6 comments/ 9964 views/ 22 favorites Marry The Steel By: Zev95 Superman tapped gently at the glass of Lois's window, his super-hard fingernail producing a sound not unlike the cliché pebble thrown by a teenage paramour. Perhaps Lois thought that was what it was, until she remembered her apartment was thirty stories up. With the realization—fast as it was—Lois rushed out of her bedroom, robe tied over the T-shirt and panties she'd been planning to sleep in. She was a gorgeous woman—raven-haired, athletic, her tanktop clinging tightly to a body that could rival many of the goddesses Clark had known. Her lacy panties topped firm, creamy thighs and long legs, but best of all, she wore it all with a confidence that would be intimidating to a less self-assured man. To Superman, it was only endearing. She made no move to adjust her robe, considering it modesty enough to have simply thrown it on, and trusting him not to leer at the exposed flesh on display. Or, perhaps, wanting him to. "Superman," she said, her husky voice catching a little on his name, as always. "Little late for a nightcap." "I thought journalism never slept, Ms. Lane." Lois shrugged, drawing open the window. "It cat-naps." Superman politely sat himself on the windowsill, feeling a little Romeo & Juliet. "Got time for an interview?" Her pouty mouth could've been the envy of any model, but she set it in a challenging smirk that demanded to be buried in a kiss. "Would it be a long interview?" "Depends how much you can take... Ms. Lane." "Do I have time to get dressed or..." she looked down at her own perfect body, knowing—or at least hoping—the effect she had on him. "Is this alright?" "It's more than alright. But I know how you like to dress up?" Again, that smirk that dared him to try to take it off her face. More than once, someone had tried it with fists, only to find she still kept in shape from her teenage judo championships. Clark had to wonder if a kiss would be any more effective. "You're going to have to try harder than that if you want me to wear that geisha girl outfit again," she said, referring to a recent undercover assignment that Clark Kent had, awkwardly enough, been front and center for. "Ms. Lane, that's not very sensitive to our Japanese friends." "Maybe that's why the Yakuza wanted me to take it off so bad... Gimme ten minutes. I'll see if I have anything that goes with blue spandex." "Take your time. There's a forest fire in Oregon. I'd better make sure no one's in the vicinity before I let it burn itself out." Lois put her hands on her hips, 'inadvertently' drawing her robe back from her body. Her breasts, now not even slightly obscured by the robe, screamed of not wearing a bra and how chilly it could get in Metropolis at night. "And could that take a while? The fire going out?" "Ms. Lane, it could take ages." *** When he returned a half hour later, Lois had deliberately defied any expectation of dressing up. She wore the same tight tank as before—with a bra, he couldn't help but notice, and an expensive one judging by the straps ribboning her sculpted shoulders—with a set of comfortable jeans, cross-trainers at the end of the ragged legs. She was as ready for an adventure as an informal date, and Superman gave her an approving smile. He hoped it wasn't too egotistical to find it adorable, the way she swooned. The black of her bra straps, in teasing contrast to the white tanktop and its shoulder straps, fit well with the black waistband on her thong, as he saw before she tugged her jeans a little higher up her toned belly. There seemed to be a little of a dark side flowing up from her panties, to her bra, to the smoky black hair that caressed her shoulders. He didn't find it adorable, exactly, but he did quite like it. "Do you mind?" he asked, extending his hand. "My car's in the shop." "Well, if you don't have the balls to ride bitch on my hog..." Lois took his hand and when he extended his other arm, she deftly hopped upon it, trustingly putting her weight in his arms. "So what's this interview on? It hasn't been that long since we touched base, has it?" "Afraid it won't be newsworthy?" Superman replied, for a moment just savoring the heft of Lois relaxing in his arms, as bonelessly comfortable as a sleeping cat. "My readers are always interested in what a newsmaker like you has to say." "Newsmaker? Why, Ms. Lane, I do believe that's the nicest thing you've ever called me." Lois rolled her eyes heavenward. "You name the guy 'Superman' and he still goes fishing for compliments. C'mon, big boy, let's up, up, and away already." Gently, Superman exerted himself, pulling them a few inches off the ground, then leading them out the open window almost like they were being drawn by a string rather than propelled. Outside the building, he applied himself a little more, speeding them up fast enough to tousle Lois's hair and make her cling tightly to his body. Or at least to give her an excuse. He felt her hand rubbing at his chest, exploring the slightly raised contours of the S-shield on his thin but tough Kryptonian uniform. The muscles underneath were easy to feel. "So where are we going, high-pockets? The Red Room of Pain?" "Worse. Lexcorp." Lois's brow furrowed. "They've gotta change the name already." During the Eugenic Bomb crisis, Lex Luthor had finally been implicated in one of his plots, and this time the scale of his crime was too big for his billions to cover up. He was being held without bail, his lawyers fighting the charges tooth and nail, but until then, Lana Lang had taken over Lexcorp as interim CEO. "Wait, Lana? Is that who we're going to see?" Superman winked at her. Lois tried to keep her grumbling internal. She liked Lana in some ways—admired a great many things about her. She could be on her best behavior. That way, Superman would see that Lana was the one who was a stone-cold bitch. *** Within a half-mile of the L-shaped Luthor Tower, the great bay windows that shone into Lex Luthor's former office opened automatically, pulling into the walls on rollers to open up a passageway big enough for a helicopter. Lana Lang, working late, had already risen from her desk and perched herself against the wall to watch as Superman flew in. It was only when she saw who he had with him that her attitude dropped. Lana Lang was as beautiful as Lois, but chic and fashionable where Lois was more brash, rough and tumble. Unlike Lois's long and often tousled black hair, Lana's was mid-length, red, and compulsively styled. Her body was slender, toned from yoga rather than kickboxing or mountain climbing, with her clothes showing off her taste rather than her body. Still, her fashionable corporate attire—a patterned wrap blouse, red overlays on a dark fabric, and a similarly red pencil skirt—could not do much to hide her firm breasts and flat belly. And her haircut, though professional, only drew attention to her clear green eyes and the rich, sensual mouth only partially given to her by exquisitely chosen red lipstick. "Superman," Lana said gently, playing her fingers at the front closure of her blouse—Lois hoped she was regretting her lack of décolletage, especially as compared to Lois's own C-cups. "You didn't tell me you'd be bringing company." "You called ahead?" Lois asked him, trying to disguise a shrill jealousy with inquisitive reporter voice. "You have her phone number?" "Maybe I have his?" Lana needled. "Ever think of that?" "I think it's more likely you just have time to sit by the phone all day—" "That's enough!" Superman said firmly. "I wanted to have a mature conversation with both of you, but if you're not ready for that—" Lois crossed her arms. "Hold on there, blue! Don't try playing some sorta mature, dignified... guy with either of us! You've been stringing us both along!" "Yeah," Lana agreed. "I can understand letting the old girl down easy, but it's getting a little ridiculous." "Stop agreeing with me," Lois told her. "I mean, if you don't call it off with her soon, she'll never have time to find a husband. Thankfully adoption's still an option..." Lois laughed, shaking her head. "You know, I would threaten to shove my foot up your ass, but you're wound so tight it'd probably never make it." "Not with the size shoes you wear, darling." "That's what I just—" "Okay," Superman said, in a more placating voice. He leaned against the desk. "Not to be mature or dignified—" "This doesn't seem to be the right room for that," Lana sniffed at Lois. Lois clasped her hands behind her back, middle fingers raised and body turned so only Lana could see behind her. "Not to be patriarchal," Superman continued, thanking his English degree for providing him with a word which might not break the ceasefire, "but the fact is, I have been unfair to both of you. I had good intentions, but—well, it's like this. I'm sure you've heard of how my enemies, if they found out who I was—" "Would target me to get to you," Lois finished. "Target me to get to you," Lana contradicted. Lois ignored her with a posh flip of her hair, more irritated with Superman's reasoning. "That's if they can get past the MPD, Superboy, Supergirl, Steel, the Golden Guardian, Superwoman, Eradicator, Power Girl, Booster Gold, Gangbuster, Thorn, Black Lightning—" "To be fair to him," Lana said, "I don't know if we should count Gangbuster." "Why not?" "His name's Gangbuster." "Jose Delgado," Superman said, "is a very brave and selfless young man." "She's got a point," Lois said. "He doesn't have any powers. What does he do, kung-fu? Shoot people? I can do all that." "And I'm rich," Lana said. "I can hire people like Lois—she's cheap!" "I'll show you cheap, you damned—" Superman stepped in between them. "Point taken. Obviously, the two of you can take care of yourselves, even if being involved with me did put you in danger." He gave Lois the eye. "Or you put yourself in so much danger that it wouldn't make that much difference if we got married in Yankee Stadium." "Echh," Lois blanched. "The Yankees..." "But that wasn't the only consideration. The fact is, I may not be human, but I'm still only a man. And getting the attention of one woman as beautiful, as talented, and as intelligent as the pair of you would be flattering. Two is... well, I never knew quite what to do with it. I used the danger as an excuse to not make a decision, because as happy as it would make me to be with you—either of you—it would make me equally despondent to break the heart of the other one." "Why do I suddenly feel like I'm on The Bachelor?" Lois asked the air. "Probably because you're the kind of person who watches The Bachelor." Lois took a step toward Lana, almost trying to shoulder Superman out of the way before remembering that was quite impossible. "Maybe!" Lois wondered aloud. "You should break her heart before I break it for you." "Please!" Lana cried. "If Superman were going to choose anyone... and if he didn't feel so sorry for you... I think it's obvious he would go for someone graceful and refined, someone who's already shared so much with him..." "Someone who's idea of hot sex is doing it under the sheets, but with the comforter off?" Lana sneered at her. "Oh, Lois, if only you'd been there to see him go from Superboy to a Superman..." "Yeah, it's no wonder he hasn't gotten with either of us, you probably put him off sex ever since!" "Ladies, ladies, please!" Superman lifted his hands. "I keep hoping you'll work this out of your system, but it's like you have this eternal spring of bitterness and resentment!" "Got it when you went on that date with Wonder Woman," Lois said. "Ditto," Lana added. Superman closed his eyes for a moment. "What I'm trying to say is that I love both of you. It's torture that I can see how wonderful you are, you each are, but you two look at each other and all you see is some sort of enemy." "What do you expect?" Lois demanded, poking her finger dead center in Superman's S. "You're the one who let Lang keep living in this fantasy of being your high school sweetheart—" "You mean he's the one who won't admit how he feels about me, how he's always felt about me—" "Christ, of all the needy, clingy, self-absorbed..." "At least I've never tried to steal someone else's man!" "I didn't try, bitch, I've got him, and he's about to tell you to hit the road!" "Superman, this woman is delusional, please inform her that it's high time she move on from this embarrassing, simpering crush!" Superman lowered his voice—so low, in fact, that the sheer bass of it rumbled the room. "What did I just say?" he insisted. "I love both of you." "Yeah, yeah," Lois said dismissively. "You're Superman, you love everybody, we get it. But at the end of the day, who do you want to fuck? Me, or Lana Limp?" "She's right," Lana said. "For once. You can't marry both of us, so you'd better let Lois know that her cheap flirtation can never touch our deep, spiritual connection—" "Actually," Superman said, "I can marry both of you." Lois and Lana looked at each other, as if checking their reflections for the identical images of shock on either's face. "He can't be—" "Surely he can't mean—" "Even with the Evilutionist defeated," Superman said in his firmest, most serious voice, "his bomb still did its work. Ninety-nine percent of the world's population has been rendered infertile. The one percent left has to breed, and massively, or the human race will be extinct. I've talked to STARR Labs. A human-Kryptonian hybrid would be viable, and able to reproduce. And both of you are part of the One Percent Fertile. You need to find someone to bear children for. I'd like to be that person, for both of you." "You can't be serious!" Lana blurted out. "You want me—you want us—to share you?" "It's not unheard of. And it's going to be heard of a lot more. Monogamy simply can't sustain the human population. Those who are fertile must be polygamous." "How can you be so calm?" Lois demanded. "I always thought you were some kind of boy scout, but this sounds like a letter to the Penthouse forum!" "I don't plan on flying around, impregnating every woman I see like some Don Juan. This would be a traditional marriage—well, two of them, to be precise. On Krypton, it was quite common." "Well, no wonder the place blew up!" Lana cried. "Sorry..." "Listen, Supes," Lois said, "I'm a modern woman—hell, part of the reason I was so damn salty about you and Wonder Woman was that you didn't bring me along—but Lana Lang? I mean, c'mon, we can do better. Imagine you, me, and Phantom Lady." "Don't go along with this!" Lana almost screamed. "How can you be—how can you condone—where is your sisterly solidarity?" "This ain't Paradise Island, bitch. And clearly you're not interested, so I guess that means I get the rose. And you'd get that reference if you watched The Bachelor like a normal fucking person!" Lois added triumphantly. "Now Lois," Superman chided. "Give her time to come around. I know it's a shocking proposal—" "Proposal? It's an insult!" Lana stomped her kitten heels. "I don't want sex, Superman, this isn't about sex! What about being special? What about being the most important person in someone's life? I don't care if that sounds like ownership, there's simply no way I can be satisfied with a relationship, knowing that there's another woman with that same relationship to that same man! And Lois is too stupid to realize it, but she wouldn't be satisfied either with a shared man, with only half a relationship! No, Superman, it is just impossible that you can satisfy us both at the same time!" Superman presented his counterargument: he tugged at his red shorts, pulling them beneath the enormous bulge in his blue suit, the hidden zipper of his fly strained to the breaking point. He pulled it down, freeing his aching cock. Startled, Lana stumbled back, eyes wide open in shock, while Lois barely held back a gasp. It was so massive, it seemed impossible that such a monument could move, yet it did, quivering as if with a life of its own. Lois actually took an involuntary step forward, her attention riveted to his groin, drawn to the massive presence that, like any cosmic body, seemed to have its own gravitational pull. "Oh... my..." "CLARK!" Lana cried, her eyes still full of amazement. "What?" Lois asked, acting on pure journalistic instinct as she continued looking at, and thinking of, Superman's namesake. "That's Clark's... that's Clark!" "Are you sure?" Lois asked, now thinking to keep her hands at her sides, where they could not reach out and assure her that such a thing was real and as fantastic as she'd ever dreamed—just as big and strong as befitted Superman's god-like frame—perhaps even a little more so... "I'm hardly going to forget a thing like that, now am I!" Lana screamed. Lois shook her head as best she could without taking her eyes off the cock, as if afraid it were a mirage that would disappear if she looked away. "No wonder you've been stalking him since high school. If I'd ridden that thing, I'd be a creepy weirdo too!" "I am not a—stop staring at it!" Lana cried. "No," Lois said simply. "I was going to tell you," Clark said. "But I honestly wanted to see how the marriage proposal went over first." "That's fair," Lois said absently. "So how do marriages work on Krypton?" "Lois, this is degrading! It's insulting!" Superman spoke over her. "All it would take to be considered legitimate is for us both to state our intent. A more elaborate ceremony can follow, of course, to celebrate the occasion, but all that really matters is that we want to." "I want to," Lois nodded. "I really, really want to." "And we'd have to consummate the marriage. Naturally." "Naturally." "Lois, you are setting back feminism by fifty years!" Lois cocked her head. "And how long after we're married would it take to consummate the marriage?" "Well, it depends. In Lurvan, the marriage is considered consummated after the initial penetration. That can take place immediately." "Immediately..." Lois shuddered. "But in Urrika, the marriage isn't considered consummated until the male's final orgasm. That can take considerably longer." Lois shuddered harder. "Longer?" "Considerably." Superman looked deep in her eyes, his blazing blue eyes the only things that could distract her from his rampant erection. "I want to marry you, Lois." Lois nodded. "I wanna marry you so hard." She surrendered to her desires, completely and hungrily, diving into a desperate kiss and grabbing his cock, both to caress it and to ensure it couldn't disappear on her, though her hand seemed at first utterly inadequate to handle such an imposing length. It was pried loose, never able to completely wrap around his girth, as Clark picked Lois up and let her wrap her legs around his waist. She was delighted to find his righting erection pressing flush between her buttocks. "We'll give Lana some time to think it over," Clark said. "Lots of time," Lois agreed, when she wasn't kissing him. "Your place or mine?" Clark asked, his rising cock actually lifting Lois a few inches as he grew harder. "Neither. Here. Now." Lois smiled. "The roof?" "Yes, ma'am." Lana watched them go, still agape at how they had so flagrantly—so openly—how Lois had allowed herself to be seduced so completely... And had she said Phantom Lady? Lois and Clark and Phantom Lady? Lana ran for the elevator, leaving her heels far behind. Marry The Steel Ch. 02 Mercy Graves had had a long day. She was still chairwoman of the board, able to push against CEO Lana Lang and the majority shareholder, Contessa Erica Alexanda Del Portenza, but her position lacked the strength Lex had possessed. Now Lang wanted to turn them into some kind of charity, shut down the weapons division, start building affordable housing, while the Contessa was a downright corporate raider, wanting to strip-mine Lexcorp for quick cash to furnish her own holdings. Mercy was the only one trying to hold things together for when Lex got out. And he would get out. It was more than loyalty. It was safety and security. She and Lex were alike creatures, survivors who knifed through a hypocritical world. Keeping Lexcorp in stasis for Lex to retake the throne would allow him to watch her back, just as the services she provided watched his in so many ways. They had a mutually beneficial arrangement, united by sheer logic and self-interest. An alliance far deeper, far more meaningful, than any marriage. But—sentimentally enough—she missed the sex. The last time they'd been together, Lex had teased her, played with her, sucked her cunt, but left her with only one dirty little orgasm to tide her over, keeping all the real pleasure for himself. Mercy had known her turn was coming, but then all the business with the Eugenic Bomb—Lex's arrest—she had barely even seen him since. The day had been long and hard, countering all of Lang and the Contessa's moves, trying to keep up a stalemate with two ruthless opponents. As soon as business hours were over, Mercy went to her small gym, running on the treadmill until the pitiless machinery of her body had worked out all the frustration. She'd fallen into the habit of being able to train herself. Not a bad habit, but a habit nonetheless. Her body was used to it, punished her for not supplying it. Now effectively wrung out, at least as well as she could be under the circumstances, Mercy went to the bathroom. Her executive suite was on the same floor as Lex's, neighboring it, allowing her to attend to him without anyone being the wiser. Many times, he'd stepped through the concealed passageway into her shower and had her without warning, the surprise always bracing, thrilling. Showering without him could only make her feel a little better. She took it cold, the first rush of water almost bringing a gasp from her. Mercy stood under it until her body was numb, her restless senses dulled. She had a busy day tomorrow. She had to get to sleep quickly, revitalize herself as best she could for the next day. She got out of the shower, her body covered with gooseflesh. She toweled herself off, putting on a white bra, trim white panties. Then she covered herself with a white slip, the neckline high, the hemline just above her knees, just in case she was awoken by new business. Sitting before the mirror in her well-appointed lavatory, she brushed out her hair, then wrapped it in a silk scarf for bed. She thought of nothing but the appointments she would have the next day. She absolutely refused to think about Lex's hands on her breasts, fitting there more intimately than her bra ever could, or his tongue between her legs, pleasing her beyond description. She blotted out the vivid visuals of the mirror above Lex's bed, and tried very hard not to think of how good it had felt to have a strong body on top of her. She stepped into a pale of slippers, pulled on a monogrammed robe—a distant Christmas present from Lex—and headed for the small bedroom she'd used while Lex was entertaining other company. Now that Lang had taken over Lex's offices, it was her new home. If anyone had seen her—hair neatly arranged, make-up thoroughly removed, resting bitch face properly businesslike—they could almost have taken her as ready to go to work instead of leaving it. Then: "Oh! OH! OHHHHH!" The sounds were obviously sexual in nature, feminine—orgasmic. Mercy automatically strained her hearing, detecting the urgent grunting of a male hard at work. Lang, you slut, she thought to herself. The noise was coming from Lana's office—Lex's office. Mercy decided to err on the side of curiosity. Whatever she discovered could prove very useful. Opening the passage between her suite and Lex's, Mercy slipped into the crawlspace, the growing sounds pulling her in like a moth to the flame. In a few steps, she found the louvered walls that Lang still thought were only aesthetic. Mercy pulled the cord a little, opening the slats just enough to see through. Then the cord slipped from her hand as she teetered on suddenly wobbling legs. Leaning on the wall to support herself, she drew her phone from the pocket of her robe and began to record. *** Lana held her legs wantonly open, fully displaying her dripping cunt and the damply matted hair that surrounded it. The muscles of her thighs were tensing and flexing repeatedly, as if in preparation. Lois's eyes shot past them, glued to her lewdly exposed pussy as she crawled between Lana's outspread legs. "Never been eaten out by a woman before..." Lana exclaimed, flesh goosepimpling with anticipation. "Yeah, right," Lois muttered. "Even if she has," Clark remarked, patting Lois reproachfully on the head, "I'm sure being licked by you will be like the first time." "Amateur hour, you mean?" Lana replied sweetly. Clark swatted her ass. "Move a second," he said, holding up a pillow with his other hand. "It'll feel better if you're sitting on this." Hotly flushed, somewhat because of the chiding little smack, Lana arched her back to let Clark put the pillow under her. Her ass, still a bright rose from how Clark's loins had smacked against it as he sodomized her, glowed prettily with the pillow to prop it up, put it on display. Lois stared, shamefaced but more excited than ever. Unwillingly, her eyes darted to Clark, as if to ask how he could possibly approve of this. Wasn't she cheating on him, sort of, with Lana? But Clark just nodded, with the firm relish of the good that she'd always admired in Superman. With his permission to give into her licentious urges, Lois lowered her head. Her tongue skimmed out from between her lips, seeking the pungent feminine aroma that was assailing her nostrils, finding the taste of it in the feminine dew that ran from Lana's cunt. Drawn in, drinking of Lana's charms with all her senses, Lois placed a moist kiss squarely between Lana's thighs. Lana gasped, her mouth forming a total circle. "Shit! That feels good!" "Language, Lana," Clark tutted, smiling ironically, and Lois jerked her head up as well. "And don't act so surprised!" she added, part of her pleased to put a stop to this strange interlude that seemed incestuous in a way. She and Lana had related to each other as enemies for so long that to suddenly share Clark—share each other—seemed like a betrayal of their relationship. Or like the bottom had dropped out of it, letting them fall into the underpinnings that had always been there. The latter, Lois decided, as Clark brushed some hair back out of her face. Part of what had made Lana such a friendly rival was that she was such a damn catch, Lois couldn't help but think Superman—or Clark—would be well-served with her as a wife. It made even her feel inadequate, competing with such a success. Now, giving in to their mutual desire, that inadequacy disappeared so fast, it left a howling vacuum. Lust rushed in to fill it. Looking up thankfully to Clark for fixing her hair—for arranging this, in his astonishing wisdom—she extended her warm pink tongue, worked it into Lana's equally pink slit, the two seeming to merge into one glowing color. Lana giggled, almost with relief, squirming her little ass around happily as she was tantalized. Clark watched with both happiness for his friends, his wives—and quiet, intent lust. The two women, so different, were quite the same in their willingness to get what they wanted. Sex made them the same wild animal, and he enjoyed the sudden common ground, female tongue meeting female sex, both hungrily embracing the other. *** Despite her cold shower, Mercy was feeling warm. Her sex was heated in a sudden sunburst, making her feel hunger, sexual, ready to fuck. It'd been a long time since Lex had gone to prison. *** Blushing despite herself, embarrassed despite herself, Lois found herself enjoying her submissiveness even more. She'd always wanted a man who wouldn't quite let her run roughshod over him. A woman was good too. Even untouched, her body trembled and quivered as she probed her tongue between Lana's labia lips, at first sampling the delicious fruit, then wholeheartedly devouring it, using her fingers to spread the oh-so-willing gates and puckering her lips and slipping them neatly upon Lana's cunt. Lana's quivering little clit was soon caught in the perfect oval of her lips; Lana felt it being sucked into Lois's mouth. "Oh! Oh! That's how I want my pussy eaten! Oh, wow! I can just feel your mouth all around my clit—your tongue—I can feel everything—oh, Clark, you can't imagine...!" "Then show me," Clark said, a polite command as his cock ached in stiff torture, watching the obscene beauty of their engagement. He climbed upon the bed, kneeling beside Lana's head, his cock pointing itself squarely at her mouth. All she had to do was turn her head and... "And show Lois what a good cocksucker you are. I'm sure she'd be interested in a little friendly competition." "I can suck the chrome off a trailer hitch!" Lois bragged. "But let the old lady go first. No reason to embarrass her..." Lana swallowed hard—this was turning into an orgy. "You want me to—in front of Lois—while she—?" "Hey, Smallville, if she wants to be a prude, might as well treat her like a prude," Lois suggested from her unique vantage point. "Why don't you give her a spanking for being such a naughty girl?" "You'd enjoy it too much!" Lana shot at her. "One of us would..." "Lois!" Clark said chidingly. "There's no need to be rude. Not when your mouth could be doing so many other things..." Flushing at Clark's seamless dominion of her—God, she loved finally having Superman use her, take her up on all the offers, all the flirting—Lois bent down to teach Lana once and for all who was better in bed, with male or with female. Instantly, Lana was writhing and squirming, her movements almost deliberately provocative as she bit her lip, opened her mouth to take in breaths so deep they jostled her tits, then bit her lip even harder. Lois was tormenting her clitoris into a frenzy of pleasure, was ravenous for her cream. Lana pumped and thrust her hips, her whole body, like a bucking bronco, only held down by Clark's firm hands. Her long, flawless legs wrapped around Lois's neck in a tight coil, never wanting to release the source of such debased pleasure. "Eat me!" she demanded, used to being obeyed. "Suck me! Eat my pussy and suck my pussy and oh, God, my poor clit! It's going to explode! Suck it, suck it! Only a girl could suck me like this!" "Ha!" Lois cried out. "Lezbo—I fucking knew it." "I was experimenting!" Lana retorted. "I do believe the experiment was a success," Lois re-retorted, before her lips were completely covered by Lana's folds, even her nose partly buried in the juicy pink. The sound of her mouth at work was all too loud, her cheeks almost meeting inside her mouth as she drank in Lana's liquid pleasure. Lana's pelvis jerked back and forth with the tongue inside it, quick movements that shook her hips right off the bed. "You do seem a little uninterested in men," Clark taunted, hands on his hips, his cock still ignored despite being right in Lana's face. "Well, I could use something to distract me from 'amateur hour,'" Lana needled, before reaching up to cup Clark's enormous balls in either hand. Keenly aware that Lois was watching, her face blushing crimson, Lana put her small pink tongue all over the swollen, heavy orbs. She was deliciously ashamed of herself as she made them glisten with her saliva, coarse black hair matted to the wrinkled skin by all the spit she had applied. "Enjoying the floor show, Lois?" Clark asked, knowing the teasing made Lana burn even hotter. "Sure am!" Lois replied brightly, still rubbing her tongue over Lana's sex. "Just don't forget the main event..." Mercy certainly wasn't. *** Mercy took off her robe, letting it fall to the floor. It was getting warm. Too goddamn warm. In a way, she felt jealous of Lang. She'd never expected Lang to be a saint, to devote herself wholeheartedly to Lexcorp as she had, leaving no time for more tawdry pleasures. Now that little idiot was getting the sex Mercy should've been having, eaten out, sucking cock, while Mercy could only watch. And it was only fair that she should watch. Enjoy at least this... insane excitement from spying on the three of them, even if she couldn't join in. She deserved it. Besides, Mercy didn't think she could help herself. *** In and out, Lois fucked Lana's cunt with a stiff tongue, her victim's juices flooding her mouth, Lois moaning as she eagerly gulped them down. It might just have been the only thing sweet about Lana, she thought. All the muscles in Lana's body were tense now, trembling. She squeezed her thighs down hard on Lois's head, crushing her ears to her skull so all Lois could hear was the beating of her racing heart and the distant echo of her tongue crawling through Lana's hungry cunt. Lana suddenly needed something to do with her mouth besides shouting how much she loved Lois's tongues, how it was making her feel so fucking good, how she could feel the little ripples of lesbian sex rolling up and down her spine, all the way from the tips of her toes to the base of her skull. She sucked one of Clark's massive balls into her mouth, holding it there lovingly, sucking and tonguing like it was hard candy. With the embarrassment of having to be so obscene in front of an onlooker, her friend and rival Lois (and Lana didn't know which of those designations was worse—more exciting), Lana was becoming unspeakably aroused. Her heavy breasts rose and fell with deep breaths, her skin reddened, her whole body burned on the point of frenzy. She nearly gagged herself giving Clark's other testicle the same treat as the first, working it between her full lips, sucking on it and flicking it with her desperate tongue. "Mmmmmm!" Lana moaned, slurping her way off it. "Strong flavor, Clark! I love that tang, how damn masculine they taste." She kissed his balls, pressing them against the inside of his thigh with her lips, then puckering them to give a little suckle. He groaned and Lana darted a quick glance down the bed, pleased to see Lois was watching jealously. The brunette shoved the full length of her tongue into Lana's cunt, groaning with one-upmanship when she felt her rival's inner muscles clenching against her tongue. Her own pussy was growing wet, but Lois ignored it. She wanted to get Lana off. In her mind, she'd made this a contest to see who was better suited for Clark. And it looked like she would be getting Lana off long before Clark got off. The same thought struck Lana, the two women having far more in common than they would ever admit. Gripping Clark's prick at the base—her small hand dwarfed by its massive heft—Lana slipped the head into her warm, welcoming mouth. Lois eagerly watched the performance, Lana looking like she was trying to wear down the huge organ, defeat it with her combination of manual stroking and oral caresses. Sucking and tonguing the sleek head, continually pulling and stroking with her warm hand, it seemed impossible that any man could resist coming. But Clark's erection refused to be eroded. It only seemed to get bigger and harder inside of Lana's mouth. "That's a good start," Clark praised, the compliment making Lana feel shockingly warm. "Now let's see if you can get it into your throat." *** Mercy couldn't take her eyes off Lang as she noisily sucked Clark's manhood. She felt the warm liquid marshalling in her cunt, its slow trickle down her inner thighs. She was desperately trying to remember what it'd been like, the last time she'd sucked a big cock like that. She still couldn't remember as she stripped off her slip, but at least she felt better, not being covered in all that damn sweat. *** Lana was so determined to please Clark that, when Lois licked her cunt again, jarring her back into awareness of her own building orgasm, it came as a shock. As if for the first time, she realized she was being watched. She blushed deeply around the mouthful of hard, pounding cock Clark had gifted her. He pushed at her narrowing mouth, hands at his flanks to steady himself as he relentlessly filled her mouth with a kind of determined politeness. The thick, throbbing lance made Lana wiggle with excitement, her mouth watering but her saliva matched, even outdone by the fragrant juices that smeared Lois's face, trickling upon her inner thighs. "Well, someone likes cock. Bit of a surprise, given how much she likes my tongue," Lois remarked, watching her frenemy accept more and more of Clark's shaft into her ovaled mouth. "Guess she's either a bisexual or just really skanky..." "Ignore her," Clark told Lana. "See if you can make it disappear." Lana's groan told him it was impossible. Occasionally swallowing her rapidly flowing saliva, trying not to let it trickle from the corners of her mouth, Lana worked herself forward onto the solid, pounding meat, both her new lovers watching intently as its bulk was accepted between her outstretched lips. Clark sighed, feeling his crown against the roof of her mouth, scraping through on its way to her throat. Lana's half-strangled gasp said she couldn't take anymore. "Well!" Lois exclaimed, admiration mixed with envy in her voice as she looked at the shaft protruding from Lana's stretched lips and calculated how many inches she'd managed. "I can't believe she got it that far down her throat! She's talented, I'll give her that!" "Give her more," Clark instructed. Lois looked down at Lana's clit, hard and red and throbbing, and licked her lips hungrily. She could feel that wet cream cooling on her face. Mercurial as always, she decided to forego the competition. Now she wanted to see how long she could keep Lana at the very edge of ecstasy, build the tension up to the absolute limit and keep her there, in sexual agony, for as long as possible. Then make her come so damn hard. Lois liked the idea of making Lana come. She moved her tongue over Lana's sex, letting its sides stroke the edges of Lana's clit, the tip of her tongue play over its length, but never making direct contact. Not yet. Just as the clit seemed painfully erect, Lois dropped down, flicking her tongue-tip up and down the lips of Lana's cunt, then sucking on those tempting folds for just an instant, sending a solid tremor through the redhead. Seeking to distract herself from Lois's tonguing, Lana began moving her head up and down on Clark's dick with deliciously long, sweet suckling. Both Lois and Clark watched with fascination as her flaming red hair bobbed up and down on his lap, her similarly crimson face straining with the effort to handle so much hard cock. Lana was breathing raggedly now, catching her nipples between thumbs and forefingers, pinching them lightly at first, then increasing the pressure until she began to feel a little pain mixed in with the pleasure of the caresses. She twisted her head to one side, allowing Clark's bulging erection to press outward against the succulent softness of her cheek, letting Lois see just how much cock was hers, all hers. "Yeah, that's it," Clark panted, petting Lana's head gently in appreciation. "Show Lois what a good little cocksucker you are." Marry The Steel Ch. 02 The warmth of the praise mixed with the vulgarity of the curse word, making Lana blush deeper than she'd have thought possible, blush all the way to her core, all of her heating like the bed was a skillet and she was finally starting to melt. Her full pinks lips moved up and down Clark's hotly throbbing prick, taking more, still more— But Lana couldn't ignore how Lois was fingering her cunt in the best way imaginable, sucking on her lovely, swollen clit as hard as she could. Fucking dead-tree media bitch—really making me wet! In the safety of her own mind, she vented as loud as she could, safely gagged by Clark's prick steadily moving through her mouth. Fuck me with your fingers, you bitch, suck my clit! Bite it! Harder, yes, DAMN! Lana began to scream into her 'gag,' letting out muffled obscenities that were more thoughts than words as Lana nipped her clit harder. Oh, you damn whore, am I ever going to get even with you for this! Sweet Jesus, a little more! Just a little more! Then I'll fuck you, oh you beautiful bitch, I'll fuck you so good!!! Her hands flew from her breasts, grabbing Lois's raven locks again, trying to force her mouth more firmly to Lana's sex. Lois stubbornly resisted, enjoying how Lana had no power over her—all those hours of weightlifting proving pretty useful. "No, honey, not yet," Lois whispered to Lana's pussy, as if soothing it. She knew that as much as Lana might hate her for not making her come when she needed to so bad, she would thank Lois later. And in the meantime, it would be funny as hell. *** Mercy took off the scarf, letting her hair fall unbound down her back, and wrenched her bra off before it could further irritate her painfully swollen nipples. She'd have to take her panties off next. They were just getting so goddamn wet— *** Again, Lois worked her stiffened tongue into Lana's inner folds, its tip moving deep into Lana's clasping portal. Then Lois licked it out, barely leaving before fucking it back in with a deep, rapid stroke. "God!" Lana moaned around the cock in her mouth, the word coming out understandably garbled. She clutched painfully at her own breasts once more, swallowing the mixture of saliva and precum that threatened to fill her mouth. There was an audible gulp. Encouraged by Clark's hand restfully petting her hair, Lana kept giving her hot, eager mouth to him, rhythmic motions of her head matching the subtle stirrings of his hips as he seemed to finesse his cock deeper and deeper into Lana's mouth. Her cheeks fell inward with suction, her tongue flicked and stabbed as if trying to hold the intruder at bay, but she just kept taking more. Clark pushed deeper and Lana suddenly had an overwhelming urge to swallow. She did, gulping down, feeling her gullet impaled, a sudden presence in the back of her throat. He was in her, God! She was deep-throating him! "Take it," Clark said, holding her head firmly in place as he fed himself to her, so calm, so confident, his eyes half-closed in pleasured acknowledgment of her skill. Lana's mouth felt suddenly dry. She swallowed, again, again, felt like she was dry-swallowing pills. This huge mass in her throat, forcing her to breathe through her nose. She sucked at it, not hard candy anymore, but sex, a sexual creature, a demand, a domination of her body craving her servitude. She pulled at it with her lips, as hard as she could, knowing it would go deeper still—the cum it gave her would go all the way down to her belly. She would swallow Superman's seed. She darted a quick look over to Lois—part of her wanting to know if the reporter was enjoying the show. Lois offered her a smile in return. "Do you like big cock, Lana? You like taking big cocks all the way down your throat?" Then she mercilessly tongue-fucked Lana, desperate noises welling up from within Lana's chest. She loved it. Being throated. Being eaten out by a woman. She experienced a thrill that was downright masochistic at having someone witnessing her sexual subjugation, her surrender to this decadence so complete that it was almost embarrassing. God help her, she was going to come. Lois knew Lana could not take being teased any more. And for some reason, she didn't want to, no matter how fun it would be to make Lana truly fraught with need. She pulled her tongue out of the redhead, placing its cream-wet tip directly on Lana's clit, and rolled it about in a lewd little circle. Lana moaned excitedly around Clark's manhood, feeling the pressure of Lois's tongue steadily increase against her clit. Then it seemed to go supersonic, flickering back and forth across her shuddering clit, battering it savagely. The pressure inside Lana was so thick that she was literally suffering with the need to reach a climax. She could hardly stand the tightness between her legs, all the relief that was being denied her. Suddenly, Lois was kissing her clit, wet lips on the bundle of nerves like a match struck against an igniter strip. The sensation was sharp, instant, blazing bright for a moment and then unfurling deep inside her, rumbling out into her body like a gusher from a new oil well. She virtually screamed into Clark's manhood, automatically embracing him about the waist, taking the glans of his cock all the way down, headbutting the powerful muscles of his stomach—barely noticing with the thunderous, almost painful release of her orgasm. She gagged reflexively at the cock newly lodged down her throat, and the sudden tightness brought him off instantly. But Clark knew he was being watched, knew what Lois wanted to see. Exercising his phenomenal self-control, he decided to give Lois proof he was coming. Grabbing Lana by the redness of her hair, he jerked her head back until, with a lascivious slurp, her lips lost his cock and she was able to breathe again. Just in the nick of time... *** Mercy's panties fell to the floor. She couldn't deny it any longer. Her heart was racing, her pulse pounding, the palms of her hands actually throbbing. She wanted to trade places with Lana. She wanted to be the one having her face splattered with cum, jism slithering over her full lips, dripping from her nose, gurgling with insane glee as it was slapped across her lovely features. And she wanted to keep watching. She loved watching. She'd never done anything so crazy before—so kinky—but despite how unprofessional it was, she found herself wishing she had watched Lex with the Contessa or one of his other mistresses. Because watching Lana, she was sizzling with lust—squeezing her thighs together to dam up a flood... trying to get a buzz of pleasure... *** "Well, that was fun," Lois said, rising from between Lana's legs, eying her whitened face. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand like a boxer who'd just had a split lip. "Hope you enjoyed it, Clark." "That I did." He kissed her, but after a moment's enjoyment, Lois was quick to push him away. "Good," she grinned. "But that was just for starters. Now don't you dare get soft..." She bent down low to clean Clark's drained cock, moaning as she bathed it with her tongue, her licks so strong they jostled his cock back and forth with each lap. Lana watched, weakly licking her lips, barely able to raise her hands to her head and caress the cum that had immersed her features. "Nice and warm?" Lois asked solicitously. "Feel good on your skin? That's cool." She looked up at Clark. "Hope you have a lot of cum stored up—she never gets enough." "She never gets enough?" Clark asked rhetorically, as Lois stuffed his cock into her mouth. Soon he was getting another hard-on, amazing Mercy with his recuperative powers, his swelling cock spreading Lois's lips wider and wider. *** Damn them, she could hear the wetness, lewd, sucking! It inflamed her! She wanted to play with herself! She needed to play with herself! So many nights when Lex had ignored her, she'd eased her frustrations with a patented Lexcorp Pleasurer, so well-designed it was like Lex himself was fucking her with the vibrating plastic. Lex had liked her to be quiet, but on those nights, she could be as loud as she wanted... But just then, she was in Lana's office, watching her fuck those annoying Planet reporters. Surprisingly, she found herself not wanting to spoil it for Lana. The woman wasn't so bad—naïve, but not stupid. And she worked hard, unlike the Contessa. Mercy knew exactly how horny she must've been, working night and day to keep Lexcorp afloat. She could easily imagine just how much Lana needed it, Lois Lane's wet cunt, Clark Kent's big cock, the hard fast fucking they were both giving her. So she would have to be quiet. Save the whimpering and moaning and panting for the next time she masturbated. Because she would be thinking of this for some time to come. *** Lois sucked till Clark was hard as steel—harder—then released his spit-soaked cock, taking a moment to appreciate it standing at attention. Her eyes were hot and lustful, her breathing pitched. She stared at his cock a moment longer, then fell onto her back, pulling Clark on top of her. "Goodness, Ms. Lane!" Clark croaked, sounding as nebbish as a PBS presenter. "Is this what it's like for you to warm up to me?" Lois smiled at his act. "Shut up and kiss me, Smallville. It's been a week since I got off and I need either a big scoop or a big cock. And since I can't expect you to get a big scoop—" "I'll just have to supply the big cock?" Clark was interrupted for a moment by Lois kissing him. They were making out, dry-humping, his big hands caressing her body, her slender fingers lost in his awe-inspiring musculature. "But hasn't Superman, err, made love to you? I thought you were sorta his girlfriend..." Lois laughed bitterly, wrapping her legs around Clark's waist and giving him a squeeze.. "Are you kidding? He can save everyone from everything, but he can't save me from a dry pussy. The man's in love with his job. He doesn't have time for a wife." Mercy nodded. Lex had been the same way, married to his work, leaving her restless and unsatisfied. She couldn't blame Lois or Lana for getting relief with the nearest bachelor—especially when he was so well-hung. "Well, you know I can't understand a guy like that. A beautiful woman like you—or you," he added, turning to Lana, "to come home to, but they just neglect them." "Lucky for us, you're smarter than that," Lana replied, running her palm down over her cheek, licking it free of the cum it'd gathered. "Lucky for you too," Lois added. "You're gonna take good care of us." "And we'll take good care of you," Lana finished, reaching over to take hold of Clark's dick and guide him inside Lois. *** Mercy watched, clutching the cord controlling the louvers for support. Lois was on her back, dark hair beautifully tousled, spread so far across the bedspread that some of it touched Lana. Clark bent her long tanned legs at the knees, elevating them high off the bed as he crashed down on her, her large breasts pillowing under the pressure of his chest. His hips flew, big cock sliding in and out of her—balls heavily slapping against her buttocks. He was fucking the hell out of her, making her come, just as he had Lana. "Christ almighty," Mercy whimpered as her trembling hand fluttered down to her crotch, not remembering it was holding the cord. As she wished that she could trade places with Lois, as she imagined it being her flat on her back and taking a hard cock, the louvers that hid her opened fully. That was when Lois looked up and found a naked woman watching them. *** She was in her early thirties, magnificently built, her breasts large and thrusting, auburn hair falling almost to her waist. It actually took Lois a moment to recognize her as Mercy, she looked so different when she was aroused, naked—human. Lois gave her a smile. Surprising both of them, Mercy smiled back. She seemed to be pretty amused to find a threesome taking place with Lexcorp's new, good-girl CEO in the middle. Lois stuck out her tongue, flicking it lasciviously as she'd done for Lana—just a bit further away. That completed Mercy's arousal. She hated them, the thieves that had stolen Lexcorp, but if her legs weren't so limp, she would have thrown herself onto that big bed and begged to join. She looked at Clark's clenching, jerking ass between Lois's legs and was envious. But at least she had the next best thing. She reached down and ran her fingers up and down her slick slit. Lois almost squealed in excitement, watching Mercy touch herself. It was just too bad she couldn't eat that cute little pussy while she was taking Clark's nice, hard cock. She wasn't Lana Lang, for one thing. Creaming furiously, she fucked back at Clark while watching Mercy masturbate. "Oh, yeah, fuck me good!" she moaned. "Fuck me real good!" She was saying it to Clark, to get him to give it to her harder and faster, but she was also saying it to Mercy, wanting her to fantasize about them, wanting Mercy to want her. It seemed to work, Mercy's eyes going glassy with lust, her hand jerking rhythmically between her legs. If Clark had any idea that Mercy was watching them, he didn't show it. His eyes were closed in bliss; he was fucking away like his only care in the world was getting Lois off. Lois grinned wickedly at Mercy and she leered back, suddenly enjoying herself immensely. The three of them hurdled toward orgasm. "Babe, BABE, I'm almost there!" Lois panted. "Oh, am I gonna come—" That spurred Clark to fuck her harder than he'd ever fucked a human woman before, thrusting into her like a pile driver, so hard that the bed shrieked beneath her. That in turn inspired Mercy to finger her cunt at lightning speed, jaws clamped together to keep from moaning with excitement. "Take my load, Lois!" Clark gasped. "Here—it—is!" Suddenly, Lana was kissing Lois, sharing the cum she had carefully gathered into her mouth. Lois got a pretty good taste of the cum currently pumping into her, making here so excited that she came too, her cunt going into spasms around Clark's jerking cock. "Shit, yes, coming!" Lois moaned. "Unnngggghhhh!" Mercy groaned as she, too, got off. Luckily her release was drowned out by Clark's, as he powered into Lois one last time. More hot jism pumped into Lois every time their bodies met. Lois jerked her feet up and scissored them around Clark's pistoning ass, rocking her hips to meet each reaming stab of his cock, not stopping until she'd fucked him completely dry. "Ahhhh," Clark sighed, rolling off Lois's well-fucked body. She lay there, basking in her afterglow, her cunt open and white, his cock covered with glistening juices, its thickness slowly wilting under Mercy's heavy gaze. "That was great." "Yes, it was." Lois took Lana's hand. "For all of us." All three of them shivered with the aftershocks of explosive orgasm, each with their own thoughts of greater thrills to come. When Lois looked at the louvers again, they were closed and she just knew Mercy was gone. *** Mercy returned to her bathroom, having come, but weakly, frustratingly, not nearly as beautifully as Lois or Lana had. She sat down on the toilet, her head in her hands. Her fingers smelled of sex. Her phone blitzed suddenly. Mercy had been clutching it the entirely time. She looked at it to see a text message from Lois. Let Lana have Lexcorp and you can join in. Marry The Steel *** "Just so you know," Clark said, lowering Lois to the rooftop, having converted some of the gravel to warm, smooth glass with the careful application of heatvision and polar breath. "I know I should've told you. It's not that I didn't trust you. I never thought you would expose my secret or something ridiculous like that. And I absolutely hated lying to you, especially once I'd developed feelings for you—I never knew that would happen when all this started. But in a way, it's almost not my secret to keep. Even if, by some remote chance, telling you led to others finding out, that wouldn't just expose me, but Superboy, Supergirl, my friends, my parents... I should've told you sooner, I know, before all this, but honestly, with this One Percent Fertile thing, I didn't think I had any time before someone else offered you a bit more than a reporter's salary and a life of danger..." "Clark?" Lois interrupted. "Shut the fuck up and fuck me." Clark reached down between her legs, spreading her thighs apart, feeling the nervous tremble deep in her flesh that Lois tried so hard not to show. When he entered her, she stopped trembling, but started to gasp. Then she gasped again. This time, much louder. On Vathlo Island, where the marriage was considered consummated with the first orgasm, they would be husband and wife. *** As Lana rode the elevator up to the fortieth floor, she felt a quiver go through the car, like some giant had whipped the elevator cable in an attempt to test how firmly it was secured. On the fiftieth floor, she heard screams. It occurred to Lana that if she'd acted before Lois, that could be her screaming. Which was only fair. After all, she'd seen it first. *** "OH YES! FUCK THAT PUSSY! IT'S YOURS, IT'S YOURS! FUCK IT, IT'S YOURS!" Lois laid flat on her back, legs wide open, Superman savagely thrusting into her. She was completely lost in the fuck, head canted back and eyes rolling to her hair. Her jeans were down around her ankles, a pant leg pulled inside out, the whole garment clinging to her left ankle. One bra strap had fallen around her bicep, and she held one of her breasts with her right hand, squeezing it as if trying to keep it in place while her whole body bounded with Superman's strokes inside her. Her other arm was thrown around Superman's broad shoulders, hand resting in his hair, not trying to control him in the slightest, just feeling the power in him like the warmth of atomic decay in a plutonium core. Superman was both stoic and warmly affectionately, powering into her receptive pussy with strong, but measured strokes, keeping himself centered as he held her down with one hand, his other one working at her clitoris like it was a schoolyard game. His cape billowed from his attacking thrusts, whipping in the air like it was catching Lois's loud, vocal pleasure. Then Clark decided Lois was ready for more, and fed a few more inches of his massive cock into her, his cape shooting bolt upright from the force of his more protracted thrust. "SO BIG!" Lois whined, her face contorted with abject pleasure. "SO BIG! SO BIG IN MY PUSSY! OH, SHIT, I'M COMING AGAIN!" "So that's the way it is then?" Lana demanded, out of breath from her run to the roof access, wincing from the pain of crossing sharp gravel in her stocking feet, watching the pair in shocked silence as they fucked—and they really were fucking, Lois was finally getting the cock that Lana had come to think neither of them would ever receive. Superman was grunting and groaning as he plundered her body, took all the pleasure he could from her, the merest perusal of her sex driving Lois Lane out of her mind with pleasure. "You're just going to fuck, huh!?" Lana cried, her voice seeming to echo into the uncaring atmosphere of the city this high up. "He snaps his fingers and says he wants you and you're just going to spread your legs? How'd you even know you could take a cock that big!? Huh? I bet he'll want to fuck you in the ass next, and then you'll be sorry, because there's no way he can fuck that fat ass of yours without splitting it in two!" "COMING AGAIN, COMING AGAIN, OOOOH!" Just as Lois's crooning orgasm peaked, Superman broke his steady rhythm, pulling his cock all the way out of Lois. Lois could only gasp as she kept coming, body trembling with climactic energy. She rose up off the floor, pushing with her legs and back muscles, reaching with her snatch for Superman's rod. Clark let her try to regain it. He hovered an inch or two above Lois's hole, tormenting her. Lana stared incredulously at his size and hardness. It was just as she'd always dreamed, a huge monster that should've been hers alone to enjoy. "Give it back," Lois begged weakly. "It's mine... your wife's..." "You don't think it's Lana's turn?" he asked. "You know I need you two to get along." "Yes... yes..." Lois said softly. "Too much for me... enough for both of us... more than enough... we can both..." Lois broke into an unconcerned smile. "But please? Once more? Then I'll show you how nice I can be to her." Clark smiled at her, kissing her cheek and running a fond hand along her face, then driving down into her, slamming her to the rooftop and pinning her there, impaled on his deep-set cock. Lana gaped, realizing she was breathing so hard, she might as well have been coming herself. Lois was coming, just from that one thrust, growing limp, cooing as if in rejoicing for Superman's mastery over her body. "There's one more thing," Superman whispered in her ear, "that I should mention." "Yes, yes..." Lois whimpered, saying it to him, to the universe, to her life now. "On Krypton, the wife is considered consummated when not only has she made her husband orgasm, but she has drunken of it as well..." Lois smiled, full of love. "I'm thirsty, Smallville." Clark pulled out of her abruptly, presenting his cock to her flushed face. Lois closed her eyes and dropped her jaw, unable and unwilling to do anything but swallow as her face and open mouth were showered with voluminous ejaculate. Then Clark turned to face Lana, his still-erect cock swinging before him, his seed clinging wetly to its tip. With a bemused smile, he unclasped his cape, reached down, wrapped it around Lois, and hoisted her up. Her ankle emerged daintily from her little cocoon, jeans trailing away from it. "You are a Superman," Lois muttered. "And you're a Superwoman," Clark told her. "But not the only one." Lana stared at him. His cock was still out. Cum still dripped from it. Or was that precum? "There is no way in hell," Lana said, shaking with rage, "that you are fucking her and not me." Clark nodded solemnly. "We should get her inside. Find her someplace nice and warm to sleep. I think I may have shown off a little." "Shown off? You only fucked her for five minutes!" "But with my speed and vibration, that was like hours of normal sex concentrated into a few seconds." He shrugged, jostling a happy Lois. "I wanted to wrap things up quickly so you could have your turn." "So you can go longer?" Lana asked. Clark nodded. "How much longer?" "I don't know. I've never been with a woman who could keep up with me. Diana and I never actually—" "So... we could find out? Now?" "It would be very symmetrical," Clark agreed. "Having just enough for you and Lois together." "Or maybe a little more?" Lana said hopefully. *** Lois slept soundly, dreaming that she was sandwiched between Clark Kent and Superman, and they were both fucking her so hard she had to scream and scream and— Lois awoke, jerking up to take in her surroundings and condition in mere seconds. She'd been wiped off with a moist towelette, the mint scent clinging to her, her face and cleavage and tank cleaned of semen. Her pants had been removed altogether—more mintiness over her thighs, where her own juices had been warm and abundant—and a blanket had been thrown over her. She was inside, lying on one of those black leather executive couches that were supposed to be looked at but never actually sat on. And a woman was screaming. Lois rose, tossing the blanket aside before it could hamper her movement. Her good samaritan may had removed her jeans, but he'd pulled her panties up, and aside from the heated moisture of the damp spot in the front, they were enough for her. She thought, crazily, that Lana had knocked her out and grabbed Superman to keep him for herself—maybe with Kryptonite, because how else could that bitch tear a man away from Lois Lane—but then remembered. Something about Clark—Clark was Superman—saying that it was someone else's turn. Remembering fully, Lois stampeded toward the source of the screams that rang through the empty offices with their powered down monitors and shuddered windows. She couldn't stop herself. And as if her feet had minds of their own, she found herself prowling the executive suite of Lana's offices, passing empty secretary stations and intern rooms, coming to a simple-looking door that she knew to have a full bedroom, bathroom, and kitchenette inside. The door rattled and shook like Superman was fucking Lana right against it. "Now, where did you say you wanted it again?" Lois heard Clark say. "Where do you think, hubby? There. There! Ohhh, yesss—no, not there!" "Why not? Seems like a nice fit to me. Nice and tight." Lois could hear Lana grimacing. "Maybe too damn tight!" "No such thing. You can take it. You've got such a nice ass." She had to see what was happening. Drawing one of the several lockpicks she kept secured on her person, Lois tried the lock. It yielded easily, and she nudged the door open, poking her head through the crack. The bedroom struck her as clean and impersonal—black furnishings, an en suite tap, shower, and even toilet, though that was through a folding partition. Just a place for a weary executive to rest instead of making the trek back home; a status symbol more than anything else. What drew Lois's eye was the bed. The sheets had been thrown back, Lana laid out on the mattress, her clothing disassembled. The midi skirt was opened, still lying underneath her, with her panties around both ankles like a pair of manacles. Her blouse, too, had been unwrapped, and lay beneath her bra-clad torso. Her hair had been let out of its chignon, spreading across the pillow like burning embers on the black sheeting. Her red nails dug into the mattress pad. Lana's pale body stood out in striking contrast, caught between the red of her hair and her garments, and the darkness of her bedding. Together, she and Clark looked like god and goddess. Clark was on top of her. He had her legs doubled up, her knees pressing firmly into her breasts, his arms around her, holding her in position as he reached under her, fondling her buttocks, teasing her asshole with his cock. A tingle of delight surged through Lois, like getting a scoop, knowing a secret, finding out something she wasn't supposed to know—only this was more illicit, dirtier, better. She was watching two people fuck. It had a hypnotic effect, muting all fears of being caught, enhancing all her senses. She was enthralled by their closeness, quivering with anticipation of a pleasure not her own. "You like my ass?" Lana asked hopefully. After a love tap on Lana's bottom, Clark brought his hand up her body, petting her unbound hair. "Every time you wiggle that nice ass, I get hard." "Really?" "Wiggle it and see. Yeah, just like that... yeah, yeah... that nice ass of yours all around my cock, rubbing against me... yeah, I think that's where you want it..." "I... yes, I do... I doooo..." "Thought so." Lois's inquisitive mind turned to perversity with incredible ease. She felt no jealousy, only desperate questions of whether he would fuck her ass, whether he would shove it all the way in as he had with Lois, whether he would keep Lana in that position or manhandle her into another? How it would feel to have Superman moving you around, maneuvering you for his pleasure? The questions were never answered. Clark released the pressure on Lana's legs, slipped himself around, moving to her cunt and rubbing his cockhead there, in her splayed slickness. "Later. When Lois can help. You two need to learn how to work as a team." And before either of the women could question that, Clark had wrenched himself inside of Lana. All the way in. The way Lana screamed, it was obvious. This was not teasing like before. This was being taken, given over and giving herself over to her new husband, finding her place in their mutual pleasure. Lois could hear it all in her voice. She'd heard many men, many women, watched, listened, sometimes for her job, sometimes for fun. She'd learned the subtle undertones of the connoisseur, imagined what kind of grunts and groans she'd like to hear from Superman as he fucked her, known the moan she herself would make when loving the way her cunt was filled with a long, throbbing prick. The moan she had made. She knew Lana was gasping partly with need, replacing the shameful memories of all other men with this, the man she could've had, the man she belonged with, the commander of deeply lingering lust, her mate and master. She was resigning herself to the wonderful terror of having found the love of her life, steeling herself to have this pleasure be hers, to a future filled with this satisfaction, a lifetime of needing this exact fulfillment, a lifetime that would still never be enough to satisfy her. However much she had loved Clark or Superman before, now she was falling in love with being fucked by him, marrying herself to the way her body could feel in his hands, just as Lois had before her. It pissed the general's daughter right the hell off. She watched with furious eyes as Clark finally finished delivering himself to Lana, the redhead now impossibly aware of just how big he was, how deep her pleasure would go. Lana finished a shamefaced, guttural groan of impalement. Lois saw her force her eyes shut, trying to make peace with how sharp the feeling of penetration was. "Keep it there," Lana eked out, her voice breathless. "Just leave it there for a while... don't move it..." "Don't move what?" Clark asked with a wry grin, a bemused look in his eyes. "This?" Lana screamed, signaling her orgasm as if she wanted Lois to know, the bitch. Her hands flew to her face, fingers clawing powerlessly at her face and hair as she came until her voice could no longer pace her passion, and her climactic scream became soundless. Lois had read Cat Grant's column, as she read all the Planet's material to make sure it fit her own high standards. She'd known of Lana's many lovers—well-traveled playboys, white-hot actors, even a few superheroes (and more than a few other women, if Cat's gossip was right). But from the way Lana recovered her breath only to gasp weakly, from the way her body trembled as if half-afraid of the pleasures still echoing through it, Lois knew none of them had ever made her come so hard. Indeed, Lois doubted Lana even knew she could orgasm so... completely. "Shit!" Lana keened when she'd begun to recover. "Yes! Damn you, yes, that! Just leave it in... until I'm done with it..." "Done with what?" Clark persisted, now full-on smirking. "You'll have to be more specific." Again, he petted her hair, this time coming up with a sheen of sweat that had coursed off her drenched body. "Tell me what you want. Exactly." Lois shook with rage and need. It felt muggy in the office—hot and sticky, a feeling of wet warmth all over her body. Two of the most prim, proper people she knew, talking to each other like whores, getting a charge out of acting like master and slave. It was almost a game. "Your cock!" Lana barked. "Your long, hard cock with all its cum! I want it in me." She smiled darkly, remembering how precise Clark wanted her to be. "I want it in my cunt." Lois looked down, suddenly noticing her hand had wandered to her sex. Now that Lana had admitted what she wanted, Clark gave it to her, as hard as she could take it. Each determined thrust sent peals of her juices running down her body. Lana groaned with pain at the first furious invasion, but her cries quickly turned to ecstasy. Lois had taken her hand away from her cunt, but only a few inches. Now she returned it. It wasn't just how hard Clark was fucking Lana. It was that it was Lana Lang was being fucked. It didn't take Lana long to come—it didn't even take long for her to have multiple orgasms—and soon, Clark was done with her, finishing while Lana was still half-conscious. Just before he let himself shoot, he pulled himself from her cunt and shoved his cock in her face. As Lana gasped out her latest orgasm, oblivious to the world, Clark spurted all over his face. Once she realized what it was dripping into her mouth, she eagerly drank the massive load he had poured upon her. Licking her lips as she slumped to the mattress, drained of energy. "Okay, what the fuck!" Lois demanded, bursting into the room with no less drama than if she were waving a loaded gun around. "I married you first, I have seniority, I never said it was her turn! You should still be fucking me!" She glanced at Lana's spread-eagled, unclad body, trying hard not to notice the luscious pink slit in her red-haired pussy, or the tongue still working at cleaning her own face of cum. Christ, she was lapping it off the tip of her nose... Clark smiled at her. "Lois, you're just going to have to learn how to share." "She's the one who's not sharing!" Lois insisted. "She stole you in the middle of our date!" "You were unconscious," Clark pointed out. "Haven't you ever heard of spooning!?" Lois demanded, kicking the bed. Instead of replying, Clark stood up off the bed, allowing Lana to relax into a practically liquid repose. Walking to Lois, he took her tanktop by the hem and gently pulled it over her head. Lois instinctively moved to cover herself—her bra having been meant to seduce him, and exposing as much as it hid—but with his quiet, understated firmness, Clark took her hands, petting them with his thumbs, and lowered them down to her sides. When he took his hands away, Lois left her arms there, on display to both Clark and Lana. She was still trembling. She stood stiffly, unsure what to say or do, but trusting Clark bone-deep as he removed her bra as well. She was deeply embarrassed, completely unsure what was happening, but she saw how Lana's eyes widened at the size of her uncovered bust—perhaps she had believed it all to be padding or silicone, as she'd implied quite a few times—and was a little gratified with how impressed Lana was. Then Clark put his hands on her cheeks, holding her steady for a quick kiss against her forehead—Lois's lips parted helplessly, wishing it was his mouth against hers—and she turned her head, hiding her face in Clark's comforting grip as he brushed his face through her wavy black hair. "You're not looking at her," Clark said, his sheer force of personality turning Lois toward Lana's lush young body against the reporter's better judgment—or fear. "Why should I?" Lois asked, her voice too loud, too petulant, sounding shattering against Clark's deliberately quiet words. "Look at her," Clark commanded, in a soft way that brought only a willingness to please and not disappoint. Even Lois didn't want to rebel against such an voiced order. She darted an embarrassed glance at Lana: her luscious body, her perky breasts, her blood-red hair, all so endearingly primitive with her competitive fashion and holier-than-thou attitude stripped away... literally. Covered in sweat, gently indulging herself in unhurried breaths, even blushing scarlet under Lois's gaze, Lana struck her as beautiful. Something Lois had known intellectually—of course, her rival for Superman would be beautiful, as beautiful as her even—but she'd never really felt that beauty. Not the way Clark wanted her to. Marry The Steel "She's looking at you," Clark said, in his calm, confident, almost therapeutic voice. He seemed to be ushering Lois away from her anger and jealousy with nothing more than whispered words, brushing touches of his hands. She is looking at me, Lois thought excitedly. That beautiful woman is looking at me. It was invigorating. Clark knelt down before her, winding his fingers through the waistband of Lois's panties. He tugged at them with little force, barely causing the fabric to fold, and Lana watched. Lois's strong face turned bright scarlet and she averted her eyes—then looked back, registering a certain excitement in Lana when she looked at her, and a growing curiosity in how Lana's eyes traced over her breasts, her lips, her own curious eyes. Her gaze seemed as sly and subtle as Clark's hands. Now that Lois stood unafraid—grinning a little, in fact, challenging Lana with her own beauty and confidence in her sexual prowess—Clark removed her panties. Lana's face lit up, seeing the trim black hair of Lois's sex, the perfect symmetry of her loins now revealed in full, keeping with the rest of her gorgeous body. Lana squirmed girlishly on the bed, like a child on Christmas morning, and Lois smiled at how taken Lana was. "We have a custom on Krypton," Clark said, sitting beside Lana on the bed. He reached out to lovingly stroke Lana's flank, and Lois found herself wishing it was her hand feeling how smooth Lana's body was. "There's no fighting within marriage. When two partners come into conflict, they have sex. After that, the problem usually ends up resolved." "That's a good custom," Lois said. "And Lois knows a lot about eating pussy." For once, Lois took the jab without offense. "That I do..." She crawled atop the bed. Lana opened her legs. Clark closed the door and locked it. This was nothing the night watchman needed to see.