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Lois always prided herself with being, oftentimes or not, the smartest person in a room.
Especially when it came to journalism, when it came to reporting and when it came down to knowing what the hell to do in a situation with a pen, paper, and the next biggest headline.
And the thing about Lois? Is that she was cocky about it. But not cocky in the “I’m gonna be an asshole to your face” kind of cocky— no, it was worse, it’s a patronizing kind of attitude. Like she knows she’s the best in the room and makes the younger interns know a lot about it but isn’t shy to treat them… not as less reporters, obviously, but not as skilled. And it’s mainly because she’s not trying to gas them up too hard and let them have a big ass ego right off the jump; you have to earn that ego in the Daily Planet bullpen— most of them need to be humbled in the first place anyway. So Lois Lane does that humbling, with a smile on her face.
And that’s what Clark loves about her.
He loves her kind of ‘spitfire’ energy. Her kind of know it all attitude she has when she steps into that bullpen and knows everything about everyone’s assignment. It’s like watching an army general round up his soldiers, just in this case; it’s one strong woman making sure everyone is doing what they need to be doing.
She helps out with the interns, teaching them the ways of journalism, the same way she helps the pros and the veterans gather evidence for a specific issue.
But that’s where Clark loves to break her as well; obviously not in a mind altering way, he doesn’t even think with all the powers in the Kryptonian history he could ever want to mentally warp Lois Lane… but rather, in a sexier, bedroom type of way.
Because even in bed, Lois has a mouth on her— not that he’s complaining about it, he fucking loves that shit. He loves the way she mouths off to him sometimes, the way she can get so rough during hard periods of time when stress levels are at an all time high. Like that one time she was pissed at him for interrupting a stakeout in downtown Gotham because he wanted to eat her ass, so she yanked on his hair as he did it— still got the evidence she needed though! That’s just the way his pretty girl is.
So of course, when the night gets perfect and things fall into place; this situation happens.
The sheets were a mess, clothes piling up on the floor and the smell of sex filling the bedroom as Clark has Lois right where he wants her to be.
Laying in bed on her stomach, her right cheek pressed into the pillow as breaths leave her mouth in soft and shaky little bursts every single time his balls slapped against her clit. Her legs are spread— well… barley, but it’s not directly her fault, it’s as much as she can manage— because one of Clark’s massive hands (the one with the wedding ring on) is wrapped happily around her waist, pulling her back onto him as each snap of his hips pushes her further and further away from him due to the force of each thrust.
He takes turns looking at her face beautifully morphing in pleasure due to his cock and looking at his cock thrusting in and out of her sobbing cunt, also taking the chance to see her ass bounce with each piston of his hips.
Let’s just put it gently; Lois is already gone.
She was far gone after the first orgasm with his mouth— which he decided to be an asshole and use his ice breath as well because apparently mouthing off to Superman about some “you almost got yourself killed!” in front of Green Lantern and Booster Gold (who agreed with her, by the way) was a good idea— and the second orgasm, the first one with his cock in missionary with her legs on his shoulders, got her to this state of mind.
Clark was already smug after the first orgasm, but now? Oh he’s fucking over the moon. Smug, pussy-drunk Clark “husband who happens to love seeing his wife all apart on his cock” Kent, knows she’s already gone. He can see her eyes roll back, the way her fingers clench onto the bedsheets for any resemblance of grounding.
And that little part of his brain who reads too much Playboy as a teenager and learns how to dirty talk a little too good? He decides to take control. “You like this, baby?” He asks, his left hand remaining on her waist as his right one squeezes the back of her thigh. “Like my dick fucking you like this?”
Lois hears him, but can’t respond, a mess on him. She nods though, hair sticking to her forehead. Honestly she hasn’t felt this good for so long— work stuff and the world decided they needed her husband more than her, so she’s enjoying every single inch of his cock that she could— so she doesn’t choose to respond with words.
And Clark doesn’t like that. Not one bit. So instead of slapping her ass and getting frustrated; he decides to be… a cocky asshole about it.
Even worse; a patronizing, cocky asshole about it.
Clark leans down over her, his chest pressing onto her back as he presses a soft kiss to the back of her neck before leaning over to her right ear, his lips brushing over the skin as he kisses it and backs up, purposely grinding deep enough into her cunt to rub against her walls perfectly, feeling her toes curl against his thighs.
“Hun.” He murmurs, voice low and infuriatingly self-satisfied directly in her ear, which makes a shiver shoot down her spine, and her pussy to flutter. “You look so pretty like this.” He says, completely lost for a second before re-gaining his composure. “Got a question for you.”
Lois whimpers as a response; and Lois Lane never whimpers, even for her husband.
And Clark is already smiling like a dumbass, so he knows he’s in the best position. “What is the first step…” He begins, dragging his cock out of her slowly and he makes sure she feels every one of his rock hard eight inches drag out of her cunt, only to slam back into her with a hard enough thrust that the headboard slams against the wall as well, hearing her moan into the mattress. “In investigative reporting? According to you?”
Oh you fucking asshole. Lois thinks to herself— all because she questions his abilities at reporting once, now he has to ask her this. She goes to open her mouth… but nothing, except a breathless moan, leaves her mouth instead of the words she would use to bite back at him.
Clark laughs under his breath, shaking his head as he continues to move; steady and deep, each one of his thrusts knocking another thought right out of her skull and instead his name falling from her lips. “Come on, Pulitzer Prize winner.” He teases, lifting his right hand to twirl a piece of her black hair around his finger. “You know this one, I know you know it.”
Her fingers claw helplessly at the silk sheets under them, trying to manage any words possible. “S-Ss…start…” She gets out, voice cracking in the middle of the second word. She’s usually quick on her feet, but that’s when she’s empty and doesn’t have an eight inch Kryptonian cock fucking stretching her open.
“Start with what, hun?” Clark purrs, clicking his tongue and giving her another thrust, one so hard that shoves her up the bed an inch, that of course, he brings her back down and presses on the bulge in her abdomen. “Use your words, baby, lemme hear them.”
She tries. God knows she tries, because Lois does not lose— especially when she has Clark’s smug ass whispering in her ear, but the problem? Her brain is complete mush at this point, her body is full of pleasure, and she can’t fucking think when she has her husband drilling his cock into her like this. And yet, she tries. “T-Th— The…” She grunts when he hits her g-spot, making her clench her fingers harder and toes curl. “S-Start by al— always knowing y’your source…!”
Clark smiles. “Good girl.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to her cheek as the praise hits her deep— deeper than his cock.
A raw moan spills out of her as he decides to pick up the pace, the bed creaking with every time he drives deeper and deeper into her.
“Alright, baby, next step.” Clark begins; and she already wants to scream at him, kiss him, and bite him all at the same time because fuck, he’s cocky for someone who whimpers like a bitch when she gives him a handjob. Where he gets this confidence, Lois doesn’t know, but apparently her pussy gives him this confidence. “What’s step two in Lois Lane’s steps to investigative journalism?”
Lois shakes her head desperately, almost to rescramble and try to remember. Her eyes squeeze shut as her mouth hangs open in a silent plea, broken moans leaving her lips. “C-Clark… oh fuck…!”
His balls clench at the sounds of her moans, his right hand on the middle of her spine; in between her shoulder blades, gently pushes her down into the mattress, pining her down and giving him a leverage point to thrust harder and faster. He sees her nails begin to make definitive claw marks in the sheets, babbling nonsense into the pillow as he speaks above her. “C’mon, sweetheart, I know you know this one… what’s step two?”
Lois tries again, to remember and find the words, it’s hard but she tries. “U-Uh— oh fuck! Fuck! D-Do whatever it- it— shittttt, it takes t-to get t’he story.” She manages to get out, words meshing together as each filling of his dick pushes her further and further into the sea of stimulation.
But Clark slows down, like a fucking asshole.
“Cl-Clark, keep g’going, oh fuck.” Lois begs, finding herself close to her orgasm, and at that, Clark squeezes her hips.
“I don’t think you realized, hun.” He whispers, looking down at her ass and letting spit collect in his mouth before spitting downwards, the drop of his spit falling in between her asscheeks and lathering his cock. “But that ain’t step two… that’s step three, sweetheart.”
Lois groans, in large part due to Clark’s cocky fucking attidude about it, but mostly because he slowed down. He was at a consistent rhythm and now, he’s slowed down, purposely punishing her for something he caused (by the way).
“C’mon, Lo.” He encourages, slowing his thrusts but continuing to hit her deep. “I know you remember.”
“C-Can’t— oh fuck!” Lois sobs out, completely and utterly wrecked at this point, body so pleased that she can barely speak. “Clark— Clark, oh fuck, I-I can’t— to’too full.”
He groans when he hears it; in some ways, hearing her break around his dick is the hottest thing in the world to him. “That’s okay, sweetheart.” He breathes, leaning in and kissing her shoulder as he extends his arm, getting an angle and pounding into her harder and faster than before, hearing her heartbeat accelerate when he is going faster, his voice thick and full of adoration and lust. “You don’t have to answer…” He says, suspiciously gentle.
And before she could even guess what the hell he was going to do; his left hand unwraps from her waist and slides in between her thighs, his thick fingers finding her clit and beginning to rub tight circles in between her sobbing folds, using his super speed to help him.
Almost as punishment but also acceptance at the fact that his cock caused her to forget.
It causes Lois to scream his name into the mattress, muffled and tears prick from her eyes. She inadvertently grinds against his hand which only doubles the pleasure for her and brings a smile to his lips again.
“I’ve got you, hun.” He murmurs again, kissing her shoulder as he rocks into her with that perfect, punishing rhythm that gives her no space to breathe as each thrust ruins her further and further. “Just let me fuck the rest of those thoughts right out of that brilliant pretty head of yours.”
She can’t even tell him to stop being so damn patronizing because she’s too busy gasping his name over and over again, each one more shattered than the last.
Clark— smug as quick as ever, so in love that he can’t help himself, kisses her cheek, pushing her hair off her face with a gentle breath, seeing it push back. “That’s it.” He encourages, rubbing her harder and harder as his knees dig into the mattress, the wet slaps of his cock meeting her pussy get faster and faster. “That’s my baby… fucked dumb and perfect… letting me ruin this pretty pussy all because you decide to mouth off to me.”
Okay, now he’s definitely getting overstimulated when she’s going to jerk him off in the Superman suit— and she’s going to continue when his cock is red and he’s begging that he doesn’t have any more cum to give— but that’s for another day. Right now, Lois is on a different planet of pleasure.
“Clark! O’Oh fuck! Clark!” She moans, cracking her eyes open to see his smug ass face. His curls bounce with each thrust, his furrowed brow and his blue eyes looking at her with gentle love despite the complete opposite his cock is doing.
He nods his head seeing her look at him, leaning in and placing a kiss on her lips, being broken half way through by his own thrust. “Feel good baby? Bet this pussy gonna feel better when it’s stuffed with my cum? Yeah?” At his words, she flutters around him, and he can’t help but smile. “I think she likes the sound of that.”
“D-Don’t call— fuckkkk! Don’t call my pussy a-a she, asshole.” Lois whimpers, moaning as her right hand leaves the sheets and digs into his abs, dragging down his skin.
He moans at the feeling but smiles as he tries his hardest to tone down his regeneration for a temporary moment to truly feel the pain that comes with Lois Lane dragging her nails down his skin. He loves the feeling of it. “Oh don’t be like that sweetheart.” He tries, kissing her again and hearing her sputter out a curse against his lips. “You know you like it; besides, it’s not like she has any issue with it.”
And as much as Lois would like to prove him wrong…she clenches around him again and how could she argue with that? Not when he laughs in her ear and sends her over the edge.