Season 2, "Rush"
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
God. She's fucking hot.
He's known Chloe for years, and it's not like he's never thought about her in a sexual way, but it never occurred to him that she'd be so damn responsive to everything. All he'd been doing was playing with her breasts, and all of a sudden she was screaming like he was screwing her brains out.
Not that he minds. On the contrary, it turned him on an awful lot, and now his cock is shoving eagerly against his jeans. Apparently it thinks it's time to come out and play.
He rises to his feet. She's still trembling, her eyes closed, her breath coming in unsteady, quavering little gasps. He takes her hand, and her eyes slowly flutter open. She gazes at him, looking slightly bewildered, like she's coming out of a dream.
"My turn," he says, and places her hand right on the front of his jeans.
Her eyes suddenly go very wide, like she's never felt a hard-on before. Maybe she hasn't. He's not sure if she's a virgin or not. But her hand sort of cups around him, like she's seeing how big around he is, and her eyes get wider.
"Move your hand up and down." His voice is low with sexual need, a need so intense he couldn't walk away from this if his mom walked into the barn right now. Hell, air raid sirens could go off, and he wouldn't even step outside to see what the problem was.
Experimentally, she moves her hand, very slightly.
It feels good, and he closes his eyes. "A little more," he tells her. "And a little harder."
Her hand closes on him a little more tightly, and she moves her hand downward, then moves it up again, all the way up.
The feel of her hand sliding over his aching shaft, and then over the sensitive head, wrenches a moan from him. Even through the denim it's incredible. "That's it," he whispers, his hips moving so that he's pressing up against her palm. "That's perfect, Chlo."
She does it again, and again, and suddenly he's close, very close. He's so swollen he just can't stand the confinement of thick, coarse fabric any more, and he doesn't want to cream his jeans anyway, so he reaches down and undoes his pants hastily. He shoves them and his boxers down a bit, and her eyes get absolutely huge at the sight of his hard-on.
God, he loves the way she looks at him, like she's torn between fear and lust. The fact that she's a little scared of how big he is, and yet she wants him anyway, makes him hotter than ever. He thinks about pushing into her body, wonders if he'll fit, if he's too big for her. He guesses she'll stretch for him, but she'll be snug and tight, and he wonders if he'll even be able to get all the way inside her before he loses it.
The way he feels now, probably not. He figures they better do something to get the edge off first.
"Touch me," he whispers.
She reaches out toward him, then hesitates.
He's a little annoyed by her hesitation, because he needs her touch so freaking badly. What does she think it's going to do, bite her? He catches her hand again and gently guides it to him.
Her hand closes around him, very carefully, and need assails him. He's so goddamned turned on, and the feel of her hand against his bare skin is mind-blowingly good.
"Move your hand," he tells her again. "But go slow at first, okay?"
She obediently does it slowly, her hand sliding up and down his shaft. The movement of her hand tightens the skin over the head of his cock, stimulating it in a way that feels incredibly good. Little beads of precome form in response, and his cock is beginning to jerk a little. He tries to hold back his climax, because he knows it'll be even better if he waits. He's done this by himself often enough to know.
He thrusts against her, and her hand falls into a steady rhythm, and all of a sudden she seems really confident about what she's doing. He's never really fantasized about hand jobs, or thought it would feel particularly good to have a girl do this, but God. It's not like jerking himself off at all. It's fucking amazing.
She varies the rhythm, going faster, then slower, then faster again, and he realizes he's going to go nuclear any minute now. He's gasping, low growls of pleasure coming from his chest, and he gives up trying to hold back. He thrusts into her hand, hard and fast, and feels ecstasy swelling in him.
She stops just before he hits the edge of orgasm, and lets go of him. He opens his eyes and glares at her.
She reaches out and brushes a finger over the head, very lightly, so lightly it almost tickles. He gasps and almost falls to his knees.
She does it again and again, running her fingers through his moisture and spreading it all over till the glans of his cock glistens. Her fingers slip easily over his dampened flesh, and he makes a little whimpering sound. He doesn't want to, but he just can't help himself.
"I need to come," he says between his teeth. "Let me come, now."
She ignores his demand. She begins sliding her thumb back and forth, in a gentle, fast rhythm, and now there's an ache deep in his balls, and his hard-on is so swollen he can hardly stand it. But she won't end it, and he thinks he might just die of need.
And then she takes her hand away entirely.
"Touch me." His voice is soft, but commanding.
She looks at him, her head on one side, and keeps her hands at her sides. "What do you want, Clark?" Her voice is a low, seductive whisper. "Are you sure you want me to touch you?"
His head falls back, and his hips jerk convulsively. "Yeah," he whispers.
"How do you want me to touch you? Slow and soft, or hard and fast?"
At this point, he doesn't care. Her quiet words ignite a fire low in his belly. He can't stop his mind from picturing her hand wrapped around him, relentlessly pumping him until he comes, and the image makes him crazy.
"Or do you want to make love to me?"
Hell, he wants that, too. He wants it all. Although making love really isn't what he has in mind. He simply wants to screw her. He remembers his earlier thoughts of pushing into her, of how tight she probably is, how she'd fit him like a glove, how she'd squeeze his cock from base to head...
"I want to fuck you," he answers hoarsely.
And it's true. His mind is full of images of his body pounding into hers. He can practically feel her wet, soft body, even though he's never had a woman before. But he can smell the alluring scent of her arousal, and he has no trouble imagining being inside her. He imagines how hot she'd feel, how good it would feel to bury himself deep inside her...
"You want to fuck me." Her voice is husky and sensual as she repeats the words back to him. "You want to come inside me."
Oh, God, yes, he wants to thrust into her hard and let himself go. He imagines himself coming deep inside her, exploding in hot bursts, imagines his come filling her and then dripping slowly down her thighs, maybe even splattering onto the floor...
All of a sudden he feels pulsing spasms start at the base of his cock, and he closes his eyes and throws his head back and surrenders to the orgasm he can feel tugging at him.
It's a moan, a whimper, a sob, all at once. And then long, loud sounds of ecstasy are coming out of him, and shattering pleasure engulfs him as he comes long and hard, in a gut-wrenching climax that's so intense he can feel it right down to his balls.
He's coming, in a fierce storm of heat and pleasure... and she isn't even touching him. Just the sound of her voice talking about sex was enough to make him come.
God, she's hot.
Read Chapter 4 here.