Season 5, second half of season
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the WB and DC Comics, not to me.
Being in the shower with a naked girl isn't exactly a normal, everyday experience for Clark, and it's freaking him out. His heart is pounding and he's breathing fast, and he figures it's because he's panicking a bit. Then again, maybe he's just turned on.
He's trying to keep his eyes to himself, but Chloe's body is glistening in the steam, little droplets of water sparkling like diamonds on her skin, and it's utterly impossible for him not to look. Beneath the shimmering drops of water, her skin is pale, smooth, and perfectly unblemished, and the curves of her body are so sleek and inviting that it's all he can do to keep his hands off her.
"Chloe," he says at last. His voice jumps up an octave, and he consciously forces it back down into its normal baritone register. "I'm trying to get cleaned up here."
She smiles brightly. "I can help with that, Clark."
She picks up the bar of evergreen-scented soap, and he tries to take another step back and realizes he's trapped in the corner. He's in serious trouble here, he thinks as she moves toward him, through the spray. Her body instantly is wet all over, so that her skin looks opalescent, and his brain immediately drops into the gutter.
He struggles against his baser instincts, tries to suppress all the explicit images running through his mind. No, no, no, this is a very bad idea.
And then she begins to run the soap over his skin, and he starts to realize it's actually a pretty damn good idea.
Her hands are slick with soap and moisture, and the feel of them trailing over his skin, over the valleys and ridges of his muscles and bones, makes his breath hiss between his teeth. The fragrance of pine needles rises up around them with the steam. She's running her soapy hands over his shoulders, his chest, his arms, and it feels so good he has to struggle to hold still and not grab her.
"You feel perfectly human," she says softly, running her hands across his chest. He's glad that she thinks he feels human, that she doesn't find him strange or alien or frightening. Of course, even though she knows what he is, she's never acted like she was scared of him, or treated him as if he were less than human.
But then again, she's never run her hands all over him with reverent wonder before, looking like she's always wanted to do this but never quite dared. The expression on her face is one of awed amazement, and it makes something deep inside him grow warm and start to melt. He gives a soft groan of pleasure and hopes she can't hear it over the splashing water.
"Chloe," he says, intending to say something neutral like, I thought we were going to get some lunch, or, How about you quit kidding around and let me get finished up here? Anything to get things back to normal.
But then her hands slide down his abs, toward a part of him that is seriously interested in being touched by her slippery, gentle hands, and he drops his head back against the tiles, moaning.
"Careful there," she says, smiling up at him. "I think you cracked one of the tiles."
He thinks he did too, and a vague part of him knows he's going to have a hard time explaining that to his mom, but he doesn't much care right now. Her hands are headed in the right direction, and that's all he gives a damn about at this particular moment.
But instead of continuing their downward trajectory, her hands slide around his back, running up and down his spine, all the way up to his shoulders, then over his ribs, and then at last they slide lightly over his ass. He gives a soft grunt of surprise and jerks his hips forward, and the head of his erection nudges against the soft skin of her belly.
Heat rushes through him, and it feels so good that he can't help himself. His hands reach out and grab her hips, hauling her against him, so that his cock is pressed between their bodies.
And then he's moving against her, without the slightest conscious decision on his part to do so. His arms wrap around her waist, and he slides easily against the wet, slick skin of her belly. It feels so incredible that he has to grind his teeth together to stop himself from whimpering.
He buries his face in her wet hair, breathing in the mingled fragrances of her vanilla scent and the evergreen soap she's been using on him, and warm water cascades over them both like a tropical waterfall.
Another moan rises up out of Clark as Chloe rubs against him, all wet and soapy and slippery. Pleasure sizzles through all his nerves, making his head spin, making him dizzy. His eyes burn a little-- his heat vision acting up, as it has a tendency to do around girls-- and he clamps his eyelids shut.
He feels her body sliding downward, and then she's moving away from him. He reaches for her, murmuring a complaint, but his grasping hands fail to capture her. He manages to drag his eyes open again without setting the shower curtain on fire, and sees her kneeling at his feet.
Her hand wraps around his erection and pulls it down a bit, and then he sees her tongue slide out between her lips, and he hastily shuts his eyes again before he sets her on fire.
The first brush of her tongue against him feels like heaven, and his eyes sting worse than before. A low sound of utter and complete surrender falls from his lips, and he leans his head back against the wall, hearing another tile crack.
She doesn't stop, licks him all over, stroking her tongue over him, exploring him in a gentle, thorough way. At the same time warm water is pouring over his sensitized flesh like a lover's caress, and all of it feels so good that he can barely stay on his feet, because his legs are trembling beneath him, and his knees are weak.
And then she opens her mouth, and the head of his cock slides between her lips.
"Oh, God," he whispers hoarsely. "Oh, Chloe."
He wants to tell her how good it feels, how much he likes it, but all of a sudden nothing but disjointed words will come out of his mouth, groans and gasps and her name, over and over again.
No one's ever done this to him before, and the heat and the suction feel unbelievably good. It's a sheer sensual pleasure far beyond anything in his experience. He's glad that Chloe is the first person he's shared it with, because it's so damn intimate that he can't imagine experiencing it with anyone else.
His hips move in an irresistible rhythm, and he wants to thrust hard into her mouth, but he's afraid of hurting her, so he lets her set the pace, even though it's killing him. He's deep inside her mouth now, and his eyes are burning fiercely, and his fingers itch with the need to bury his hands in her hair. He keeps his fists clenched at his sides, figuring it's safer.
His erection is jerking convulsively in her mouth, and he's crying out, knowing he's about to come. He thinks he should probably make her stop but he doesn't really want to. And then she suddenly draws back and lets him go. He almost whimpers at the loss of the sensations she's been creating.
"Chloe," he whispers, a faint protest.
"Clark," she says. He can hear water sloshing as she stands up. "I'm sorry, but you're kind of... burning me."
Her hand hesitantly touches his arm, then quickly yanks away. "Your skin is really hot," she says.
"It's the water." Although for the first time he notices the water isn't as warm as it was. They've been in here for a while, taxing the old water heater to its limits.
"No. You're hot. Seriously hot. Hot enough to burn me."
That's never happened before-- ordinarily his skin's no hotter than a human's-- but no one's ever turned him on this much when he had his powers, either. He thinks about it for a minute. His brain isn't exactly operating at its top speed right now, but the desperate burning in his eyes gives him a clue as to what's going on.
"Maybe it's my heat vision."
"Your heat...? Oh, yeah, it goes off when you're turned on, doesn't it?"
He doesn't remember telling her that. "How'd you know that?"
"Back when you had amnesia. I got to see it in action."
He isn't sure how to take that. Maybe he'll ask her later, when he isn't dying of physical need. Or maybe he doesn't really want to know.
"You don't sweat to cool off," she says, and he can hear echoes of the investigative reporter in her voice.
"I'm sweating now."
"Okay, so you do sweat when you're turned on, but I bet it's not enough. Your body gets heated up, and the only way to cool it off is your heat vision."
"I can't... let out my heat vision here," he says, keeping his eyes closed tightly. "I mean, I might set the house on fire."
"Sure you can. Just aim it into the water."
He shakes his head. "It'll create a lot of steam. You might get burned, Chlo."
She sighs. "But I can't touch you, Clark. It's hard to make love to a guy when you can't touch him."
He gives a humorless laugh. "Not exactly what you had in mind when you wanted to find out what sex with a space alien was like, is it?"
He knows that hmmm. She's thinking about the problem, trying to come up with a solution. A moment later he hears a wet sound as she grabs the washcloth and holds it under the still somewhat warm water for a moment.
And then she wraps it around his cock and grasps him through the material.
The slight roughness of the terrycloth feels good against his sensitive skin, and the gentle, firm touch of her fingers feels even better. She begins to move her hand, and need instantly swells inside him. His skin is burning, his heart is pounding against his ribs, and a relentless, insistent pressure is building in his body. He wants to grab her and hold her, but he knows his hands will burn her, so he balls his hands into fists again, gritting his teeth against the pleasure, trying to prevent himself from totally losing control.
Her hand keeps moving, a little faster, a little harder, and suddenly he can't hold himself back any more, and he knows fire is about to explode within him. He's worried it might explode out of him, too, unless he's careful, so he takes care to keep his eyelids clamped shut, no matter how badly he wants to let his heat vision go.
He's a little concerned Chloe might get burned by his come, but she's obviously thought of that, because she's stepped to the side and has him carefully angled away from her. He quits worrying about it and just lets himself go.
His muscles all stiffen, his head drops back, and a long groan of need escapes him. And then pleasure surges through him in waves, endless bursts of molten heat and liquid flame, an incredible sensation that goes beyond ecstasy, right on into bliss.
It goes on and on, and she doesn't stop stroking him until the last tremor fades. When it's over, his legs give out, and he drops to his knees in the water.
She turns off the shower, bends, and carefully brushes a hand over his shoulder. Apparently he's cool enough to touch now, because she drops down beside him and puts an arm around him.
He turns his head and presses his face against her shoulder, still shaking. "Chloe," he whispers, and slides his arms around her.
"I take it that was adequate?"
He laughs. That's what he loves about Chloe, that she can always make him laugh. He tends to take himself a little too seriously otherwise. "It was a lot more than adequate," he answers. "It was awesome. Outstanding. Incredible, fabulous, fantastic. Take your choice of synonym."
"Glad you liked it."
"I did. Trust me." He lifts his head. His eyelids aren't burning any more, so he opens his eyes and gazes into hers. "Now we need to do something about you."
Read Chapter 4 here.