#typhoonthots

[verytyphoonfun]

Sheltered farmboy Clark hates doggy with a passion. He thinks it’s degrading to women, and he hates it because he can’t see your pretty face. He wants to see your hazy eyes after a good fuck, wants to kiss you when he cums.

But you beg and plead and even cry. He trusted you for everything else, why not this?! You even give him the silent treatment for exactly 18 minutes. That’s enough to break him.

So Clark bends you over on your bed, apologizing profusely. His mama would smack him over the head for treating his girl like this. But he can’t deny how good you look, ass perked up in the air. You wiggle impatiently too.

Clark can see everything as he nudges your lips apart with the tip, how it glistens with each pass. He can watch as he slowly presses in, your puffy pussy struggling to take every thick inch. Your cute hole back there winks back at him too.

Clark settles his hands on your waist, slowly pushing into you. You gasp at the feeling; he’s so thick and long, and this position has him in your lungs. But when you nod weakly and tell him to move, all that blurs along with your vision.

It’s perfect, the angle hitting the right spots just enough to have you keening. You push back against his every thrust, your pussy soaking everything. There’s soft little plaps as his balls smack against your clit, and each one has your breath catching. Clark shifts his angle, just to get a better seat on his knees.

“Right there!” You cry out in a strangled whimper. You can feel his tip pressing on a new spot, right against the back. You go boneless and collapse face first. “There, Clarkie!”

Your desperate whimper has Clark whimpering too,. You can feel his hands tight on your waist, bringing you back. Clark’s staring at that little frothy ring around the base of his cock, and something snaps. He goes harder, knocking each whimper out of you with a groan of his own. Clark’s hand drifts to your clit, rubbing soft circles and sending you flying into your orgasm. Usually this is when Clark would stop .

But Clark’s too entranced with how your pussy nearly refuses to let go as he pulls back. He’ll even brush a thumb over your spread folds, and come at the sight of your pussy fluttering.

Later, when you’re spent with his seed dripping outof you, Clark will fuss over you. He’ll apologize for going too hard and too long.

“Next time, pull my hair,” You mumble .

Clark turns bright red at that, and protests amidst gasps and sputters. But the twitch of his cock against his thigh means you’ll get your way once again.

[verytyphoonfun]

please more clark who hates doggy I love it!!

Despite having gotten him to fold once, Clark still prefers missionary or lotus position, anything where he sees his pretty girl’s face. He feels like an animal when he does it. Why would he treat his darling like that? Didn’t you like kissing him? Looking into his eyes when you came? Every time you suggest it, Clark gets all pouty and sad.

No, Clark wasn’t an animal. But he was a Kryptonian, and that came with its own quirks, such as sporadic periods of time where his body wanted one thing; to fuck. He’d been feeling off the whole week, off-kilter in a way that Superman couldn’t. Waking up on a Friday came with immediate pain in his stomach, and a half-terrified you fussing over him. You’d gotten Kara on the line. Maybe she could bring him to the Fortress, have the robots and stuff look him over?

“Oh, he’ll be alright.” Kara snorts. “He’s going through a rut.”

“A what now?”

“When Kryptonians find their partner, sometimes we go into ruts. Clark just needs to fuck and he’ll be fiiine.” Kara drawls.

Clark, the sweet boy that he is, is horrified at how base and animalistic that sounds. Fucking, just for the sake of it? And for him? He couldn’t.

But one well placed kiss on his jawline has Kal-El taking over. First he has you in missionary, but your legs keep getting in the way. With a growl, Kal-El shoves your legs up and over his shoulders.

"Clark- wai- oh gosh!" You squeal as he leans forward, nearly folding you in half. He doesn't slow down, thrusting hard and heavy with his balls smacking against your ass. Your pussy flutters around his shaft weakly, barely able to keep up. But even this mean mating press isn’t deep enough for Clark.

He yanks out and presses you face first into the mattress, slamming back in.

“Ah!” A cry tears out of your throat as Clark’s hips piston back and forth. You can feel each and every ridge, his veins throbving heavily. Your orgasm nearly hurts when it finally slams into you, choking his cock. Clark just groans as he grinds the tip of his cock right into your cervix, pouring his seed right into your womb.

You barely have enough time to catch your breath before Clark presses you back down. He’s not done yet.

[verytyphoonfun]

Giving sheltered farmboy!Clark his first pussy portal would make him nearly faint.

He’d nearly dropped it when you gave it to him for your one year anniversary, shocked you’d just hand it over dinner like it was a card instead of… well… that. Clark wouldn’t get the appeal. The entirety of you was much better than just your pussy. Clark liked seeing your face twisted in pleasure, watching your breasts bounce with each thrust. But one day, when you’ve gone home to family across the country for the week, he break. He couldn’t get enough time off work to go with, so he mopes around the bullpen and pouts into your pillow at night. By the fourth night he’s desperate. Clark roots through your nightstand for the little disc. It’s smooth plastic, with a twist off lid too similar to a pill bottle’s. You even had it customized with the exact blue of his Superman suit.

Clark guiltily opens the top. He half expects and hopes there’ll be nothing inside; you have to wear the panties to activate it. You probably wouldn’t risk it around your family. But instead of a blank nothingness, your pussy is inside. It’s just as he remembers, all plump folds and your pretty skin and clit. He can even smell you. Clark feels dizzy at how quickly his blood rushes down.

“Gosh…” Clark whispers. He rubs a hand down his face. He shouldn’t. This is the epitome of objectifying women, his woman, his pretty girl. He couldn’t. Clark was a gentleman. He had to respect you.

But, you’d gifted this to him. You wanted him to fuck you, to use you. You were even wearing the panties. In fact, if he didn’t use it, you’d be sad and unsatisfied. With a little groan, Clark brings it up to his mouth.

A thousand miles away, you’re out shopping at your hometown mall. You’d needed time alone from your family, and had to buy more panties. For once you’d forgotten to pack more panties and now you were wearing the pussy portal panties while you scurried around.

Suddenly, you felt a soft wetness. You have to stifle back a moan as it licks, from your now-twitching hole up to your sensitive clit.

“He’s using it-“ You think dazedly, stumbling to the nearest bathroom. Clark loses his shyness, quickly increasing his speed and firmness. His tongue swirls around your iclit just enough to make your legs weak. You make it inside just in time, just as Clark’s tongue pushes your folds apart and slips inside your hole.

You have to bite your hand as Clark’s tongue assaults your unsuspecting pussy. He’s too good, wet tongue fucking you open and lips smacking against your folds. A cross-continental kiss that has you leaning against the wall. You can even feel his nose nudging close to your clit, and his fingers slipping in. Your orgasm crests, and you sob into your hand at the force of it, at how dirty it feels to come inside a mall bathroom a thousand miles away.

Clark withdraws, and you think he’s done. But just as soon as you shakily stand, you feel him probe it gently with the blunt tip of his cock. A gasp rips from your throat as Clark pushes in. Your hole tighten, but Clark gently rubs at your clit. Slick dribbles out, just enough to guide his entry.

As Clark bottoms out, you twitch, falling on top of the toilet seat. He’s squirting precum, nudging your cervix with each twitch. Then Clark begins to thrust, hard and firm. A strangled moan escapes your throat before you can catch it. Four days without him, without sex, had made you tighten up. He felt even bigger and wider, the satisfying burn clouding your vision. Each thrust rubs perfectly against your walls, his thumb pressing onto your clit in perfect circles. You can feel every vein. It’s almost too much. The idea of Clark using you like a fucktoy, chasing his own pleasure… your cunt slicks up even more, squirting little bits of slick.

Your hand drifts down to your lower stomach, feeling the small curve of his cock through your belly. He was right there, yet you couldn’t hear him. You had to focus on just his cock, slamming into you again and again. Your walls flutter desperately as your orgasm comes rushing over you, gripping him tightly. You can almost hear Clark’s whimper as he comes. His cock jumps once more, and suddenly you’re flooded with his hot cum, each pulse sending more and more. The pressure, the twitching, everything has your sense going haywire.

He stays inside, letting himself grow soft. Your hands fumble for your phone.

“Hi baby.” Clark pants into his phone, the portal pussy still snug around him.

“I’m at the mall, you caveman.” You mumble tiredly.

Clark yanks himself out. “Oh god-“

“Stay on the line. I gotta clean myself up and get home, and then we can keep going.”

[verytyphoonfun]

More sheltered farm boy Clark because I love him <3

Clark who’s obsessed with you riding him, practically begs for it every time you guys have sex. And don’t get me wrong, you love riding him. He’s already thick and long, hitting every spot inside you with devastating accuracy. Cowgirl just emphasizes it. His bulbous tip smooches your cervix with every bounce. You can grind your clit against his stomach, and the soft friction has you twitching. But his size means you have to spread your thighs until they’re burning, until you’re whimpering from the stretch. Each bounce has you panting from effort.

Clark was raised a gentleman, taught to always treat his girl like the pearl she is. He carries the mental load of living with you. Holds your purse and any bags when you’re together, carries you if your feet hurt, even has a little list of your orders at your regular places. So of course Clark wants to help.

His hips begin moving in time with yours, helping you bounce on it. His hands move to your ass, squeezing and grasping at the flesh. He even uses a bit of that renowned super strength to help lift you. The feeling of him taking control sends your head reeling, your moans growing louder. And that sends him into a frenzy. You like it. He’s pleasing you. So his arms wrap tighter around you, and his hips move harder and fastee. Soon you’ve lost control and now Clark’s pounding into you from below, balls wet with your combined arousal as he keeps going.

He’s whimpering about wanting to help, needing to take care of his girl. You can’t reply; each knock against your cervix has you creaming his cock and your vision whiting out. You’re limp, just a wet, slick hole for him to fuck. When your orgasm hits, it’s without warning. You’re thrashing in his arms from the force of it.

[verytyphoonfun]

I can’t get best friend Clark out of my mind. He’d be the best friend ever; always helps move you between home and college and apartments, remembers your allergies, picks you up if you call him after too many drinks.

Best friend Clark who is more than a best friend, because you always end up sleeping at his place in his shirt and panties and that’s it. You’re tangled up in his sheets and his arms, half across him. Clark has a tight hold on you, one arm firmly around your waist and a hand on your ass. Sleepovers didn’t stop when you reached 12.

Best friend Clark who, when you both were ready, gladly took your virginity and let you take his. You learned everything, from ABCs to calculus, together with Clark. This is just another one of those things.

Best friend Clark who won’t fuck you when you’re drunk (“you can’t consent while drunk baby”), but he’ll let you rut against his thigh until you’re satisfied and then in the morning get you aspirin and water and cook you breakfast. And then he’d fuck you into his sheets because how dare you wear that skirt when you know it’s his favorite?

Best friend Clark who’ll help you move into your apartment or move furniture, but afterwards he needs to shower because he’s so gross. And so you both hop into the shower. It’s fine, you’ve been bathing together since babies of course. But now Clark’s feeling every lush curve of your body, and he’s sucked hickies onto your neck. Your lips are slotted together, and now he’s fucking your pussy raw until your moans bounce off the shower walls and you can barely stand.

Best friend Clark, who’s more than your best friend. But you two won’t define it beyond that, because how can someone define something so vast? He’s your Clark.

[verytyphoonfun]

Clark is a Kryptonian, so his stamina is higher. He’s always outlasted his sexual partners; they just can’t keep up with his boundless energy and nonexistent refractory period. Lana couldn’t go more than three rounds. Lois put up a valiant effort at four.

But somehow, despite being fully human, you can match Clark. You’ge had the same problem as Clark , outlasting partners. But it’s not because you’re some metahuman, you’re just borderline a nymphomaniac.

The apartment is clean and orderly. Innocent until you open the utensils drawer in the kitchen and see the condoms and wipes stash. Or find the same items in the couch cushions. And tucked under the fake fruit in the bowl on the dining room. You and Clark are so needy all the time you end up making sure there’s always supplies to wipe up the copious amounts of cum and slick and sweat.

Most mornings you and Clark go a round or two, once in bed and another in the shower. If he can, he comes home and you have another quickie during your lunch hours. And when you have a free night? Sex can go for hours and hours and hours. Clark once got 8 orgasms out of you one night. You were so incoherent Clark was scared he’d broke you. But the next morning you were still pawing at his waistband, wanting more.

It helps that sex with Clark was mindblowing, every single time. It was as if you were made to fit snugly around his cock, each vein rubbing perfectly against the sensitive walls of your pussy. Clark knew exactly how much pressure to put on your throat to get your eyes to roll back yet not hurt you. You knew just how to fondle that little ridge on his cock with your tongue to get Clark to moan your name.

There was no moment where you didn’t feel whole when you were sat on his cock, full and pretty.

[verytyphoonfun]

Clark Kent is, definitively, absolutely, the best boyfriend you’ve ever had. Keeps a mental list of your usual orders so he can pick you up food if you have a rough day. He remembers little things you say, from coworker drama to anecdotes from your childhood. He always complimets you on new makeup or a haircut or shoes, or if you stepped out of your comfort zone. He’s just a good boyfriend. The best. He prides himself on it.

So of course, as a good boyfriend, he wants to make sure you have the best day you can, every day. Sometimes he’ll get up early to get your clothes ready and breakfast made, pack your lunch. Sometimes he’ll even grab breakfast from your favorite place when he knows you need a pick me up. And they all work of course. Clark gets to see that beautiful smile and bright eyes as a reward.

But there’s one method that works the best.

Most mornings, he’ll wake up first with you in his arms, buried under the covers. He gets to watch the sunlight play across your angelic face, cheeks warm from sleep and soft lips in a little smile. He’s gotta be the best boyfriend he can be. Gotta make sure you have the best day.

So Clark reluctantly unwraps his arms and shuffles downwards under the covers. You’re both naked. Clark’s too enamored with skin to skin contact, and you’re just as needy. He nudges your legs apart just enough to accommodate his shoulders, pressing little kisses on the skin.

Clark gets to work quickly. His tongue licks a wide stripe up your cunt, flat and wet. Sleep had made you smell warm, a bit musky. Perfect. He lets out a groan as his tongue works its way into your hole. Your pussy clenches back like its saying hello, like saying it missed Clark. You let out a sleep-addled whimper as Clark’s tongue begins to move, thrusting in and out, flaring wider, licking at the gummy walls. His thumb rubs at your clit, circles in time with each thrust. He leaves your fluttering hole for a moment just to press a good morning kiss on your engorged clit, give it a few licks and sucks. The sucks have you gasping. You can feel the pull, the pleasure shaking your core.

“Clark-“ You writhe awake, but his free arm is draped like a restraint across your hips.

“No squirming…” Clark mumbles. “Gotta have my breakfast.”

You gush onto his tongue, squirts of arousal as he preps you. When he’s deemed you ready, Clark sits up enough to notch his head. Not all the way, just enough for you to feel the stretch.

“Hngh- Clark!” Your back arches off the bed, hands scrambling at his arms. You feel your pussy throb around the intrusion, a bit sore from the hurried prep. But each pulse tries to pull his cock in.

“You gonna have a good day?” Clark mumbles, pressing kisses across your face.

“Huh- uh huh-“ Your hips jut up, trying to notch him deeper.

“You’re gonna do so good on your presentation, okay?” Clark groans as his cock begins to work deeper into you, stretching you out as his head pops in. You can feel the heaviness of his cock filling you, each throbbing vein matching up deliciously with the walls of your pussy. “You did so good when we- oh, darling- practiced it, yeah?”

“But-“

Clark shakes his head firmly and bottoms out. He throws your legs around his waist. “No buts, darling. You are gonna have a great day, and I’m gonna make sure of it. Just lie there and take it.”

He begins to move. Clark knows exactly how you like it, of course. Deep, slow thrusts that have pleasure shooting up your spine and toes curling. Little plaps as precum and arousal mix in your sloppy hole until it dribbles down his heavy balls. His head nudging your cervix just enough so your breath leaves in little whines and gasps. Hands firm around your waist.

“Are you gonna have a good day?” Clark huffs again between thrusts. His hair is all messy, frizzy from sleep with curls flopping across his furrowed forehead. He has his eyes roaming over your bouncing body. “C’mon baby, tell me, you aren’t already cockdrunk?” His hand gently taps your cheek.

You blink past a hazy vision and nod. “Gonna have the best day…”

Clark grins, relieved. He puts your legs over his shoulders and leans forward to kiss you deeply, tongues intertwined in a messy dance as his hips speed up. Your legs twitch. “Good girl.”

His thrusts have the knot in your stomach tightening fast. The mating press is too much. He’s too big, cock too heavy, the pleasure having you short circuiting and gushing as you cum hard.

Later, you’ll have the best presentation of your career, with praise from your colleagues and your boss being proud. You do have the best day ever. And your puffy sore pussy leaking his cum is evidence of who helped you.

[verytyphoonfun]

Clark’s so sweet, and he’s gonna give you whatever you want. Dates to fancy restaurants? He’ll flash his Daily Planet badge, use Bruce Wayne’s name, anything to get on the list. You to go to a club? He’ll go and dance with her, carry you home after the heels get to much. A lazy Saturday? He'll make sure someone can cover his morning patrol so he can stay inside with you. A horseback ride back on the Kent farm? He's ready, tell him when. Clark's so good at treating you right. He just wants one thing in return. And recently? He's not been getting it.

After teaching Clark about the wonders of sex and the various positions, he knows to trust you. He knows that you only want what's good for both of you. But after teaching him doggy? It's all you want. Every time things get heated between the two of you, somehow it ends up with your face buried into the bed (or couch, or hay bales, or wall, or whatever). The sex is great. Perfect. Amazing. toe-curling, world shaking, has his vision whiting out still. He loves seeing the fat of your ass jiggle with each thrust, seeing the creamy ring around the base of his cock and how each pull has your pussy desperately clinging to his shaft as if it doesn't want to let go. Clark loves how desperate you get too, in this position. He's already so thick and long, veins throbbing with a fat tip that perfectly hits every spot. Doggy just makes it feel even bigger, that same drooling tip pressing wet kisses right up on your cervix. And the position is the perfect one to press his face into your neck as he rails you, smelling your perfect intoxicating scent. So Clark can't really complain.

But he misses your face. Clark misses your pretty eyes as they roll back from orgasms and his thrusts. He misses hearing your moans and screams unfiltered. Clark misses your breasts too, sucking on the pretty buds as he rearranges your insides. He misses wrapping your legs around his waist, or throwing them over his shoulders to press you into a filthy mating press. He misses everything about missionary.

Clark begins to fantasize about your orgasm face. At work. During patrol. He gets almost delirious with it, acting like it's been years when it's been two weeks at best.

You notice one night. No patrol, so you and Clark eagerly fell into bed. Clark had spent so much time between your thighs. His tongue had retraced the folds of your pussy, gently nudged its way inside. He even suckled your clit, lips soft. It felt like hours of this until Clark was finished down there. "C'mere baby." You murmur, flipping onto your stomach. You moan as Clark slides in, the familiar heft of his dick soothing the fire just a bit. As always, Clark begins with smooth little thrusts, each one nudging at your cervix. you're moaning and whimpering. But Clark's... silent. More silent than usual, at least. No whimpers from him, or deep groans. Just huffs and puffs.He was usually so vocal. "Clark?" You look back at him confused.

Clark's eyes are big and watery, and he has a little dazed pout on his lips. "I miss your face..." "What?" You say with a small laugh.

Clark pulls out and sits back, unable to hold back the sniffles. "I... I miss your orgasm face! I wanna watch you come and it's been so long since we did missionary and I feel like I haven't seen your boobs in forever, I mean, do you still have them? I love doggy and I trust you but please, please darling, can we please do missionary? I'm gonna go crazy if I can't look into your eyes., darling." Clark's little rant, paired with the watery eyes and red nose, has your heart flip. You immediately shuffle closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Aw baby... you miss me?"

Clark nods quickly.

"Why didn't you just say so?" You press soft kisses across his face. "You're allowed to want things during sex too, my love. It's not always about me. And if you want to see my face during sex, you can." "Really?" Clark murmurs. He gently nuzzles your cheek. You clamber up onto his lap. "C'mon baby. Take what you need." Clark's face brightens, and soon he has you pressed into the mattress, chest to chest. He enthusiastically pounds into you, moaning and whimpering. Clark's cupped your face with one hand. "Missed your pretty face- oh there it is- hngh- I hit the spot darling, didn't- mmfph- didn't I? Wanna watch you come on me, see your pretty eyes roll back, oh golly-"

He fumbles for your leg, bringing it up around his waist. The position has you moaning, his cock nudging right up against the spongy area against your front walls. Doggy was good, but so was missionary. And seeing Clark's euphoric face as you come, your expression right there for him to see? That was worth it.