DIRTY CASH ★
househusband!clark kent x ceo!fem!reader
content: smuttt, established marriage, petnames, public seggs, fitting room seggs, oral (m!receiving), male whimpering, mommy kink, praise kink, sub!clarkkk, uncircumcised!clark bc yes, hyperspermia!!
⊹★a/n: been struggling w/writer’s block oops!
wc: 2k
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You have money. Tons of money. Like a load of money. So much money, the piles of cash would seem infinite. Naturally, it must be spent. And you have a cutie pie for a husband who you absolutely love to spoil. Especially during your monthly trips to the mall when you have the time.
Today is no different. The Metropolis Mall and its hundreds of stores, especially the luxury ones, were all yours to conquer. You enter the land of endless possibilities with Clark, arm in arm.
Clark is a very humble farm boy at heart who constantly assures you he doesn’t need all your precious gifts, though they are much appreciated. Like that one time you gifted him his first shiny, silver Rolex. He almost fell over when you revealed the hefty price.
“Oh, honey, I can’t accept this! I love it, but that’s so many zeros! How will I pay you back?” He looked up at you with those sweet eyes.
You rolled your eyes and gave him a soft peck. “Ugh, you’re adorable. You don’t repay me, sweetie, you just take whatever I buy you because you deserve it, okay? Let me take care of you.” You cupped his cheek, then slid a hand up to his curls.
Clark melted in your touch. “But I don’t think I could get you anything better than this…” he pouted as he held the box.
“Shh, all I need is this wonderful man in front of me to make me happy. You’re the best gift, Clark. You’re enough for me.”
His heart thumped at that, and he pulled you in for a deep kiss.
Now you don a black halter dress that displays some enticing cleavage, with a lush, white fur shawl over your arms. Topped off with a pair of black shades, of course. Pearl necklace glimmering under the candescent ceiling lights.
Every now and then, you enjoy looking like your net worth during your shopping sprees, even if it’s unnecessary. The countless bags your guards carry behind you each time as you two walk through the place speak for themselves.
Clark is wearing his usual getup: a white button-up paired with black slacks. His sleeves are rolled up, and his beefy biceps are on display for you.
“Let’s get you another watch!” Clark just lets himself be pulled towards the luxury jeweler. Smiling at your enthusiasm.
The jeweler happily welcomes you two in and beckons you over with a “come, come, come!” to the glass counter. He pulls out a tray of the finest watches at hand, and you watch Clark’s eyes grow wide. ‘Ugh, so cute,’ you thought.
You inch closer to the tray and eye the display before turning to Clark. “Which one do you like more, baby?”
“Um…um,” he mumbles in deep thought. Clark honestly thinks they all look divine. Although the brown leather one does grab his attention a bit more than the others. Oh, and so does the navy blue. And the black leather one paired with its intricate clock design. Goodness, it’s probably an unjustifiable price, even for a designer brand like this one.
You can see the cogs turning in his head, and let another moment pass before going for a simple solution, well, your idea of a simple solution.
You lean onto the counter and pull your shades down to look the jeweler in the eye, “you know what? I’ll take them all.” Clark’s brows furrow as he panics.
“Pleasure doing business with you.” The jeweler gives you a warm smile.
“Honey, those are a lot of watches!”
“And my baby deserves each and every one!” You cup his face and cover his face in kisses. Clark wraps his arms around you in defeat, taking in your rich affection.
From there, you hit up all kinds of stores, including the comic book store, so Clark could nerd out all he wants.
Last stop is the tuxedo boutique. You love, love, love getting Clark fitted for suits. A man can never have too many suits.
You walk in, and a trusted worker is already at your beck and call.
“Bring this year’s collection, for my husband, stat. We’ll be by the fitting rooms.” The employee curtly nods before speeding off.
Clark swallows at your stern tone and the power you command without saying much. He finds it to be the hottest thing about you, honestly. Gosh, and the way you always proudly claim him, referring to him as your “husband”. It makes him feel so giddy inside.
Clark watches you, admiring how ravishing you look in that dress. His eyes fall to your peaking breasts, wanting nothing more than to stuff his face in them while you tell him how good he is.
He slightly shakes his head, as if shaking the indecent thought away. He can’t get hard right now; he’s in public, all kinds of eyes on him.
“Come on,” you grab his hand and pull him towards the back. Oh, this was a constant thing in your marriage. You're pulling him everywhere, and he's happily obliging. His favorite navigation system. His lovely wife as his guide.
You take your usual seat on the comforting ottoman and watch as Clark tries on every suit. Making you laugh as he awkwardly models for you, as always. He just can’t take himself too seriously.
“Mhm, I like this color. That navy blue looks good on you, sweetie. Give me a spin.” You lean back on your arms and take in the view.
Clark’s cheeks turn rosy pink, but he does slow 360 for you nonetheless. “Thank you, honey.” He looks down sheepishly as the worker takes his measurements.
“That’s my handsome husband,” you say as you stand up to get a closer look at the fabric.
He really doesn’t want you coming any closer. He already has to keep his composure in front of this lady, and you look the way you do today. So good, so breathtakingly good. And you’ve been complimenting and spoiling him all evening, my gosh.
Clark gets another whiff of your perfume, Coco Chanel No. 5 to be exact, and it almost sends him off the edge. Your fingers brush against his chest and stomach, maybe on purpose, before you reach for the material.
You tug on the suit jacket a bit and share your thoughts with the worker, Angela, as he tries his hardest to act unfazed by your touch. Clark was never good at acting.
“Sorry, Angela, dear, could you please give us a minute?” She nods and quickly leaves.
Once again, it was only you and Clark, who looked as sexy as ever in his new suit. You’re both quiet. He’s starts get nervous, curious as to why you sent her away. You watch his worried expression in amusement.
“This needy, hmm? You can’t even wait until we’re in the car.”
He swallows hard as your soft, velvety cadence sends shivers down his spine. He doesn’t respond, too ashamed of his growing bulge.
You cup his erection, and he jerks a little, “answer me, Clark. Are you so impatient that you don’t even have the decency to wait until we leave this place?”
He rapidly shakes his head before you hook a finger underneath his chin.
“Use your words, love.”
“I-I’m having trouble controlling myself.” He explains, all flustered.
“Well, I can see that.” You smirk and feel him up even more. A small whimper escapes from his lips, spurring you further on. “Poor Angela is just trying to fit you for a suit, and instead of standing here like a good boy, all you can do is think with your dick?” You purr.
“Please, honey, all I can think about is you,” he whines as you grip him tighter.
“Fitting room now.” One command and like an obedient dog, he follows without hesitation.
When you push past the curtains, Clark is already on his knees. Ready to beg for your forgiveness, the best way he knows how.
You look down at him and scoff as you poke his knee with your heel. “Get up, nobody told you to get on your knees like that.”
And he’s up again, but unsure of what to do.
You shrug your shawl off before lightly pushing him against the wall, with your hand on his chest. Without ever breaking eye contact, you slide your hand down as you lower yourself before him, before his fat bulge.
“Now, you’re gonna stand here while I suck your pretty little cock without making a sound, or else you’ll embarrass both of us, especially yourself. Do I make myself clear?”
“Y-yes, ma’am.” He manages to say when you unbuckle his new Louis V belt, and pull off his pants and tightie whities down in one go, freeing his aching cock from its previous confines.
It’s so big, heavy, and uncut in your grip. Clark inhales when you rub his shaft while looking up at him with those dark eyes. You push the foreskin back, the sudden motion revealing the head of his cock already leaking with pre-cum.
“Oh, gosh…” he moans as you teasingly lick and kiss his wet slit. “My goodness…” You lick a dangerously slow stripe up his length, and he faintly whimpers again. Music to your ears.
“Not so loud, baby,” smooch, “the customers can,” smooch, “hear you,” another smooch on his serious girth.
“R-right, I’m sorry, mommy, I’ll be qui—oh, my gosh!” He shudders as you wrap your plush lips around him. You take him further into your warm mouth and suck him with every intention of making him break. It was fun to watch him trying his hardest to contain himself. Him biting his lips to suppress his moans, his furrowed brows, and red face in utter ecstasy as you suck him dry.
Clark’s shaking hand hovers over your head, hesitant. He gently places his hand on your hair for stability, and it moves as you bob your head even more, swirling your tongue over his girth.
"Mommy, I-I don't think I'm gonna last..." He pants. You ignore him and go down further, fully deep throating his fat cock. With your free hand, you fondle his balls, and Clark can't help but let out a loud, pitchy moan.
He cups his mouth instantly, scared that he might have alerted someone. The sensations are too much for him. Heck, even the sinful, wet sounds of you slobbing on his dick are driving him mad. He's overwhelmed, and his whimpers keep getting louder. Clark prays for your sake, and his, that nobody has noticed anything yet.
But when you squeeze his balls tighter and hollow your cheeks, it's the last straw. Clark tenses as he spills his hot, white, creamy load into your mouth. And it's heavy, almost non-stop. He's embarrassed and mumbles all kinds of nonsense about how much he loves you and how sorry he is. He has no idea why he produces so much of it; maybe it's a Kryptonian thing.
You don't mind, though, and try to swallow as much as you can before it inevitably flows out of your mouth.
You slowly slide your head back as he catches his breath. There are drips of cum on the corners of your lips, and you chuckle when you feel them. There's some on your dress too. Oh well, you can take it to the cleaners. You lick your lips, and Clark has to avert his eyes, or else he'll be hard in no time. The power you have over him is ridiculous.
"Haven't even bought the suit and I already have to get it dry-cleaned." You joke as you shake your head, nodding at the cum stain on his pants.
"I'm sorry, hon', y'know I can't control it." He gives you that pathetic, sorry look as he helps you up.
You wave him off, "sweetheart, you could cover me in all your cum, and I wouldn't mind."
"Oh, gosh, please don't say things like that!" he whines. You just giggle and help him with his pants.
Out of nowhere, you hear fast heel-clacking near the fitting rooms.
"Mr. and Mrs. Kent? Are we alright back there?"
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