prepares himself with a tissue right at the tip. The shirt he spent nearly fifteen minutes ironing had to get thrown in the wash and replaced with something wrinkly and unkempt, but at least it was free of cum stains.
Clark sighs as the elevator door opens up to his office floor, trudging over to his desk and setting his briefcase down. Skips right over to their break room’s coffee maker to brew up a sugary full cup for the day ahead of him. Jimmy gave him a greeting with a rougher pat on the shoulder, jolting Clark in a reactionary shiver when he thinks back to being touched in bed by no one or something while he was withering all alone in his room.
He pushes his glasses up his scrunched up nose, letting out an almost disgruntled sounding hey.
Jimmy squints at him, noticing the offbeat attitude of his close friend and coworker. “You good, man? Sleep alright last night or did somebody take a hot piss in your Froot Loops?”
“Slept… slept fine, it’s just I’m kinda going through stuff right now. I don’t know.”
Clark swallows and stirs his steaming cup after dropping another sugar cube in. Jimmy pats his shoulder once again, trying to get Clark to meet his eyes with a tilt of his head.
“You know… maybe it’s about time.”
“What?”
“You know, dude, maybe it’s that time. Time for you to get yourself laid. I think it could help flush out some of these nerves in your system. You seem so tense. I know a few girls that would hop on that train, if you know what I mean.”
Clark turns beat red rather quickly, taking a long sip to gather his thoughts and come up with a response.
“Yeah you couldn’t have been any more direct actually. I… listen I understand, but it’s not that. Trust me, I’m getting… more than you think. I guess. Cause something like, something happened last night, I don’t even know how to explain it. And I liked….. it. It’s just really weird so maybe now’s not the time to discuss—“
Jimmy laughs a long, boyish giggle and slaps one of Clark’s broad shoulders, pulling Clark further aside into the corner with a look around for any coworkers meandering.
“Dude, I knew it. You found yourself a lady. You’ve been getting some and you haven’t been telling me. That’s really lame of you man, I thought our friendship had no barriers—“
“I haven’t met a— look, okay, it was weird, and I mean really really weird. I don’t know if you’ll understand it or if it’ll just sound crazy.”
“Whatever crazy thing you’re about to say, I’ve probably done crazier,” Jimmy assures with a knowing nod paired with a grin. “Trust me.”
“Uh, okay….” Clark clears his throat and lowers his voice, leaning down to Jimmy’s ear level. “Have—have you ever like, came untouched before? Felt someone…. down there…. even though no one else was in the room?”
Clark stares at Jimmy now, loosening the tie around his collar like he’s already broke out in another sweat just thinking about it. Wondering if it might happen again. If he has some odd guardian angel that likes to fuck him and look after him all at the same time.
“You mean you finished, no hands, completely dry? You’re living the dream. Should be more grateful. Why do you look so terrified right now.”
Clark closes his eyes and pinches his brows in a long sigh before nodding to Jimmy to follow him to the bathrooms after setting his coffee on his desk. With uneasy paranoia he peers down to check for any feet on the floor in the stalls before he continues.
“I… I don’t think you get it. It felt like someone literally rode me, like, put me inside them and came on my dick and everything. I wasn’t doing anything! Wasn’t even hard before it started happening, I was just reading. I don’t know how else to explain this or make it any clearer to you!”
Jimmy looks astounded after every word, awestruck with an open mouth. Even flashes of envy pass through his eyes while he chuckles and shakes his head. Typical Clark and his way of complicating things. Overthinking what truly sounded like a gift. “Sounds like a you’re being haunted by a friendly ghost that just wants to hop on that thing, dude. So what did it really feel like? And can I get one too?”
Clark closes his eyes and his mind goes back to last night. In the comfort of his soft sheets, legs sprawling out and taking over the entirety of his bed. How right when the plot of his novel started taking off he felt almost a tickle. A wiggle of what felt like a smooth, slithery tongue. It was unrecognizable when it started, like maybe he had an itch down there to scratch, or maybe some blood began randomly flowing down south.
When it became unmistakeable, too soft and wet to deny what was happening to him, he slammed his book shut with the bookmark in place and spread his legs wider, feeling the sweat breaking out. Feels his dick happily jump right into the warm invisible hole teasing his tip. He felt the hole clench down and struggle to take him all, slowly inching up and down like a bunny on top of what it could take. He clenched a fist at his side and held his dick up with a thumb, raising his hips gently into the heavenly heat. How the pace it had going stuttered when he did, probably in shock that he had more of himself to give.
Clark remembers crying with pleasure, pre cum getting drained out of him so effortlessly, so smoothly. Drool picks up on his tongue while he’s nearly going cross eyed, the pussy on top of him bouncing harder, bouncing faster—
“It feels— it feels unbelievable. I mean it was incredible,” Clark answers Jimmy’s question that had awkwardly hung in the air. “Haven’t felt anything like it before. Something might be seriously wrong with me.”
Jimmy raises a brow. “Watching too much porn? Just take a break. Meet a girl.”
Clark’s full body shivers, goosebumps now swarming up his arms and the back of his neck, making all the hairs there start to stand up. He feels an eager hand all the sudden grab onto his bare cock and slick their palm down, cold and wet like the hand had a puddle of lube to gloss him down.
If it hasn’t visibly shown up as a wet spot on his groin through his trousers yet, by the feeling of it it’ll start showing a dark spot soon. If he didn’t take his dick out it would surely start a puddle that would only dry as a fresh stain.
Clark takes a deep, shaky breath, turning over to grab onto the tile of the wall, resting his forehead against it and gripping like he’s engulfed in pain. Like his surroundings started spinning all around him.
“Woah, Clark. Dude. Take it easy. What’s happening?”
Jimmy gets closer to check on his friend but Clark can’t take it, shooing him off with a hurried no, it’s fine—just get out of here. I need a second. thanks!
“You sure you’ll be able to hold up the rest of today? You have enough leave. I’m sure Lois would understand—”
“Just, just…. I need to take a— I’ll take a ten, okay,” he whimpers, clutching onto the humiliating bulge growing so fast he already was showing a hefty print. “Maybe a fifteen. I can’t—I don’t know.” The hand stopped slicking up and down his cock and he feels it tease him by rubbing his length up and down a pearly wet slit, not yet having him enter.
He shoos Jimmy away and hurries to a stall, slamming it shut and locking it with his back to the door while his dick bobs around for more of her attention. Tingles sprout in his belly while his whole body starts to tense.
“Uh, okay,” Jimmy mutters. “Well I’ll leave you to it I guess? Here for you buddy. Don’t piss off your ghost girlfriend. Maybe next time she won’t fuck you as good if you do,” he laughs.
“Shut. The door. And shut. Up!” Clark howls, fumbling with his zipper and rushing to roll some toilet paper up into a ball for his tip when he’s hanging out of his boxers. He distantly hears his friend mumble a jeez, so touchy. sorry and the door creaks open and falls closed. With privacy at last, Clark is able to heave and thrust his hips gently into the beautiful, tight wet heat, little abstract murmurs and whimpers leaving his throat while his dick gets wetter, and wetter, and wetter.
“Don’t—Don’t, don’t want you to stop,” he quietly begs. Veins popping on his temple from all the straining his body is doing. “But I… I have to get back to work.”
Whatever is wrapped around his cock doesn’t pay his words any mind, sinking down all the way to his balls and creaming on his base the more they start their rough bouncing. Like they’re angry, like they’re taking everything out on his cock. Clark wished he knew what he did wrong, or maybe what he did right to deserve this kind of treatment from someone he couldn’t even see.
“I’m not gonna last, I’m not, it feels so good…. feels too good…. I can’t handle this again, not right now,” he breathes. Sees his tip bead more floods of pre cum and slip down the base of his cock, getting his balls messy with slick. The sound is obscene, with every up and down motion everything can be heard. How wet the pussy around him really is. How his cock stuffs it all the way through. If somebody came in right now, they would think he’s having real sex with a real body in this stall right now. When in all honestly, Clark doesn’t know what he’s having.
“Oh my gosh, gosh you’re more wet this time, you’re getting it so wet…. You’re gonna get me in trouble, wait…. please.”
The pussy on top of his dick starts to quiver, tremble and squeeze him down harder than before. Like it’s finally found release after a record of an eight minute round of going nuts on him like he’s nothing but a toy built strictly for their use.
Some cum that isn’t even his starts dribbling down on him, and that’s when the floodgates start to open. Clark can’t hold it anymore, and he doesn’t know how bad it’s gonna be trying to both cover his load and then clean it all up.
He whimpers and squeezes his eyes shut once again, knuckles turning white while he holds on for dear life and busts another long, drawn out nut into whatever this thing is that’s tortured him yet again. He spits out rope after rope of cum in the waiting piece of balled up paper and tries to catch it all there but a few stray drips do manage to burst out too fast for him to act. He sprays a part of the wall and whines a little no, please, please no, you made me cum too hard again, I need to get back to work.
The come down is always humbling. Seeing exactly how foolish he was acting as the sweat under his arms and on his face visibly stains his clothes and his skin. He managed to wipe off his messy cum lines off the wall and stuffs another rolled up ball of toilet paper down his boxers to soak up whatever else is leftover in his pants.
When he feels ready enough he’s still catching his breath and trying to get his blushing face under control as he heads over to the sink to splash some water on his face. Presses on the soap dispenser over and over again until more than a mountain of soap is bubbling in his palm, lathering his sticky, filthy hands.
Clark fights everything inside him to try and act natural when he heads back to his desk. Ruffles his hair more than necessary, tightens his tie, rolls up his sleeves.
The cup of coffee he’d made had lost most of its heat but Clark was so preoccupied in his head he doesn’t notice, still gulping some down and logging back into his computer to answer more messages and emails that were left for him. His eyes zone in on an email he’d been CC’d in from Jimmy and Lois about an upcoming new hire’s start date for their vacant Office Assistant position.
The email read that Clark would be assigned as the one primarily training her since he’d started out in her exact title position a year ago. Clark adds a thumbs up to the email and closes out of it to start on another assignment, thinking in the very back of his head that if his dick can’t control himself while he’s training said new hire next week he’d be blowing his brains out, not out of his cock next time.
Jimmy side eyes him from across the room, mouthing a you good? much to Clark’s bashful shake of his head, assuring him with a roll of his eyes and a tired response of yeah, I’m fine. shut up.
Lois comes out of the blue up behind him and drops a fat stack of paperwork on Clark’s desk with a tight smile.
“New hire coming in next week. You got my email right?”
Clark nods and leans back in his chair, casual as he can muster.
“She’ll have to mostly rely on you for help and onboarding, since me and Jimmy have too much going on. Travel, deadlines, some new leads finally getting back to us for interviews. So you’ll take her under your wing for us, yeah?”
“Of course. It’s not uh, it won’t be a problem,” he answers under his breath, taking another sorry sip of his lukewarm coffee. He hopes the thing in his pants won’t be a problem.
“You sure? Jimmy said you didn’t look well. You can’t call out and leave her all alone here on her first few days, it’s gonna be overwhelming in the start—“
“Jimmy doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I’m fine. It’ll get taken care of,” he promised.
“Alright, then don’t get her sick, got it?”
Clark wants to slap Jimmy for even bringing up his frazzled state to anybody in the office, mortified over what had taken place barely ten minutes ago, and how unpredictable his dick was gonna act for a while. Or forever. Who even knows at this point.
“My germs are all mine,” he swears, hands defensively up in the air. “Count on it.”
Lois gives him another one of her hard stares that basically told him she’d make him eat his words if he dared showing up to the office coughing, sneezing, puking. Clark was only worried about leaving his desk for twenty minutes at a time to get his dick rode by the same tempting mystical source he had yet to fully identify, let alone begin to understand.
It never left his brain even while he worked, back of his pen stuck in his mouth to chew on while he wrote up more emails and forwarded ones from their general inbox. Hours had gone by until he had about forty five more minutes left until he could be freed and finally head home, and Clark really thought he was in the clear of having another accident during work hours.
That was up until the fucking tease went at it again. The warm, sopping wet tightness wraps around his tip and slips him in, no mercy given. His dick springs back to life effortlessly, and Clark wants to cry.
He holds his head by covering his face with both hands, scooting his swivel chair forward so his crotch was safely hidden underneath. He drools an ungodly amount at the tip, feeling how eager this round was for her, how quickly she ruts against him and has him crying softly into the sleeve of his shirt.
Clark’s mewling and groaning is muffled into his arm, too helpless to hold in any of his noise when they move in sways up and down, switching off between going deep and going shallow with their pushes. Clark is beat red all over again, giving up after several minutes of unabashed torture and shielding his wet crotch with his briefcase pressed up against him, running off back to the toilets this time to sit down and breathe while undeniably enjoying everything being done to him. Fuck the last thirty minutes of his shift. Fuck the emails and the phone calls and the scans and the letters.
Clark shuts his eyes and actually smiles for a change as he eggs on whatever higher power bouncing on top of him to keep going. Nods his head and can’t help his soft murmurings of please, yeah, yeah keep doing that, you do it so good.
It might be his new imaginary best friend, or it might be his first sign to go to a mental hospital. Whatever it was, since it’s made Clark cum this hard, he guessed it couldn’t have mattered too much if it always made him feel this good.
. . .
The weekend was spent the same way. Getting his dick milked while he lied back and screeched every time she squeezed on him some way, somehow. He doesn’t answer anyone that texts him for plans, doesn’t do the dishes or take care of his laundry like how he’d hoped. No. He whines and stutters and cries, barely able to get in the shower without his dick getting trampled on.
It’s not a long shot to think he could be developing something. A mental illness. A haunted curse that plagues him with orgasms at all times of the night and the day. He’s one more round away from calling somebody to perform an exorcism or splash holy water on him to escape this succubus that had to be laughing in his face at how easy he is to rile up.
When Monday comes around again Clark doesn’t want to take any chances traumatizing the new hire with all the blotches of cum stains littering his pants. With a scoff and a sigh he steps each leg into a second pair of boxers to make slightly more effort into covering up. Even packs a backup pair in case both pairs he’s currently wearing are soiled by the end of the day.
After a hectic first hour of scanning and distributing the stack of morning mail from the bin, he slips a stick of gum on his tongue and gnaws on the flavor with his mouth open when an unfamiliar silhouette teeters closer towards the edge of his desk from the entrance.
Clark doesn’t get to looking up until she’s clearing her throat, playing with a strand of her hair with a smile aimed at the ground.
“Hi, sorry if I’m interrupting your work. I’m actually starting today,” she explains, eyeing him up from head to toe. Clark rips his head up at the voice and clears his throat, sitting up straighter and pulls a polite hand out.
“Oh! Oh, yeah that’s right. You’re our new hire. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Clark.”
She takes his hand with a laugh. Clark wished he understood what was funny. He joins in on it anyway, anxiously chuckling while he doesn’t stop shaking her hand in his. Realizing it had been well over ten seconds of her soft palm held up in his own long, gigantic fingers, he slips his hand off of hers, lingering in the awkward air of the moment.
She nods and scans her gaze around, peaking at the state of Clark’s desk. The endless string of sticky notes, the protein shakes, the tie he’d already taken off his neck. “So am I in the right place, or—“
“Yup. Yeah, yeah you found where you should be. I’ve been tasked to uh, help you fill all this out. After that we can get you started on some basics,” he breathes out, pointing to the stack resting on the side of his desk, sticky note on top with her name on it. Clark finds himself trying a little desperately to keep himself more cool, more composed. She’s the kind of pretty that made him nervous, suddenly aware of his undone appearance, of every awkward move he makes. He stops chewing his gum with as much rigor, clenches his jaw and scratches the back of his neck.
“I started out in the position you’re in, it’s real easy to move up,” he mentions, gathering up the paperwork and attempting to straighten it out before a quarter of the pages fall from his grasp in a pile. Beat red, Clark doesn’t do anything but stare at the ground and sigh before sheepishly joining in on her laughs.
“You’re pretty organized, aren’t you?” she chuckles, bending over to pick up the few documents that landed on the floor. Clark’s jaw even drops when he catches the smallest glimpse of her hot pink colored thong poking up above from her dress pants.
“Yeah. Yeah I really am, you know. Organization is key,” he nods, tight lipped smile still on his face. He takes the pages she hands him over, watching her subtly arch her head to smell something in the air. Fuck. What the fuck? Did he even put on any cologne this morning after draining his dick for the hundredth time?
Before he could shoot himself in the head with more irrational insecurities his mind makes up she soothed his very visible worry with another laugh and a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Is it me? Do I reek like sweat or something—?”
“No, no. You don’t smell bad, you’re fine. I was just trying to figure out if you were chewing Spearmint or not,” she assures. “I like it. Promise. You do not reek of anything,” she snorted through another laugh. Clark beams, looking around everywhere but her face. Afraid his face could give his every fleeting thought away.
Thank god. “Uh, oh yeah. Yeah it’s Spearmint. You want a piece? I have a new pack,” he offers. To his surprise, she snatches up a piece out of his hand hardly before he gets to offer it to her. Blinks dumbly while she opens it up and tears the piece in half, stuffing one in her mouth and giving the other half back to him.
“Uh—“
She smiles at him, chewing the gum out of one side of her cheek. “I have this oral thing. A fixation I guess. Chewing or having something in my mouth really helps me.”
The thing about Clark is, he has manners. Has restraint. Thought he was a good boy that didn’t go on and chase any tail that came into his orbit. Especially not a new pretty co-worker. He doesn’t want to think about putting different parts of himself inside her mouth just to calm her down. Or the color of her thong. Or that wicked smile and addicting perfume to match. Something tries to draw him in closer, reason with his conscience like she’s teasing little signals, it’s not like you’re her boss or anything. if you flirt back no one would know a thing.
Clark stops his zoning out and nods his head to agree. “I get it. Having stuff in my… in my mouth cools me off too. Like—like stress.”
“You shouldn’t worry yourself that much. Seems like you’re wound up pretty tight.”
He feels like there’s this window into his thoughts standing clear as day right above his head, broadcasting every fleeting thought or mood. When he tries to look at her, stare at her back the same way she stares at him, he just wanted to run away before his own dick caught up with him.
Clark scratches his chin and sheepishly nods with his head down, agreeing with a gentle mumble, yeah you know, just normal stuff, kinda on edge. Not like he randomly cums in his pants or anything. He quickly finds a way to change subjects by directing his focus back to the work left in front of them and guides her to sit over at her new desk to fill out some new hire paperwork. She taps him on the shoulder and grins when she says his name to ask him questions. He dutifully answers everything he can, emails some higher ups to get her logins to some of their systems and trains her how they go through their mail and answer consumer’s inquiries over the phone.
She takes just about everything in a stride. Overwhelmed of course by certain things that have nuances and will take more time getting used to. Clark introduces her to more staff, waves to Lois, makes the new hire her own cup of coffee after showing her their break room. Jimmy tries to raise a brow, even wiggles both of them up and down at him from behind her back, but it only makes Clark kick him in the shin and gruffly threaten him under his breath as he’s passing by while she wasn’t looking.
Clark sends her off to her first break, telling her to meet him back at her desk for more training later. Watches absentmindedly as she picks up her purse, snatched up a lighter from one of the pockets and stuck a cigarette behind her ear, waving goodbye and strolling out to the elevator doors. Before the elevator doors close he could see her take the stick from her ear and put it between her lips, probably a habit she’s picked up from that oral thing, Clark figured. He wants to stop himself from picking apart her business but he’s too intrigued to stop, still lost in thought at his desk while he takes a break of his own.
After spitting his piece of gum out he chugs a few thick swigs of his protein shake, spaced out in blank thought. A corner of his mouth smiles when he feels the other half of that stick of gum she’d torn off and given back. His dick twitches but ultimately stayed soft, undetected in his pants. He’d shamefully started wondering how the hell his dick was so well behaved, so normal today of all days. Not that it was a bad thing. He just found it curious. Why was this the first time in days his dick wasn’t getting swallowed, rode, or came on by whatever invisible force that clearly had been having its fun tormenting him? And will it ever come back to fuck him again?
Once Jimmy finds Clark alone at his desk wiping fingerprints off his glasses, he swats his shoulder and bashed one of his knees to his swivel chair, causing him to start spinning.
“What the hey, dude—don’t—“
“This could be your shot. All’s I’m sayin,” he shrugs. Sees Clark stop his chair and shove his friend forward, only enough power to knock him off his feet a little bit. “Hey, hey! That’s all I’m saying, I said!” he laughs and defensively puts both his palms up to shield himself from any more of Clark’s wrath.
“You can’t say that stuff. Don’t. She’s new, okay! And… and she needs my help learning everything around here. She doesn’t need some big oaf getting in her business, abusing power, or being… being weird towards her,” he concludes.
“Hey, opportunities sometimes fall right out of the sky. This one just fell right into your lap. And you’re not a fat oaf dude. Pfft, you actually think being her co-worker is gonna affect anything?”
“Uh, yes it does in fact. It will literally affect everything. You think it’d be appropriate for me to treat her like that?”
Jimmy shrugs again, ruffles Clark’s curls and says he should think about reconsidering some of his rules and start breaking them in order to finally get something he wants.
When she’s back from her break her hair is damp, fresh perfume sprayed on her coat to get rid of some of the stench from her cigarette. She looks refreshed, albeit a little more flustered than she was before she left. Her boots squeak slightly on the floor from stepping out on the wet ground outside. He thinks about complimenting her boots, her coat, her hair, thinks about complimenting her everything. But his words fall short after his voice cracks from the very simple greeting of hey, welcome back.
“Hey, can I ask you for a favor after work? It’s totally fine if you say no or if you can’t. You don’t have to give me any reasons,” she assures.
Already eager to know what she’s going to be asking of him, his ears perk and his posture straightens up as he scoots his chair over to her desk.
“Yeah of course. What’s up?”
“It started raining pretty hard and the forecast says it won’t stop until tomorrow morning. I actually walked here to work, and if it’s not any trouble, would you be able to give me a lift back home?”
Clark swallows an upcoming lump in his throat, feeling his palms start to get clammy. The mere thought of the proximity was enticing. Having her next to him, in his car. Her trust in him helping her with something as intimate as having her get back home safely. He tries to answer casually, like he’s a nonchalant guy — as if the offer wasn’t any big deal, wasn’t making his heart start to beat a little faster.
What comes out though is a horribly rushed, clumsy, stuttered —
“Ohyeahofcourse, you don’t even have to worry about it!”
Jimmy’s teasing still echoes through the hallway of his brain. About opportunities. About how sometimes they seem to fall right out of the sky. How this one has fallen right into his lap.
“Thanks so much Clark, I appreciate it. You’ve been the sweetest guy. I’m really lucky to have you here to teach me everything,” she praised. Turning his cheeks pink in all of two seconds with a flat palm on his broad shoulder, squeezing gently and holding the warmest smile.
“We’re lucky to have you. You’ve been— you’ve been great,” he gulps, trying to bring the focus back to her. “We don’t have too much more to fill out, but um, I don’t wanna overwhelm you with any more new things today. Let’s wrap up this paperwork then we’ll hopefully get you on those phones to practice the last hour.”
“Great! I’m almost finished with those. And for the record I do promise where I live isn’t far, I don’t wanna be too much an inconvenience,” she laughs. Clark shook his head again, ready to protest the very idea that she was asking too much. In truth, she was so stupid pretty that if she asks him to say his ABC’s backwards he’d still give it his best shot. She almost cuts off his attempt to deny it, straightening up some of the last pages left to read over and sign.
“You are not any inconvenience. If you are, then please keep inconveniencing me,” he says, flashing a toothy smile at her. He prays to himself that it comes out right, and to his delight, she grins back, adorable face expressing back to him, well, then don’t mind if I do. “with anything you need, I’ll be here.”
Is he being too much?
“Thanks, Clark. I owe you.”
Oh? What should you owe me?
He shakes off any perverted thoughts and spares a glance at his watch.
“Are you hungry? It could be lunch time. Up to you. We don’t clock in and out, we just have timesheets, so breaks are pretty flexible.”
“Yeah, I could eat.”
Clark’s head screams well there’s a full meal right in front of you.
“Great.”
. . .
He sees her head off to the break room and start chatting with Lois, smiling at her welcoming disposition while she checks in on how her training is going. Clark knows he has the option to stay, to ogle while he ate at his desk, but he feels like he has too much steam to blow off before handling the rest of the day. With a long final exhale, he adjusts his glasses and snatched up his keys to head back home for his lunch hour.
Once he’s back at his apartment he immediately sheds his god awful shoes and his suffocating button down before he’s lying flat on his back in bed, staring up at the wall. Trying to manifest that magical touch and beckon it to come back. Beg for it even. Wonders to himself if there’s some hidden way he hasn’t figured out yet to trigger it, or if it’ll always remain spontaneous.
Clenching his jaw he angrily starts groping his crotch, trying to feel himself out. He opens one eye to peer down at his dick and see if he just thought about it hard enough he’ll bring it back to life, feel that beautiful all consuming weight drip on top of him again.
“C’mon. C’mon, please… You… you’ve fucked me every day and I took it all last night, now I want it, I need it. Right here, please?”
Clark strokes his cock while it sways back and forth against his belly, mind already feeding into an idiotic fantasy of his new hire bending over, showing him her pretty colored thong. Maybe she’d pull her panties up higher so they’re peaking out further above her waistline, or maybe she’d pull them over to the side….
He raises his hips off the bed to thrust into his fist at the thought, pants still strung down barely past his groin. Figures if he shows back up to work the rest of the day in different pants, it’s his business and his business only, and so be it.
“Oh god it was so good last time, wish you could touch me like that again…”
He knows it’s pathetic. Everything he’s doing, everything he’s saying. While he grips the tip and twists particularly tight, he shamefully whimpers out his new hire’s name while his dick starts to drip into pubes. Messy, sticky, but gosh he needed this. Clark deeply misses the warmth on top of him, the hot teasing, the bouncing, and the thrill of not knowing what will happen next—
“Oh my god….”
. . .
posting this cuz I’m so done looking at it already dear jesuslawd. if I should keep going somehow let me know I love coworkerXcoworker getting down and nasty. I like the idea of clark not knowing what’s going on and getting slobbered on by his work crush. fully no clue when/if the next part comes out oh my lawd. thanks soooo so much for all the love on the first little prelude:( im so obsessed with every reblog+comment
fem! reader, mdni. 1k words. cw: soft dom clark, reader's in a submissive mood, he's a big talker, lots of praise, pinned hands, general filth
Clark's deceptive. the filth of his mouth unlike the sweetness you see in his eyes. it can be misleading to hear such dirty words come from a face so pretty — you almost wouldn't expect it. and if you weren't on the receiving end, you'd never actually believe it to be true.
he's above you; on his knees between your spread thighs, the hefty weight of his dick in the expanse of his hand. his eyes remain locked on you below as he fluffs up his chubbed-up cock, gaze observing the visually pornographic, bound sight of you beneath him.
while one hand is occupied around his considerably endowed cock, the other is encompassing either of your wrists — each one held above your head. the weight of his hold pushes the backs of your hands into the mattress so firmly that you can't wriggle and writhe from his grip. not that you'd want to. you're exactly where you want to be.
there are shades within clark, some darker than others — parts of him far more wicked. like there's a switch within him, a button inside him he can turn on and off whenever it's of need. as if it's a way he can attune to you, coordinate himself to the ways you may need him. so the idea of roles, are futile, meaningless to him; he finds there's no need.
a real go with the flow kind of guy.
there are times you may want to lead, take over and use him like your personal fuck toy — though there are others, like tonight where you just want to be laid under his will, mind off, body accessible for him to take advantage of. dotingly, of course.
and he knows exactly how to do that, what to say in order to get you there. like he knows your mind, rather than just your body.
"tell me what you need," he hums above you, voice like a dulcet husk.
his blue eyes are heavy as they roam over you below, gaze almost sauntering over your wanting expression. and it's then your lips part and chests rises — each a direct response when you feel the tip of his cock nudge against your cunt. like it was a sort of provocation, a way to coax a reply from you.
and so he does it again, tapping his swollen, reddened head against the slick sheen of mess he had already made of your cunt. clark swirls it at your sensitive clit, motion slow and controlled.
"tell me, sweet girl," he repeats his last ask, tone a decibel lower than before.
you swallow hard, doing so like it hurt. the centre of your brows involuntarily curl inwards as you murmur rather pathetically. pitifully even.
"you."
"yeah?" he hums, word short but enthused.
it was rhetorical. he wasn't expecting a fleshed out, sensical response — not when he can so clearly see you struggling with the limited capacity in your brain. that 'you' was enough for him right now, he won't push it.
and so with the head of his dick that he winds around your clit, he lowers it, directing it to the ache he knew you had. he's deliberate and intentional as he taps at your entrance, prodding and provoking it like he couldn't quite help it. you grow antsy, cunt clamping on absence that you greet his thick tip with kisses, pussy seemingly with a mind of it's own.
your expression grows pained beneath him, face sort of scrunching. you were becoming increasingly more impatient, uncomfortable with the need that pulsed in your cunt. the sort of pleading look in your face is met with a mock-like nod, the motion of his head slow and controlled — like he was entertaining you.
"I know," he utters, amused frown splayed on his face.
he circles his head again, and again, and it's then after all that prior teasing that he finally feeds himself into you, cock easing in nice and slow.
"you can take it," he encourages, lip bitten. he swallows thickly and he shakes his head, the dual act like a desperate claw for his own control. "that's it. there we go," he adds airily, sinking more of himself into you; pushing in his entirely until his balls squish up against your pussy's lips.
you gasp and you instinctively turn aside, face almost buried in the uppers of your arms that are held above your head.
with his cock lodged in you comfortably, he lowers over you slightly and places the hand from his dick to the underside of your chin. he doesn't redirect it, he waits for you to do it on your own accord — for you to follow willingly.
"don't hide, I wanna see your face," he hums, voice a foots distance from you.
you do as asked of you and when you peer up at him above you, you're met with a soft boyish grin. one that was equal parts pleased and proud.
"there we go," he lowers, lips ghosting yours a moment — teasing you with a kiss he won't yet place. "I love how you listen."
it's in that exact moment, that he winds into you like it was a reward; cock reaching in and pulling a gasp from out your throat. it was like he wanted to taste it on his tongue, swallow the lewd noise you couldn't quite contain.
the hand he has cupped under your chin, slips off to the side of your face. he holds the weight of it, grip carefully controlled as if to keep it in place; keep you looking up at him.
"you're so beautiful when you take it."
his sporadic, occasional thrusts build, and it's soon that a system of grinds fall into place. each one furthering the spread of gratification in your cunt, every single wind making you struggle that much more for a full, satisfying breath.
the entirety of you is in his hands, at his utter mercy. and you wouldn't have it any other way.
a/n - this is a request from @bluemoongiri , I hope this was angsty enough because I'm so terrible at writing sad stories lmfao
synopsis - Oystein drags you along to a band practice, not paying you as much attention as you craved. You decide it’s be a better option to just piss him off, get on his nerves and under his skin so he could finally give you a little attention at home :3
warnings - female anatomy and nicknames, daddy k!nk (kill me yes i have it) you're his wife so he's extra sweet with you in the beginning (gets real mean at the end tho🤭)
The heavy wooden door slammed closed with a hefty and dull bang, followed by the sounds of the locks clicking into place. Your fatigued boyfriend wordlessly entered your shared home. His weighty boots thudded against the wooden floor as he walked in front of you to the kitchen, each step closely matching your rapid heartbeat.
The whole car ride home was silent, and it made your stomach churn with dread.
He swings the fridge open, the dull amber light casting a dim glow over his weary and irritated features. He wraps his fist around the neck of a beer bottle, shutting the door and popping the cap off by striking it on a nearby counter's edge, carelessly letting the bottle cap fall and clatter on the floor. He crosses in front of you, not giving you a single glance, as he takes a seat in the living room on the couch.
His silence was unsettling, and your mind was spinning at a million miles an hour as you went into your bedroom to change into casual nightwear, swiftly rejoining the disgruntled man who was gulping down his beer. His lack of words only made you more fearful. Oystein had something on the television he was barely paying attention to, finally tilting his head to look at you when you took a seat.
"What the fuck was that?"
That was all Oystein said, seething through gritted teeth, failing poorly at trying to keep his composure. His thin dark brows knit together, his face hardened into a scowl.
Hours before, he had dragged you along to his band's practice with him. He sat you down in the corner, even checked on you now and again. But once he finally strapped his guitar around himself, he didn't even get the chance to play before you started asking for things like snacks, a drink, and whining nonstop about wanting to go home. It all was intentional, of course; you just wanted his attention. But he wasn't giving it to you; instead, he laughed and scribbled notes in his notebook when he played a good-sounding chord progression. You sat in a chair in the corner of the room, huffing, whining, trying absolutely anything and everything you could think of to get under his skin. And you succeeded.
The impatient man holds his hand in front of your face, and snapping deafeningly, your skin burns with hot shame, and you shuffle uncomfortably in your spot on the couch cushion. Parting your lips to speak, your mouth felt dry. What could you even tell him? 'Oh, I'm sorry, Oystein, I just wanted you to pay attention to me!'
Snapping your mouth shut, you were unable to find the words and properly explain yourself, so you settled on quietness, a more direct answer. The man raked his fingers through his long sable-black locks, shifting in his spot to turn his body towards you slightly as he shook his head with an exasperated sigh. Wiry hairs above his lip pulled downward in a Fu Manchu mustache, twitching as his irritation simmered and faded away slightly.
"Babydoll..." Oystein hummed, deeply inhaling and determining he'd take a gentler approach with you after realizing this wasn't a surface-level issue. There was more to your bratty behavior and acting out of line. He's learned not to let his negative reactions get too out of hand; being with you made him a more considerate and thoughtful gentleman. Most of the time, anyway.
His hand reaches out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear in a wordless act of benevolence. "You acted like a brat." He states bluntly with a simple raise of his once furrowed brow, finally crumbling internally and tugging you into his lap, his slender arms wrapping around you securely. He pulls up into his lap, his chest pressed flush with your back. He held you, rocking you side to side until you were properly able to articulate your words.
"You know you've gotta use your words, baby, 'm not a mind-reader." Oystein pointed out, his larger hand engulfing yours once he interlaces his fingers with yours. Finally breaking down, your excuse tumbled from your quivering lips... that all you wanted was attention. His attention. You needed him to take care of you, feeling isolated by how often he was out drinking with his bandmates or at practice. You told him you felt neglected.
Oystein was mute for a few moments as he listened attentively, gnawing the skin on the inside of his cheek as he considered his response. His fingers trailed mindless shapes up your thigh, only now comprehending where you were coming from. He clicked his tongue, like he was a father scolding his teenage daughter for something simple like sneaking out, shaking his head at you with absolute disapproval.
"You just wanted my attention, baby? That's it? Jus' wanted me to drop everything and tend to you?" Despite how cruel his words are, he is beaming down at you as if he had just struck gold.
"What a needy girl I have..."
You let out a beaten scoff, sulking and crossing your arms over your chest as he mocked you. This short lecture and teasing were definitely not the reaction you needed from him at the moment. You wanted him to swaddle you up in his arms and cater to your every whim, pamper you, and listen to what was truly upsetting you this week. You worked up a lot of confidence to spill your guts to him about what truly ailed you.
"Uh-uh, sweet thing, you gotta realize you did something wrong here. I told you about talking to me when you are upset." His voice was velvety, a trace of something more sinister laced into it.
“I guess that's my fault for not teaching you better, but I know we've had this discussion before, princess."
Both of his hands were on either of your thighs, squeezing and massaging them affectionately. His words had an icy edge to them as he threatened you, scolding yourself mentally as you remember previous sessions that had left you practically bedridden.
"'m sorry I can't be home all of the time, sweetness..." But his voice is surprisingly tender and sympathetic, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on the inside of your thighs.
“I know you work hard too, cleaning and cooking and taking care of me when I get home from performing..."
You can feel his searing irritation slowly seep away, despite the body heat that radiates from him. He rested his chin on your shoulder.
"Y'so good to me... so grateful for my precious girl." He murmured with a blaketing tranquilly, one hand squeezing under your thigh muscle lovingly, whilst the other cupped the warmth of your clothed pussy. His thumb found the swollen nub peaking from under the thin fabric, rubbing agonizingly slow circles against it.
Closing the gap between your faces, you tilted your head to the side so it rested against a blanket of his soft, dark hair. His fingers pull the ruined cotton aside, his digits swiping up and down your messy folds. He was thoroughly inspecting your wetness, making a show out of pulling his hand away to observe the strings of your arousal coat his fingertips.
"I'm so lucky to have such a perfect doll, perfect wife..." He cooes, seeing your breath hitch in your throat when his fingertip pushes inside of you in a taunting manner. All you could do was give him a sad nod, sniveling pathetically under his tender ministrations. He eventually succumbs to your pitiful pleas and deprived noises, sinking his finger knuckle deep into your poor aching pussy, humming when he feels your velvet soft walls suck in his digit further into your heat.
"This is the attention my girl wanted, hmm? Just needed daddy's fingers?" He drags his fingers out as slowly as possible, his voice having an addicting sugary drawl, the languid push and pull making you grip the couch cushion and groan. His teasing was making your head spin, there was no way you could keep up with him at this rate.
"This isn't fair..." You whined like an insolent child, with a tone of dramatic anguish. His finger wiggled, pulling out until the tip of it barely breached that first ring of tight muscle.
“Uh-uh.” Oystein corrected disapprovingly at your pathetic whine, pulling his finger out and slapping your drenched cunt, the sting making you yelp in shock.
Oystein's fingers still inside of you, a displeased hum rumbling in his throat, and he sits up a little straighter. The sensation of his thick fingers going still in your fluttering cunt caused your head to slump forward, another unhappy and bratty noise falling from your lips.
“I guess this means you're just too spoiled, sweetness. I've been making us money, trying to afford the stuff we like around the house. You made me end practice early, and we are working on the new album. What has gotten into you? Have I spoiled you just so rotten, my girl?"
a/n: this is me dipping my toes into the water of superman fics so please be kind because I still need to rewatch the movie.
warnings - nsfw under the cut, not really proof read, maybe too specific but wtv 😛
╰────-·-ˋˏ-༻𖤓༺-ˎˊ·-────╯
sfw -
of course his powers come in handy, his excessive stamina means that all of the house chores are done in the blink of an eye. dishes done, clothes washed dried and folded, floors swept and mopped, and even your favorite scented candle (which you bought once, so clark just kept buying once it ran out) lit and wafting around the clean house invitingly. he never runs out of energy when it comes to taking care of you, and is always willing to go on late night trips to grab ice cream or any snack your craving that night.
he is so interested in every hyperfixation of yours, he's an alien so learning new information about how human brains work is always intriguing. he takes interest in the games you play, shows you watch and even the music you play when he drives you around.
if you’re working, he finds the time to prep you a lunch and he always gets so creative. sandwiches and fruits are always cut in fun shapes, and there’s always a sweet note with a little heart added
i feel like clark is really self conscious about himself, he always has wanted to be seen as a human but he always felt so much different, so tall and muscly. he feels like he stands out, and he has been around long enough to see how cruel humans are. but the reason he saves humanity is never lost on him after saving a school bus full of children and seeing their parents tearfully thank him.
nsfw -
this poor man is especially self conscious in bed. when you first started dating, it took nearly a whole year before he even revealed what his lower genitalia looked like. sure you’d been intimate, but he always focused on you and never let you take care of him. the day you finally convince him, telling him you need him that bad, he undoes his belt buckle to reveal himself, his cheeks flushed and the tips of his ears were a light pink. once his cock bounced out of his boxers, your mouth was agape. finally being able to see how big he was finally confirmed every theory you’ve had about his thickness. his pubic hair is very neatly trimmed, and the whole length of him matches his warm ivory skin, the blunt mushroom tip rosy like his plump lips. there was nothing alien about him except for his size. he had a cool toned vein bulging underneath the length of his dick, pulsing with each pump of blood that rushed to his tip. and the poor baby was leaking so bad in front of you, so embarrassed and flushed skin all over because he was scared you would shun him and never wanna see him again.
clarkie is so polite during his love making sessions (he will never ask to ‘fuck’, he always has some term for it that is more tender) kisses you all over your face, down the length of your spine, all over the tops of your shoulders, neck, stomach. wherever this man can reach, he’d kiss and squeeze sweetly. and i mean this man takes forever to finally get to the main event, if you will. he has to make sure your ready for his alien cock!! he’s always sweet and stretches you with three fingers, being greedy enough to coax at least one orgasm out of you. And he never gets tired, this is Superman, he’s got excessive stamina.
he is such a pervert in secret though, he can hear absolutely everything, you’d never be allowed to take care of yourself. even while he’s at work down in the heart of Metropolis, if he hears that sweet little sound of your breath hitching in your throat and your heartbeat quickening, he’s out of the door on his lunch break and at home again in the blink of an eye. his hair all fluffy and glasses a skewed, he’d give some piss poor excuse of “hey, sweetheart, i was sent home early for lunch- i wish you would text me when you do this, you know i’d be more than happy to help you out with this, poor thing…”
his fav positions are probably the mating press. your ankles by your ears as you lay on your back, pistoning his heavy cock in and out of you while his hands squeezed and massaged the back of your thighs, firmly keeping you splayed open for him like an unfurled flower.
when he first gets you to squirt, he is instantly pulling out and cupping your face with his large palms, and poor baby thinks he has just broken you. “‘m sorry- did i go to hard? oh my gosh- i’m so sorry baby, you look like you’re in so much pain,” poor baby just convinces himself that he hurt you, when in fact it was the absolute opposite. the drifted away look of bliss on your face and your body going limp was a tale-tell sign that Clark convinced himself he’d broken his human partner.
he’d be such a sweet dirty talker, such filth coming from his puffy pink lips despite the fact he doesn’t like to curse. he’d talk you through it, and have the best aftercare. running a hot bath, returning to your side to help you up and getting you settled into the hot water to soothe your aching muscles. he would leave momentarily to let you relax, and by the time you finished with your bath he’d set your bedroom up for you. your favorite show on the television, (if you smoke lol) your vape/dispo on the charger and waiting for you, the bed is made and everything is spotless, like he hadn’t been fucking you into the mattress twenty minutes prior.
another a/n : yall are too fucking sweet for getting this to 130 likes, this is the fastest post that people have liked and it makes me feel like i might actually be a ‘little’ good as a writer <33
Clark masturbates thinking about a sweet and shy coworker. Clark really has perverse thoughts about her and doesn’t want to, but he can’t help masturbating to pornography as soon as he gets home from work 😛 (I don’t apologize for making Clark Kent a “gooner”)(Pretending I don’t feel guilty for asking this 😭🥀)
perv gooner clark is so peak
clark can’t help himself on days where she wears more fitted blouses that show off even an ounce of cleavage, feeling his pants get tight whenever he could catch a glimpse of them pressed together. or jeans that fit around to hug her perfect ass. it’s gotten to a point where the fantasies can interfere with his work, finding his mouth nearly drooling after picturing her with her legs spread and her panties dangling off one leg while he got to shove his face in her pussy and roughly eat her out.
he couldn’t take it anymore after working with her for over a month now, setting up a whole gooning station for when he gets home from work. has his laptop open with pornhub tabs with girls that look like her and a fleshlight ready and waiting for him. his pocket pussy a replica of what he thinks she’d look like if he ever got lucky enough to take her panties off.
he’ll come home on his lunch break, not even eating, just going straight to his porn site search bar and typing in whatever raw and nasty scenario he wanted to pretend to act out with her in his head, thrusting his cock in the smooth pocket pussy. slow and deep with his tip kissing the very edge of the toy, dick so long and fat it barely fits until he broke it open after a few rounds.
the fact that she was so shy he’d barely heard her say more than a sentence a day, only talking if it were work related and gets bashful whenever she was asked any personal questions. clark had never felt more nosy in his life when another coworker tried to tease her about having no boyfriend or social life, and clark had to loosen his tie and run to the bathroom, locking himself behind a stall to fuck and cum in his fist, getting stray dribbles of cum to splatter on the walls. clark is so embarrassed of the mess he wipes it down then checks his appearance in the bathroom mirror after he’s done to make sure his face didn’t scream I just came in my hand because I learned my coworker doesn’t have a boyfriend.
the next day off he had he was cumming in his pocket pussy and fucking it harder and faster and sloppier than he ever had, getting his milky nut slathered in the toy and pretending he’s giving his crush creampie after creampie after creampie
tee hee i’m starting to write a lil drabble with clark so yall get ready :3 i am gonna try to finish those two requests ive got, i just want them to be absolutely perf before i send them out to you lovely readers <3
