Bad Girls

Clark/Chloe/Lana
Second half of season 7
Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
Image from Carbon Copy.
Warning: This is a threesome story with explicit sexual content. If you don't like threesomes, turn back now!

I'm just a bad girl, that's why we get along
Won't make excuses for anything I'm doing wrong...
What's the fun in playing it safe?
Wouldn't you rather misbehave
My way?
-Bitter:Sweet, "Dirty Laundry"

He did not hear what he just thought he heard. He couldn't have.

Clark stands there gaping foolishly, looking at Chloe and Lana. They're sitting on his couch in his living room, and they both look calm and relaxed and comfortable, like the suggestion they just made is perfectly normal.

He must have misheard. He must have. When he thought Chloe said threesome, she must have been talking about Shelby. Fleasome. Yeah, that was obviously the word she'd actually used.

But apparently not. Because they're both still talking, and they are clearly not discussing Shelby.

"We've both been waiting for you a long time," Lana says now. "Ever since you got your powers back, you've refused to make love to me. I'm tired of waiting, Clark. And Chloe... well, she's been in love with you just as long as I have."

"Uh..." He stands there, the wheels of his brain spinning aimlessly. There are two beautiful women watching him, both of whom claim to be in love of him, both of whom apparently want to have sex with him. Together.

Is he fantasizing or something? He's tempted to pinch himself to see if he's dreaming, but it wouldn't do any good. Pinches don't hurt him. Maybe he needs to slug himself in the head with a big chunk of kryptonite.

Or maybe he should just quit worrying about whether he's fantasizing or not. For crying out loud, Chloe and Lana want to do it with him. What on earth is he freaking out about?

A voice answers that question, almost instantly. You know what you're freaking out about. You don't want to kill them, do you?

He thinks about one or both of them in his bed, bleeding, screaming in pain, and panic floods him. He takes a step back, holding out his hands. "Uh, look, it's not that I'm not flattered," he manages to stammer. "Because, well... but it's just the whole superpowers thing..."

They exchange a look, then rise to their feet in a single graceful motion. They move toward him, and he feels real panic rising in his throat, because he isn't sure he has the backbone to walk away from this if they press him too hard.

He's just a guy, a guy who like sex just as much as the next guy, and he loves both of them, albeit in different ways, and... well, honestly, he doesn't want to say no.

Blood, he reminds himself. Shattered bones. The women you love most, screaming in agony.

Because he wants them. Hell, yeah. But he can't put himself first in this situation. He just can't. It isn't about his desires. It's about their safety.

But they're still moving toward him, and suddenly he can't seem to back away. He, a guy who can run at the speed of sound, can't get away. It's like the sensation he gets in his dreams sometimes, where he feels like he's moving underwater. He can't summon up his superspeed. He can't even make his feet move anymore. He's just standing there stupidly, waiting for them to touch him.

And they do.

Chloe's hands fall against him first, her arms wrapping around his chest, her mouth touching his throat, her soft, pliant body pressing into his. Lana moves behind him, her hands sliding up under his t-shirt and resting against his shoulders, her body pressing into his from behind. He's the filling in a sandwich, caught between two really sexy pieces of bread.

Uh, girls.

Their bodies are moving against him, and they feel good, so good he can barely make himself stand still. Chloe's body is lush and curvaceous, and his fingers itch to run all over it, to grab her by the ass and pull her into him. Lana's body is a bit more slender, but no one would ever mistake her for a boy even so. He wants to touch her, too. Her hips are moving against his ass, and more than anything else, he wants to move his hips.

But he doesn't. He tries once more to stop this-- whatever this is. "Look," he says, noticing that his voice sounds gravelly and deep, "I really need to get to sleep. I have a lot of chores to do early tomorrow morning... cows to milk... some ditches to dig..."

He has two gorgeous girls plastered against him, and he's talking about digging ditches. It is, he thinks, quite possibly the dumbest thing he's ever said in his lifetime. But he just can't do this... he can't... can't...

He tries to hold onto the image of hurting them, of shattering them in his superhuman grip, but all he can see in his mind is their naked bodies sprawled in his bed. All he can hear in his mind is their voices, screaming-- but with pleasure rather than with pain.

His imagination is not cooperating. Neither is his body. He's got a hard-on like steel, and the more Chloe presses against it, and Lana runs her hands all over his skin, the more he thinks he might just come in his jeans. His breath is coming in hard, sharp gasps, his heart is pounding against his ribs, and he can feel sweat beginning to bead on his skin.

The girls feel good against him, but very different. They even smell different. Chloe smells like pears and apples, crisp and fresh and clean, and Lana smells exotic, like tropical night-blooming flowers. Their scents mingle in the heated air, and he breathes deeply, drawing in the fragrances.

He needs... God, he needs this so much. He's needed sexual release for two years now. He needs it, craves it, to the point where it consumes far too many of his waking thoughts, and fills his dreams at night. He jerks off all the time, but it doesn't help much. He's just like any other guy, in that going without sex for so long has driven him half out of his head, desperate for release.

And vulnerable to seduction. Very, very vulnerable.

Lana's hands are around his waist, and he realizes with a shock that she's undoing his jeans. Her little hands unfasten them, unzip them, and then she's pushing his boxers out of the way...

And taking his swollen erection right into her hand.

Her slender fingers wrap around him, and his hips move. Hard. He can't help it. God. Lana's hand is stroking up and down his bare cock, and somehow Chloe's shirt has gotten pushed up, so the head of it is rubbing right against her stomach, and... oh, yeah, he's going to come any time now. He feels his cock beginning to jerk in quick, desperate spasms, feels precome wetting Chloe's stomach, making her so slick and satiny and...

A frantic sound rises out of his throat. His hands are clutching Chloe's hips, holding her there, and he's trying so hard not to hurt her, so hard to pay attention to what the hell he's doing, but oh God he just can't help losing himself in the pleasure, and even though he wants it to be all about their safety, right now it's all about him, what he needs, what he has to have, what he can't live without any longer.

Lana's hand is jacking him off hard and fast, and it feels incredible. God. He didn't even know she knew how to do that. She never did it to him on the few earlier occasions when they made love. He wonders, very vaguely, where she picked up the talent, but decides he doesn't want to know. Probably the whole Bizarre Clark thing, and he totally does not want to think about that when he's, well...

"Unnnhhhh." Another long sound of lust and need escapes him. He thrusts hard, into Lana's hand, against Chloe's belly, and it's hot and slippery and like every wet dream he's ever had all rolled into one, and he can't hold back any more. He's going to come, all over Chloe, of all people, the girl who's his best friend, but who he's always loved a hell of a lot, and maybe wanted this way all along, on some level. He's going to come in Lana's hand, the girl he's had such serious issues with this year, the girl he's always loved but never quite been able to trust.

They shouldn't be doing this. The three of them have too much to talk about, too much to discuss, too many things to straighten out before they let themselves get confused by the physical...

Shut the hell up, he tells his brain. He doesn't want to talk right now. He's busy, thank you very much.

He groans again, feeling his balls pull up against his body, and a long, tortured wail rips its way out of his chest.

And then Chloe's moving away from him, just a bit, and Lana's releasing him, despite his whimper of near-despair. God, no, they can't stop now. They just can't.

And they aren't, not really. Together, they pull off his blue t-shirt, and then Chloe's kissing his chest, and Lana's kissing his back, and he throws his head back with abandon, arching his spine hard, and lets them do anything they want to him.

Chloe kisses her way down his abdomen, and he can't stop himself from grasping her by the hair, gently, and pushing her head down a bit. He's never asked a girl for that, but God, he needs it, so damn badly.

She seems willing to give it to him. Her lips brush over the tip of his cock, while Lana's hand reaches a little lower and caresses his taut balls, and he shudders and cries out, surrendering to them both.

"We love you, Clark." Lana is speaking against his shoulder, softly but clearly. "Both of us love you an awful lot."

He loves them too. They've all had their problems this year. Lana skated precariously close to the dark edge, and maybe fell over it for a while, but she's fought her way back into the light. Chloe's dealing with the realization that she's a meteor freak. And he-- well, he's been trying to stay away from them both, physically speaking, because he's still scared to death of hurting them. But his physical needs are slowly overcoming his fears.

He never would have dared suggest this to them, but suddenly he realizes it's what he's always wanted. He's never wanted to choose.

He's always wanted both of them. Loved both of them.

Chloe's still kissing him, light, teasing caresses that are driving him wild. If he was like steel before, he's titanium now. He can feel precome gushing out, wetting the tip of his cock, and he's a little embarrassed, because she can probably taste it, and, well, he's worried she won't like it.

But she doesn't seem to mind. Suddenly her warm wet tongue is on him, stroking him in circles, and he cries out again, utterly lost in a fog of ecstasy and need. Lana's hand is stroking his balls, caressing just beneath his balls, and it's all so damn good...

"Please," he whispers.

Please, I can't take it any more, I can't wait another second, I have to come, please please please let it happen...

He isn't sure if he says the words or not. But they understand him and his needs, with or without words. Chloe's opening her mouth, and then he's sliding into the warm, wet depths, and... oh, Jesus. Nothing has ever felt this good.

He thrusts, hard, trying so hard not to hurt her, but unable to resist the demands of his body any longer. She somehow manages to take in an awful lot of him without choking. She's got some talents, too, and once again, he decides not to wonder how she developed them. The last thing he wants to think about is her with her former boyfriend Jimmy, doing this.

All he wants to think about is Chloe's mouth on him, Lana's hands on him, right here, right now.

He arches his back, bites his lip, trying desperately to hold back. They don't let him. Lana's hands slip up his chest, beginning to stroke his nipples, and he can't stop it any longer, can't hold any part of himself back from them. Two years of deprivation have left him helpless against their determined assault.

Suddenly he's shuddering all over, his muscles quivering, his skin flushing, his nerves flaring with sparks. And then he's coming in Chloe's mouth, coming with a wild-beast roar of release and an ecstasy sharper than anything he's ever known. Rush after rush of flaming heat burns its way out of him in a long, incredibly satisfying explosion, and he doesn't stop screaming till it's all over.

When he comes back to himself, he's standing there in his living room, shaking, drained and exhausted and suddenly terrified that he hurt Chloe, that maybe he came so hard that he choked her, or that his fingers clutching her shoulders broke her bones...

But she's standing up and smiling at him, unhurt. Behind him, Lana puts her arms around him and hugs him, hard. Chloe hugs him from the front. He tries, awkwardly, to hug both of them back, one arm for each girl.

"We love you," they say in soft unison.

"Yeah," he says, shifting so they're both in front of him, so he can hug them a little better. His jeans are about to fall off, but what the hell-- he's pretty well out of dignity at this point anyway. "I love you guys, too."

"And you didn't hurt us," Chloe says, looking up at him, her eyes twinkling.

"So maybe you'd be willing to take the next step now?" Lana adds. Her eyes are more serious-- she's always taken things seriously-- but he sees love in both sets of eyes, the hazel and the dark green. Whatever issues they've had, whatever issues they still have, Lana loves him, and so does Chloe. He doesn't doubt that they both love him.

And he definitely doesn't doubt that he loves them both.

Even so, he hesitates, just for a moment. Because what they did... well, yeah, he could have hurt them, but it isn't quite the same as actual sex. Besides, he isn't even sure how to have sex with two girls. He's only got one cock, after all, which makes the issue sort of problematical. Do they expect him to, uh...

He pushes his concerns away. If he didn't snap Chloe's bones while he was coming this time, he won't crush either of them next time, either. And a threesome might be awkward, but he figures they probably haven't done it either. So they can all learn how to do it together.

"Yeah," he says. "Let's go for it."

He wraps his arms around them, and heads upstairs with both his girls.

-The End-