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The elevator groaned in protest, as its ancient machinery was set into motion by the pressing of the eighteenth floor button. Her building was old. So old the elevator had a steel gate instead of a door, and buttons so round and thick they looked like they belonged on an arcade game. She hated how slow it was. How it merely crawled its way through the floors shaking and rattling with barely enough stability. She swore that if she didn't live so high up she'd take the stairs. She looked at her companion out of the corner of her eye.
Simple joy and half elation.
Bill the doorman had looked questioningly at the both of them when they walked through the lobby; his eyebrows raised and arms folded. She got the feeling he couldn't believe what he was seeing. In sense neither could she. She'd been staring and wondering about Lois Lane for months. Now she was here in this rickety old box in the oldest building in Metropolis waiting to get to her apartment. It felt surreal to be with her. They'd never really even had a conversation before tonight. Not unless you counted the few words they'd exchanged at the office party Perry had thrown in her honor a few weeks ago.
She'd just won the Pulitzer Prize for journalism for her story on corruption in the Metropolis P.D. Vice Squad. Champagne, actual French champagne, Perry spared no expense; flowed like rivers into cheap plastic glasses with the bottoms that kept falling off. Thirty-two floors worth of Daily Planet employees crammed themselves into the main office floor. The crowd made it hard to actually enjoy yourself. It was the first time anyone on the paper had won such an award in nearly twenty years, and the staff was itching to celebrate. She sat on top of a bookcase full of back issues and watched as Lois shook hand after hand, each person offering their congratulations, her smiling politely. She remembered thinking that no one could honestly make a business suit look that good. She'd already had a thing for her then, she'd had a `thing' since the first day she started working there. She couldn't explain to herself in full words what it exactly it was about her.
Simple attraction tinged with lust.
She'd never actually gotten close enough to her to get noticed, Pulitzer Prize winning investigative reporters rarely ever noticed up and coming column and feature writers. She had mostly kept to herself in her corner desk. She's still not sure if it was the boredom or the three glasses of bubbly going straight to her head that made her actually get up and talk to the raven haired woman still holding her trophy.
"Congratulations," she said. "A prize well deserved."
Lois smiled politely, said thank you, and stuck her hand out. She was surprised by how soft it was. Her own hands, no matter how often she tried to moisturize, were still rough and callous after six of seven hours of straight typing everyday. Lois's hands though, seemed completely un-phased. She knew it was the alcohol that made her press her lips to the back of the offered hand, the need to feel that smooth skin under her mouth at least once.
Just a little taste.
After realizing the forwardness of the gesture, the uncertainty if such a thing was even welcome, she muttered a weak apology. She'd had bad past experiences of such forwardness with women. Especially when they weren't even interested like that. The looks of mild disgust and immediate brush-offs. Lois offered no response at all. Merely kept the polite smile locked in place and nodded her head, her eyes emitting the slightest sparkle of intrigue as the next well wisher approached. She hadn't stayed too long after that, throwing her glass into the garbage, she took off muttering small curses of stupidity to herself the entire cab ride home.
She completely avoided looking at Lois the next few days, not that she noticed. Jimmy kept telling her it wasn't that big of a deal. A kiss on the hand rarely meant anything these days, and he doubted that Lois would have gotten any implication of what it could have meant anyway. She told him about the look in her eyes. He said she got that all the time, so she decided to drop it. It was childish and it had been hard enough not to look anyway. The position of her desk in the office gave her the perfect line of sight at Lois's. Her mere geographical location was pretty much how this whole thing started.
Lois never noticed her beyond `you work here don't you?' looks exchanged at the coffee maker or copy machine. So imagine the surprise she felt when Lois stepped into the bar tonight. The kind of bar your straight friends wouldn't even pause in front of. She'd been absently sipping on a strawberry margarita she didn't really want, using the precipitation from the glass to draw misshapen faces on the surface of the bar. She still doesn't know what made her look up at the door, but as she felt the heat of Lois's body still next to her in the elevator, she's glad she did. She felt her stomach sink at the sight of her unrequited affections standing in the foyer. She wasn't sure if she could just have waved her over, maybe she was lost, or had just randomly walked in.
Oh, the sky is falling.
She resigned herself back to only watching as she took another unwanted sip of her drink. Lois's dark eyes scanned through the moderate crowd, she seemed to be looking for someone. Her mind went blank when their eyes met, Lois's lips curving into a smile as she made her way toward the bar. She took one glance at what Chloe was drinking and ordered the same. For the first time since college she'd felt speechless. No words could form, as Lois looked her up and down, reaching for her drink when it arrived. She searched her mind fleetingly for something to say. A remark about some current event, a recent crime, or even a sporting event of some kind. The only thing she conjured was a lame comment about the weather and another congratulations for an award she'd won nearly three weeks ago.
Lois was oddly silent sipping on her drink and never moving her eyes. She shifted uncomfortably on her stool, her mouth moving to speak, nothing coming out. She felt a blush threaten to flush her cheeks and muttered a small apology under her breath about not being more interesting. Lois laughed lightly and put her drink down.
"I didn't think you were going to be this shy," she said. "I've read your columns. They're good. You seem to stand strongly behind your beliefs yet look at everything objectively. Nice sarcastic overtones as well, or are people not supposed to catch onto that?"
Flattery? It was certainly unexpected, but not unwelcome.
"You've read my work?" She finally managed to say.
"I have," Lois replied. "Which is why I didn't think you'd be so sheepish with me. The girl who wrote those words didn't seem the type."
"Oh well... I..."
I don't know how to talk to you.
"You actually liked it?"
"You seemed surprised."
"I don't know," she sighed, her lameness finally starting to annoy her. "I didn't think you knew who I was."
Lois laughed again. A gently soothing laugh that seemed to put her at ease. She watched the way her slim muscles of her throat worked with the laughter, felt the urge to run her tongue along them. She shook her head. It was not the time to lose herself in another fantasy.
"So do you come here often?" She said, immediately feeling the sting of embarrassment for recycling such a tired line. "Because I haven't seen you here before."
"I've never been here before," Lois replied looking around. "Didn't even know it existed. Clever name though, `In & Out Bar.'"
"So you were just walking by?"
"Jimmy told me where I could find you."
"You asked about me?"
"Well it's not everyday a beautiful girl kisses your hand," Lois said. "I was curious."
Flirting. Another unexpected, yet not unwelcome turn of events.
"Mm," Lois mumbled sipping her drink, her lips curving around the glass. "You shouldn't be. It's true."
The details so consuming.
It was her turn to laugh and she looked shyly down at the bar. It had been awhile since she'd flirted with anyone. The last time being nearly a year ago with Carla from marketing. It was a completely different ballgame when someone you'd wanted from afar for so long suddenly decided to pay you some mind. She didn't know how to proceed.
"Why didn't you say anything earlier?"
Lois grinned and leaned closer.
"I was waiting for you to come to me. I wasn't the one with crush you know."
Brief flash of mortification.
"Jimmy has a big mouth," she grumbled.
"Don't be too hard on him," Lois grinned. "He was just being protective of you. Even threatened me if I hurt you. Kind of sweet if you think about it. And besides, I had my suspicions. I've seen you looking a few times."
"Well I uh..."
"Please don't be embarrassed."
"After that kiss on the hand I expected something to happen, but you stayed put."
"Well I didn't know you were... And I had a few bad experiences with people who weren't and I just didn't want that to happen again. Not with you..."
Voice turned to whisper.
"I understand." Lois replied killing off her drink.
The conversation lulled into awkward silence and she once again shifted on her seat trying to think of something newsworthy to talk about. Lois had something else in mind as she leaned closer.
"I know you want me," she whispered, her breath causing shivers.
Attention focused on Lois's hand dancing freely across her leg.
"But I can't do everything."
Place my hand atop of yours.
Her eyes focused slowly on their hands, her gaze moving up the length of Lois's Gucci covered arm, across the sharp angle of her shoulder and across the skin of her neck finally descending on brick red painted lips. Lois's fingers curled around hers, squeezing gently.
All you ever wanted.
"You want it?" The raven-haired reporter asked, her voice still whispered.
She could only nod.
For a moment she couldn't do anything. A small part of her mind simply refused to believe it could be so easy. But another part, a bigger part accepted that it was.
Soft lips and candied caresses.
Lois's lips were soft, repeatedly moistened with lipstick throughout the day, but held a gentle firmness as they pushed back against hers. She let her tongue slip passed those lips, soliciting a small moan from the other woman. Her mouth tasted sweet from the strawberry juice of the margarita, but sour from the tequila. Lois unwound their hands, moving both of hers atop the blonde's hips and pulling her closer. The stool screeched weakly against the linoleum.
They both knew what they wanted.
She lost herself in the kiss, relishing each second of contact. It was such unidentified euphoria getting what you wanted. Who you wanted.
She whimpered softly in protest as Lois pulled away, her eyes still dreamily closed.
"I live all the way on the West Side," Lois said. "Tell me your bed is closer."
Preview of things to come.
"Around the corner," she replied.
"Your place it is then."
She hoped the security camera was still broken as Lois pushed her against the wall of the elevator, her lips too impatient for her apartment. She really didn't want to give Bill a peep show.
The skin of Lois's hands were always smooth and soft, but there was nothing smooth about the way they squeezed her ass, or soft how her arm wound around her neck, holding her as close as possible.
Give me everything.
"You made me crazy having to wait for you," Lois gasped against her cheek before sliding her tongue across her lips and kissing her once again. "Staring at me all day, never making a move."
"You didn't know. You said that."
Her hand slid between Chloe's nylon covered legs, tracing their way up her thigh, and slipping past the silk of her panties feeling the growing moisture of her folds.
"You know now don`t you?" Lois whispered into her ear, fingers brushing across her aching clit. "Don't you?"
"Yes," she gasped, her hips surging forward into an eager hand.
You know it's all for you.
"You're so hot;" Lois teased as she slipped a finger inside.
She couldn't help the whimper of pleasure escape her throat, her insides burning with intense fire spreading from her legs. Lois slipped another finger and she bucked against the wall the bang of her elbow echoing through.
"Now that you know," Lois began, her warm breath building heat along her neck. "What are you going to do about it?"
"I...," she gasped, her hands scrambling for something to hold onto, finally settling on the rusted out handle that ran along the perimeter. She quickly checked what floor they were up to, sighing inwardly with relief when she saw the number thirteen. For the first time she was thankful the elevator was slow. Lois's lips brushed quickly under her ear, her hands still working their magic inside.
"Tell me," she said, her voice low and husky.
She felt the warm coppery taste of blood as she bit down on her lip to keep from crying out. She knew why Lois had gotten so far in life so fast. She knew what she wanted. Was motivated enough to get it, to see it through. She could imagine a teenaged Lois Lane skipping the high school paper completely and going straight for local. She could see a skeptical editor reviewing her work, saying she had promise. Lois railroading through college, not even having to intern before landing a job at the Planet. Making reporter in less than a year.
See. Want. Get.
Lois knew what she was doing.
"Tell me," she repeated. "Tell me or I'll stop."
Heat spreading like wild fire. So close.
Fingers slick and firm. Sensation never wavering.
"Tell me what you want."
"I want to fuck you;" she gasped, the first wave of the orgasm tingling through her entire body, her knuckles turning white against her grip on the handle. Her climax recoiled her hips to crash into Lois's nearly knocking them to the floor.
Lips crashed into one another with reverent fury, velvet tongues meeting lap for lap against each other.
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