Disclaimers: Not mine, dammit.
Spoilers: Ahaha. No.
Summary: Five smutlets.
Ratings Note: NC-17.
Author's Note: Quick and dirty, mostly to prove I could finish something, no matter how shallow.
Acknowledgments: To Jenn, who's good at keeping me sane, as is the Spike.
Feedback: Make me smile. firstname.lastname@example.org
Chloe loves sucking dick.
Loves it so much she'd had a big issue about it in her freshman year. It had felt kinda weird to be in a N.O.W. meeting, tugging her skirt down over her rug-burned knees, still smelling like sex and still tasting boy-come.
She'd gone the lesbian route for a bit -- it was pretty much de rigueur for girls -- young women -- like her, and it wasn't like she didn't enjoy herself, but...
Dick. Dick, dick, dick. It always came back to that.
Intellectually, she knew she was going to have to get over herself, like, sooner rather than later, but for the time being...
She bought her oh-so-accommodating roommate a strap-on from Good Vibes and practiced her technique on silicone, breathing in girl-sweat and girl-come and her own girlsex and sucking it hard, sucking it deep.
She looks up through her bangs to watch her roomie go slack-jawed and stupid with lust and thinking to herself:
Compromise is okay.
The first time Lionel kissed Lily, she'd had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. This was the great man, the corporate raider of all corporate raiders? He kissed her like he was testing her lipstick for poison: careful, and yes, nearly hesitant. But that was the first kiss.
When she opened her mouth to say something cutting and final, his tongue slipped in like it belonged there, like he belonged there -- inside her, plundering, yes, and kisses could, indeed, say all that and more.
She'd come back to herself with her hand in his unfashionably long hair and his hands... not quite roaming so much as staking a claim.
He smiled at her like a conqueror, but his eyes were hot and wild.
She remembers thinking to herself that sex would be a good idea, after all.
She doesn't entirely remember how a simple and baldly carnal arrangement between mostly friendly acquaintances had become an engagement, and then a marriage, but as Lionel licks a hot stripe up her inner thigh, as he looks at her from under a fall of long brown hair, looks at her like something edible and desperately necessary...
Lily thinks the sex probably had a great deal to do with it.
Pete worries about his sexual peak. All the books said it was coming up damned soon, and what did he have to show for it?
All right, so he had a lot more going than, say, Clark, but still. He had two years before it all started going downhill, and he was damned well going to make the most of it. Even if most of the time that most amounted to locking himself up in the basement bathroom and jerking off until his wrist was sore.
Really, it wasn't so bad. Pete's the best lover he's ever had -- and so imaginative! That thing with his nipples, and the way it had led right into thoughts of football practice, and cheerleaders wearing tight sweaters in the fall, and fuck yes.
God, what he wouldn't give to slide his dick between creamy, soft breasts. Soft enough that he could kind of squish them against the sides of his dick without hurting the girl and just... slide.
Slide and slide and God come all over her throat and lick it off and lick her off and --
"Pete! Dinner's ready!"
Okay, so it's a little fucked up that he's apparently programmed to come at the sound of his mother calling him, but...
At least it's efficient.
Clark has a deep, abiding love for Lex's ass.
It really is a great ass, and that's not something he expected. Lex is, after all, so lean that Clark's mom keeps trying to feed him and even his dad slips extra veggies in with his regular order when he thinks no one is looking.
Plus, he never wears jeans or anything, so... yeah. It was a surprise to see Lex slip out of his clothes the first time, slip down to lean muscle and pale pale skin and this sweet little round ass that...
It's a good ass. Really tight and firm and with downy little hairs that make Clark shave extra close -- just so he can get cheek to (heh) cheek and feel everything. He loves the way Lex tenses when he's lying flat on his stomach and Clark gets close enough to just breathe on that sensitive spot at the base of his spine. Tenses up hard and then visibly relaxes all over and then tenses up again at the first touch and -- Clark thinks he might be getting good at this.
This sex thing. Because he knows just how to make Lex moan -- that moan, that really good one that sounds like he's breaking inside -- with just his tongue. Or maybe it's his tongue, and the way he holds Lex open, the way he cracks him open like some ripe and strange fruit and dives in.
Stays there, licking up the dark and freakishly hot taste. Salt and oil and musk and Lex, and he never wants to stop. Not ever. Not until he's as deep as he can go and his own body is confused with it; his cock hard and neglected and his mind gone on the wet and the nasty and the good.
Clark wants to see what would happen if Lex wore the cock ring while he was doing this. If he could just keep fucking him with his tongue for hours on end, or until Lex had to cry because it was just that good.
It makes him feel a little guilty to think thoughts like that, but... it also kinda makes it even better.
Clark grins to himself and cracks open his present.
Lana misses living with Nell sometimes. Sure, she still has her own bedroom, but she used to have her own floor. Nell had had her bedroom downstairs, and there really is nothing like knowing no one will hear you if you do... things.
And it's not like Lana does it every day, it's not like she's a slut or anything, it's just...
Well, when she does do it, sometimes she has to cry out just a little. Or take one of those deep, loud breaths that always make her blush and strain her ears to see if anyone... if anyone. Well.
But now, she has to think about Chloe, who's right next door. Whose bed would be right next to hers if the thin, thin wall wasn't there. Sometimes, when Lana's too sad to sleep and the night ticks and moves by like a silent wave, she can hear Chloe's slow, even breaths.
It soothes her to sleep, really.
But sometimes -- well, okay, a lot of the time, and she doesn't think of Chloe as a slut, it's just -- it's not so quiet and even. It's jerky breaths and little sighs that wake her up out of shallow uncomfortable dreams of (heat and wet and dark and salt) things she doesn't want to think about and.
Well, it's not like she knows for sure what Chloe is doing (does she sound like that when she...?), but the images come to her mind just the same.
Does she play with herself or is she really casual about it?
Lana can't help but think it would be a shame not to play with breasts like the ones Chloe has, but then maybe her breasts are like Lana's -- not nearly as sensitive as they could be. But still, she sounds like she's having fun on those nights. And Lana wonders if they... if they do it the same way.
Does Chloe like fingers up there? Or does she just rub the little button? Fast or slow? (fast, she likes it fast you can tell by her breathing)
And sometimes when she's listening to that, she has to touch herself, too. Has to try to do what she thinks Chloe would (she would be rough, and hard), and she comes so hard and fast that sometimes -- sometimes -- she forgets to muffle her face in the extra pillow.
And she listens to the silence on the other side of the wall, and wishes Chloe would stop pretending she doesn't hear.
Also, why not join
Level Three, the Smallville all-fic list?