okay i know the point of contrasting glinda walking down the aisle to elphaba walking through the cages of Animals was probably a "lies in the light truth in the darkness" thing but there's a read of that choice that implies that, deep down, glinda finds heterosexual marriage as horrifying as elphaba finds Animals in cages, and that's just very, very funny
It was supposed to be an innocent date night, but with Lois and Clark, nothing ever stays innocent for long. Between secret glances and playful games, you’re reminded that they always find new ways to keep things interesting.
word count : 2k
tags : 18+ MDNI , fem!reader , threesome , sex toys , remote control vibrator , public sex , car sex , lots of dirty talk , a bit of slow burn tbh , sub!reader , Lois is very in charge ♡ (if i missed anything lmk ty ty)
A/N : hiiii its my first fic (technically second since i started one and it got way too long to be my first) i hope you all enjoy, this is my absolute favorite pairing to write and i hope all enjoy ! ♡
It was one of those date nights that always started innocent and never stayed that way for long. You'd taken your time getting ready, slipping into the short red dress that hugged your curves like it was made for you.
The deep V-neckline gave the perfect tease, just enough for Clark to lose his train of thought whenever he looked at you.
Around your neck hung the small gold necklace Lois had given you an “S” pendant glinting softly against your skin. A secret only the three of you shared. (Clark had practically forgotten how to breathe when he first saw it.)
You dabbed on perfume, combed your hair, and checked yourself in the mirror one last time. You were almost ready to go when your phone buzzed.
Lois ❤️: Check your third drawer where we keep our things. I left something for you, honey.
Your pulse spiked instantly. That drawer. You knew it far too well. Stuffed with all sorts of things Lois had “introduced” you to, and Clark pretended to be scandalized by before inevitably giving in.
You opened it slowly, already smiling, half nervous, half thrilled. Whatever was inside, it was bound to make you blush. And Lois, of course, would love every second of it.
Inside was a small box with your name written across the top in Lois’s looping cursive. You laughed softly, picking it up. Nestled beneath a short note on cream paper
“For our baby — C + L.”
Inside was a pair of bright blue panties. If you could even call them that. The fabric was thin, delicate, tied at the sides with satin ribbon that matched Clark’s suit a little too perfectly. You picked them up and your breath caught when you noticed the small, sleek device attached inside. A vibrator, both discreet and deadly, positioned to press right against your pussy.
You glanced back at the box, already knowing what you wouldn’t find: the remote. That was long gone. And if you had to guess, it was probably already sitting in Lois’s purse next to Clark’s strong, unsuspecting hand, waiting for the perfect moment.
You slipped the blue panties on, adjusting the ribbons until they rested just right against your hips. The hidden weight of the tiny device made your skin tingle, nestling snugly between your legs.
You could already imagine Lois’s smirk when she saw you and Clark’s expression when he finally put the pieces together. The satin rubbed softly with every step as you finished getting ready, a constant reminder of the game about to unfold.
By the time you arrived at the restaurant, the city was glowing under a canopy of stars and neon lights. Lois was already there, legs crossed, lipstick perfect, the very picture of calm control. Clark sat beside her, his broad shoulders filling out his suit jacket, his hand resting on the table until Lois brushed her fingers over it a silent cue that made his eyes flick up to meet yours as you approached.
When your eyes met hers, she gave you that smile. The one that promised trouble.
You took your seat across from them, the cool leather of the booth pressing against your thighs, the vibrator shifting slightly and sending a spark of anticipation through your core.
Trying to focus on the menu, on the soft jazz music drifting through the air, on anything but the memory of that drawer, you scanned the options. Then Lois leaned in, her perfume warm and familiar, wrapping around you like an embrace.
“You look beautiful, honey,” she murmured, just loud enough for you to hear. “Clark thinks so too.”
He cleared his throat, cheeks pink, his gaze dropping to the pendant at your neck before trailing down the V of your dress. “You always do.” His voice was rougher than usual, laced with that quiet hunger he tried so hard to rein in.
The air between the three of you shifted—not yet crossing the line, but full of quiet understanding.
Every look, every brush of fingers beneath the table carried its own voltage. Dinner became a dance of glances, laughter, and promises not yet spoken.
Clark's foot nudged yours accidentally (or not) under the table, his warmth seeping through your heel.
Lois's eyes sparkled as she steered the conversation to work stories, her hand occasionally grazing Clark's thigh, drawing his attention while she watched you squirm ever so slightly in your seat.
The waiter brought appetizers crisp calamari and chilled wine, you sipped slowly, the cool liquid doing little to temper the heat building low in your belly. Lois's fingers toyed with her glass, her pinky ring catching the light, and you wondered if the remote was hidden in her palm, ready to strike.
And that’s when she pressed it, keeping it on the lowest setting so as not to scare you, just to keep you wanting more.
The sudden hum vibrated against your clit, a gentle pulse that made your thighs clench instinctively. You grabbed Lois’s hand across the table, squeezing it gently as you gasped, closing your eyes for a moment, taking in the bliss before reality came crashing in on you.
You weren't in the comfort of your own home, on Clark’s bed or Lois’s. You were as exposed as could be, surrounded by the murmur of other diners, the clink of silverware, the city's hum filtering through the windows. Keeping a secret about what was happening only between the three of you—i guess you were Superman in this moment, holding it together under pressure.
The silent hum continued between your legs, it wasn't too much to distract you completely from the conversation and your surroundings. Clark watched you the entire time with a soft smile on his face; you looked beautiful blissed out like this, your lips parted slightly, a faint sheen of sweat on your collarbone.
He leaned back in the booth, his arm draped casually over the seat behind Lois, but his eyes were fixed on the way your chest rose and fell a little quicker.
Lois squeezed your hand back, her thumb stroking your knuckles in slow circles, mirroring the rhythm between your thighs. “Everything okay, honey?” she asked innocently, though her gaze dipped to your lap for a split second.
You nodded, forcing a smile as the vibration coaxed a trickle of wetness to soak into the thin fabric. “Just... perfect,” you whispered, your voice breathy. Clark's smile widened, his free hand disappearing under the table—probably to adjust himself, the bulge in his pants straining against the zipper as he imagined what you were feeling.
The main course arrived—steak for Clark, pasta for Lois, salmon for you—and you picked at it, each forkful a challenge to stay composed. The toy buzzed steadily, building a slow burn that made your pussy throb, your nipples hardening against the silk of your bra. Lois chatted about a recent story, her words flowing effortlessly, but every so often, she'd glance at you, her expression a mix of pride and mischief.
Clark joined in, his deep voice rumbling as he described a lead on LexCorp, but his knee pressed firmer against yours now, a deliberate anchor. Under the table, his fingers brushed Lois's thigh, and she bit her lip, passing the remote subtly to him with a nod. His eyes locked on yours as he took it, thumb hovering over the button.
Dessert was torture—a shared tiramisu that Lois fed you a bite of, her fork lingering on your lips while the vibration ticked up just a notch, making you stifle a moan into the creamy sweetness. Clark's gaze darkened, his cock visibly twitching in his lap as he watched your reactions, the secret weaving tighter around you all.
Finally, the bill came, and Lois slid the remote back into her purse with a wink. “Time to head out,” she said, her voice casual, but the promise in her eyes was anything but.
The three of you stepped into the cool night air, the city's pulse matching the one thrumming through your body. Clark's hand settled at the small of your back, guiding you to the car parked a block away—a sleek black sedan that screamed understated luxury. Lois walked ahead, her hips swaying in her fitted black dress, keys jingling as she unlocked it.
You slid into the back seat first, the leather cool against your flushed skin, the movement shifting the toy deeper against your slick folds.
A soft whimper escaped before you could catch it. Lois climbed in beside you, her thigh pressing immediately against yours, while Clark took the driver's seat, adjusting the rearview mirror to catch your eye.
The engine purred to life, and as Clark pulled away from the curb, the city lights blurring into streaks, Lois's hand found your knee. “You did so well back there,” she murmured, her fingers tracing upward, slipping under the hem of your dress. The vibration was still going, low and insistent, making your pussy clench around nothing, aching for more.
Clark's eyes flicked to the mirror again, his grip tightening on the wheel. “Couldn't take my eyes off you,” he admitted, voice gravelly. The remote was in his hand now, clipped to the visor where he could reach it without looking. He pressed a button, and the hum intensified, pulsing in waves that made your hips buck involuntarily.
“Oh god,” you gasped, head falling back against the seat as Lois's hand cupped your mound over the panties, feeling the buzz through the fabric. Her fingers tugged at the satin ribbons, loosening one side just enough to expose the toy, her thumb circling your clit alongside it.
“That's it, honey,” Lois breathed, leaning in to nip at your earlobe. “Let go now. No one's watching but us.” Her other hand slid up to your breast, pinching your nipple through the dress, rolling it until you arched into her touch.
In the front, Clark groaned, his cock hard and pressing against his slacks as he navigated the streets. “Fuck, you two... keep it up and I won't make it home.” He amped the vibration higher, the toy thrumming relentlessly against your g-spot now, slick sounds filling the car as your arousal dripped down your thighs.
You grabbed Lois's wrist, not to stop her but to urge her on, your free hand reaching forward to graze Clark's shoulder. “Clark... please,” you begged, the words tumbling out as the pleasure coiled tight in your belly.
He glanced back briefly, eyes burning. “Touch yourself for me. Show us how wet you are.”
Lois helped, pulling the panties aside fully, the toy buzzing exposed against your swollen pussy. Your fingers dove in, circling your clit while she fucked you shallowly with two fingers, curling them just right. The car swerved slightly as Clark hit a red light, his hand abandoning the wheel for a moment to palm his cock through his pants, stroking himself to the sight in the mirror.
The light turned green, and he accelerated, the motion jolting the toy deeper, pushing you closer to the edge. Lois captured your mouth in a fierce kiss, tongues tangling as she swallowed your moans. “Cum for us, baby,” she whispered against your lips. “Right here, in the back seat like the good slut you are.”
The orgasm crashed over you, your pussy spasming around Lois's fingers, walls fluttering as waves of heat pulsed through you. You cried out, nails digging into her arm, body shaking as cum soaked her hand and the seat beneath you.
Clark growled from the front, his strokes quickening on his bulge. “That's my Superman... so fucking gorgeous when you cum.” He eased off the remote, letting the aftershocks hum softly, drawing out your whimpers.
Lois licked her fingers clean, savoring your taste with a hum of approval, then tucked the toy back into place, retying the ribbons with a possessive tug. “Home's just a few minutes away,” she said, settling back with a satisfied smile, her hand resting warmly on your thigh.
It was supposed to be an innocent date night, but with Lois and Clark, nothing ever stays innocent for long. Between secret glances and playful games, you’re reminded that they always find new ways to keep things interesting.
word count : 2k
tags : 18+ MDNI , fem!reader , threesome , sex toys , remote control vibrator , public sex , car sex , lots of dirty talk , a bit of slow burn tbh , sub!reader , Lois is very in charge ♡ (if i missed anything lmk ty ty)
A/N : hiiii its my first fic (technically second since i started one and it got way too long to be my first) i hope you all enjoy, this is my absolute favorite pairing to write and i hope all enjoy ! ♡
It was one of those date nights that always started innocent and never stayed that way for long. You'd taken your time getting ready, slipping into the short red dress that hugged your curves like it was made for you.
The deep V-neckline gave the perfect tease, just enough for Clark to lose his train of thought whenever he looked at you.
Around your neck hung the small gold necklace Lois had given you an “S” pendant glinting softly against your skin. A secret only the three of you shared. (Clark had practically forgotten how to breathe when he first saw it.)
You dabbed on perfume, combed your hair, and checked yourself in the mirror one last time. You were almost ready to go when your phone buzzed.
Lois ❤️: Check your third drawer where we keep our things. I left something for you, honey.
Your pulse spiked instantly. That drawer. You knew it far too well. Stuffed with all sorts of things Lois had “introduced” you to, and Clark pretended to be scandalized by before inevitably giving in.
You opened it slowly, already smiling, half nervous, half thrilled. Whatever was inside, it was bound to make you blush. And Lois, of course, would love every second of it.
Inside was a small box with your name written across the top in Lois’s looping cursive. You laughed softly, picking it up. Nestled beneath a short note on cream paper
“For our baby — C + L.”
Inside was a pair of bright blue panties. If you could even call them that. The fabric was thin, delicate, tied at the sides with satin ribbon that matched Clark’s suit a little too perfectly. You picked them up and your breath caught when you noticed the small, sleek device attached inside. A vibrator, both discreet and deadly, positioned to press right against your pussy.
You glanced back at the box, already knowing what you wouldn’t find: the remote. That was long gone. And if you had to guess, it was probably already sitting in Lois’s purse next to Clark’s strong, unsuspecting hand, waiting for the perfect moment.
You slipped the blue panties on, adjusting the ribbons until they rested just right against your hips. The hidden weight of the tiny device made your skin tingle, nestling snugly between your legs.
You could already imagine Lois’s smirk when she saw you and Clark’s expression when he finally put the pieces together. The satin rubbed softly with every step as you finished getting ready, a constant reminder of the game about to unfold.
By the time you arrived at the restaurant, the city was glowing under a canopy of stars and neon lights. Lois was already there, legs crossed, lipstick perfect, the very picture of calm control. Clark sat beside her, his broad shoulders filling out his suit jacket, his hand resting on the table until Lois brushed her fingers over it a silent cue that made his eyes flick up to meet yours as you approached.
When your eyes met hers, she gave you that smile. The one that promised trouble.
You took your seat across from them, the cool leather of the booth pressing against your thighs, the vibrator shifting slightly and sending a spark of anticipation through your core.
Trying to focus on the menu, on the soft jazz music drifting through the air, on anything but the memory of that drawer, you scanned the options. Then Lois leaned in, her perfume warm and familiar, wrapping around you like an embrace.
“You look beautiful, honey,” she murmured, just loud enough for you to hear. “Clark thinks so too.”
He cleared his throat, cheeks pink, his gaze dropping to the pendant at your neck before trailing down the V of your dress. “You always do.” His voice was rougher than usual, laced with that quiet hunger he tried so hard to rein in.
The air between the three of you shifted—not yet crossing the line, but full of quiet understanding.
Every look, every brush of fingers beneath the table carried its own voltage. Dinner became a dance of glances, laughter, and promises not yet spoken.
Clark's foot nudged yours accidentally (or not) under the table, his warmth seeping through your heel.
Lois's eyes sparkled as she steered the conversation to work stories, her hand occasionally grazing Clark's thigh, drawing his attention while she watched you squirm ever so slightly in your seat.
The waiter brought appetizers crisp calamari and chilled wine, you sipped slowly, the cool liquid doing little to temper the heat building low in your belly. Lois's fingers toyed with her glass, her pinky ring catching the light, and you wondered if the remote was hidden in her palm, ready to strike.
And that’s when she pressed it, keeping it on the lowest setting so as not to scare you, just to keep you wanting more.
The sudden hum vibrated against your clit, a gentle pulse that made your thighs clench instinctively. You grabbed Lois’s hand across the table, squeezing it gently as you gasped, closing your eyes for a moment, taking in the bliss before reality came crashing in on you.
You weren't in the comfort of your own home, on Clark’s bed or Lois’s. You were as exposed as could be, surrounded by the murmur of other diners, the clink of silverware, the city's hum filtering through the windows. Keeping a secret about what was happening only between the three of you—i guess you were Superman in this moment, holding it together under pressure.
The silent hum continued between your legs, it wasn't too much to distract you completely from the conversation and your surroundings. Clark watched you the entire time with a soft smile on his face; you looked beautiful blissed out like this, your lips parted slightly, a faint sheen of sweat on your collarbone.
He leaned back in the booth, his arm draped casually over the seat behind Lois, but his eyes were fixed on the way your chest rose and fell a little quicker.
Lois squeezed your hand back, her thumb stroking your knuckles in slow circles, mirroring the rhythm between your thighs. “Everything okay, honey?” she asked innocently, though her gaze dipped to your lap for a split second.
You nodded, forcing a smile as the vibration coaxed a trickle of wetness to soak into the thin fabric. “Just... perfect,” you whispered, your voice breathy. Clark's smile widened, his free hand disappearing under the table—probably to adjust himself, the bulge in his pants straining against the zipper as he imagined what you were feeling.
The main course arrived—steak for Clark, pasta for Lois, salmon for you—and you picked at it, each forkful a challenge to stay composed. The toy buzzed steadily, building a slow burn that made your pussy throb, your nipples hardening against the silk of your bra. Lois chatted about a recent story, her words flowing effortlessly, but every so often, she'd glance at you, her expression a mix of pride and mischief.
Clark joined in, his deep voice rumbling as he described a lead on LexCorp, but his knee pressed firmer against yours now, a deliberate anchor. Under the table, his fingers brushed Lois's thigh, and she bit her lip, passing the remote subtly to him with a nod. His eyes locked on yours as he took it, thumb hovering over the button.
Dessert was torture—a shared tiramisu that Lois fed you a bite of, her fork lingering on your lips while the vibration ticked up just a notch, making you stifle a moan into the creamy sweetness. Clark's gaze darkened, his cock visibly twitching in his lap as he watched your reactions, the secret weaving tighter around you all.
Finally, the bill came, and Lois slid the remote back into her purse with a wink. “Time to head out,” she said, her voice casual, but the promise in her eyes was anything but.
The three of you stepped into the cool night air, the city's pulse matching the one thrumming through your body. Clark's hand settled at the small of your back, guiding you to the car parked a block away—a sleek black sedan that screamed understated luxury. Lois walked ahead, her hips swaying in her fitted black dress, keys jingling as she unlocked it.
You slid into the back seat first, the leather cool against your flushed skin, the movement shifting the toy deeper against your slick folds.
A soft whimper escaped before you could catch it. Lois climbed in beside you, her thigh pressing immediately against yours, while Clark took the driver's seat, adjusting the rearview mirror to catch your eye.
The engine purred to life, and as Clark pulled away from the curb, the city lights blurring into streaks, Lois's hand found your knee. “You did so well back there,” she murmured, her fingers tracing upward, slipping under the hem of your dress. The vibration was still going, low and insistent, making your pussy clench around nothing, aching for more.
Clark's eyes flicked to the mirror again, his grip tightening on the wheel. “Couldn't take my eyes off you,” he admitted, voice gravelly. The remote was in his hand now, clipped to the visor where he could reach it without looking. He pressed a button, and the hum intensified, pulsing in waves that made your hips buck involuntarily.
“Oh god,” you gasped, head falling back against the seat as Lois's hand cupped your mound over the panties, feeling the buzz through the fabric. Her fingers tugged at the satin ribbons, loosening one side just enough to expose the toy, her thumb circling your clit alongside it.
“That's it, honey,” Lois breathed, leaning in to nip at your earlobe. “Let go now. No one's watching but us.” Her other hand slid up to your breast, pinching your nipple through the dress, rolling it until you arched into her touch.
In the front, Clark groaned, his cock hard and pressing against his slacks as he navigated the streets. “Fuck, you two... keep it up and I won't make it home.” He amped the vibration higher, the toy thrumming relentlessly against your g-spot now, slick sounds filling the car as your arousal dripped down your thighs.
You grabbed Lois's wrist, not to stop her but to urge her on, your free hand reaching forward to graze Clark's shoulder. “Clark... please,” you begged, the words tumbling out as the pleasure coiled tight in your belly.
He glanced back briefly, eyes burning. “Touch yourself for me. Show us how wet you are.”
Lois helped, pulling the panties aside fully, the toy buzzing exposed against your swollen pussy. Your fingers dove in, circling your clit while she fucked you shallowly with two fingers, curling them just right. The car swerved slightly as Clark hit a red light, his hand abandoning the wheel for a moment to palm his cock through his pants, stroking himself to the sight in the mirror.
The light turned green, and he accelerated, the motion jolting the toy deeper, pushing you closer to the edge. Lois captured your mouth in a fierce kiss, tongues tangling as she swallowed your moans. “Cum for us, baby,” she whispered against your lips. “Right here, in the back seat like the good slut you are.”
The orgasm crashed over you, your pussy spasming around Lois's fingers, walls fluttering as waves of heat pulsed through you. You cried out, nails digging into her arm, body shaking as cum soaked her hand and the seat beneath you.
Clark growled from the front, his strokes quickening on his bulge. “That's my Superman... so fucking gorgeous when you cum.” He eased off the remote, letting the aftershocks hum softly, drawing out your whimpers.
Lois licked her fingers clean, savoring your taste with a hum of approval, then tucked the toy back into place, retying the ribbons with a possessive tug. “Home's just a few minutes away,” she said, settling back with a satisfied smile, her hand resting warmly on your thigh.
Tags: NSFW (18+), unprotected p in v, creampie, dirty talk
Word Count: 900
Summary: Clark comes home late still dressed in his Superman suit.
Things with Clark have always been easy. The way he speaks to you, the way he touches you, the way he holds your heart so tenderly…It is something that you’ve always dreamed of having, and now that you’ve got it, it’s almost hard to believe. How did you get so lucky? What stars had to align in order to bring him to you?
Loving him was never something you had to force yourself to do – all of him is desirable, all of him is a dream. And, of course, dating Superman is something that women all over Metropolis want to do. Clark is big and kind, yes, but he’s also strong. HIs muscles ripple when he moves. His curls fall into his face. His hands hold the world, yet you are the one he comes home to.
He’s coming home now, in fact – landing out in the front yard where no one else can see, and he’s on the front step in the blink of an eye. Literally. You open the door for him and he steps inside, still clad in his singed Superman suit. You smile up at him, core warming when you see the look on his face. He missed you.
“Superman,” you say, smiling softly, “I’ve been waiting all night.”
Clark steps up to you, immediately wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. You rest your hands atop the ‘S’ on his chest and look up at him with lustful eyes.
“I’m sorry I’m late–”
“I was starting to think you wouldn’t come, Superman,” you say. There is a moment of silence, a moment of realization from Clark, and immediately you feel his cock begin to twitch in his suit. You smirk.
“You know I’ll always come to get you,” he says. You feel yourself being lifted off the ground as Clark carries you towards the bedroom. You hold onto him as you look into his eyes.
“I know,” you say. “It’s one of the many things I love about you.”
“I don’t do this for every woman who asks for it, you know,” Clark tells you, nudging the bedroom door open with his foot and carrying you inside. You bite your lip.
“Only the special ones?” you ask as he sets you down on the bed. He’s covered in grime and dirt and ash, but you don’t care. You know he’ll change the sheets for you. They’ll need it after whatever the two of you are about to do.
Clark shakes his head, one of his gelled curls falling down onto his forehead. You reach up to slick it back.
“Just you,” he says. You hum, spreading your legs so that he can fit himself between them. You rock your hips up against him just to hear him moan, then nibble at his bottom lip. He wants this, you can tell. He wants you.
You run your hands along his shoulders.
“Superman,” you sigh as he presses his hands beneath your sleepshirt and slides them up to squeeze your breasts. “Please . . .”
“Please?” Clark hums as he dips his head and kisses at your throat. “Please what?”
“Please . . . Save me.”
Clark’s lips, plump and pink, press against yours before he pulls back in order to unzip his suit. He shrugs the whole thing off, leaving him in his underwear before you, and you tug him back on top of you. Your legs spread once more, and his clothed erection presses against you.
“I’m the luckiest woman in Metropolis,” you whisper in his ear as he pulls his cock free.
“Why’s that?” Clark asks, even though he knows what you are going to say. You hook your fingers into your underwear, push them down, and toss them aside. Clark’s tip nudges against you.
“Because I get to fuck you, Superman,” you say as he presses in. You inhale sharply, nails digging into his strong back as he fills you completely. You let out a quiet moan, eyes fluttering, and Clark groans.
“Y-You always feel so good,” Clark sighs, brows furrowed as his hips begin to rock. You bite your lip and reach up to tug at his perfect hair.
“So do you,” you sigh. “O-Oh god . . .”
His thrusts are quick and hard, yet somehow always just gentle enough. He would never hurt you, not even by accident. You are far too precious to him, far too important.
He’s letting out quiet sounds as he moves on top of you, his hips rocking faster and faster. Clark reaches for your hands and squeezes them. You lean up to kiss him, and he sighs against your mouth. This dance that the two of you do is sacred and special. You wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Clark grunts and releases one of your hands in favor of pushing up your sleepshirt to reveal your breasts. You gasp when he sucks one of your nipples into his mouth. He loves you so dearly, every part of you is to be worshipped and adored.
Clark’s thrusts are becoming sloppy and shallow, and you know he’s getting close. You give his hair a tug, making him moan.
“Cum in me, Superman,” you breathe. “Fill me up. Make me yours.”
Clark groans at your words, and he spills deep inside of you almost immediately. You gasp at the feeling of being so full of him, and when his thrusts slow to a stop, you take his face in your hands and kiss him deeply.
“Mmm. I love you,” you sigh. Clark nods, nudging his nose against yours gently.
Kinktober Fic #5: Exhibitionism + The Projectionist (Pearl)
Tags: NSFW (18+), public sex, slight voyeurism if you squint, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, praise
Word Count: 1.3k
Summary: You and the Projectionist have some fun in the back room of the picture house.
The world is quiet on nights like these – nights where everyone in the theater is focused and in their seats, their eyes trained on the dazzling silver screen at the front of the room. Evenings spent in the back room of the Picture House are always interesting, if not for the picture itself, then for the company that comes along with it.
The projectionist is a mysterious yet charming man, you’ve come to find. His hair is always slicked back, not a single curl out of place, and he smells of a cologne that you’ve never smelt on anyone else before. You’d asked him once where it came from, and he’d promptly told you, France.
That explains why no one else is wearing it.
You’re watching him, now, as he loads tonight’s film onto the projector. His shirt is unbuttoned down to the third button, and he’s already shrugged off his suspenders. You cross your legs, your core warming as you watch him. He knows exactly what he’s doing, always so focused when at-work. A cigarette sits between his lips, and he takes a drag before pulling it away and exhaling smoke.
“You look real handsome tonight,” you tell him softly. He glances at you, a smile playing at his lips. The picture starts up for the theater full of people on the other side of the wall, and he steps towards you as the projector whirs and clicks.
“You’re lookin’ mighty fine yourself,” he responds quietly, putting his cigarette out in a nearby ashtray. You smile up at him. He’s looking at you like he’s hungry, like you’re the only thing that will satisfy him.
You uncross your legs, and spread them slightly, the skirt of your dress going taut with the motion. You reach for the hem of it, not once taking your eyes off of him, and he continues to move towards you. His shoes click softly against the floor as he does.
You pull your skirt up to bunch around your hips, and he leans down to tug your drawers off without warning. You gasp softly, and he grins as he tosses them aside, then reaches between your spread thighs to rub your core.
“You need it, hm?” he hums quietly, not wanting any of the sound to travel into the next room over. You sigh, head falling back as his thick fingers work their way over your throbbing slit. You think of the door to the alleyway – likely unlocked and easy to access. You think of the theater full of viewers next door – happily watching the picture on-screen. You think of him – his skilled fingers, his massive cock that is hardening in his trousers – and everything seems to make sense.
You were made to live a life like this, a life full of pleasure and impulsivity. Things are nice like this; there is no one to boss you around or tell you where to go or what to do. There is only this. There is only him.
When he pulls his fingers away, they’re coated in your arousal. You sigh at the sight, legs still spread wide.
“Get in me,” you breathe, looking up at him with a smile. He wastes no time in pushing his pants down a bit, reaching into them, and pulling his erection free. He’s leaking at the tip, his member flushed with want, and you bite your lip at the sight.
He nudges you back, then moves down on top of you, cock in-hand. You cup his cheeks and pull him in for a kiss. He lets you, his lips moving intentionally against yours as he presses his cock against your entrance. You whine. Behind him, the projector continues to hum. You hear a patron coughing softly from inside the theater.
You hope that no one hears when the bed begins to creak with his movements. His hips staccato against yours, moving in quick, harsh thrusts. You gasp, gripping his hair as he moves atop you. You lean up as best you can to whisper in his ear.
“You f-fuck me so well.”
He grunts at your words.
“Y-You take me so well,” he says back.
You sigh, smiling as you let your head fall back against the mattress. It smells like him; like musk and cigarettes and his French cologne. You breathe it in as you look up at him. Your eyes are shining and dark with lust. You grip his shirt tightly, your body bouncing from the force of his hips.
He’s grunting and sighing, his breathing uneven and needy as he takes you. Good. That’s how you like him, melting. He’s so big and strong and manly, but he also knows that this is the kind of pleasure only a woman could bring him. Nothing feels as good as this does. No one is as wonderful as you are.
You moan softly, reaching down between your thighs to rub the sensitive nub between them. Your fingers, coated in arousal – yours and his both – move quickly and tightly. You know exactly how to chase your orgasm, and your core spasms as you get closer to it. He lets out a soft sigh, his breath caressing the shell of your ear as he does.
“How do I feel?” you ask him, breathless with pleasure. He’s lost in you, in all that you are, in all that you represent.
“Swell,” he manages, nodding. “R-Real swell . . .”
You run your free hand through his hair. Music swells in the other room, and you hear the audience gasping at the silver screen. You close your eyes for a moment.
“Better than all your other ladies?” you ask him. He chuckles, then, because you both know that there is only you. Yesterday, today, tomorrow – it’s you.
“Better ‘n all of ‘em,” he says. “I got my best girl right here.”
You spread your legs further and tilt your hips up. His cock slams right up against the sensitive spot inside of you, and you gasp. Your pussy squelches obscenely as he takes you. It’s so loud that you briefly worry that the movie-goers can hear it, but you’re so close, right there on the edge of climaxing, and he’s looking down at you with that look on his face that is saying Please let me cum in you.
You’re nodding before you can stop to think about it.
“Fill me up,” you tell him, tugging on his hair as you rub your clit. The music in the theater comes to a head. Your orgasm crashes down over you like a wave at sea. It engulfs you so wholly, so completely. You let yourself fall apart in front of him – your brows furrow, your toes curl, your cunt tightens. He grunts as he feels your core flooding with a fresh wave of want. It is hot and wet and oh so delicious.
You gasp when his hips stutter and his warm seed spills into you. Your grip on his shirt tightens. Oh, god, he’s so handsome when he cums. He’s handsome always.
“Yes!” you breathe, brows knitting together in ecstasy at the feeling of being so completely full of him, of his cock, his spunk, his scent. He is everywhere. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck and pull him down for a kiss.
His lips work against yours, and you hum quietly.
“That was good,” you tell him. He kisses you again, then pulls out and tucks himself back into his pants while you reach over for your drawers. Your legs feel limp and jelly-like when you sit up and get to your feet. He watches as you pull your drawers back on, then right the skirt of your dress.
He leans in to fix your hair for you.
“Should I expect to see you again before the week’s up?” he asks somewhat tenderly. Your heart flutters. You love it when he talks to you like that.
“Yes, sir,” you say, getting to your feet. You kiss his cheek, then squeeze his shoulder and pull away. “Enjoy the rest of the pictures tonight.”
