At Makeout Point, Chapter 3

Clark/Chloe
Season 6, post-"Zod"
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.

Where Chloe was concerned, he was totally easy. Her lips skimmed over his throat, and he dropped his head back, wordlessly asking for more. She gave it to him, kissing every inch of exposed skin.

His hands cupped her butt, pulling her against him, and he moved against her hard. Making out with her felt great, so great that he wasn't sure how he'd managed to sit in a car with her and keep his hands off her. He was obviously dumb as a rock. Or maybe that was an insult to rocks.

Pretty girl, Makeout Point, darkness. Any fool could do the math.

But Chloe wasn't just a pretty girl. She was his friend. Maybe that ought to give him pause, but right now it didn't, because somewhere at the edges of his consciousness he thought about Jimmy kissing her, and he discovered he didn't like that idea at all.

He lowered his head, capturing her mouth with his and kissing her hard. He'd meant to approach the kissing thing with a little more finesse, the way he had last time. Not that he was an expert on kissing by any means, but he'd kissed enough girls to know they liked to be kissed softly at first, to be seduced by slow, gentle, easy kisses before a guy stuck his tongue down their throat.

But somehow slow, gentle, easy kisses were no longer a possibility, because he was too damned turned on.

She didn't seem to mind. She parted her lips, and her tongue slid right into his mouth, assertive, almost aggressive. She kissed just like she did everything else-- with confidence and self-assurance, like she knew what she was doing, or was willing to learn.

Their bodies started to twine together again, his thigh sliding between hers, one of her calves wrapping around the back of his knees. His hands dug into her hips, and he started to think longingly about just tearing her jeans off, taking a handful of denim in either hand and just ripping it like tissue paper, and then sinking right into her hot, wet...

Easy, Romeo, he thought. This is Makeout Point, not Hot and Dirty Sex Up Against a Tree Point.

Althoug hot and dirty sex against a tree sounded really tempting.

He had a feeling she wouldn't object, either, given the way she'd wrapped around him. Her body moved against him, in a sinuous, easy rhythm, and when his hand slid up to touch her breast for the first time, she gave a breathless whimper and moved against him so hard he gasped. All the blood in his body seemed to rush to his cock, swelling it almost painfully, and leaving him lightheaded.

Even through a t-shirt and bra he could feel the incredible softness of her breast. She felt so good in his hand, and he squeezed very softly, exploring, then pressed his palm against her, loving the way her rigid nipple jutted eagerly against his hand.

She whimpered again, and he thought he just might pass out from lack of blood flow to his brain. He was touching Chloe Sullivan's breast, and she liked it. Amazing. His mind was totally blown.

He was still kissing her, and she felt so good, tasted so good, that he succumbed to a sudden bold impulse and moved his hand, sliding it up under her shirt. His hand closed around her breast, now covered in nothing but some flimsy lace and satin, and she moaned and whimpered and squirmed as if he'd just gone down on her or something. Apparently she really liked being touched there.

And that worked out great, because he really liked touching her there.

He explored her for a few minutes, letting his fingers trace circles around her nipple, then stroking it with his thumb, and she sobbed into his mouth. Over the clear, clean scent of the forest, the scent of green things growing, he could smell her arousal, sweet and intoxicating. She was hot for him.

He wanted to make her hotter.

He imagined ripping off her bra, but he once again discovered he didn't quite have the nerve. He didn't want to come across as some caveman or something. He slid his hands around to her back and fumbled at the thin strip of material, trying to figure out how the hell it worked.

It didn't.

His hands could fix a tractor, build a barn, help deliver a foal, or crush granite. He had the strong, competent, dexterous hands of a farmer who happened to be a superstrong alien. But despite everything his hands could accomplish, they couldn't get a girl's bra off.

He growled with frustration, and she laughed softly against his mouth.

"Here, let me do it."

She reached around behind herself, and the thing came loose instantly. Magic, he decided. It had to be. Either that, or some sort of fastener keyed exclusively to female DNA.

But he didn't stop to analyze the phenomenon too closely, because he was already shoving her bra and t-shirt up out of his way, dropping partway to his knees, and covering the soft skin of her breast in kisses.

She moaned more loudly than before. He was glad no one was around, because she was being kind of noisy. Not that he minded-- he just didn't want anyone to come investigate. Not now. He wanted to keep doing this, without any interruptions whatsoever.

He wasn't sure why he found kissing her breast to be so incredibly exciting, but it definitely was. Maybe it was the little sounds she made, or the way her body shuddered, or just the fact that her bare, breasts were the most beautiful things he'd ever seen, round and full and gleaming pearlescent in the faint strips of moonlight that filtered through the trees. But regardless, he couldn't stop himself from kissing her, then sliding his tongue in circles around her nipple.

She cried out, and the scent of her arousal grew stronger, and he felt his erection swell even more.

He sucked her nipple into his mouth, and drew on it, hard. At the same time, instinct made his hand roam downward. He found her thigh and squeezed it, then slid his hand upward, between her legs.

Even through denim she felt hot, and he started to move his hand against her, slowly at first. She shuddered and lowered her hands to his shoulders, digging her fingers into his t-shirt as if she thought she might fall over without his support.

His hand moved faster and faster, and suddenly she was crying out very loudly, her body shaking wildly.

At last she caught at his hand, stilling it, and he released her nipple, then rose to his feet and pressed against her hungrily.

Her hands slid down to his jeans, starting to unfasten them, and he pulled back just a bit, reluctantly.

"Chlo," he said. His voice sounded like he'd been eating glass. "Listen, I don't think we're quite ready for..."

"No," she said softly. "You're right. We're not."

But despite her words, she finished unfastening his jeans and shoved his boxers aside. He wasn't quite sure what she had in mind. He knew he ought to stop her, but he couldn't, quite, because his cock ached like crazy and he wanted release so badly he could hardly stand it.

She pushed his jeans down a bit, then pulled him against her.

Her shirt was still rucked up, and he found his cock pressed right up against the bare flesh of her abdomen. He gave a soft moan at the pressure of warm satin skin against his swollen flesh. He pressed against her a little more closely, so that his cock was right between their bodies, and instinct compelled him to move, just a bit.

He was so turned on he could already feel precome spilling out, and both of them were beginning to sweat. Her skin started to feel slippery and wet against him, making it that much easier for him to slide against her. Pleasure built rapidly in his body, and almost unbearable tension gripped his balls.

"Chlo," he whispered, his voice hoarser than before. "We need... we need to stop..."

He didn't really want to stop, but he knew he was about to come all over her, and he wasn't quite sure how she would feel about that. The thought of coming that way, all over her stomach and breasts, made him crazy, but he wasn't quite sure a girl would react the same way. He didn't want her to be grossed out or anything.

"No," she said softly, her hands on his hips, urging him to move faster. "We're not stopping."

He certainly wasn't inclined to argue. He could feel his cock twitching urgently between their bodies, could feel her growing moist with sweat and his precome, and she felt slick and hot and soft, and the friction against his aching flesh was so impossibly good...

His cock jerked hard, and all of a sudden he was coming in wild spasms, long gushes of hot, thick fluid spurting all over her belly. He was barely aware that he was crying out, just as she had. He was barely aware of anything except the violence of his orgasm, the release and ecstasy and heat. He moved, hard and fast, until the tremors faded away, and then he wrapped his arms around her and held her against his chest, heedless of the fact that her t-shirt was wet.

He liked the way she smelled. He could smell his sweat and hers, could smell the earthy, dark scent of his own come, the lighter, sweeter scent of her moisture. She smelled so good, felt so good, that he wondered why on earth he hadn't let himself admit he wanted her before now.

And the grim truth was, he knew he wouldn't have ever admitted how much he wanted her if she hadn't brought him out here. He would have just quietly watched as she started dating Jimmy, boiling over with silent resentment, but never quite daring to make a move on her himself.

Thank God she'd had the guts to make the first move, to fix the mistake she'd made a week ago when she blew him off, and the mistake he'd made when he hadn't pressed the issue. Because the thought of her touching Jimmy this way, getting this intimate with Jimmy, made his teeth grind together.

She must have sensed his sudden tension, because she turned her head into his throat. "What are you thinking?" she asked.

He didn't want to bring down the evening with conversation about another guy. He decided to keep it light. "I was just wondering how your scientific comparison turned out," he answered.

He felt the soft puff of her laughter against his throat. "No contest, Clark. Trust me. You're far and away the better kisser."

The tension ebbed from his muscles, and he smiled into her hair. He'd come pretty damn close to screwing everything up, but everything was straightened out now. Thank God.

They'd managed to fix things between them, admitted the attraction that had always existed between them, and taken the first steps into a deeper, better relationship. He held her a little closer, enjoying the feel of her in his arms.

This, he thought with satisfaction, was the way things ought to be.

-The End-