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31_days2006-07-10 08:46 pm
all-you-wanted.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2006-07-10 08:46 pm
[july 10] [Smallville] Ramble
Title: Ramble
Day/Theme: 7/10 "The Woman In Me Shouts Out"
Series: Smallville
Character/Pairing: Chloe. Clark
Rating: NC-17, for harsh language and sexual images.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Don't sue.
Spoilers: Up to season 5. I haven't seen all the seasons yet, so if I'm off on something, somewhere. My apoligies and let me know so I can fix it. Unless it totally screws up the story. Because I kinda like it.
Dedicated to those times when your mind just won't do what or who you want it to. Parts in italics are basically the other part of Chloe's mind fighting with her. Apparently mind likes to ramble on.
It had been a very bad and stressful day. I was late to my Ethics in Journalism class, got a 14 out of 20 on my Western Civ midterm, and my Journalism professor felt the need to tell me and my entire class that my piece on the proposed coal fired power plant in nearby Ridgefield was sophomoric and too liberal for any but the op/eds. Even now I can hear his smug voice in my head. “No one wants to know your opinion on the matter Ms. Sullivan. They just want to know what it is gonna cost them in the long run in bills and taxes.” Then I get to work at the Planet to find out there was a small snafu with pictures and captions. Apparently the picture of the president of the Daughters of the American Revolution who died in a freak liposuction accident wasn’t Norman Vaughn, and the battle of Normandy survivor, who had succumbed to prostate cancer wasn’t Muffy Sampson, but that’s what it said in today’s obits and it was my signature on the ok’d proofs. I’m actually happy they sent me home. For once the Planet is the last place I really want to be.
My only saving grace for this day has been coming home to find my dorm room empty and a note from Lana saying not to wait up. She’s probably with Lex or something. I don’t get her sometimes or her taste in men. She likes them to the extreme. Extremely "Big Man on Campus", extremely mental. extremely sweet and now extremely bad boy.
Lex, Lex, Lex. Why are the bad boys always so sexy?
Lex has been like our older brother for years. I just don’t see the attraction,
outside the money, power, body, and knowledge of things boys our age only begin to know.
Yeah but that lack of hair thing just throws me off. Shallow I know.
I wonder if he’s hairless everywhere?
He reminds me of Mr. Clean with that chrome dome of his. And my shampoo bottle. Actually my shampoo bottle is quite phallic shaped.
You know a phallic shaped device might help right now?
I was almost too embarrassed to purchase it. I saw the way the store clerk looked at me. Single girl, buying shampoo at an all night drugstore. Hey its not my fault the best shampoo on the market is packaged like a penis.
Or maybe something with a motor? Running on double AA? Sure would give my hand a rest.
I wonder if Lex and Lana have had sex yet?
Don’t got there. That is not a visual you want. Lana in the throws of passion. .... ugh. She probably even comes politely and sweetly. Of course I seriously doubt Lex does anything having to do with sex polite or sweet.
Lex might be fun in bed. All that pent up rage and other issues coursing through his veins. Lex is definitely a more throw you up against the wall and fuck you blind kind of guy. Mr. Cuddly I do not see him being.
Totally not a Clark Kent.
She and Clark had sex. When he told me I tried to not let it on that it hurt.
Well its not like you waited for him either.
Going from Clark to Lex in a blink of weeks. Talk about your 180’s.
I wonder what sex with him was like?
Stop it. You are just gonna go down a road that you don’t like. Either you will end up going over it again, the whole crazy and weird Lana/Clark courtship and your place in it as the friend slash third wheel of the equation or you will just end up again getting off on fantasies of your best friend, that sure, feel great in the throws of passion, but after just make you even more depressed that this is what you are reduced to when it comes to having a decent sex life?
You could fantasize about Clark and Lex in bed together. With you maybe?
As intriguing of an idea that is, I think I would have to be drunk even to create that visual in my mind. Plus on the off change Clark ever does develop the power to read minds that is so not one I want to float through my mind at the inopportune time. That would be embarrassing.
It’s not like those other ideas that float through wouldn’t wig him out as well. The ones that pop up on a daily basis.
Shit. The stereo stopped. I can’t do this without a sound buffer. The last thing I want is for someone to figure what I’m doing in here. I don’t want to be labeled in my freshman year of college as “the loud masturbator of Woods Hall”. Where did I put that remote?
You realize this is sad. Yet again another Friday night. Date night. And you are home alone, masturbating instead of getting out there and experiencing life? In this, what is suppose to be the best times of your life?
I’m tired. I had a bad day and I just want a little orgasmic release before I start working on my rewrites of the power plant piece.
You mean lazy. You didn’t even take off your clothes or shower off the grime of the city first.
I thought you wanted me to be more dirty and just going with the flow of it. Get in the mood when it strikes.
There is dirty and dirrty. Grime is not sexy, especially in delicate body orifices.
Alright. I’ve found the damn remote and got it back on shuffle. Now lets get back the the subject at hand. No pun.
I don’t wanna.
WHAT?
I’m sick and tired of doing the same thing every friday night. I wanna go out.
I can’t believe my mind is refusing work.
I wanna go out. Meet cute boys. Make out. Get drunk. Do something I’ll possibly regret in the morning, but remember for a lifetime. Not think of school or the Planet or Smallville for at least 24 non sleeping hours.
So I give you a night out and you give me an orgasm? What if we don’t meet any cute boys to make out with or regret?
Then we try cute girls.
We tried that. Remember Mandy at summer camp when I was 14. Girls are too much hassle.
Ah right. Like boys are going so much better for us. How many have tried to kill us over the years?
Touche.
Nobody knows you better than your mind.
Alright mind. I’ll compromise. Get me off and I’ll get up off of this bed, shower and get tarted out and we will try to find some “person” to regret later. But only for 12 hours.
Deal.
Great. Now stop fighting with me and start fucking with me.
Ok. Who would you like to fuck?
How about Brad Pitt?
Brad Pitt. In Mr. & Mrs Smith. He’s got weapons. Lots of weapons.
Guns are not sexy.
His muscles are his weapons. His large rippling massive arms and chest. He uses them to fight and fuck. Remember that fighting scene in the movie between him and Angelina. One minute they are trying to kill each other and are fighting to the death and the next its passion city. They are going at it. Doing it in all that broken glass and ruins. Not caring if they hurt themselves, just wanting it so bad.
He left Jennifer for Angelina.
What?
Brad left Jen for Angie.
So?
Angie could give Brad what Jen couldn’t, so he just up’d and left her for something better and prettier around the corner.... Just like Clark left me at that dance all those years ago for Lana.
Argh. You realize you are so damaged. I know you are doing this on purpose.
What?
Trying to change the subject. Kill the mood. You are trying to renege on the deal.
No I’m not.
Hello. I’m you. You can’t fool me.
Ok so I was. But you know you could have given me a different visual than a husband who left his funny, but plain wife for the town beauty.
Jennifer isn’t plain.
Next to Angelina she is.
A Krispy Kreme donut covered in sprinkles is plain next to Angelina. You’ve just got to get over your Lana issues. This record is so broken, its like shattered.
I know.
Now quit the pity party and lets get down to business.
Ok.
Besides, what is lacked in the stunning beauty department, is more than made up for in the willingness to do kinky stuff department.
That is true.
I doubt Lana every even thought about going down on Clark in the back of a dark theater.
Or a in a musky old barn loft.
Right, or what he might taste like on our lips. Would he be bitter and salty like normal boys or would his alien DNA make him sweet like cream or butter.
Or does he even come. He could be like the energizer bunny. Just keeps going and going and going.
Bunnies fuck like crazy. All the time. Its like the only thing they do, besides eat carrots.
I would like to fuck Clark like crazy.
I can’t do this.
What?! No! A side from the carrot comment, we were finally heading somewhere I could work with, I know we said no more Clark fantasies, but if it works don’t go and try to fix it.
No. I was getting into the Clark idea too. Its just I refuse to make you come to Destiny’s Child.
Lana must have been messing with the discs again. Lemme find the remote again. Ok next disc.
Maroon 5. Much better. More suitable since its all about sex anyways.
Clark gave us this CD.
We should thank him for that. Maybe with a full body sponge bath.
I could go for that. Big bath tub, lots of bubbles and candle light. His skin slick with the water
and soap. My hand gliding over his firm arms and down his chest to the smattering of hair located right above his.
Ahem. I’m suppose to be doing this part. Me think, you work body. Ok?
Ok.
Or we could just tell him we need to test him. For scientific purposes. Make sure he can blend in with the human populis as well as possible. In case he’s ever in a situation where he needs to be naked and....well...fucked.
But he and Lana?
He and Lana probably didn’t last more than a few minutes at most. A few thrusts. She didn’t even come. She told you so. And like she would even know what to look for out of the normal.
Well her and Jason?
Wasn’t she like under a witches spell of some shit at that time?
I don’t recall.
She didn’t then come either. She’s probably frigid. Needs to masturbate more.
Well I definitely don’t have that problem. Ok less Lana, more naked Clark for my inspection.
He’s standing before you. You run your hands up his leg, starting at the ankle, over the back of his knees. He fights a bit there, he’s ticklish. You continue up the curvature of his thighs and buttocks, over his shorts, the hands meeting in the back at the waistband. You are on your knees in front of him. His dick right in front of you. You could give it a little hello kiss if you wanted. But that might scare him off. Slowly you raise your body up against him. He felt your breath against him as you stood up. You know he did because he let out a little gasp. Or maybe its because your fingertips are playing against his back slipping under his waistband in the back.
Let me have a moment. I’m gonna try that. Slowly move my hands up my legs. The back of the knees are ticklish. Over thighs and hips to the waistband of my panties.
Slowly slide them down your body, but leave them at your ankles. Just like you’re doing to Clark. You’re back on your knees again. In front of his dick. It’s cute. I know they aren’t suppose to be. Penises are manly and macho and are giving nicknames like Rex or Spike, but his is all pink and clean looking. You want to name it “George” and pet it and bath it and hug it and feed it.
To myself.
You lean in to smell it and it even smells cute. Like dust and flowers. It’s an itchy smell, kinda like you wanna sneeze, but the good sneeze feeling, not the snotty sneezing feeling.
xnay on the sneezing penis smell bit.
You’ve been looking a “George” for a bit and he’s starting to look stiff. Actually the harder you look at it, the harder “George” is getting. You look up at Clark and he’s watching you, watch him. You look back at “George” and he’s so hard he’s crying.
Don’t cry George.
You run your thumb over “George’s”s tip. Collecting his penis tears. You look up at Clark as you lick his taste off your thumb. How he taste?
Like my pussy, because that is the only place this thumb had been in the past few minutes.
Mind I know your are working overtime here, trying to get me off, but “penis tears?”, “George?”. No more trashy romance novels for you.
Would you prefer pre-cum and cock? Is that vulgar enough for you?
I don’t care. I just want to come and those words are only making me cringe. Enough with the foreplay. I’m ready for the big time. I want something I can feel. Let get down to it.
Fine. Clark super speeds off all your clothes and his clothes and he’s inside of you pounding away.
Romantic.
You made fun of my “penis tears”.
Actually you made fun of your own “penis tears”
Touche.
Give me something I can do with my hands.
Clark in front of you. His hands gliding over your skin. Over and under, touching everywhere. Exploring. He’s fixated with your breasts. Lets show him how we like our nipples played with. Fingertip dragged across it. Lace from the bra slightly irritating it. Making it harder. You like it hard. You like it pulled and rolled. First up, then down. He likes those little noises you are making. He’s wearing a smile and nothing else when he lowers his mouth to take in a nipple.
Enough with the boobs. Woman does not come from nipple play alone, plus i’m so wet here there is gonna be a puddle on my bed.
His other hand comes up from the thigh to the dampness between your legs. Damn, so wet and all for him. So wet you hear a groan of “Fuck” from him. You love it when Clark talks dirty. Makes him seem less perfect angel, more fallen man. He slips a hand finger inside.
Ohgodohgodohgod that feels good.
He’s trying to get it ready for him. He’s so much bigger than any one you've ever been with. Ok. Bigger than Jimmy.
Ixnay on the Immya.
He slides in another finger.
Ohgodohgodohgod
His thumb is resting against the clit. Just pressing up against is. Now he begins to move around it. Circle it. Once to the left. Once to the right. Right over the top of it.
Ohfuckohfuckohfuck.
So close, right on the edge. So close to coming and he know it, but he’s not gonna let you come yet?
WHAT!?
He’s a tease and he’s mean and selfish. He wants you to wait. Come with him. Buried deep inside you. He takes his fingers out and slides them up the wet slit to spread them. Wet fingers framing the clit.
OhgodohgodOhfuck I wanna come.
He looks deeply into your yes as he enters you. His blue eyes feel like fire. Not shooting fire “fire” but they.... Make you feel so hot. Oh god he’s beautiful. So beautiful you don’t wanna blink and miss a thing of this beautiful, perfect, fallen angel of man. And he’s so big. So full. You’ve never felt so full.
So full. So very very full.
And the son of a bitch is smirking at you. He’s taking pleasure in keeping it from you.
Bastard.
Well he’s just called you out with that smirk. Use your muscles and squeeze that imaginary big dick between your legs. Show him this isn’t some timid country girl he is trying to fuck with.
Kegels. They aren’t just for butt exercises anymore.
You are Chloe Sullivan. Experienced woman and journalist of the world and you are about to rock his.
Enough motivational speech mind, more big dicked country boy between my legs.
He’s gasping from the squeezes. He’s not gonna last long. He’s moving the fingers on either side of your clit. Once to the left. Once to the right. Across the top. Up. Down. Right. Left.
Oh fuck I’m gonna come.
Just a few seconds more. He lowers his head to take that nipple that’s been staring at him into his mouth. First he licks it. Then he kisses it, then he sucks it in and pulls it with his teeth.
OhfuckohfuckI’mgonnacome.
That’s it. You’ve found it. That part of the clit that gonna send you over. Lower left side. Lets see if we can make it to 10. One pass by the spot with your fingertip.
“Oh god!”
Ok. Well try for 7. Two. Pull up on the nipple like Clark’s mouth is on it, feeding from it.
“Oh fuck!”
Good, good. Three. This time use your fingernail just to graze it on the clit. Now squeeze Clark inside of you. He’s dropped your nipple from his mouth. “Oh god Chloe”. He’s coming.
“Fuck!”
Four. Can you feel it. He’s filling you. You did this to him. No one else. Use your thumb and go against the clit, down and slip inside you a bit. So wet. You couldn’t have made all that wetness yourself. It has to be Clark’s too. Clark’s mouth is against your ear, you can hear him and feel him breathing down your neck. “Chloe, come for me.”
“Clark!”
Not yet, Not yet. Just two more to go. Five. Squeeze him again. Feel his shudder against you. Run your fingers back up against the spot, up it. Oh god. So close.
“Ah.”
Breathe girl breathe, this is it. The last one. Six. You feel it, building inside of you. A fire. Wanting to get out and consume you and everything around you. You feel him on top of you, inside you. His weight against you, keeping you down his breath mingling with yours. He looks you deep in the eyes as you pass over that spot one. last. time. “Chloe. I love ...”
CRASH!
“Fuck!”
I rolled over as quickly as possible and fell off the bed. What a time not to have super speed, because I’m pretty sure the object of my masturbatory fantasies just broke down my dorm room door to find me masturbating.
Now you’re on your knees in front of Clark. Just facing the wrong way.
Oh god I hope he didn’t hear me say his name.
“I was walking across the quad and I heard you say my name in a weird voice and I thought...”
”So I ran over to make sure you weren’t...”
So much for that hope.
“I’ll just come back when you’ve finished. I mean, when you aren’t busy. I mean... later.”
Like I’m gonna be able to get back on track after that? He couldn’t have waited like 5 more seconds. Maybe he would like to help out?
Yeah and monkeys might fly outta my butt. The way I see it there are two ways to handle it and living under a rock is not really my best opinion so I’ll go for door number two and behave like an adult about this.
It's not like we’re a freak or anything. Everyone masturbates. It’s healthy. We’re just healthier than most.
Exactly, plus I’m still mostly dressed. All he could have seen was one boob and well ok all of my crotch.
What was that about living under a rock?
“I’m done, Clark. What do you want?”
“Are you sure? I’ll just come back later.”
“Lana’s out for the night, Clark. She won’t be back till tomorrow night.” Better get dressed back up.
“I didn’t come here to see Lana.”
That made me stop buttoning my shirt. “Oh really?”.
“Yeah I went by the Planet, they said you had went home early. I needed you to look into something on the Planet’s database about Milton Fine.”
“Oh. Of course.”
Back to dressing bucko.
“I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have busted in like that.”
“No you shouldn’t have, but what’s done it done.” Ok shirt. Buttoned. Skirt. Thankfully fell back down most of the way when I rolled / fell off the bed.
Classic Sullivan
Shut up, mind. Panties. Down around ankles. Fuck.
Let’s see you be discreet about that one.
Don’t have to be. I’m an adult. Adults sometimes have panties around their ankles.
“We can look into Fine some other day?”
“No Clark. The mood is ruined anyway.” I bent down took my panties off the rest of the way and threw them in the hamper. I turned around to face him to find him not looking at me, but the pair of underwear I had just thrown across the room.
So maybe we do have an effect on him.
Or maybe he’s just more like every other male on this planet.
“Clark?”
“Yeah.” He tore is gaze away from my underwear to look at me and immediately turned red. At least I’m not the only embarrassed person in my room tonight.
“Do you think you could put my door back where you found it? I kinda liked it there.” If it was possible, I think he turned even redder. “Let me just take a shower first and we’ll head out to the Planet.”
Hold on a minute there. We had a deal. Orgasm for night out on the town. Not night out with Clark playing research sidekick.
But we didn’t orgasm. No boom boom. No deal.
But we were so very, very close.
Close but no cigar.
You suck.
We’ve also swallowed, but we aren’t going there again.
I would like to shallow Cla..
“Chloe.” Clark had said my name and I could feel myself turn red at the ideas that had been
floating around my head. Thank goodness he couldn’t read minds.
“Yeah.”
“You just looked lost in thought for a moment.”
“Just having a fight with my mind.” I set about the room gathering clean clothes and my showering caddy. It was a bitch living in dorms sometimes. Communal bathrooms.
That shampoo bottle would sure do the trick right about now.
I finally had everything I needed and was about to leave when I realize my doorway was still blocked by Clark. He still hadn’t moved since he showed up and caught me. He was staring at my bed where I had been. You could see a slight impression of my ass in the quilt. The quilt his mother had given me. Oh shit. I hope he doesn’t tell his mom about this.
I seriously doubt that. “Hey Mom. Did you know Chloe thinks about me when she’s lonely and horny and touching herself on the quilt you gave her?
He’s like zoned out and I can practically hear the wheels in his head turning.
Maybe this will catalyst. The thing that finally gets him to stop thinking of us as his Gal Friday and more his Gal Friday Night. And Saturday Morning.
Mind, don’t get your hopes for anything. It only gets me broken.
Me too.
I brushed past him on the way to the bathroom.
“Hey Chlo.”
Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t ask.
“Yes Clark.”
You don’t feel it. It’s not there. That pull, that spark. It’s just in your mind.
You are my mind.
Oh yeah.
“When I heard you say my name, earlier...” “What I mean to say is....” “Do you often when you...”
Shit he’s asking. Play it cool Sullivan.
“Clark. Don’t be too flattered. I also thought about my shampoo bottle and Angelina Jolie before I got to you.” I turned away from him walked down the hall to the bathrooms.
Smooth Sullivan. Real smooth. Now whatever you do. Don’t turn around to see if he’s watching you.
I’ll do whatever you say, mind.
Day/Theme: 7/10 "The Woman In Me Shouts Out"
Series: Smallville
Character/Pairing: Chloe. Clark
Rating: NC-17, for harsh language and sexual images.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Don't sue.
Spoilers: Up to season 5. I haven't seen all the seasons yet, so if I'm off on something, somewhere. My apoligies and let me know so I can fix it. Unless it totally screws up the story. Because I kinda like it.
Dedicated to those times when your mind just won't do what or who you want it to. Parts in italics are basically the other part of Chloe's mind fighting with her. Apparently mind likes to ramble on.
It had been a very bad and stressful day. I was late to my Ethics in Journalism class, got a 14 out of 20 on my Western Civ midterm, and my Journalism professor felt the need to tell me and my entire class that my piece on the proposed coal fired power plant in nearby Ridgefield was sophomoric and too liberal for any but the op/eds. Even now I can hear his smug voice in my head. “No one wants to know your opinion on the matter Ms. Sullivan. They just want to know what it is gonna cost them in the long run in bills and taxes.” Then I get to work at the Planet to find out there was a small snafu with pictures and captions. Apparently the picture of the president of the Daughters of the American Revolution who died in a freak liposuction accident wasn’t Norman Vaughn, and the battle of Normandy survivor, who had succumbed to prostate cancer wasn’t Muffy Sampson, but that’s what it said in today’s obits and it was my signature on the ok’d proofs. I’m actually happy they sent me home. For once the Planet is the last place I really want to be.
My only saving grace for this day has been coming home to find my dorm room empty and a note from Lana saying not to wait up. She’s probably with Lex or something. I don’t get her sometimes or her taste in men. She likes them to the extreme. Extremely "Big Man on Campus", extremely mental. extremely sweet and now extremely bad boy.
Lex, Lex, Lex. Why are the bad boys always so sexy?
Lex has been like our older brother for years. I just don’t see the attraction,
outside the money, power, body, and knowledge of things boys our age only begin to know.
Yeah but that lack of hair thing just throws me off. Shallow I know.
I wonder if he’s hairless everywhere?
He reminds me of Mr. Clean with that chrome dome of his. And my shampoo bottle. Actually my shampoo bottle is quite phallic shaped.
You know a phallic shaped device might help right now?
I was almost too embarrassed to purchase it. I saw the way the store clerk looked at me. Single girl, buying shampoo at an all night drugstore. Hey its not my fault the best shampoo on the market is packaged like a penis.
Or maybe something with a motor? Running on double AA? Sure would give my hand a rest.
I wonder if Lex and Lana have had sex yet?
Don’t got there. That is not a visual you want. Lana in the throws of passion. .... ugh. She probably even comes politely and sweetly. Of course I seriously doubt Lex does anything having to do with sex polite or sweet.
Lex might be fun in bed. All that pent up rage and other issues coursing through his veins. Lex is definitely a more throw you up against the wall and fuck you blind kind of guy. Mr. Cuddly I do not see him being.
Totally not a Clark Kent.
She and Clark had sex. When he told me I tried to not let it on that it hurt.
Well its not like you waited for him either.
Going from Clark to Lex in a blink of weeks. Talk about your 180’s.
I wonder what sex with him was like?
Stop it. You are just gonna go down a road that you don’t like. Either you will end up going over it again, the whole crazy and weird Lana/Clark courtship and your place in it as the friend slash third wheel of the equation or you will just end up again getting off on fantasies of your best friend, that sure, feel great in the throws of passion, but after just make you even more depressed that this is what you are reduced to when it comes to having a decent sex life?
You could fantasize about Clark and Lex in bed together. With you maybe?
As intriguing of an idea that is, I think I would have to be drunk even to create that visual in my mind. Plus on the off change Clark ever does develop the power to read minds that is so not one I want to float through my mind at the inopportune time. That would be embarrassing.
It’s not like those other ideas that float through wouldn’t wig him out as well. The ones that pop up on a daily basis.
Shit. The stereo stopped. I can’t do this without a sound buffer. The last thing I want is for someone to figure what I’m doing in here. I don’t want to be labeled in my freshman year of college as “the loud masturbator of Woods Hall”. Where did I put that remote?
You realize this is sad. Yet again another Friday night. Date night. And you are home alone, masturbating instead of getting out there and experiencing life? In this, what is suppose to be the best times of your life?
I’m tired. I had a bad day and I just want a little orgasmic release before I start working on my rewrites of the power plant piece.
You mean lazy. You didn’t even take off your clothes or shower off the grime of the city first.
I thought you wanted me to be more dirty and just going with the flow of it. Get in the mood when it strikes.
There is dirty and dirrty. Grime is not sexy, especially in delicate body orifices.
Alright. I’ve found the damn remote and got it back on shuffle. Now lets get back the the subject at hand. No pun.
I don’t wanna.
WHAT?
I’m sick and tired of doing the same thing every friday night. I wanna go out.
I can’t believe my mind is refusing work.
I wanna go out. Meet cute boys. Make out. Get drunk. Do something I’ll possibly regret in the morning, but remember for a lifetime. Not think of school or the Planet or Smallville for at least 24 non sleeping hours.
So I give you a night out and you give me an orgasm? What if we don’t meet any cute boys to make out with or regret?
Then we try cute girls.
We tried that. Remember Mandy at summer camp when I was 14. Girls are too much hassle.
Ah right. Like boys are going so much better for us. How many have tried to kill us over the years?
Touche.
Nobody knows you better than your mind.
Alright mind. I’ll compromise. Get me off and I’ll get up off of this bed, shower and get tarted out and we will try to find some “person” to regret later. But only for 12 hours.
Deal.
Great. Now stop fighting with me and start fucking with me.
Ok. Who would you like to fuck?
How about Brad Pitt?
Brad Pitt. In Mr. & Mrs Smith. He’s got weapons. Lots of weapons.
Guns are not sexy.
His muscles are his weapons. His large rippling massive arms and chest. He uses them to fight and fuck. Remember that fighting scene in the movie between him and Angelina. One minute they are trying to kill each other and are fighting to the death and the next its passion city. They are going at it. Doing it in all that broken glass and ruins. Not caring if they hurt themselves, just wanting it so bad.
He left Jennifer for Angelina.
What?
Brad left Jen for Angie.
So?
Angie could give Brad what Jen couldn’t, so he just up’d and left her for something better and prettier around the corner.... Just like Clark left me at that dance all those years ago for Lana.
Argh. You realize you are so damaged. I know you are doing this on purpose.
What?
Trying to change the subject. Kill the mood. You are trying to renege on the deal.
No I’m not.
Hello. I’m you. You can’t fool me.
Ok so I was. But you know you could have given me a different visual than a husband who left his funny, but plain wife for the town beauty.
Jennifer isn’t plain.
Next to Angelina she is.
A Krispy Kreme donut covered in sprinkles is plain next to Angelina. You’ve just got to get over your Lana issues. This record is so broken, its like shattered.
I know.
Now quit the pity party and lets get down to business.
Ok.
Besides, what is lacked in the stunning beauty department, is more than made up for in the willingness to do kinky stuff department.
That is true.
I doubt Lana every even thought about going down on Clark in the back of a dark theater.
Or a in a musky old barn loft.
Right, or what he might taste like on our lips. Would he be bitter and salty like normal boys or would his alien DNA make him sweet like cream or butter.
Or does he even come. He could be like the energizer bunny. Just keeps going and going and going.
Bunnies fuck like crazy. All the time. Its like the only thing they do, besides eat carrots.
I would like to fuck Clark like crazy.
I can’t do this.
What?! No! A side from the carrot comment, we were finally heading somewhere I could work with, I know we said no more Clark fantasies, but if it works don’t go and try to fix it.
No. I was getting into the Clark idea too. Its just I refuse to make you come to Destiny’s Child.
Lana must have been messing with the discs again. Lemme find the remote again. Ok next disc.
Maroon 5. Much better. More suitable since its all about sex anyways.
Clark gave us this CD.
We should thank him for that. Maybe with a full body sponge bath.
I could go for that. Big bath tub, lots of bubbles and candle light. His skin slick with the water
and soap. My hand gliding over his firm arms and down his chest to the smattering of hair located right above his.
Ahem. I’m suppose to be doing this part. Me think, you work body. Ok?
Ok.
Or we could just tell him we need to test him. For scientific purposes. Make sure he can blend in with the human populis as well as possible. In case he’s ever in a situation where he needs to be naked and....well...fucked.
But he and Lana?
He and Lana probably didn’t last more than a few minutes at most. A few thrusts. She didn’t even come. She told you so. And like she would even know what to look for out of the normal.
Well her and Jason?
Wasn’t she like under a witches spell of some shit at that time?
I don’t recall.
She didn’t then come either. She’s probably frigid. Needs to masturbate more.
Well I definitely don’t have that problem. Ok less Lana, more naked Clark for my inspection.
He’s standing before you. You run your hands up his leg, starting at the ankle, over the back of his knees. He fights a bit there, he’s ticklish. You continue up the curvature of his thighs and buttocks, over his shorts, the hands meeting in the back at the waistband. You are on your knees in front of him. His dick right in front of you. You could give it a little hello kiss if you wanted. But that might scare him off. Slowly you raise your body up against him. He felt your breath against him as you stood up. You know he did because he let out a little gasp. Or maybe its because your fingertips are playing against his back slipping under his waistband in the back.
Let me have a moment. I’m gonna try that. Slowly move my hands up my legs. The back of the knees are ticklish. Over thighs and hips to the waistband of my panties.
Slowly slide them down your body, but leave them at your ankles. Just like you’re doing to Clark. You’re back on your knees again. In front of his dick. It’s cute. I know they aren’t suppose to be. Penises are manly and macho and are giving nicknames like Rex or Spike, but his is all pink and clean looking. You want to name it “George” and pet it and bath it and hug it and feed it.
To myself.
You lean in to smell it and it even smells cute. Like dust and flowers. It’s an itchy smell, kinda like you wanna sneeze, but the good sneeze feeling, not the snotty sneezing feeling.
xnay on the sneezing penis smell bit.
You’ve been looking a “George” for a bit and he’s starting to look stiff. Actually the harder you look at it, the harder “George” is getting. You look up at Clark and he’s watching you, watch him. You look back at “George” and he’s so hard he’s crying.
Don’t cry George.
You run your thumb over “George’s”s tip. Collecting his penis tears. You look up at Clark as you lick his taste off your thumb. How he taste?
Like my pussy, because that is the only place this thumb had been in the past few minutes.
Mind I know your are working overtime here, trying to get me off, but “penis tears?”, “George?”. No more trashy romance novels for you.
Would you prefer pre-cum and cock? Is that vulgar enough for you?
I don’t care. I just want to come and those words are only making me cringe. Enough with the foreplay. I’m ready for the big time. I want something I can feel. Let get down to it.
Fine. Clark super speeds off all your clothes and his clothes and he’s inside of you pounding away.
Romantic.
You made fun of my “penis tears”.
Actually you made fun of your own “penis tears”
Touche.
Give me something I can do with my hands.
Clark in front of you. His hands gliding over your skin. Over and under, touching everywhere. Exploring. He’s fixated with your breasts. Lets show him how we like our nipples played with. Fingertip dragged across it. Lace from the bra slightly irritating it. Making it harder. You like it hard. You like it pulled and rolled. First up, then down. He likes those little noises you are making. He’s wearing a smile and nothing else when he lowers his mouth to take in a nipple.
Enough with the boobs. Woman does not come from nipple play alone, plus i’m so wet here there is gonna be a puddle on my bed.
His other hand comes up from the thigh to the dampness between your legs. Damn, so wet and all for him. So wet you hear a groan of “Fuck” from him. You love it when Clark talks dirty. Makes him seem less perfect angel, more fallen man. He slips a hand finger inside.
Ohgodohgodohgod that feels good.
He’s trying to get it ready for him. He’s so much bigger than any one you've ever been with. Ok. Bigger than Jimmy.
Ixnay on the Immya.
He slides in another finger.
Ohgodohgodohgod
His thumb is resting against the clit. Just pressing up against is. Now he begins to move around it. Circle it. Once to the left. Once to the right. Right over the top of it.
Ohfuckohfuckohfuck.
So close, right on the edge. So close to coming and he know it, but he’s not gonna let you come yet?
WHAT!?
He’s a tease and he’s mean and selfish. He wants you to wait. Come with him. Buried deep inside you. He takes his fingers out and slides them up the wet slit to spread them. Wet fingers framing the clit.
OhgodohgodOhfuck I wanna come.
He looks deeply into your yes as he enters you. His blue eyes feel like fire. Not shooting fire “fire” but they.... Make you feel so hot. Oh god he’s beautiful. So beautiful you don’t wanna blink and miss a thing of this beautiful, perfect, fallen angel of man. And he’s so big. So full. You’ve never felt so full.
So full. So very very full.
And the son of a bitch is smirking at you. He’s taking pleasure in keeping it from you.
Bastard.
Well he’s just called you out with that smirk. Use your muscles and squeeze that imaginary big dick between your legs. Show him this isn’t some timid country girl he is trying to fuck with.
Kegels. They aren’t just for butt exercises anymore.
You are Chloe Sullivan. Experienced woman and journalist of the world and you are about to rock his.
Enough motivational speech mind, more big dicked country boy between my legs.
He’s gasping from the squeezes. He’s not gonna last long. He’s moving the fingers on either side of your clit. Once to the left. Once to the right. Across the top. Up. Down. Right. Left.
Oh fuck I’m gonna come.
Just a few seconds more. He lowers his head to take that nipple that’s been staring at him into his mouth. First he licks it. Then he kisses it, then he sucks it in and pulls it with his teeth.
OhfuckohfuckI’mgonnacome.
That’s it. You’ve found it. That part of the clit that gonna send you over. Lower left side. Lets see if we can make it to 10. One pass by the spot with your fingertip.
“Oh god!”
Ok. Well try for 7. Two. Pull up on the nipple like Clark’s mouth is on it, feeding from it.
“Oh fuck!”
Good, good. Three. This time use your fingernail just to graze it on the clit. Now squeeze Clark inside of you. He’s dropped your nipple from his mouth. “Oh god Chloe”. He’s coming.
“Fuck!”
Four. Can you feel it. He’s filling you. You did this to him. No one else. Use your thumb and go against the clit, down and slip inside you a bit. So wet. You couldn’t have made all that wetness yourself. It has to be Clark’s too. Clark’s mouth is against your ear, you can hear him and feel him breathing down your neck. “Chloe, come for me.”
“Clark!”
Not yet, Not yet. Just two more to go. Five. Squeeze him again. Feel his shudder against you. Run your fingers back up against the spot, up it. Oh god. So close.
“Ah.”
Breathe girl breathe, this is it. The last one. Six. You feel it, building inside of you. A fire. Wanting to get out and consume you and everything around you. You feel him on top of you, inside you. His weight against you, keeping you down his breath mingling with yours. He looks you deep in the eyes as you pass over that spot one. last. time. “Chloe. I love ...”
CRASH!
“Fuck!”
I rolled over as quickly as possible and fell off the bed. What a time not to have super speed, because I’m pretty sure the object of my masturbatory fantasies just broke down my dorm room door to find me masturbating.
Now you’re on your knees in front of Clark. Just facing the wrong way.
Oh god I hope he didn’t hear me say his name.
“I was walking across the quad and I heard you say my name in a weird voice and I thought...”
”So I ran over to make sure you weren’t...”
So much for that hope.
“I’ll just come back when you’ve finished. I mean, when you aren’t busy. I mean... later.”
Like I’m gonna be able to get back on track after that? He couldn’t have waited like 5 more seconds. Maybe he would like to help out?
Yeah and monkeys might fly outta my butt. The way I see it there are two ways to handle it and living under a rock is not really my best opinion so I’ll go for door number two and behave like an adult about this.
It's not like we’re a freak or anything. Everyone masturbates. It’s healthy. We’re just healthier than most.
Exactly, plus I’m still mostly dressed. All he could have seen was one boob and well ok all of my crotch.
What was that about living under a rock?
“I’m done, Clark. What do you want?”
“Are you sure? I’ll just come back later.”
“Lana’s out for the night, Clark. She won’t be back till tomorrow night.” Better get dressed back up.
“I didn’t come here to see Lana.”
That made me stop buttoning my shirt. “Oh really?”.
“Yeah I went by the Planet, they said you had went home early. I needed you to look into something on the Planet’s database about Milton Fine.”
“Oh. Of course.”
Back to dressing bucko.
“I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have busted in like that.”
“No you shouldn’t have, but what’s done it done.” Ok shirt. Buttoned. Skirt. Thankfully fell back down most of the way when I rolled / fell off the bed.
Classic Sullivan
Shut up, mind. Panties. Down around ankles. Fuck.
Let’s see you be discreet about that one.
Don’t have to be. I’m an adult. Adults sometimes have panties around their ankles.
“We can look into Fine some other day?”
“No Clark. The mood is ruined anyway.” I bent down took my panties off the rest of the way and threw them in the hamper. I turned around to face him to find him not looking at me, but the pair of underwear I had just thrown across the room.
So maybe we do have an effect on him.
Or maybe he’s just more like every other male on this planet.
“Clark?”
“Yeah.” He tore is gaze away from my underwear to look at me and immediately turned red. At least I’m not the only embarrassed person in my room tonight.
“Do you think you could put my door back where you found it? I kinda liked it there.” If it was possible, I think he turned even redder. “Let me just take a shower first and we’ll head out to the Planet.”
Hold on a minute there. We had a deal. Orgasm for night out on the town. Not night out with Clark playing research sidekick.
But we didn’t orgasm. No boom boom. No deal.
But we were so very, very close.
Close but no cigar.
You suck.
We’ve also swallowed, but we aren’t going there again.
I would like to shallow Cla..
“Chloe.” Clark had said my name and I could feel myself turn red at the ideas that had been
floating around my head. Thank goodness he couldn’t read minds.
“Yeah.”
“You just looked lost in thought for a moment.”
“Just having a fight with my mind.” I set about the room gathering clean clothes and my showering caddy. It was a bitch living in dorms sometimes. Communal bathrooms.
That shampoo bottle would sure do the trick right about now.
I finally had everything I needed and was about to leave when I realize my doorway was still blocked by Clark. He still hadn’t moved since he showed up and caught me. He was staring at my bed where I had been. You could see a slight impression of my ass in the quilt. The quilt his mother had given me. Oh shit. I hope he doesn’t tell his mom about this.
I seriously doubt that. “Hey Mom. Did you know Chloe thinks about me when she’s lonely and horny and touching herself on the quilt you gave her?
He’s like zoned out and I can practically hear the wheels in his head turning.
Maybe this will catalyst. The thing that finally gets him to stop thinking of us as his Gal Friday and more his Gal Friday Night. And Saturday Morning.
Mind, don’t get your hopes for anything. It only gets me broken.
Me too.
I brushed past him on the way to the bathroom.
“Hey Chlo.”
Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t ask.
“Yes Clark.”
You don’t feel it. It’s not there. That pull, that spark. It’s just in your mind.
You are my mind.
Oh yeah.
“When I heard you say my name, earlier...” “What I mean to say is....” “Do you often when you...”
Shit he’s asking. Play it cool Sullivan.
“Clark. Don’t be too flattered. I also thought about my shampoo bottle and Angelina Jolie before I got to you.” I turned away from him walked down the hall to the bathrooms.
Smooth Sullivan. Real smooth. Now whatever you do. Don’t turn around to see if he’s watching you.
I’ll do whatever you say, mind.