2: Red Hotter
3: Red Hottest
Manip by Khyla. Used with permission of the artist.
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
Author's Note: This is more explicit than my usual stories.
Clark's on red K again.
That’s all Chloe can figure. Because he's her best friend, and it's perfectly normal for him to stop by to visit her in her apartment, even when it's late and she's not wearing anything more than a nightshirt. But it's not normal for him to grab her by the shoulders, staring down at her with hungry eyes, like he might just devour her whole. It's not normal for him to drag her down onto the couch and start kissing her like she's the sexiest woman on the planet, his lips hot and his tongue thrusting into her mouth and his big hand tangling in her hair.
He must be on red kryptonite, the only substance on Earth that affects him like a drug. It lowers his inhibitions, changes his personality, and makes him very, very interested in sex. Even sex with her. Ordinarily he seems to barely notice that she's female, but right now... well, he's definitely noticed.
Yeah, she thinks as his tongue strokes hers aggressively. There's something wrong here.
But maybe there's something wrong with her, too, because she has a boyfriend. And yet the minute Clark kissed her, she totally forgot about Jimmy Olsen. All she can think about is the way Clark's big, powerful body feels against hers. All she can think about is the way he smells, and the way his mouth tastes.
Damn it. She'd been so very confident that she'd moved on from Clark. She'd assured herself over and over again that, yeah, they were very close friends, but she didn't have any romantic feelings left for him. Her love for him was a thing of the past, a childhood fantasy she'd finally left behind.
And yet here she is, her arms wrapped around his waist, kissing him helplessly.
Clark's hands are traveling down her arms, grazing lightly over the sides of her breasts. She’s wearing a nightshirt, because Clark stopped by the Talon apartment as she was getting ready for bed. No bra. The light touch of Clark's thumbs against her breasts makes her nipples pop out, thrusting against the material of her nightshirt in a totally nonsubtle way. She squirms slightly, unable to help herself, and the fabric rubs against her nipples, turning her on worse than before.
She’s not wearing panties, and suddenly she’s afraid there will be a wet patch on the sofa beneath her when she stands up, and she’ll be embarrassed, because Clark will know exactly how she reacted to his touch. But then again, Clark can probably smell her arousal anyway. She sighs mentally at the idea, thinking that having a superpowered friend around is difficult enough. She figures having a superpowered lover could get damned annoying.
Although she suspects it might have its compensations.
Despite that, she knows she needs to push Clark away and stand up, because Clark's her friend, and she's got a boyfriend, and besides, Clark still has a thing for their mutual friend Lana Lang. Their lives are already quite complicated enough without adding—this. Whatever this is.
She thinks she should push Clark away, but she doesn’t really mean it, because Clark's hands are moving toward her nipples, stroking and kneading until her breasts ache, until her nipples are so tight she can hardly breathe. And yeah, she has a boyfriend, but Jimmy’s touch has never made her so hot so fast. Because Jimmy isn't Clark.
And then Clark's fingers are stroking over her nipples. Despite his big, strong farmboy hands, he caresses her with delicate, soft feather touches, and she jerks violently. A little sound she can’t repress comes out of her mouth, a sound that’s almost a squeak.
“You like that,” Clark says softly. His green eyes are avidly watching Chloe’s every reaction, and there’s a look in his eyes Chloe has never seen before, something hot and hungry and purely sexual. Clark's ordinarily about as repressed as it's possible for a guy to be, but whatever he's on tonight has definitely unleashed the inner horndog.
Red K, she thinks. Has to be.
Not that she's complaining.
She intends to say something else, but Clark's thumbs are caressing her nipples, lightly but quickly, and heat pools in the depths of her belly. Her head falls back, her eyes shut, and suddenly she’s surrendering despite herself. And maybe it’s because Clark is an impossibly sexy guy, or maybe it’s just because there’s always been something between them, something a lot more intense than either of them has ever wanted to admit. Something Chloe thought was gone, but which obviously is still there.
Either way, Clark's hands feel incredible on her body. He gives her a light push, and Chloe doesn’t fight or struggle. She goes over backward on the couch. Clark kneels between her thighs and leans over her, pushing up her nightshirt and staring at her bare breasts with hot, dark eyes.
Chloe knows her nipples are hard and crinkled, and she’s a little embarrassed by the obviousness of her reaction. She’s even more embarrassed when Clark's gaze moves downward, because she feels vulnerable with her thighs parted this way, and she knows there’s already moisture on her thighs. She’s hot and swollen and soft, and her pussy is practically pulsating with need, and she’s afraid he can see all that as he sits between her thighs, staring.
But her embarrassment fades as Clark bends over, his dark, wavy hair falling into his eyes, and licks at her nipple. Heat swirls through Chloe, a need she can’t deny, and she moves restlessly on the couch. The touch of his tongue is pure pleasure, and she feels another rush of heat between her thighs.
His big, warm hand comes to rest on her thigh. Oh, God, please… Chloe thinks, straining instinctively toward that hand. She has a boyfriend, and she ought not to be burning so desperately for Clark's touch, especially not when she's pretty sure he's somehow on red K. But she can't help herself. She wants him to touch her, in every way possible. Hands, mouth, tongue…
Every simple word sends an explicit image through her brain. Every image makes her want, so much more intensely than ever before.
Clark is sucking on her nipple now, suckling hard, his lips tugging on the hard bud fiercely. Chloe’s writhing, helpless, her eyes shut and her mouth open as she gasps for air. She shares this apartment with her cousin Lois, but Lois is out of town, so she can cry out if she wants. Yes, they're in the middle of downtown Smallville, but if anyone hears her they’ll just think she’s with Jimmy.
But she doesn’t want to cry out, because she doesn’t want to admit how badly she wants this. She doesn't want to admit that all this time, for all these years, she's wanted him. No matter how many times she tells herself she's over him... she's not. She's just not.
She can’t prevent her body from betraying how desperate it is for his touch, how badly she craves him. Her hips jerk in a steady, hungry rhythm, and her cunt is dripping wet, every fold saturated with hot cream. She can feel the moisture wetting her thighs and her ass, can feel her inner muscles clenching with each movement of Clark's lips. Her clit is swollen, throbbing, painfully ready to be touched.
Clark's hand moves on her leg, just a little, and Chloe squirms, imagining his big, blunt fingers stroking her clit, sliding into her body. She’s so wet and so ready that the thought of Clark's hand fucking her drags another of those little sounds from her.
“You want me to touch you,” Clark whispers, pulling his mouth away from Chloe’s breast for just an instant. She opens her eyes long enough to see him staring at her, his gaze dark and intense. “You want me to make you come, Chloe.”
Oh, God. Oh, yes, she craves his touch so badly. His hand slides to her inner thigh, tickling the sensitive flesh, and slides up, just an inch or two away from her throbbing pussy. He's so close, and yet not close enough, and she utters a desperate sob of need.
He licks her nipple one last time, then kisses his way down across her flat abdomen, over her navel, and lower. Chloe gasps and writhes, because she's imagined this a thousand times, imagined his mouth on her, hot and hungry, traveling downward. She flashes on all the fantasies she's had about him over the years, imagining his lips against her, imagining his tongue sliding out to caress her clit, over and over again, and spasms of terrible need rock her.
God, she wants Clark to go down on her. God, yes.
He hesitates just above her pubic hair, and she gives another sob of frustrated yearning. His hand and mouth are only an inch or so away from where she needs them, and if he stops now she’s absolutely going to die.
“Please,” she whispers.
Clark raises his head and looks at her again, and she can see the dark satisfaction in his eyes. He stares at her for a moment, letting her know who’s in charge, letting her know that he’s aware of her submission, and that he likes it. And then he lowers his head, and very lightly brushes a kiss right over her clitoris.
Chloe jerks violently, and a long wail comes from her throat. God. It’s the best thing ever. It’s not like Jimmy’s never gone down on her, but unfortunately he’s not very good at it. He tends to be too aggressive, too hard, and it never feels really good. It’s honestly more irritating than anything.
Clark shouldn't be an expert at this sort of thing either. She's almost certain he hasn't had much experience. But he seems to instinctively know what makes her feel good. He's brushing soft, loving kisses over her vulnerable flesh, and every kiss sends a spasm of heat through her.
She gasps frantically, easing her thighs further apart in total submission. Right now, Clark totally owns her. She’d crawl on the floor for him, kiss his feet. And she’s okay with that, because Clark is her very best friend in the world, and she trusts him to never do anything to hurt her. Even when he's high on red K, she trusts him with her life.
He keeps brushing those light kisses over her, and one big finger begins to slowly explore the moist entrance to her body. Chloe’s so wet that his finger slips inside, very easily. He only slides the finger in half an inch or so, then begins to move it in slow, shallow thrusts, drawing a long wail from her throat.
It feels incredible, but she begins to realize he's teasing her, making her want it worse than before rather than offering satisfaction. And it’s working. She wants it so fucking bad. She’s creaming all over his questing finger, so wet and soft and hot that she’s ready for a lot more than one fingertip.
Clark's kisses get a little more intimate, his tongue lightly flickering out and exploring, teasing and tickling and tormenting just a bit. His finger slides in just a little further, too, and Chloe’s stomach and thighs go taut with need. His touch feels so good, so hot. So tender.
Clark's outright licking her clit now, with soft, moist strokes of his tongue, and it’s so impossibly good that she's sobbing and crying out, her body moving frantically. God, she thinks, I’m going to come, I’m going to come right now….
She’s going to come all over Clark's hand and all over his lips, and it’s going to be so goddamned hot she thinks the top of her head might just blow off. She can feel a fierce, wild orgasm brewing inside her, can feel the desperate tension in her body as his finger slides in just a little further, as his licks get a little longer and wetter.
Her body clamps down on his finger, and a long, frantic sound rises from her throat. “Ahhhhhhhhh…”
“You like that.” Clark lifts his head and studies her, his eyes dark as jade, filled with lust and heat and sexual knowledge. He understands Chloe and her reactions better than she ever realized. “You like it when I go down on you.”
She wants his mouth back there, but his finger is still moving, in and out, in a slow, steady rhythm that feels oh so good. She gasps, struggling for breath so she can respond.
“More,” she whispers at last. “Please.”
“I’m not ready for you to come yet.” Clark adds a second finger and thrusts it into her, deep and hard. She sobs, feeling her body stretch around his fingers. His hands are huge, and Chloe’s always been tight, so his two fingers fill her entirely. Her pussy has been aching to be filled, and his fingers satisfy that primitive need, sending a new pleasure thrumming through her veins.
He begins thrusting, rhythmically but slowly, sending her higher and higher. And then his fingers curl just a bit as he searches for a sensitive spot deep inside. He finds it, and Chloe jerks wildly.
“Oh, my God!”
“That feels good,” he says, stroking the spot, very slowly. “Doesn’t it?”
“Oh God oh God ohhhh…” Her words fade off into a long moan. She’s never found her own g-spot, never really believed it was there. She always thought g-spots were a myth, like unicorns and chupacabras. But oh God, it’s definitely there.
She wonders blurrily how Clark ever found out about g-spots, anyway. He certainly never talked about it with her. Yes, they've talked about sex, but only in vague, general terms, because the topic's always seemed a little dangerous somehow, and because it always makes him blush. Maybe some other girl shared that information with him at some point, or maybe he's just been swiping his mom's magazines again.
But she can't focus her brain enough to wonder about it much. She can’t believe how good it feels to be stroked there. His fingers probe and caress and explore, surprisingly gentle, until he finds exactly the right spot, the spot that turns Chloe into a helpless, shuddering mass of need, the spot that makes her tremble with something terribly close to ecstasy.
She's never felt anything like this, and if she was wet before, she’s totally soaked now. Her outspread thighs are quivering, and Clark's hand is wet with her cream.
“I can make you come,” he says softly. “Whenever I want, I can make you come. But you won’t come until I let you. You’re mine, Chloe. All mine, to do whatever I want with.”
She arches her head back, whimpering. She couldn’t answer if she wanted to. But she senses she isn’t expected to answer, anyway. Clark's right, and they both know it. Right now he can do anything to her she wants. Anything at all.
“You want me to lick you again,” Clark murmurs, his fingers thrusting in a slow rhythm. At the height of every thrust he strokes Chloe’s g-spot, softly but firmly. The long slow thrusts combined with the gentle, loving caresses are rapidly driving her insane.
“Yes.” Her voice is a hoarse whisper, punctuated by gasps. “Oh, please, oh, please…”
He lowers his head and begins to lick again, torturously slowly. She can feel that her clit is swollen and hard, and with every stroke of his tongue, it aches worse than before. She’s never needed release as badly as she does at this moment.
He adds a third finger, stretching Chloe to her limits, and thrusts slowly, echoing the movements of his tongue. His fingers continue to caress her, probing that exquisitely sensitive place deep inside.
It’s completely overwhelming, incredibly sensual, and Chloe gives herself up to it totally. She knows she’s sobbing, crying out, even screaming, but she can’t stop herself, because it’s so impossibly good. Her cunt is squeezing his fingers in hard, desperate little spasms, and if only he'd pick up the pace, just a tiny bit, she knows she’d come like a rocket. But even though Clark's never made love to her before, he knows her and her reactions, and he carefully maintains the pace that keeps her balanced right on the edge.
Scattered words fall from her lips. “Oh… God. Please. Yes. Clark. Please.”
“You’re so wet.” He lifts his head, but his fingers curl inside her, a little more firmly, stroking her g-spot a little faster. “Chloe, you taste so good. I always knew you’d taste good. Ever since freshman year, I thought you’d taste like this.”
Chloe stares at him, shocked. She's spent years fantasizing about Clark, but she never imagined he was thinking about her that way all these years, too. Clark looks back at her, his eyes smoldering.
“Did you ever think about me this way?”
“I…” The fingers stroke even faster, and she closes her eyes and writhes, helpless. “Maybe every… now and then.”
The truth is, she thinks of Clark this way all the time, but she tries really hard not to. Over the past year, she's struggled so hard to move on, to think of him as nothing more than a friend. But friendship isn't all she feels for him, and deep down she knows that. What she feels for him is a lot more intense than mere friendship.
And now she knows she’ll never be able to fool herself into thinking about him as a mere friend again. She’ll never look at him again without imagining his tongue on her clit and his fingers deep inside her pussy, stroking and thrusting and driving her to the verge of insanity. She’ll never look at him again without thinking of how impossibly wet she is right now.
She’ll never again look at him without getting wet.
“You’re going to think about me this way from now on,” he says softly.
“Yes. God, yes. Always.”
“From now on,” he whispers, “you’ll remember begging me to come, every time you look at me.”
The fingers move inside her, touching that place even faster. Chloe is so close to an orgasm that she can’t stop herself from writhing, squirming, whimpering.
“You’ll let me do this to you again and again.” His voice is still soft, but it’s fierce and commanding and possessive. “Any time I want. Anywhere I want. Any time I call you, you'll come running."
“Oh, God, yes.” Ordinarily Clark isn't the alpha male type, but on red K he's totally different. Bossy, obnoxious, and outright annoying. Except Chloe isn't annoyed. She's shocked to discover she wants him to be in charge. “Oh, yes, oh yes…”
His hand is moving harder now, in a fast, steady rhythm that's exactly what Chloe wants. What she needs. She throws her head back, her body twisting wildly, her arms flung over her head, her thighs wide open, giving him access to every last inch of her. She’s surrendered totally. She belongs to Clark, body and soul.
She can feel her body throbbing in wild, frantic spasms, and her hips rise right off the couch to meet his hand. She cries out with every thrust, and pleasure and need and desire tie her into knots.
The thrusts stop, and she sobs with frustrated need, but he begins probing her g-spot again, and a different kind of pleasure builds inside her. She can’t believe how desperate she is to come. She’s never needed release this badly in her life. She’s covered with sweat, her breathing is labored, and she’s quite simply frantic.
“Beg for it, Chloe.”
His voice is deep and resonant with the promise of sex, and his eyes are full of dark lust. Chloe doesn’t hesitate. She’s already come to realize she’s Clark's. She's already come to accept it.
“Tell me what you want.”
“I want…” His fingers flex slightly, stroking her deep inside, and she sobs. “That.”
“Tell me exactly what you want, Chloe.”
“I want…” Chloe draws in an unsteady breath, finding it difficult to put words to something that ought to be very simple and straightforward. “I want to come.”
“I’m going to make you come. Over and over again.” His fingers flex again, and another bolt of pleasure hits Chloe, making her gasp. “But tell me, how do you want me to make you come?”
“Your… hand.” Chloe, who ordinarily talks quite bluntly about sex, suddenly feels unaccountably shy. “And your mouth.”
“You want to be finger fucked.” His mouth curves in a very sensual, dangerous smile. “And you want me to go down on you.”
The uncharacteristic, blunt words coming out of Clark's mouth ought to shock her, but instead they just turn her on worse than before. “Yes. Please. Oh, God, please.”
“I can do that.” Clark moves his hand in a sudden hard thrust. “I will do that. And when I’m done… you’re going to make me come. Aren’t you?”
Chloe thinks of running her hands all over his big, muscled body, imagines taking his cock into her mouth and licking and sucking, imagines his body, hot and hard and sleek, sliding into hers. Suddenly she’s even wetter, her cunt pulsing rhythmically around his fingers. She can’t believe how much the idea of making love to him turns her on. “Yes,” she whispers, her voice soft with surrender.
Clark smiles, triumph lighting his eyes, and then his hand is moving hard and fast in her body, striking that sensitive spot with every thrust. At the same moment he lowers his head, and his lips close over her swollen, hard clit, suckling hard.
Suddenly Chloe is screaming against an onslaught of pleasure so intense it’s unbearable. Her spine arches, her eyes clench shut, and every nerve in her body catches on fire. She’s finally coming, and her orgasm is so hard and so long that she can’t believe it. It just goes on and on, rolling over her in wave after warm wave, like she’s drowning in the depths of a tropical ocean.
Her body jerks and arches helplessly, and her cunt ripples around his fingers in long, driving spasms, throbbing with heat and ecstasy. It’s so, so, so good, like nothing she’s ever experienced before, and it sweeps her away, drowning her in sensation. She's totally helpless, totally out of control.
The first climax ebbs, but Clark doesn’t let up. His fingers probe inside her pussy, stroking with deep, fast caresses, and suddenly she's coming again, only this climax feels a little different. No more or less intense, but not quite the same. She screams again, wild with the pleasure. And then she’s coming again, and again, and she just can’t stop. The orgasms are long and powerful and totally beyond her control.
She’s completely under Clark's command now.
She screams her way through six long, hard, rapturous orgasms, and then Clark finally raises his head and lets his fingers slide out of Chloe’s dripping cunt. She falls back against the couch, gasping, her heart pounding so hard she thinks it might explode out of her chest. Clark straightens up, still kneeling between her thighs, and smiles down at her, a darkly sexual smile that's almost frightening. He looks like he likes having the power in a relationship, and intends to take advantage of it.
"Now," he says in a voice oozing with sex. "What are you going to do for me?"
All of a sudden Chloe remembers he's on red K. She's not sure why or how, but somewhere on his person, there must be one of the little crimson rocks. Either that, or he's managed to ingest it somehow, the way he did when Lois kissed him while wearing meteor rock lipstick. But most likely, there's a rock on him somewhere.
"Somehow you've gotten exposed to red K," she says softly. "Let's figure out where it is, and I'll take it and get rid of it. Then I'll do whatever you want."
His teeth flash white in a smile that looks more like a snarl. "I don't think so, Chlo. I never would have gotten the nerve to come over here tonight without it."
So he's using the red K voluntarily. That, at least, is a relief. The idea that he put red K into his own pocket so he'd have the nerve to approach her... well, she can live with that. In fact, it's oddly flattering. All this time she's wanted him, but she's figured he didn't have any sexual interest in her. But if he was just too scared to make a move, that puts a whole different spin on things. Maybe he's not in love with her... but he wants her. The knowledge makes her glow, deep inside.
She knows red K is dangerous, and nothing to mess around with, and she knows that if he's on it for too long a time he can get really ugly. But hopefully he'll fall asleep later, and she'll get it from him then so he isn't exposed to it too long. It's not like she can forcibly take it from him. He's a hundred times stronger than she is. So she might as well just roll with it and enjoy the situation.
She looks into his beautiful face and admits to herself that she couldn't possibly bring herself to say no to him anyway.
"Okay," she says softly. "What do you want me to do?"
The snarl alters, shifting subtly into a more genuine smile. "What are you willing to do for me, Chlo?"
Chloe looks up at him. "Anything, Clark," she answers, her voice very soft and very meek. "Anything you want. Anything at all."
She means it, every word, and he can obviously tell, because his eyes soften. "Good." He takes her hand and holds it, looking into her eyes. "You're going to do a lot of things for me, Chloe. You're going to do everything for me."
Chloe stares up into the jade eyes and feels herself falling into them. Clark's always been her friend, and now he's her lover. He's in charge, totally in control of her, and she's okay with that. Whether he's on red K or not, whether he's aggressive and cocky or his normal quiet self, she'll do whatever he wants. Because either way, she's surrendered to him, and there's no going back now.
"Okay," she agrees softly. "Anything and everything, Clark."
Read the sequel, Red Hotter.