it’s not even hard—he’s not even hard—and the damn thing is already blushing at the tip, thick with blood and heavy enough to rest against the dense curve of his thigh.
clark’s got those lazy, dusky veins wrapping around the shaft like vines, one in particular that runs along the underside in a thick, stubborn line that catches the light when he moves. it pulses sometimes, like it’s annoyed. like it knows he’s trying to tame it into latex and propriety.
and the condoms? the xxl ones? they look like balloon animals stretched halfway up, stuck at the swell where he starts to really thicken out. can’t even roll past the middle.
they pinch and they fucking hurt like hell.
he thought it was a brand issue at first, bought three different boxes. tried different positions in the mirror: bent forward, standing up, leg on the toilet like some godforsaken centaur and every time, it’s the same problem.
“built wrong,” he mumbles, cheeks pink, breath fogging the mirror. he won’t meet his own eyes.
but the truth is, he’s not built wrong. he’s built like clark. heavyset and freckled, like every inch of him has been kissed by the sun and decided to keep the evidence. even there, right at the base, he’s got those faint little reddish freckles dusting the skin. it’s the same shade as the soft trail of dark hair leading down from his navel, and the darker patch at the root—almost black, thick and coarse, barely trimmed because he’s too embarrassed to do anything else to it.
he doesn’t know what to do with himself. he can bench-press a tractor but can’t figure out how to be small enough to fit.
he keeps the box in the drawer like it’s a shameful secret. unopened now, just there like it’s mocking him into a reminder of how big he is.
he’s not sure if he’s supposed to apologize for it or warn someone or just… hide.
but maybe one day—maybe—someone will kiss that apologetic look right off his mouth and tell him he’s not too anything. he’s just clark. and he fits them just fine.
🗒️ 𓈒 . you shove your face into the fluffy pillows as fat dick! clark buries himself inside your tight pussy. he groans loudly from behind you, hooded eyes fixated on the way your pretty body swallowed him so easily.
“take me so good, angel… you’re perfect..” he praises, rough hands tracing over your sides and hips as he holds his hips to your ass for a minute to let you adjust. “squeezing my cock so hard.” he grunts at the way your walls flutter around his veiny length.
“oh, god..” you moan breathily, voice muffled from the silky pillowcase. your back was bowed so perfectly, ass on display for clark beautifully. and he was so thick, soaked cock stuffing you full. “i know it’s a lot, sweet girl..” he leans down to kiss at your shoulder blade, sliding inside impossibly further. “a-aah—” a whimper escapes your lips, knees aching against the mattress.
“can you handle it, baby?” his voice is softer, still pulled tight with the effort of restraint. “i—fuck, yes. i can.” you moan, brows furrowed as you shift under him.
then he’s dragging his heavy length out until only his flushed and leaky head was inside you. then he’s thrusting back into you, splitting your folds open to spread around his cock. your eyes roll back with pleasure as he builds his pace, fucking you nice and deep. “fuck! clark—”
“that’s it..take this dick, shit, baby.” he moans, muscles flexing as he squeezes your hips while rocking you backward onto his cock. “perfect little pussy..” his eyes never leave your soaking cunt, wet plaps echoing in the room. “gonna make me cum so fucking fast.”
the stretch burned so good, making your jaw go slack and eyes glossy with tears. your cunt tightened around him, swollen clit being slapped by his sticky balls. “please,” you moan weakly, subconsciously fucking yourself onto him and meeting his sharp thrusts. “i know, angel. needed this fat cock so bad, didn’t you?” he taunts, tickling fingers up your spine, and back down to your round ass, gripping the flesh tightly.
your hand slams on the desk beneath you—so loud, yet it’s hardly louder than the man between your thighs.
clark’s tongue drags from your hole to your clit, licking up your juices before sucking on the aching pearl. he looks so pussydrunk, blue eyes fluttering closed with a desperate expression twisting his pretty face.
it makes you moan—which in turn makes him moan—as your hand grips clark’s hair, tugging his back down to your cunt.
he slurps up any of your juices that you give him, delightfully tonguing your hole with no abandon.
“gosh, honey—“ his hands grip tighter on the fat of your thighs, tugging you closer to his face. “you taste so good,” he moans between your thighs, one large hand palming at your breast.
at first hesitancy sat throughout your bones—what began as a simple make out with some egregious groping and fondling made clark drop to his knees within 4 minutes after a light bulb went off in his head; your skirt was easy to flip up.
your protests died silently after he lifted you on a random desk, hands greedily moving to pull your panties off and (put them in his pocket) away from your wet cunt.
call him a perv, sure, but he simply cannot see it that way when your back arches so prettily, thighs spreading wider for him. his hands move back to your legs, seating them over his shoulders. two thick fingers push into your fluttering pussy, groaning when he feels you clench around them.
summary: clark teaches you how to give head
based on this request
cw: smut (mdni, 18+), oral (m rec), reader’s first time giving head, soft dom!clark and his sweet but filthy mouth
wc: 1.6k
a/n: hope everyone had a nice christmas (if you celebrate). mine was kind of meh and a little exhausting, but that’s the holidays. but I don’t want to be ungrateful, I got a new ipad hihihi, and I’m very thankful. anyway, enough yapping, let’s go for some smut. not proofread, we die like jesus christ. am I allowed to say this so soon after his birthday?
now playing: No Plan – Hozier
“Easy, baby,” Clark whispers as his hands caress your hair. He’s hard and aching, his cock twitching in front of your closed lips, the blush at the tip spreading down to his base. You follow the flow of his blood with nervous but giddy anticipation.
He twitches as your fingers ghost over the prominent veins, the thick one, slightly off-center, catching your attention.
“Jeez,” he gasps, tongue darting out to moisten his lower lip.
You’ve never seen him like this before—the glimmer in his eyes, the tremble in his chin—it settles right between your thighs as you watch him.
You’re a little wary. Clark’s cock matches the rest of him, all big and thick and almost too much, and you’ve never done this before. You’re sat between his legs, one of your palms resting on his upper thigh while the other curiously explores. It’s rare that you do most of the work, and even now, Clark is apprehensive about letting you lift your fingers too much.
His hand finds yours, warm and largely engulfing, as he keeps you from driving him too crazy.
“Let me—,” he mutters, then adds, “Please?”
You nod, the butterflies in your belly fluttering around at high speed.
Clark takes your hand and slowly strokes himself to full mast, his eyes falling closed and lips open, quick breaths dispelling in seconds. You watch with fascination, feeling the velvety skin under your fingers, then the sticky precum that begins to coat your palm. He’s hard as a rock and still soft at the same time—it’s a strange but mesmerizing feeling.
“Gosh,” he mumbles, then stops abruptly, “Okay, okay. That’s—wow—I mean, you’re…”
His lack for words calms your nerves a bit. He’s as worked up about this as you are, with a mix of pride and eagerness reflecting in his expression.
“Your hands are really soft,” he settles on, a bit of bashfulness flickering across his face.
Your chuckle echoes through the space and makes him break out into a matching smile until he grows more serious again.
“You know you don’t have to do this,” he states, concern knitting his eyebrows together. He takes your hand away from his cock and presses a kiss to your knuckles, dismissing his own sticky liquid completely. His eyes stay glued to your own, the divot between his brows deepening. He can’t help but worry at all times, even when you’re burning from the inside out to finally get your mouth on him.
“I want to,” you insist, “Please, Clark, I wanna- I wanna learn. I want to make you feel good.”
Clark’s eyes close involuntarily, the corners of his lips twitching.
“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, but that’s all he manages to say.
Keeping your eyes on him, you learn forward until your mouth touches the tip of his cock. He groans instantly, his hand flying up to your cheek as if he’s not sure whether to stop you or pull you closer. It settles there, right on top of your jawbone, his grip tight but gentle.
You’re shy at first, a few wet kisses peppered nervously, but you gain courage as Clark’s barely contained mewls fill your ears. He’s quiet at first, just soft moans and breathless whispers that you barely make out next to the blood coursing through your ears, until he grows a little louder. A deep growl builds in his chest as you part your lips and let your tongue dart out through his slit. A pulse of precum beads at his tip and is quickly slurped up by you. The salty flavor blooms across your taste buds, heady and deeply masculine, just like the rest of Clark.
Your bravery reaches its peak once you fully open your mouth and allow the head of his cock to pop in, your eyes growing wide. Once he’s inside, he feels even bigger, heavy against your tongue and teeth. You’re not scared because you don’t trust him, but because you’re worried you might hurt him—scrape him with your teeth, or do something he doesn’t like.
But that’s clearly not the case, not according to the gasps and words that flow from Clark.
“Oh gosh, darling—that’s- that’s… wow, oh—”
His hips thrust unintentionally, inching him a little deeper into your mouth, but you take him gladly.
“Are you- are you okay?” he asks instantly, already tempted to pull out, but you only hollow your cheeks, sucking him in further.
It’s a lot—it’s so much. You’re not sure where Clark ends and where you begin, but god, it feels so right. He’s everywhere in your mouth, his taste, his scent, the weight of his cock. Drops of pleasure mix with your saliva and roll down your throat, making you wish he’d fill you even more.
Clark’s free hand takes your own and wraps it around the base of his cock. Then, he leans back but keeps his other hand on your jaw, massaging and stroking gently. You squeeze what you can’t fit in your mouth, and there’ still a lot of inches to be covered, but Clark makes you take your time.
He allows you to get used to the intrusion, then whispers, “Take a breath, baby, yeah? Through your nose.”
His voice trembles more and more, breaking at the end of the sentence with pleasure as you let your tongue swirl around him.
You inhale based on his instructions, finding a rhythm, then work him deeper in your mouth.
“That’s… that’s it.”
Clark whimpers. He whimpers right as you swallow, bobbing your head closer to the neatly trimmed hair on his tummy. A lot of distance remains to be bridged, but you’re getting there.
Your hand remains resting on Clark’s thigh—you feel the muscles tense and twitch below your palm, his skin slickening as he continues to hold back. The reminder of the strength that slumbers beneath his layers of restraint sends the heat pooling in your lower tummy right to your core. Creamy webs of arousal coat the gusset of your panties, but your focus lingers on Clark as he pulses in your mouth.
“Sweetheart,” he gasps, “Is it alright if I… if I…”
The words he won’t speak aren’t lost on you. You feel every minimal, subconscious thrust that originates from his hips, the way he’s aching for more—and so are you.
You nod as best as you can and work your way further down his cock, swallowing and sucking, letting your tongue dance around him as he slides to the back of your throat. His tip meets some resistance, and for a second, you can’t tell where up and down is, your vision swimming from lack of oxygen, until Clark grounds you.
His fingers caress your cheek, his eyes, still darkened with pleasure, meet yours.
“Breathe, baby. Please,” he reminds you, and you do.
Sweat trickles down your temples, drenching the fine hairs framing your face, but he’s right where you want him, and euphoria crashes through you. Clark’s cock is as deep down your throat as you can manage, a sense of pride filling you, making you even more determined.
“Yeah, baby… good girl—” The praise shoots lightning bolts into every corner of your body, and you let yourself fall into the warmth and safety of Clark’s hands. His fingers thread through your hair, the gentle pressure on your scalp keeping you afloat.
Clark won’t close his eyes now, not when he’s so close. His eyes are half-lidded, but his pupils are trained on you, most of the blue iris swallowed by his arousal.
He pulls out of your throat for a bit, then slides himself right back, making both of you moan. The vibrations of your pleasured sounds travel up through the length of his cock, and once again, you feel him twitch. He’s not holding himself back anymore.
Clark’s hand on your head guides you—it doesn’t force. He thrusts into your throat, and you swallow around him gladly, watching with amazement as his mouth parts further and further, his lower lip trembling. His hips have found their own rhythm, entranced by the tightness of your warm, wet mouth. The stifled gasps that build in his chest come out broken and desperate, a whine here, a whimper there, but even at the edge of his release, he mumbles sweet nothings to you.
“So good, baby.”
“That’s my girl.”
“Feels so great, oh my.”
“Oh gosh, oh- oh- darlin’—“
He taps your cheek gently despite the raging fire of pleasure in him as a warning before the salty tang of his cum coats your tongue and throat as he empties himself in your mouth. You’re swallowing for what feels like hours, trying to catch every drop. Clark cums like he fucks—sweet, and gentle, and still so overpowering.
Once the last drop of his iridescent arousal goes down your throat, he eases out of your mouth with such tenderness that your heart aches with an outpour of adoration for the panting man opposite you.
A goofy, satisfied smile sits at the center of his face as he meets your eyes.
“You’re amazing,” he murmurs, reaching out to wipe away the last bit of his remnants from the corner of your mouth.
“Are you okay?” he adds just as quickly.
Oh, you’re more than okay.
You nod instantly.
“That was… that was incredible,” you rasp, the wear on your throat audible.
He can’t help the sheepish smirk that steals its way onto his face.
“You’re incredible, sweetheart.”
❤︎ just a quick reminder that the best way to support authors on here is to comment and reblog ❤︎
☆ find my masterlist here ☆
summary : in which Clark’s in a rut trying to avoid you for your own good until you’re ovulating. And quite literally do it like they do on the discovery channel.
(IM SORRY. this song is such a jam, based on the song by the bloodhound gang
Contents : Swearing , Clark in a rut, oral ( f receiving) , face riding , Alien tongue. making out, Clark sniffing you , biting , humping , whimpering, howling, P IN V UNPROTECTED, breeding kink, levitating, mentions of pregnancy, belly bulge , pincers , mating press, rough sex, size kink, man handling , pussy sniffing. Reader calling Clark superman and kal, crying, manhandling , hyperspermia
3k words !!
SEXUAL CONTENT BELOW THE CUT
MDNI
Clark has been avoiding you for the last two days. There was something sickeningly off about him. He refused to kiss you, refused to look at you. Whenever it was bedtime he would sleep in the guest room and locked it.
In a way it made you feel a little insecure. Was there something wrong with you?? Did you upset him?
And then came the whimpering whenever he was near you. Or the fact every time he went into the guest room you could hear him. Groaning painfully and the creaking of the bed. Getting off using his hand. The pillow. A toy you once bought him EVERYTHING. BUT. YOU.
He was in a rut. No way in hell was he going near you. Because he wound hurt you by fucking you into oblivion. You're too small to handle something like that. He would hate if he hurt you. It's unforgivable.
And that's when you started aching. Your pussy throbbing desperately for touch. For anything it can get. You had started humping a pillow when Clark left for work. Rutting your hips making sure it rubbed against your clit every single time making you whimper.
But it wasn't enough. It wasn't Clark. You needed him because he knew exactly how to fuck you. How to take care of you and give you everything you need.
That night you were in the kitchen cutting up some strawberries when the door to the guest room opened, of course you waited for him to ignore you again. Until.... He smelt it. A sweet lingering smell. Not the strawberries no no... this smell made him even more hard. His 10 inch kryptonian veiny dick bulging out of his pants painfully from just the sheer smell. And he whimpered.
Then... you heard sniffing. Clark walks over to you and starts sniffing you. Grabbing at your waist and inhaling your scent. His skin was roasting hot.
"Baby what are you doing?" You giggle softly and he inhales deeply before letting out a low growl and pulling your head back slightly to kiss you deeply. It's a kiss that makes your toes curl. Shoving his tongue into your mouth and rutting his hard dick against your ass relentlessly.
The sensation made you more needy , more soaked between the legs kissing him back more hungry. It all made sense. He was in a rut. You're ovulating.
You're both fucked. Figuratively and literally.
Within seconds you're more bent over the counter and he's thrusting against you. Essentially imitating fucking you to get friction on his dick. He was scared to go all the way. He would hurt you. But you needed this. You knew he needed this.
"Baby?" You coo at him and he growls painfully at you disturbing him. But he forces himself to stop.
"What?? Are you okay? What do you want?" He whimpered and you push yourself off the counter and turn around to look at him and tilt your head looking at his blue eyes that are threatening to darken, the joggers he's wearing and white shirt . Then you look down at his joggers. His pants are bulging. Dick about to rip out. The dark patch forming just from how good you fucking smell to him. It’s the most addictive thing he’s ever smelt and it’s hurting him even more to be around you right now.
"Baby... you're gonna get sick , you need this ..." You sigh at him and his jaw clenched shaking his head.
"You don't know what you're saying, I will hurt you. When I start I can't stop." But as he was saying it his dick was twitching at the sound of your voice. How pretty you were. How small you were. Just how easy it would be to split you into two with his dick.
"I'm telling you. I can handle it. Now come with me before I fuck myself" you taunt him walking to the bedroom and taking your clothes off. And within seconds he's following the scent of your pussy like a bloodhound. And there you were. Laid naked on your bed spread out for him. The way your pussy was dripping and all puffy for him. The sweet musky smell paining him more. He's ripping his clothes off like a feral animal before climbing onto the bed and crawling between your legs. Dipping his head down and sniffing your pussy. Inhaling the scent , his eyes turning a wicked dark blue.
Then a pained howl slips from his mouth as he's rutting his hips into the sheets and looking at you.
"Please.. can I.. please baby.. please?" He's whimpering and humping the bed panting like a dog. He’s so needy and he knows it.
"Clark. This is for your own good. Take what you need. I love you. I trust you!" You coo. That's all it took. For him to bite your thighs dragging kisses along them before diving into your pussy like a mad man. Lapping at the juices and rubbing his nose all over your clit making you shriek. If he could live between your legs for the rest of his life he would die a happy man.
He's dragging his tongue in and out of your pretty hole trying to get as much of your wetness all over his face. He's nasty. You're grabbing his head pulling him closer and humping his face whimpering. His nails dig into your thighs, the wedding ring on his hand glistening, pulling you even closer like he's trying to suffocate himself.
Moments later he's spinning you both around so you're sat on his face.
You rut against his mouth screeching at how good it felt. Until... his tongue goes deeper into your pussy than it usually does. Stretching deeply into your pussy and dragging all over your walls. Slurping you out and you shudder going cross eyed.
Meanwhile he's humping the air. He needs to fuck you. You reach your hand out pumping his dick and he whimpers underneath you. The Precum runs all over your hand and he’s now humping your hand desperately. You pull your hand off licking your fingers.
But as you try get off his face he's growling pulling you back down and shoving his tongue deeper and rubbing his nose at your clit still sniffing your arousal.
And you came. Hard. All over his face whimpering and he's sucking it up making sure nothing gets left behind pulling his tongue out of your sopping hole and lifting you off his face.
Then you're rapidly flipped onto your stomach and he's propping your legs up and pushing your head down putting his mouth near your ear panting and almost shuddering.
"Last chance baby... you know I can't stop right? My genes won't let me.." a soft kiss to your cheek his breath desperate and hitching.
"And I told you. Take what you need. We're married Clark. I trust you!" You look at him and he throws his glasses on the side table grabbing his dick and slamming it into your aching pussy with no remorse. Burying his throbbing kryptonian dick. You felt your walls stretching out brutally and he's letting out a gut wrenching grunting howl as he starts thrusting brutally and grabbing your waist.
"OH FUCK! CLARK!" You squealed and he's grunting like a mad man thrusting deeper. Head thrown back like he's needed this his entire life.
"OH MY F—- GOSH! NGhhhhh!! I'm sorry I'm sorry I have to do this I can't help it" He's going harder both arms wrapping around you tugging you closer.
Your pussy was squelching and squeezing his dick and he's groaning loudly eyes rolling back. You close your eyes for just a moment feeling sensitive from your last orgasm. When you feel like you're floating. Literally floating. Your head all fuzzy and light. And when you open your eyes. You quite literally ARE. You're in the air. Nowhere near the bed. You shriek limbs thrashing about the new angle making you bent in half as he's plummeting harder into you.
"Clark!! I'm gonna fall!” You shrieked and his arms tightened around you more and he whimpered at his deep he could fuck you like this. He really couldn’t help it.
"N...no!! I'm sorry baby you're safe with me. Just take it. Please just." He grunts still holding back slightly. The tinge of nice Clark is still there. That wasn’t going to help him. He needed this out of his system before it destroyed him.
He plummeted deeper using your entire body as leverage while your head hung and it made you dizzy and the blood rushes to your head. The impending orgasm felt like it was going to destroy you.
So when it rips through you making your cunt tighten around Clark's dick he whimpers shuddering and you felt dizzy.
He slowly stops levitating pulling you onto his lap facing away from him and fucking up into you through the orgasm grunting like a mad man. His hands on your breast and he's biting at your neck leaving marks.
You shriek bouncing on him slightly. Two orgasms deep and the sound of the wetness of your pussy fills the room. He's still inhaling the scent groaning.
"C..Clark..?" You whimpered ans he tilts your head back kissing you again. Pushing his tongue into your mouth letting you taste yourself. His lips working against your own perfectly.
"Hmm?" Talk to me!" He muttered against your mouth.
"You're holding back. I told you not to!" You moan bouncing on his dick desperately trying to get off.
"I told you. I'll hurt you. Don't make me do this baby. Please nghhhh I know what's best for you. If I lose control. I'll hurt you and you'll wind up pregnant." He whimpered into your ear and you get off his dick making him growl again grabbing your waist.
"So do it. Lose control. Breed me Clark. Get your wife pregnant." You spat out and within seconds you're being grabbed and thrown down onto the pillows. His instincts have taken over and he's pushing your legs apart.
"Not gonna be finished with you until you're stuffed with my cum baby.."He shoves into you all again plummeting his dick in ans out of your sopping wet pussy making you squeak and he's howling all over again grunting as he fucks into you. "OHHHH NGHHH I'm so sorry.. oh my fu... FUCK!" He splutters out which is rare for him to curse. But the way your pussy is clamping on him turns him crazy.
"CLARK!" You scream and he's pushing your legs over his shoulder leaning down to kiss you deeply , you whimper into his mouth lashing your tongue with his and whimpering. His dick is bullying your pussy with everything he can. All 10 inches. The girth making your pussy slobber all over him.
It feels like you're gonna be split in too but you can't stop him. You need this. He needs this. He needs to breed you.
"Gonna get my baby all swollen. My pretty wife is gonna carry our baby.. OUR baby" He grunts pushing your legs down more desperately fucking you.
His hand reaches down to rub your clit harshly and fast so it’s not long before another orgasm comes crashing down and you cum so hard you’re almost pushing his dick out.
“No baby.. no no cmon.. you need me in here. Yeah. You wanted this.” He pushes further into you burying himself to the hilt bucking his hips. You’re moaning louder. He’s whimpering.
“Baby I can’t cum again..” You whimpered a tear falling and he grunts carrying on
“Yes you can. I’ll get you there!” He’s pushing your thighs down more it’s shocking how you’re not breaking in half. Instead you’re wailing. Loudly. Tears falling down your face.
“No no.. I’m sorry.. I’m sorry I’m like this… oh… gosh baby… you’re so beautiful!” He leans down kissing your tears away plummeting faster while he’s whimpering. Your pussy is throbbing around him and tears start falling down his own face rutting into you harder and the headboard is smashing against the wall.
“OH… honey! S..stop! I …FFFF…NGHHH!”
The neighbours are pounding on the wall.
“WILL YOU TWO STOP ACTING LIKE ANIMALS!” You hear them yell and somehow it only spurs Clark on more as he sobs slamming in and out of your stretched out and abused pussy.
He moves your legs helping you wrap them around his waist and he’s yanking you closer to him somehow managing to be tougher if that was even possible. You sink your teeth into his shoulder and drag your nails down his back and he howls again his thrusts slowing down but plummeting deeply.
The bed creaks desperately and threatening to break. But he’s not stopping.
“Gonna breed you. Huh. Is that what my wife wants. To be so stuffed with my cum so hard that you get swollen?” He coos tauntingly slamming his lips back on yours in a claiming kiss that’s rougher than the others.
“Yes!! Yes superman! Breed me. Breed me with your fucking kid Kal el.., gonna get so big..make you a daddy!” You splutter out his kryptonian name and he stops for a second pulling away for a kiss. His eyes now darker than they’ve ever been. Dilated. Almost black.
“What… did you just call me?” He pants desperately.
“Kal el…” you pant legs shaking. The way it slips off your tongue makes his dick throb Inside you.
“Again” He enunciates with a brutal thrust.
“Kal… kal el.. love you so much.” You whimper and he does it again.
“Again. Say it again. I love you fuck.. gosh! Please!”
“Kal el… oh my fucking god kal!” You screech and he’s lost it. He’s fucking you like a complete animal grunting and growling loudly. He doesn’t even care that the neighbours can hear.
“My pretty human wife. You’re gonna look so good pregnant! “ He growls so loudly slamming into you relentlessly and the bed is shaking brutally.
He looks down lifting his torso slightly watching his dick poke out of your stomach with every thrust. He loved how tiny and helpless you were. He’s so sick. Quite literally he’s in a rut. But he can’t help it. You’re perfect.
God he was gonna love you pregnant. All swollen. Boobs getting bigger. Carrying HIS baby because that’s what HE did to YOU. The thought alone makes his head fuzzy and wanna fuck you harder than humanely possible.
His hand reaches down pushing down onto the bulge fucking you harder and you sob feeling the final coil build. This was the orgasm that felt like it was going to break him.
“Clark..kal el! I’m gonna -“ You shrieked before you collapsed around his dick. Sucking him in so hard you milk him and he yelps loudly shoving himself in and your head goes fuzzy. You feel sharp pincers latching onto your gummy walls and you cry out tears rapidly falling.
“I’m sorry baby.. I’m sorry.. I’m gonna cum and it’s gonna be a lot okay?” He tried to move and the pincers yank him in further and you wail.
With a gut wrenching sob he cums hard rutting load after load into your wrecked pussy, the cum already swelling your pussy up and warming you up more. The spikes dig further in locking him in place as he keeps cumming. You felt so full.
You whimper trying to push him out but he can’t. He physically can’t.
Until he can. And he’s back to being an animal. Slamming every last bit he can into your pretty little womb making sure it keeps. Making sure he can fuck you so hard you’re pregnant.
The bed creaks sickeningly before snapping sending you plummeting and he’s somehow deeper than he was before. Your legs in the air angling you so his cum goes further inside you.
“Oh my gosh… baby! Are you okay?” He gasps his eyes back to the blue you know and love and a small sniffling sob rips from your mouth. He’s pulling out and pulling you into his arms rocking you like a baby.
“Oh I’m sorry… I’m so sorry .. I love you I’m sorry!!” he’s kissing all over your face and shushing you gently. But the sobs turn into laughter and little giggles.
He immediately looks concerned ans tilts his head “baby what’s so funny? I hurt you? I’m horrible!”
You look at him face puffy from crying and snort out weakly.
“I think we might need a new bed” you beam stating the obvious and he shakes his head wiping tears away.
“Ya think? I think we’re gonna need new neighbours” he chuckles weakly already grabbing you some comfy clothes and helping you pull them on.
The pounding on the walls happens again.
“YOU FUCKING SICK BASTARDS SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Clark scoffs knocking back on the wall politely.
“EXCUSEEEE ME ! Me and my WIFE are trying for a baby THANK YOU!” he shakes his head pulling on some of his own clothes and scooping you up carrying you to the guest room. You climbed onto his chest on the bed and hug him so tightly resting your head on his chest to listen to his kryptonian heartbeat.
“I missed you baby… so much. Please never avoid me again.” You sigh and he rubs your back gently and sighs.
“I’m sorry baby … just doing what’s best for you. The last thing I ever wanna do is hurt you. You’re safe with me always.” Another kiss on the top of your head. Your nose. Your lips. Anywhere he can just to comfort you and let you know that he’s not a threat in any way.
“I can’t believe we broke the bed. I mean it though. I really do wanna have a kid with you baby…” he coos and your heart thuds.
“Trust me with the way you’re going. I doubt it won’t be long till I am and we can always keep trying!”
YEW N ME BABY AINT NUFFIN BUT MAMMALS SO LETS DEW IT LIKE THEY DEW ON THE DISCOVERY CHANNEL 🫵🫵🫵🫵
HELLO!! HI!!! uhm.. I missed Clark. Sorry pookie been cheating on you with Scott 😖😖😖
summary: spending all day as the daily planet’s golden boy has got clark kent at the last bit of his patience. that little string of control snaps the moment he sees you in nothing but his shirt and those damn panties. good luck!
pairing: clark kent x fem!reader
tags: 18+ MDNI / porn w/o plot / established relationship / misuse of superhuman powers / major dirty talk / unprotected sex / belly bulges / squi rting / c-pie / overstim / semi-public sex (they do it in the kitchen) / oral (f and mild m) / pet names / frustrated clark / coy reader / slight dumbificafion / alludes to marathon / no use of y/n / wc: 3.4k
An entire day of running around Metropolis to get his stories in check has got Clark Kent on the verge of crashing out.
Operating on a very thin string of patience now, he stands over the copy machine with his arms crossed, forehead creased. That trademark Clark Kent smile was replaced with thinly-pursed lips as he stares the wall clock down like it was going to speed up the longer he stared at it.
He's been waiting for the machine to finish spitting out the full fifty copies that Lois had asked him for. Truth be told he couldn't be bothered to even think about what she's cooking up in that head of hers. At that point in Clark's life, all he wanted was to finish up, drop the copies on her desks, and drive back to you.
You haven't texted him all day.
The last he'd heard of you was the sleepy Fill up Shelby's bowls before you leave you said before he kissed you goodbye to head to work at three in the damn morning.
Safe to say he's really aching to be by your side right now, spooning you in his arms, shooing Shelby away from possibly stealing your attention from him. God, I can't believe I'm fighting a dog for her attention, Clark found himself shaking his head, a light disbelieving smile stretching on his face.
He fishes his phone from his pocket, deciding to be a normal human being and calling you instead of using his super-hearing to intrude on whatever it is you're doing.
Four rings in, you're not answering.
Clark decides to message you instead, Hey beautiful, still awake?
His lovesick smile disappears as he hears the rather unfortunate sound of the copy machine acting up. "Not now," he groans, rubbing his forehead to resist the urge to kick the bottom of the machine and risk damaging it even more.
Instead of forcing the machine to push out the fifteen copies left, he uses his x-ray vision and speed runs through the entire maintenance closet to fix the jam.
It's just a machine like anything else, how hard could it be?
The answer to that is a two-hours kind of hard as the fifty copies finally lands on Lois' desks at eleven p.m. with a hefty thump.
Clark checks on his phone one more time as he walks out of the building, standing by his red truck. No response from you yet.
That's weird.
You're not the type to not reply, you're the type to spam him fifteen thousand messages when he doesn't reply in less than three seconds.
"Hey, you asleep already?" He looks around, "I'll bring some food on my way back just in case you're awake and just busy with your TV. Love you." Clark sighs, letting his words drift into your voicemail.
Clark arrives at the farmhouse after an hour's drive. A bag of your favorite chinese food on the passenger seat of his truck. He pulls out the key from the ignition, noticing the lights from the window panes.
"Oh, must be awake then," he mumbles to himself, hurriedly walking up to the front door.
He drops his bags on the chair by the door, hanging his coat on the hanger. "Baby, I'm home!"
Considering the amount of lights turned on, he expected you, or at least Shelby, to come running to his arms but you don't. Shelby doesn't either.
After going around the first floor of the house, he calls again. Thankfully this time, you yell out give me a sec! from upstairs.
Clark finally gets to let out that nervous sigh in his chest, walking to the kitchen to grab a glass of water for himself, the chinese he'd bought home placed neatly on top of the counter.
The water going down his throat nearly rises up as you walk down the stairs and face him; you wore nothing but a gigantic shirt on. One of his go crows! shirts back when he was still playing for the school's football team. The hem ended by your mid-thigh, swallowing your entire frame as your bare legs left nothing to his imagination.
"Hey, handsome," you greet, walking over to him and getting on your tip toes to kiss his lips.
Clark's x-ray vision goes off involuntarily, giving him an entire peek into what you wore underneath his shirt—which is nothing.
Nothing but that red and blue cotton panties you jokingly bought on sale, saying it goes well with his recent outfit color combinations. He got cranky about it, the way you made fun of his fashion taste. Looking at the piece of fabric now, though, he can't help but let his mind zero on the thought of taking it off—
"You brought take out! Did you get—you got the crab rangoons too!" Your eyes sparkle as you take a long whiff of the food in your hands, moaning as you bite into one.
Clark blinks, sweat starting to bead on his temple.
"I, uhm—I was calling you earlier. Were you doing something?" he carefully walks over to you, one arm deviously sliding across your lower back right before you walk away with the takeouts in your hands.
Clark rolls his eyes, mouth parting as he watches you bend over ever so casually, neatly placing the containers inside the fridge. He looks away, fist and jaw clenched. His nostrils flaring as he inhales deeply, a desperate attempt to regulate his hormones.
"Oh, I was busy helping Lana move out from her apartment and I kinda got sidetracked with my book upstairs," you say, glancing up at him from where you were bent, "Sorry, Clarkie."
You rise up, placing your hands on your hips, "Wanna go freshen up before bed? I'll finish up the chapter I'm reading."
Clark quickly turns you around, back to the counter, big hands holding your waist still.
"Oh and Shelby's over at Chloe's too. She needed the company for something," you continue, placing your hands on both of Clark's wrists. He had his eyes glued to your body, not really listening to whatever you were saying. "Now go away, I told you I want to finish the chapter before we go sleep and cuddle."
You do your best to get Clark's attention, even slapping his shoulder to get his head to tilt up. When he does look up, it's to stare at you with a look you recognize all too well.
"Claaaark..." you warn, doing your best to put some distance between the two of you but there was only so much you could do trapped in his arms.
So you let him kiss you, let his lips swallows your all so greedily. His hands running all over your body, slipping underneath the hem of his shirt, palms squeezing the soft flesh of your ass before landing a slap on one.
You gasp, pulling away. "Clark, wait—baby."
Your boyfriend hoists you up the counter, clearing whatever fruit basket is left there, hungrily grabbing your face in his hands. You cross your legs behind his back, pulling the man even closer, already feeling the raging hard on pressing against your core.
He groans into your mouth, sinking his canines onto your bottom lip as you pull at the hair at his nape.
"Missed you so fucking much," he mumbles over the skin of your neck, "Kept thinking about you all day at work. Your smile, your voice, your body." His voice roughens, hands making quick work at unbuttoning the button of his trousers.
"Did you now..." You arch into him, drawing your head back to expose your neck to him. "That why you've been messaging me all day, handsome?"
Green eyes snap up at you, darkening each second, "So you were deliberately ignoring me."
The sound of his metal belt hitting the floor has your lips stretching into a mischievous grin. A good-for-nothing chuckle leaving your throat as you watch him shove down his pants, cock springing out and making itself known.
You lean forward to take him in your hands, squeezing his tip to elicit a deliciously rough grunt from his lips. Clark grips the countertop, desperate to keep his own mind in control.
You move your hand up and down his shaft, smearing the leaking pre-cum all over to lubricate his hard cock. His groans increase in volume. The sound sending shockwaves straight through your core. You spit on both of your hands, jerking him vigorously, desperate to hear more and more of his sounds.
"H-hey—stop," a strong hand comes over yours, effectively stopping you from moving. "We can do that later, baby. I just—fuck, I need to feel you right now," he lets go of you, pushing the hem of your shirt up until it reached your waist. Red and blue panties in full display for him.
You grab the edge of your shirt, already pulling it off of your body when Clark stops you.
"What?" You ask, breathless.
"Keep it on," Clark takes the ends from you and lets it fall back to your waist. "I like how it looks on you, baby. That and these—" he slips his fingers inside of your panties, running them through your slit before he presses them down on your clit.
A shriek escapes your lips as he begins to draw quick circles on your clit. Your hands claw at your hair, feeling his other hand pull your panties to the side, exposing your glistening cunt to the cold night air.
Clark bends down, spitting directly onto your clit, completely oblivious of how loud the sound was. You inhale sharply, eyes screwing shut when you feel his long, thick fingers thrust into your hole, curling upwards right at the spot that had you desperately trying to close your legs.
He'd spent years knowing your body in and out. Practically memorized the exact ways on how he'd get you clenching uncontrollably around him. His fingers moved languidly inside you, massaging your walls in such a sensual pace that your wetness dripped down his forearm.
Your hand drops down, circling your clit yourself while your other hand squeezed your tit, rolling your nipple in your fingers.
Clark pushes your hand away, dropping his lips to suckle on your clit. Flicking it in every direction all the while he inserted another finger. Three fingers now working you open, pressing all in the right spots.
Muddled words escaped your lips, a symphony of please, fuck, Clark filling the air alongside the lewd sounds of your cunt.
"Oh god—that's, fuck, right there, Clark," your hips desperately try to move against his fingers, trying to chase the high building inside of you.
Clark looks at you from where he nestled in between your legs, innocent eyes locking with yours as he makes a show of his tongue. Rapidly swirling around the small bundle of nerves like it was his favorite toy.
"Here?" Clark mumbles, raising his brows before he messily kisses your puffy clit, grinning to himself when he sees your eyes roll back, the sweet moans leaving your swollen lips sounding like pure music to his ears.
He pulls away, the area around his mouth shining with your wetness. "Think she missed me too," his ragged breaths fan against your pussy, the warmth of his breath making you clench around his fingers. "Oooh, she definitely did. Look at that, pretty cunt's turning inside out just to keep my fingers in."
The amusement in his voice was like drugs to you. Driving you even more insane by the second.
Putting his lips back on your clit, his fingers quicken their pace as they begin to bully through your walls. Languid strokes now rougher, thrusting in and out of you in loud squelches.
"Fuck! Shit—Clark, d-don't stop. Fuck, fuck fuck don't you dare—Yes, there!" Your words come out in incoherent babbles.
The way your body shook in his arms was a sight Clark'd never, ever, want to forget. How your fingers tensed as though extending out your claws, clutching to whatever sanity you had left in you. His eyes watch you like a hawk, noticing every tell-tale of your orgasm as his tongue flicked at all the right moments.
Your release comes out in gushes of wetness, spraying all over his forearm, some even landing on the premium fabric of his button-up long sleeve.
Stunned, you clutch at your chest with deep breaths, staring blankly at the ceiling. Your legs tremble weakly, all but falling to the smooth counter if not for the way Clark held onto them.
"Look at that, you've drenched my shirt too," Clark suddenly says, his palm snaking under your head to lift it up, forcing you to see the wet splotches on the shirt you were wearing.
"Whose fault is that?" You huff at him, body still spasming with occasional tremors.
Clark chuckles at you, ignoring the way you stare at him like he was somebody that just wronged you. "Not mine," he answers, ghosting his lips over your jaw, suddenly tugging you down the counter with his strong arms.
Your knees wobbled as your feet touched the cool floor, you would have surely fallen straight down if not for the firm and stable grip Clark had on your grip.
"Well hello," you gulp, throat going dry as you stare at his cock. Impossibly harder and bigger than before. More pre-cum leaking out. "You should probably tend to that in the shower."
He smirks at you, enjoying the challenge you're putting up for him. Pulling you snug up against him, he presses into you until his pre smears all over the fabric of your shirt. "I think I know a better way to tend to it," he ruts his hips up, breathy grunts leaving his lips.
"Turn around," you barely hear his voice as he whips you around.
Your tits touch the chilly smooth surface of your countertop, your ass practically presented to him in all its glory as he gently pushes your ankles apart, spreading your legs even more. You all but yelp at how fast he's manhandling you, his own neediness evident in the way he rubs his shaft along your slit. Letting your wetness drip down and lubricate his cock.
"Shit. Really couldn't wait 'til we're all fresh and cuddling up in our bed?" You whip your hair to one side, craning your neck to look at him.
He's entranced with your ass. The way the thin red and blue fabric contrasted with your skin, pathetically hiding his pretty pussy from him. His hands rove all over the soft, plush skin. Kneading and spreading your cheeks apart all the while he rubs the tip of his cock up and down your holes with that perverted glint in his eyes.
Clark looks back at you, biting his lip, "Not my fault you decided to wear this," he pulls the center of your panty before letting it go. The harsh snap of the fabric against your cunt making you jump.
He pulls your panties to the side again, thrusting the tip of his cock in. The two of you watch as he slowly feeds the rest inside, a long and deep moan leaving both of your lips when he finally bottoms out.
You feel full. You are full.
"Fuck, I've prepped you already and you're still so tight." Clark's voice comes out shaky as he pistons his hips in and out of you, barely even giving you any time to adjust. The side of your face hits the surface of the counter, high-pitched shrieks leaving your lips with each drag of his cock in your walls.
Clark watches how your walls engulf him every time he thrusts in. The way your skin bulges from where he kept his hand by your belly. He could feel each time his cock slides in and out of your tight cunt.
"Ah, shit, you feel so good. Pussy eating up every inch of my cock," he's more so talking to himself than to you, his abs clenching tightly as his own climax drew close dangerously fast.
You whimper, pressing your self even harder on the counter, doing your best to fuck your ass back onto his cock. Your own arousal getting the better of you.
Clark's hand slithers itself to your clit, running rough circles around the small nub until he feels your legs shake. Holding you up with his other arm, he thrusts even harder into you. Shifting his angle just enough to hit the spots he knew like the back of his hand, the resounding scream of his name telling him he'd just found it.
You stretch your arm back, sharp nails drawing red lines on his forearm, your entire body convulsing as the pleasure hits you from every direction. Each firm thrust of his hips made his balls smack up with your clit, both of you moaning uncontrollably.
Feeling his firm chest against your back, you could feel yourself creaming on his cock. Every time he pulled out, the sloppy sounds of wet bodies smacking against each other rang in your ear.
His hand disappears from your waist, instead it moves up your chest and to the sides of your throat, gripping it firmly as he pulls you up to press against his chest.
At that moment, you were only held up by his body pressing you firmly against the counter. His thrusts jerking your entire body up until you're basically putty in his hands.
Clark grazes the side of your cheek with his lips, his deep, guttural groans going right into your ear and down to your aching cunt. "Mhmmm feel so good. Yeah—fuck," he takes your lobe into his mouth, grazing his sharp canine on the soft skin. "Close, baby? Almost there? Can feel your cunt crying for me, creamin' on my cock."
He applies a bit more pressure on the sides of your neck, "Talk to me, beautiful. Wanna hear about your day."
You'd do that, if only your head wasn't pre-occupied with the fact that he's ramming into you so hard and fast that every word in your pretty little head is nothing but sparkles.
"You read all day?" He prompts further, desperate to hear your voice speak something that's not nghhh or so good! or clark! "C'mon, you can tell me. I know you can, beautiful. Get those pretty words out your head."
Your mouth falls open, strings of saliva dripping down from your lips. "C-Clark, I'm—ohmygod—Almost there."
"What?" He grunts, shifting his thrusts to deeper ones than quick ones. "Your day, sweets. Now." His words were punctuated with a harsh thrust, abusing your spot continuously.
"Shit it was good!" you sob out, the strength leaving your body as you fully leave yourself in his arms. "I-I...book... all day. M-me and... me and Shelby went out."
"Yeah?" Clark nuzzles his nose into your hair. His thrusts became sloppier, his fingers speeding up. "Must be—fuck, ah—tired then?"
You nod, unable to push any more words out. Your mind was fuzzy. You couldn't think straight. Definitely not with the way his big arm constricted the air flowing in and out of your lungs.
The pleasure eventually consumes you. The high-pitched scream that leaves your lips quickly swallowed by Clark as he kisses you dumb. Tongue invading your warm mouth as he spills inside of you. Already feeling the warm, thick spurts of his come leaking out of you from how much it was.
When Clark pulls away, you draw in a deep breath, practically gasping to try and get the air back into your lungs.
Both of your bodies were drenched with sweat. His cheeks were flushed, lips swollen, chest also rising and falling in labored breaths.
"Hey beautiful," he slurs, closing his eyes as a dumb smile grows on his face. Taking the hand previously wrapped around your neck and brushing your hair away from your face. A rather innocent kiss placed right on your forehead.
You feel his cock twitches inside of you when both of you lock eyes again, his soft curls grazing your cheeks.
"Clark," you call out, voice hoarse.
"Mhm?"
"I can't feel my legs."
What you receive after was a boyish chuckle from him, two strong arms wrapping around your body as he lifts you up, cock still hard inside you.
"Don't worry, beautiful," he says, taking easy steps to the stairs. Each step making his length move inside. "You're not gonna feel them anytime soon."
hearts, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! if you liked my work, you could consider commissioning / supporting me <3
a/n: (Loosely inspired by Tears by Sabrina Carpenter) This is my attempt at easing back into smut after october lol. Also, how do authors on here make a quick cute little smutty fic? Like less that 1k words, because that was the plan here and it obviously didn't go well. Please teach me your ways :(
Summary: A responsible man helping you prep for Thanksgiving shouldn't make your knees this weak…yet here you are, leaking gratitude onto your couch.
Classification and content warnings: Smut +18 | Coworkers hooking up, loverboy and whimpering!Clark, oral f!receiving, unprotected p-in-v sex with creampie, praise kink, fear of getting caught, use and malfunctioning of superhuman abilities during sex.
Word count: 3,6k
Divider by me ;)
The thing every woman swore she would do after leaving an unfulfilling relationship was, “I’ll take time to be alone and explore,” a noble declaration of independence you genuinely intended to follow, except that promise disintegrated almost immediately the second your coworker and friend, who had absolutely no business being that handsome, that thoughtful or that willing to lift heavy objects without breaking a sweat, proposed to fill something else entirely… and not metaphorically.
You were hosting a Thanksgiving dinner at your new place for the first time, and Clark…responsible, reliable and maddeningly helpful Clark…apparently decided that helping you move in, carrying boxes like they weighed nothing and building IKEA furniture with the kind of focus usually reserved for bomb defusing, had not been an adequate use of his abilities, because of course he had to go and offer to help with the décor and the cooking too, like some kind of domestic superhero sent to sabotage your commitment to emotional celibacy.
Hooking up with him hadn’t exactly been the plan when you first accepted his help all those months ago, not when he was just your coworker with soft eyes, big shoulders and a smile that could undo nations but it had happened anyway and to be entirely honest with yourself, dangerously so…it was definitely the longer end of the stick.
…Literally and figuratively.
The table was full, the turkey was in the oven, your guests were minutes away and yet you were sprawled on the couch with your dress bunched up around your hips, legs parted wide and Clark’s shoulders wedged between your thighs like you had all the time in the world.
You hadn’t asked for it this time…truthfully, you hadn’t asked the first time either. All it ever took was the thought of him, the weight of him moving around your home, the sound of his deep voice telling you “Sit back, I’ve got it,” while he chopped, stirred and prepared everything with that devastating combination of gentleness and authority. Something about the way he operated when someone knew who he really was made him…different. Less restrained and more sure of himself.
It also made him confident enough to stalk toward you with quiet intent, kneel beside the couch and roll your dress up slowly, purposefully never once breaking eye contact as if your body were the only project worth finishing tonight.
“Oh my god, uh,” your nails dug deep into the couch cushions as your back arched helplessly. Your hips moved on instinct to meet the slow, hungry strokes of Clark’s tongue as it pressed past the fabric of your soaked slit repeatedly while his nose nudged your throbbing clit each time he licked lower, the warm exhale from him just as sinful as the wet heat of his mouth. He knew your body with a frightening precision, like he’d spent months memorizing every twitch, gasp and potential point of weakness. In many ways, he had and he already knew it better than your vibrator did or even worse, better than the ex you wasted five years on.
He took his time with you, that was the dangerous part. Clark wasn’t rushed, sloppy or in any kind of hurry.
He licked you with the slow, measured patience of a man starving after days without a meal, tasting, savoring and following every pulse and throb with his mouth open and ready to swallow it all down. Your sweet slick coated his chin, dripping down in thin glistening trails he didn’t bother wiping away.
Clark was, in every sense of the word, an eater.
The sounds alone…wet, needy and obscene were enough to push you toward your climax embarrassingly fast. He kept your thighs spread with ease, thumbs hooked into warm skin as he worked and tugged his glasses off with one hand before they fogged over too much to see. He always needed to see you, he insisted on it after the first time he’d made you come, precisely thirty-five seconds after you’d claimed confidently, “Orgasms aren’t really something I do.”
But now? It was practically your hobby, in fact, it was all you could do. Before bed, when you thought of him…In the shower, while still thinking of him and now, right here on your couch with his mouth wrapped around your clit like it belonged there.
“Fuck, Clark…” you breathed out, voice already cracking as your eyes rolled back. His mouth tightened around your clit, sucking gently before dragging the softest part of you between his lips. One of his big hands slid up your stomach to cup your breast, kneading the tender flesh until your feet curled and your breath stuttered.
This was always his favorite part, watching you fall apart.
He never looked away if he could help it. He was so focused, so present in these moments that it almost felt unfair. With you, he felt fully human, grounded by the one thing he couldn’t tune out even if he tried, which happened to be the sound of your pleasure. Hell, there could’ve been a metahuman threat half a street away and he wouldn’t have noticed, because the only thing he heard was you. From the way your plush walls clenched and fluttered and the way your voice broke on a moan that vibrated straight into his skull, to the sharp inhale that meant you were right on the edge.
And God, did you clench.
So hard he could feel your orgasm building just from the way your thighs trembled around his ears. Your slick coated his tongue, warm and sweet and he mouthed at you harder, letting you trap him there as your body tightened like it was trying to keep him while beads of sweat formed along your cleavage, glistening under the soft lamp light.
He watched each droplet trace down your skin and your pulse flutter in your neck at a rhythm his own unfairly thick cock eagerly matched, straining, throbbing and already dripping into the confines of his pants as if he were the one being touched and still, he didn’t stop, not until you shattered.
He continued until the tremor running through your body ebbed and softened, licking you carefully through every last ripple of pleasure until the wave finally passed and only then did he lift his head slowly, unwilling to breathe anything that wasn’t your scent, before crawling up your body and nudging his nose into the warm crook of your neck where he finally inhaled deeply, luxuriously, in a way that made your whole spine tingle while you struggled simply to draw in a lungful of air.
“I could die between those thighs,” he exhaled against your skin, the words warm and thick with affection and hunger, “are you okay?”
You swallowed and nodded, though your head barely moved because everything in you still trembled, your hands shaky, impatient and undeniably needy, were already fumbling with his belt and then his fly, desperate to free him, desperate to feel the heavy, pulsing weight of his cock filling the space he’d left aching and empty after last week’s frantic, unforgettable encounter.
Clark was big, your own personal unfair advantage and far too humble about it, which somehow made every part of the situation even more devastating. At least this time he wasn’t shy or flustered about the dark wet spot soaking through his underwear, he couldn’t be, not when the thick, flushed head of his cock was already leaking, twitching and pulsing in the same fevered rhythm your clit still throbbed with.
He wrapped one large hand around his length, hissing through his teeth at even that slight touch, guiding himself down between your legs and pressing slowly, torturously so, inside you, stretching you so deeply and so sweetly that you threw your head back against the cushions and moaned without reservation, your body instantly gripping him hard, impossibly tight, like you were trying to swallow the whole man in one greedy pull.
It felt like fighting the tide, the way your walls fluttered and squeezed around him, already trying to drag another orgasm out of you embarrassingly fast, your body always so ready for this man…too ready and eager in a way you’d never been with anyone else. “Oh heavens,” you moaned, your hand sliding up his back as you struggled not to tear his pristine white shirt to shreds. God, he looked sinfully good above you like this, flushed, focused and slipping so carefully into you.
He was always gentle with you despite his size and strength, pushing into you with that careful, reverent pace that let you feel everything…every thick vein, ridge and obscene detail you wanted imprinted permanently inside your greedy walls. He buried his face in your neck, something intimate and startlingly tender for a casual hookup and then his arms wrapped around you…his stupidly huge and impossibly strong arms…in a full-bodied bear hug that lifted you just enough off the couch for both of you to whine pathetically right before you gasped in shock and pleasure when he finally bottomed out. That sound, that involuntary gasp, nearly unmade him entirely, he swore it was enough to ruin him like he wasn’t anything more than a man hopelessly in love with the way you said his name.
You were even wetter now, embarrassingly so, your body giving him everything it had as he rolled his hips in careful, possessive motions like he couldn’t stand the idea of leaving the warm clutch of your pussy for even a second, fucking himself into you while releasing these low, sensual moans he kept trying and failing to muffle against your skin. The noises the two of you made together were truly obscene and straight from x-movies, the kind of sounds you used to swear were exaggerated by performers until you found yourself living inside them, only to later stand in the elevator next to your eighty-four-year-old neighbor and wonder with burning humiliation if they’d heard anything through the walls and whether you should apologize or simply move countries.
“Uh yes!” you cried out as he rolled his hips up at just the right angle, the tip of his cock pressing hard into that soft, devastating spot inside you that made your whole body go electric, the spot that made it rain, something you genuinely didn’t think you could do until Clark had discovered it, apparently determined to prove your body had pages you hadn’t even read yet. He knew he shouldn’t play that dangerous game…shouldn’t target that place, tease it, circle it and worship it now but he’d been so entranced the first time it happened that now he couldn’t wait to play plumber again.
“C–Clark…behave,” you whimpered.
You couldn’t see it but Clark’s mouth curled into a wicked grin against your skin. You knew he would behave or maybe you were willing to lie to yourself and pretend he might, but the truth was he liked letting you know that he could break you open all over again if you needed him to. He groaned, fighting back the urge to give you everything all at once, though even the image of your nails digging into his back and your legs trembling around his hips was enough to bring him straight to his edge.
But luckily, you were right there too.
Your chest heaved with every helpless breath, your lips parted and trembled like your mouth was unable to decide whether it should gasp, moan or beg beg for more. Clark kissed you then, swallowing your sounds like he needed them to breathe, though the kiss was also a warning or maybe a preventative measure, because…
Your doorbell rang.
Your rolling eyes jerked to him, then snapped toward the door, wide and glassy with tears from the orgasm clawing up your spine. You met Clark’s maddeningly calm eyes. “Are you broken?! You didn’t know?!” you whisper-yelled, the words shaky, frantic and interrupted by whimpers you tried desperately to swallow, because right then, of all times, Clark decided to fuck you like the entire planet depended on it, driving into you hard and balls deep while grinding his pelvis against your swollen, sensitive clit.
“Ignore it. Focus on me,” he breathed, choosing very intentionally not to admit he was in fact unbelievably and catastrophically broken, and had been from the first time he kissed you or maybe even earlier, since the moment he walked into the office and saw you there with your small box of belongings and that devastatingly sweet smile. He hadn’t heard anyone at the door until they lifted their foot to step onto your floor but he’d be damned if he left you hanging until after the party.
You nodded, mostly because you couldn’t do anything else, think anything else or breathe anything else.
“Good girl,” he groaned and the words spilled out of him instinctively, instantly and your eyes went wide at the way they hit you…at the way your body reacted so violently and visibly, like he’d pressed a brand-new button he didn’t know you had. He felt it too and you, well, you…
“I’m gonna cum,” you gasped, absolutely certain you were about to scream the building down.
“Yeah you are,” Clark hissed as your walls tightened viciously around him. He pressed one large, steady hand over your mouth just in time to catch the scream as your legs twitched violently and your whole body writhed beneath him, your teary eyes rolling back as Clark thrust through your orgasm and then fell with you, his hips stuttering, jaw slackening and body shaking as he came harder than he ever had in his life, painting your walls white with a low, wrecked groan. His ears rang so loud he swore he’d gone deaf on his left side and he couldn’t wait for it to happen again.
He met your eyes as you both panted for breath, asking silently if he could remove his hand and trust you to stay quiet. When you nodded, he let go.
“Lois, Jimmy and Cat,” he said, still breathless, pulling out slowly while hissing again at the sensitivity and the way he was somehow still half-hard and visibly struggling, truly struggling, to tuck himself back into his slacks.
He rose to his feet so fast it almost startled you, immediately hurrying toward the bathroom with that mix of nervousness and tenderness he always tried and often failed to disguise, running the tap to wet a towel while you collapsed back into the cushions, eyes fluttering shut as a fleeting, microscopic part of you regretted ever proposing to host Thanksgiving dinner at your place for half a second before that regret melted into a blissful haze, because you had genuinely reached cloud nine. Drifting into slow, delicious thoughts about the many, many different ways he could pound you next…on the counter, over the dining table, against the wall…until Clark returned and pressed the cool, damp towel between your legs to clean you up, making you gasp in surprise at the sudden temperature against your oversensitive skin.
“Are you hurt?” he asked immediately, worry etched in every line of his voice.
You rolled your eyes. “Morally. I don’t know if that counts,” you muttered as you sat up, his quiet chuckle brushing warmly against your ears and that’s when you finally looked at him properly and your eyes widened. “Oh… shit.”
“What?” he asked, confused.
“Your hair,” you said, gesturing helplessly. “I swear I tried to not mess it up…well, no, that’s a lie.” Because the truth was that the second his tongue touched your pussy, all good intentions vanished from your mind entirely.
The doorbell rang again, making you jolt and you swatted his hand away before standing much too fast on legs that had the structural integrity of overcooked spaghetti. “I’m coming!!… I–I mean to the door…not…the other thing. Fuck!” you stuttered, mortified, as Clark caught your stumble with one big hand on your waist, chuckling softly as he bent down to place your heels neatly in front of you so you could slip your feet into them while still clamping the wet towel between your thighs with the least dignity imaginable.
“It’s not funny,” you hissed.
“No, of course not,” he said with a shit-eating grin, leaning in to kiss you quickly, just a soft little press of lips that made butterflies explode in your stomach, because kisses with him weren’t sensual so much as… devastatingly sweet and torturously tender, the kind that made your heart stutter even though you were both very much half naked and debauched just minutes earlier.
“Your glasses,” you reminded him, grabbing them from the couch and slipping them onto his face while his hands slid your dress back down over your hips, palms warm, fingers lingering and then because he was Clark, he kissed you again repeatedly, like he already dreaded the idea of being in the same room with you for hours without being allowed to touch you the way he wanted.
Still adjusting your dress mid-walk, you stepped toward the hallway and tossed the damp towel into the nearest room which was your office, slamming the door as if that would magically trap all evidence of your sins inside, then took a deep, steadying breath as you approached the front door. Just before opening it, you caught sight of yourself in the hallway mirror, frantically fixing your hair, lipstick and mascara, making sure nothing screamed ‘I was just getting railed on my couch by Superman’, and then finally opened the door.
A sudden current of air rippled through the room, barely a whisper of movement and when you looked over your shoulder, Clark was gone. Of course he was.
You forced a smile as Lois, Jimmy and Cat walked in carrying an assortment of sides and drinks.
“What’s going on with you?” Lois asked immediately, her grin widening into that investigative-reporter stare that could strip steel.
“What’s… what?” you asked, eyes going round.
“We rang twice, I called you five times…I thought you needed help with the–” Lois began.
“Oh, that!” you cut her off, waving a dismissive hand as you shut the door behind them. “Poor time management on my part, but everything’s fine and–”
“Are you seeing your ex again?” Cat accused instantly, stepping inside behind Jimmy.
“What!? No!” you laughed, though the sound came out painfully awkward. “What makes you think that?” you asked, panicking already.
Jimmy simply pointed at the bouquet of flowers Clark had brought, sitting innocently on the counter.
Cat eyed it, then eyed you. “Yeah…that and you look…”
“That’s a new guy glow,” Lois concluded, nodding confidently. “Trust me.”
“Guys, c’mon…” you rolled your eyes, trying to act offended and failing miserably.
“It has to be that guy from the third floor,” Jimmy said. “No judgment…I just hope it’s for a good time, not a long time.”
They continued chatting as they set their things down and you moved toward the dining table while pretending to listen, only to suddenly freeze because something was missing. A very important something.
With the softest, most suspicious laugh in response to whatever Lois had just said, you drifted back to the couch and tried to discreetly search for the panties Clark had removed…and found absolutely nothing.
The doorbell rang again.
“I got it!” Jimmy called, bounding toward the door as Cat poured wine for herself and Lois.
Jimmy opened the door, revealing Steve…and Clark, right beside him, looking clean, polished and absolutely not like a man who’d just had his head between your thighs. His eyes met yours instantly, reading your panic like it was printed on a poster board. You approached with tiny, stiff steps, greeted Steve, then turned to Clark with a scold ready on your tongue but before you could speak, he slipped a hand into his pocket and held up your neatly bunched panties.
Your eyes blew wide as you snatched them out of his hand. “What is wrong with you?” you whispered furiously. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice!?”
“Took you less time than I hoped for but we can talk about it when they leave,” he murmured. “You should put them on.”
“I ‘should’?” you hissed back, insulted. “If I want to go incognito the whole night, I–”
“There’s a…tear…running down your thigh,” he said calmly, eyes flicking to the exact spot beneath your dress using his x-ray vision, before he looked back up and had the audacity, the absolute NERVE, to adjust his glasses. Your mouth fell open and closed in outraged silence before he added, “I’d love to have them back when the night ends and leave with them as a parting gift. Preferably out the door this time.”
“No one asked you to fly out my window!” you whisper-yelled, storming toward your bedroom but only making it a few steps before pivoting back, pointing at him accusingly. “And stay away from my underwear drawer tonight, you thief!”
Clark watched you go, grinning to himself, then strode casually into the main room, greeting everyone like he wasn’t an absolute menace. A few minutes later, you returned with a much less forced smile and a blissfully leak-free situation.
Lois was on you immediately, handing you a glass of wine with a wicked grin. “What are you thankful for tonight?”
You took the glass, exhaled and said softly, “My very giving friends.”
Clark met your eyes across the room, subtly licking his lips as you sipped your wine, already drunk off the sweetness he could still taste from you.
It was going to be a very fun night…
A/N: If you enjoyed this story, feel free to explore the archive for more! Liking and reblogging helps others discover my writing and comments always make my day, they’re a huge encouragement for me to keep creating. Thank you so much for reading!
clark’s arms lock around your waist like steel bands and he hauls you straight off the floor, your feet kicking uselessly in the air while your hands scramble for the edge of the counter.
the kitchen tiles are cold under nothing but his bare feet and the slap of your bodies, but you don’t feel any of it because he’s already slamming back into you, thick cock stretching you open so wide your mouth drops on a shaky cry.
“did you seriously think you could get away?” his voice is low and rough against your ear, that farm-boy drawl gone dark and filthy.
sweat rolls down the carved lines of his chest and back, muscles flexing huge under your palms as he lifts and drops you onto every inch like you’re nothing but a toy for his cock. he’s taller, stronger, faster than anyone you’ve ever had, and he knows it. every thrust punches the air out of your lungs, the wet smack of his hips meeting your ass loud and obscene in the quiet room.
your legs dangle, toes barely brushing the floor before he yanks you higher and drives in again, cock so deep you swear you feel him in your stomach.
“sweet girls like you were made to be bred, y’know that?” he growls, teeth scraping your shoulder as he fucks into you a whole lot deeper, faster, the wet sound of your pussy taking him echoing off the walls. you’re dripping down his thighs already, slick running messy between you while he rearranges everything inside you with every brutal stroke.
he shifts his grip, one big hand sliding up to squeeze your tit, thumb flicking your nipple until it’s aching, the other arm banded under your ass so he can bounce you on his cock like he’s got all the time in the world. your back arches, head falling against his shoulder, and he just laughs again, low and smug, hips snapping up so sharp your vision whites out for a second.
“that’s it, baby… feel how deep i am? no running now. this cunt’s mine.”
you try to answer but it comes out a broken moan, your walls fluttering tight around the heavy length splitting you open. clark groans at the squeeze, pace turning mean, pounding up into you so hard the counter creaks under your gripping fingers.
sweat slicks your skin where you’re pressed together, his chest hot and solid against your back, cock dragging perfect over that spot inside you again and again until your thighs shake and your voice cracks on his name.
he doesn’t slow down. just keeps lifting you, dropping you, fucking you full with every thick inch while his breath fans hot against your neck. “gonna fill you up,” he promises, voice wrecked and hungry, “gonna breed this pretty pussy till it’s dripping my cum for days. you’re not going anywhere till i’m done with you.” his hand slips between your legs, fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight circles that make your whole body jerk in his hold.
the pressure builds fast, overwhelming, and when you come it’s with a sob, pussy clamping down around him so hard he curses under his breath. clark fucks you through it, relentless, hips stuttering only when his own orgasm hits. he buries himself to the hilt and stays there, pulsing hot and deep while thick ropes of cum flood you, so much it leaks out around his cock and runs down your thighs. he keeps you suspended, rocking slow and lazy now, milking every last drop into you like he really means to breed you full.
only when you’re limp and panting does he finally lower you, but he doesn’t let go, just keeps you pinned against the counter with his cock still buried inside, lips brushing your ear as he murmurs, “told you you couldn’t get away.”
