The satin slides across his skin, soothing under the rasp of denim as he leans over to open the gate. Makes sure the satin stretches properly across his ass. The new cattle amble up over the hill to gaze on dewy grass.

He hadn't been willing to take the risk of buying the thong, fear already prickling the hairs on his neck when he ducked into Victoria's Secret. Metropolis or not, someone might have seen him and wondered.

These cattle might not have been raised on the farm, but they are a good quality; Lex had been true to his word and replaced every one. He's thankful for that.

Walking back to the house, his mind wanders. Pink, blue, cream and lace swim before his eyes until his has to pause for a minute. So many choices and too many styles and why was he even in there?

Huh? Oh no, no thanks. I can find everything for myself. I mean, I can find it by myself. Thanks...

Snuck towards the back, the corner, in any direction of the store as long as the gently smiling sales lady isn't there. He read her look better than he wanted to and eyed the distance between himself and the nearest exit. Almost made it before he saw the tables off to the side.

Inconspicuous, subtle, soft. Sale. He picked one up, fingering the stitching in waistband. People actually pay eight dollars for seven square inches of satin to cover themselves when he can pay less than half that for a set of three cotton briefs from Fordman's. Slight shake of his head in disbelief.

Blinked. Looked up and somehow he was at the cash register, one hand in his pocket and reaching for his wallet, the other being gently opened to extract the satin panties - no, underwear - from his death grip. Watched the blue disappear into thin, crinkling pink and white wrapping paper that was dropped into a bag and handed to him with his receipt. Made sure it was safely tucked into another bag before he joined the rest of the family when they headed back towards Smallville.

It was for Mother's Day, he tries to tell himself. Right, and little green men live on the moon. . . Wait. Deliberately doesn't think about that one.

This is the first time he has dared to wear them outside of the house. Tried them on once before, after everyone else had gone to bed. Grabbed the balled material from the toe of his church shoes, quietly snuck into the second floor bathroom and stripped out of his pajama bottoms. Early May in Kansas and one of the Kent men was hiding in the bathroom to try on women's underwear - thank God that Hiram Kent had never lived to see this day.

He shuddered and listened to the house creak. It knew and laughed at him. Before he could think about it again and loose the nerve, he had found the leg hole and stepped through. Second leg in and he pulled them up. It was uncomfortable.

Pulled the satin down an inch on his thighs and reached a hand down to adjust himself. Tried again and it was far better. He had shifted to see himself in the mirror and groaned at the slide fabric against his dick, a liquid sensation that had aroused and mortified him. He was back in bed, pajama-clad and shivering within thirty seconds, panties back in their hole.

Woke up this morning before everyone else, showered and couldn't bring himself to pull up the white cotton briefs. `Tighty-whities' someone had called them once, and he found them tucked in his right shoe. Already wearing them before the first rooster crow and his jeans soon follow suit. As long as no one else knew, he feels safe.

Now: chores. Farm maintenance first. Before a proper breakfast, before waking up his family, or scanning the paper, he has started the chores. Leaves his empty mug on the nearest step and just feels every inch of the material beneath the old denim jeans as he walks out to the tractor. He finishes just in time to see the smooth black Jaguar pull into the dirt driveway and tries not to look too interested.

"Hello, Lex." That was good. Not too inquisitive, not too harsh. Bends over to pick up the discarded cup on the porch and turns to look Lex in the eye.

Damn that unreadable Luther smirk. "Nice panties, Mr. Kent. Blue really is your color."

Oh hell.