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Lex doesn’t remember whose idea it was. Not exactly.
It starts with an off hand comment from Chloe. An observation on how Clark never gets drunk. This makes that all familiar little furrow set between her brows. Her face pinches in an almost painful look of concentration. Her blue eyes glow as she starts to try and solve the newest case of Clark’s weird.
“What if you can’t get drunk?” She asks.
The corners of her mouth pull down in a sort of pained frown. As if Clark’s supposed inability to feel the effects of alcohol hurt her heart.
“Which makes sense, I guess.” She waves her hand impassively. “Invulnerable to a bullet, so invulnerable to the slow and pleasurable poisoning of your choice of alcoholic beverage.”
Lex snorts. He’s currently preoccupied with flipping through one of Clark’s books. Interest piqued by the annotations and highlights. Because it wasn’t strictly for school, or rather, the year written on the inside cover meant Clark had read this book in class nearly four years prior. Yet it stayed at his desk at The Torch. Spine cracked, pages worn and full of notes and highlights from numerous writing utensils. A well loved novel.
Clark glares at Lex as if his snort had hurt his feelings. “Maybe I don’t wanna be drunk.”
“Because Clark Kent is too demure to get shitfaced with his friends? Or because you’re too scared to really let loose?” Chloe asks. All brazen delivery and genuine interest.
If there was one thing Lex admired about her it was that no matter what she says and how it affects those around her, it is all for the love of knowledge. Never with cruel intent. It’s a beautiful thing. In another life she would have made a hell of a scientist.
“Getting drunk isn’t all it's cracked up to be,” Lex says. Almost lazily as he thumbs to the next page of To Kill a Mockingbird, his heart swells in a way he does not appreciate as he sees Clark’s notes on innocence both in children and abuse victims.
Chloe shoots him a glare. “Not helping Mr. Drunk and Disorderly.”
Lex’s heart does another thing that makes him frown. They were making him soft. Nicknames and all.
“Hey,” Clark all but whines, his bottom lip juts out in a pout that’s positively sinful. “Don’t be rude.”
Lex’s ears are tinged pink as he pretends to be fully engrossed in the novel again.
“He likes it,” Chloe says. She winks at Lex, her smile all humor and sparkling blue eyes.
Lex snorts again.
“I’m just saying-“ Chloe starts tapping away at the computer in front of her “-I bet there’s an underlying reason behind you being able to down ten tequila shots in a row and still be DD.”
Clark only shrugs. “I’ve only had like two and they were gross.”
Chloe rolls her eyes. “My point, Clark, is that your biology is affecting you in a way that might only be a side effect of some other process. And I in all my benevolent ways am going to find the answer.”
This makes Clark turn to look at Lex. They both smile and Clark starts laughing. Chloe huffs a breath that sends her wispy bangs flying as she grumbles something about ungrateful teenage boys.
Lex only smiles fondly at them. Clark perched on the edge of Chloe’s desk. Seemingly not at all displeased that Lex is at his desk, rifling through his things. If anything the little fond glances he shoots towards Lex as he does so is a sort of invitation. But no- Lex squashes that down, he understands the difference between wishful thinking and reality.
The conversation drifts in as Lex half listens. Chloe becomes the vehicle for an endless barrage of questions. Even half paying attention Lex can recognize her attempts to break down Clark’s metabolic rate. Like recognizes like.
But it is Pete and Lana that make Clark himself get invested.
The whole group is over at Chloe’s. Under the guise of a Torch meeting. Lana and Lex were involved due to The Talon swooping in with a sponsorship that allowed Chloe to let her Meteor Mutant Freak flag fly high. And let them all help Clark work through his feelings of responsibility for the mutants by helping find and rehabilitate them. Before they are made unstable by the effects of the glowing rocks.
Not that these meetings have much to do with their group investigations. They are more often than not an excuse to get them all together on a Wednesday afternoon. One that sees a scored box of white wine being shared amongst them in embossed lime green glasses.
Lex is perched on a fuzzy pink chair, holding his glass primly, he sips at the cheap approximation of wine. While his friends were lounged out across other various pieces of furniture.
Clark and Chloe in the bed, their legs intertwined as she chews on the eraser of her pencil, eyes narrow as she edits some article he’s written. Lana and Pete lounge on the shag carpet, that matches the monstrosity of a chair Lex is sitting in. They are propped up with bright neon throw pillows as they flip through the latest issue of Teen Vogue.
All of them are half tipsy. Except Clark who had poured himself apple juice as a way of participating.
“Oh!” Lana’s excited, her cheeks tinged pink and eyes gleam as she motions to whatever page her and Pete are on.
Lex has to admit he’s fallen lax in keeping up with fashion until these little events came into his life. And now his wardrobe is back to where it had been when he was still on the Metropolis clubbing scene.
“Clark would look good in this,” Lana says, half devious. As she lifts the magazine up off the carpet so everyone can see.
Lex hates the way his agreement sticks in his throat. Suffocatingly sweet.
Clark looks shy, thick eyelashes brush at his cheekbones as he glances down at his arms. Ears tinged pink. “Me in leather?”
Chloe snorts. “Not wholesome enough, methinks.”
“Clark would look good in anything,” Pete says simply. He takes another drink of his wine and seems to mull this information over. Then he grins just like Lana as he motions to the slip dress worn by the female model on the same page. “He’d look hot in that one though.”
This burns through Lex like a hot brand, seared into him forever, marring his flesh. The thought of Clark, strong bulging muscles, thick thighs and coily hair, covered in black silk- all exposed hot skin.
Lex watches as Lana’s bright green eyes gleam with a new found heat, mirroring Lex’s own desire, as they snap to Clark. Her glossy pink lips part slightly as she takes in the beauty that is Clark Kent lounged out on green and pink bedding. The look on her face, the utter desire and longing, makes an angry vengeful ache start in Lex’s chest. It’s so all consuming he has to avert his eyes and take another long sip of boxed wine, grip on his glass so tight the pattern is undoubtedly indented into his palm.
“He would,” Lana says, voice all breathy. “Like- so hot.”
Pete is giggling now. “He’d need a new pair of shoes too.”
“Wait,” Lana starts flipping pages in earnest. “Remember those heels a few pages back.”
“Red and black,” Pete says in a conspiratorial tone.
Lex feels like he might implode. Jealousy and desire twist all too familiar in his gut. Two feelings he had no right having.
Clark’s cheeks are crimson as he rolls his eyes at them. “I wouldn’t be able to walk in those.”
“You wouldn’t have to,” Lana says sweetly. “Just sit there and look pretty.”
Clark makes a sound that could be some sort of protest or more possibly a whine. Neither good for Lex’s blood pressure as he squeezes his glass so tight he’s sure it’s going to shatter in his hand, cut his palm much like the searing pain that feels like it’s carving through his chest.
It’s all too much when Clark looks to Lex, seaglass eyes search for some sort of camaraderie as he juts his bottom lip out in soft little pout.
“Tell them that thing wouldn’t fit my shoulders-“ Clark all but whines, voice high pitched and demanding.
Lex steels himself with a deep breath. Hates the way Lana’s green eyes sparkle as she takes him in, the way Chloe just rolls hers with an exasperated laugh while Pete convulses into a fit of giggles. Somehow Lex was in hell, and it was with a room full of tipsy teenagers who could read him too well, and he didn’t know when he let that happen.
“Lana has a point, Clark.” He teases, shocked by the smoothness of his own voice. All velvet and controlled even tones, nothing like the heartbeat that thuds in his chest. A heartbeat Clark could be all too aware of. “You’ve definitely got the legs for heels.”
Lana lets out a highpitched squeal, fully delighted. She clamps her hand down over her mouth, almost afraid of her own delight, or just shocked at how tipsy she actually is from a few glasses of cheap wine.
Clark’s eyes get impossibly bigger as his face falls into a wounded expression. One that usually has everyone in the room tripping over themselves to apologize, big wet eyes and a pout to die for. “You guys are impossible.”
Lana tries to sober up, her face going all serious as she levels Clark with a meaningful look in her green eyes. “Sorry, Clarkie.”
Lex snorts. He pretends to cough when Clark shoots him a soft glare.
“It’s just-” Lana gives him a weak smile “-we’re tipsy and silly. It’s too bad you can’t join us- I bet you’d be just as giggly thinking about Lex in a dress.”
She licks her lips at this, and it's almost too much for Lex to handle. That paired with the way Clark’s beautiful blue-green eyes seem to be swallowed whole by the black of desire. Well, Lex has never felt weaker in his knees, it was a good thing he was sitting down. Though reality was at best questionable, since he was a few glasses into a wine that had the faint flavor of rubbing alcohol.
Pete frowns. “A tragedy!”
Lana turns to him and bursts out laughing again. Her cheeks even more rosy as she leans her forehead into his shoulder. “Lex or Clark?”
“Clark,” he admonishes, the name drawn out on his tongue. “He could be silly with us- down here.”
Lana hums, fully leaning into Pete as she draws their attention back to the magazine by tapping a perfectly manicured finger against the glossy print. “Do you wanna take the ‘is he into you?’ quiz?”
Pete laughs, cheeks flushing, but he doesn’t protest. In fact he thoughtfully mulls over his answers. The two of them seem to revel in being tipsy.
Lex stares into his glass, afraid to look at either object of his desire. Afraid his resolve might crack and they’ll become all too aware of what he wants. And oh, he wants.
Clark shows up at the mansion the next week. All shyness and his most soft and demure voice. His lashes drag sinfully at his cheekbones as he stares down at his worn sneakers. He asks Lex if being drunk is truly such a worthwhile experience. And in asking that question, Clark seals Lex’s fate, sees them to the present moment.
A moment that has required all the right dominos to fall into place. Has required multiple trials and errors.
They had experimented with Clark drinking with Kryptonite stored at various distances from him. Had him consume alcohol with a content ratio that was banned in multiple countries. None of which had worked.
It was some sort of cruel twist of fate, a joke of the universe. That when they found the equation that would do the trick it would be when Chloe is busy and when Pete has to leave early because his parents didn’t like how much time he spent on Luthor property. That it’s late on a Friday night, just Lex and the two objects of his desire, and a crackling fireplace.
Clark smiles at his glass, his expression is softer at the edges, alcohol making him tipsy and more open. The pink liquid sparkles a soft red, from the ground down Kryptonite, just a small pinch in each drink. Alcohol itself so Clark could experience the flavor that went with it, the burn that turned pleasant once the buzz set in.
“Who’d’ve thought?" He says, voice thick. Not so much slurred as thick with an accent he usually suppressed around Lex.
“A tipsy Clark Kent? Or that your drink of choice would be some pink concoction Lana put together on a whim?” Lex asks.
He downs another two fingers of bourbon. Revels in the burn of it. Chases the drunk feel that will allow him to fully repress the heat mixing low in his stomach at the carefree expression on Clark’s face, at the way he keeps touching Lana. How easily she melts into him, her laughs and the soft gleam in her eyes every time she locks eyes with Lex.
They are trying to kill him, he thinks, as he refills his glass. A local whiskey, probably a bad idea. But Lex is always really good at those, and it isn’t like he’d had anything stronger than hard liquor since moving to Smallville.
“Both?” Clark gives him a cheeky smile. There’s almost a flirtatious edge to it.
This side of Clark Kent is decidedly dangerous. For Lex’s attempts at being enshrined in sainthood at least.
“I for one wouldn’t have assumed you’d be a tequila girl,” Lana teases, even as she mixes them both another drink.
Lex had gone all out. A fully stocked bar cart with everything one could dream of for mixing drinks, another passion Lana had started to develop, which Lex is sure he isn't supposed to be indulging. Yet here they are.
“Not my fault vodka smells like rubbing alcohol,” Clark says, almost briskly.
He moves up behind Lana at the cart, body all but enveloping her. His hands at the top of her hips, palms so wide they all but wrap around her entire frame.
“Can’t argue with that,” Lana says.
She keeps adding pink lemonade to two glasses, pretending to be completely unphased by the press of Clark at her back. Lex knows better though, can all but sense the way her focus is split between Clark and her task. Something in her posture subtly shifted.
“I’d offer you bourbon, but I have a hunch you wouldn’t be keen on that either,” Lex says, silky smooth as he settles back into his armchair. He takes a small sip of his whiskey and lets his gaze linger where their bodies connect.
Clark hums softly in acknowledgment of Lex, his big hands slide across Lana’s stomach. He props his chin on top of her head, like a begging sheep dog. Lana only giggles as she adds tequila to both their glasses.
“You’re very touchy feely, Clark,” she practically breathes out, her small frame fitted to Clark’s chest, it makes something Lex dare not name stir in his gut.
“Mhmmm,” Clark hums.
His too large hands slide across the thin material of her blue dress to grab at her hips. There’s a power in his grip that has Lex’s throat go completely dry.
Lana’s breath hitches. “Clark?”
“Lana,” Clark returns, soft and sweet.
Then he presses a soft kiss to the hair at the top of her head and gently tugs her closer to him by her hips. His face all but nuzzling into her neck as he squeezes her hips sensuously.
Lana melts back into him. Arousal zips through Lex’s body, traitorous and desperate. It burns too hotly for him to ignore. He feels a shiver run down his spine, watching Clark’s eyelashes flutter as he breathes in the scent of her. Then Clark’s plush mouth is pressed open and panting at her skin, his lips drag at her throat. Not quite a kiss, just blatant want and desire.
Lex’s cock is half hard, ears tinged pink as he takes another sip of his whiskey. He can’t look away, not as Clark’s hands slid back across Lana’s belly and then dip lower.
“Please?” It’s a soft murmur into the skin of her neck, Clark’s voice all but a whimper.
Lana’s chest is rising and falling rapidly, her whole body presses back into Clark as she grips the edge of the bar cart. “Yes. God- Clark.”
Clark wastes no time, he slides his hand down her smooth thigh and then up her skirt. The blue material is rucked up which gives Lex a good view of the tan expanse of her thighs, and the way Clark’s arm moves under her skirts. Slow and steady, testing the waters.
Lex knows he’s never touched a girl before, not like this. Knows that he’s held back touching Lana for fear of his strength. But now his hand moves under her skirts and Lana lets out a breathy moan, grip white on the cart in front of her, pleasure coloring her features as Clark’s fingers undoubtedly find her clit.
Lex has never been so hard in his life. His cock aches as he watches Clark’s wrist move, hand probably slipping beneath the material of Lana’s underwear, if her sharp intake of breath is any indication.
Lana’s lips part softly as she pants, eyes screwing shut as she leans back into Clark. Her body melts into his, legs spreading apart as he hands grab at his biceps, like she’s clinging to him for dear life.
There’s a soft slick sound as Clark’s fingers pump inside of her. It’s positively sinful, wet and hot, as her cunt undoubtedly squeezes at his fingers, tries to pull him deeper. Clark nuzzles into her, his breathing is short and quick, soft little pants that muss her hair.
Lex moves his hand to palm at his erection through his slacks. A soft hiss escapes his teeth, accompanied by a flush of shame. He shouldn’t be watching them, shouldn't touch himself.
“Clark,” she all but whimpers, body turning into a live wire in his grip.
His hand speeds up between her legs. Lex hopes Clark remembers when Lex told him how to use the clitoris to send a woman into overstimulated bliss. How to make her whimper and sob in pleasure.
Lex’s mouth is dry as he watches. Excitement and something darker and sweeter thrums through his body, makes his pulse quicken and his cock throb with want. He squeezes his erection and takes another small sip of whiskey, relishes the indulgence of it as Clark’s fingers make lewd squelching sounds in Lana’s cunt.
He has half the mind to take his cock out and pleasure himself, to stroke himself to the pace of Clark’s wrist, imagine it's Clark’s hand on his cock, Lana’s mouth. But he was already weak enough in the knees, in his restraint, to touch himself through his slacks. To watch.
Lana’s close. He can see it in the way her body all but writhes in Clark’s embrace, nails digging into Clark’s bicep, tanned skin indented white and red. Another mystery of invulnerability.
Lana’s face contorts into a pained expression, mouth open in a silent moan as her fingers claw at Clark’s arm. She all but sobs as she comes, body tense and then free. Heavy and sated.
Lex and Clark both still, the realization they know how Lana sounds when she comes settles in the room. Thick and hot.
The image of it, Lana’s face, Clark’s hand between her smooth thighs, the bunched up skirt, it’s painted in Baroque style on the back of Lex’s eyelids. Bold, bright and eternal.
“Lana,” Clark breathes out, nostrils flaring as he all but nuzzles into her hair. He pulls his hand out from under her skirts, fingers glistening with her spend. Lex’s mouth waters, he wants nothing more than to suck Clark’s fingers into his mouth, to lap up all the sinful evidence.
Lana turns in his arms, their mouths finding each other soft and gentle as her hands grab at his hips. They all but sway, like they’re dancing in the water, the same disastrous waters that have Lex intoxicated.
Lex strokes himself through his slacks, all sense of decorum completely escaped at the soft pants they make into each other’s mouths. His bid for sainthood demolished at the flash of pink tongue as Lana licks into Clark’s open ready mouth. As her hands dig into his hips and pull his erection flush to her belly.
Clark whimpers, high pitched and needy. It goes straight to Lex’s cock.
Lana’s hands find the front of Clark’s jeans, she palms his erection, drawing a guttural groan from him, his pink mouth dazed as she sucks at his bottom lip. He’s lost to the pleasure of it, eyes screwed shut tight, body rigid from the sheer ache he must feel. And it is an ache. Lex can smell it, arousal and heat seem to flood the room. Clark pushes back against it, refuses to give in, thrashes in the waters of desire.
Lex has no such qualms. He strokes his cock and releases a soft moan. There’s a flash of blue as Clark looks at him through slitted eyes. Electric blue shoots across Lex’s skin, down his spine and makes him shiver, lips parting delicately as he squeezes his cock to keep from coming in his pants like some hormonal teenager.
Lana releases a soft sound as she undoes Clark’s pants, her eyes flick to Lex conspiratorially, the green of them all but swallowed up by the blackness of desire.
Lex feels dirty as he wets his lips. His gaze follows her delicate hands as they drag Clark’s zipper down, revealing the white waistband of his boxer briefs.
“Lana,” Clark breathes out, voice unsteady and soft. “I- I can’t.”
She pulls back, looks up at him through thick lashes and rests a hand on his chest, thumb caressing at the right white cotton of his tee shirt.
“Clark, you won’t hurt me.” It’s said with so much resolve Lex believes it, he can feel the quake of it threatening to knock over Clark’s willpower.
“I can’t risk that.” It’s breathy and soft. His bright pink lips move to brush over hers, chaste and sweet.
Lex can’t help the way that sticks in his throat. The fear of Clark hurting her has been an ever present issue. He used it to twist himself up into knots and to keep Lana at arms length.
Clark pulls away after a long aching moment and looks directly at Lex. Eyes blown wide with lust, lips kiss swollen, another masterpiece Lex wants to frame up on his wall, or hold between his mouth.
“You can,” he says pleadingly.
Lana’s breath catches, soft and sweet.
Lex meets her eyes, and that’s another mistake. The last nail in his coffin. Because those green sparkling eyes are wide and pleading, full of lust and something softer, sweeter. The taste of sickly sweet coffee first thing in the morning, soft hands fixing the lapels of his jacket, the scent of oranges drifting across his driving console.
“I can,” Lex says. Voice thick, too thick.
He knows he shouldn’t. That Clark just turned sixteen, knows that to touch them- to act on his desire in any way was playing with fire. But the way they looked at him, Clark’s zipper undone, his hands drenched in Lana’s desire and her lips parted soft and delicate. Lex wants to be consumed, burnt up. He would beg at their altar of fire and ash.
Clark’s nostrils flare as he watches Lex, some unreadable expression on his face. It’s colored with lust and longing and something somehow even more desperate. Like he’s drowning and all he wants is Lex and Lana to hold him up, breathe air back into his lungs.
Lana flexes her fingers on Clark’s chest. “Lex?”
She asks like she doesn’t know how much he wants her. How many sleepless nights he’d rolled over in silk sheets refusing to touch himself until he could banish the thoughts of her eyes shining after he’d recited poetry. After he’d let desire color his words and peeled back the sheer facade of his intentions. His dark intentions.
His competitors would have a field day with this. Metaphorically string him up in a cornfield. Perverting local teenagers two at a time.
“C’mere,” he murmurs, placing his glass down on the floor and opening up his legs to make space.
Lana licks her lips, pink tongue tantalizing. She walks to him, her hand drags on Clark’s chest until it falls down behind her, fingertips slipping off Clark right as she steps between Lex’s legs.
Lex wastes no time, he grabs at her hips, massages them between his hands. Revels in the feel of hot soft flesh under his hands.
“Lana,” he breathes out. Looks up at her in a way that he’s sure could only be described as lovesick or desperate.
“Lex,” she smiles, nose crinkling up adorably.
He moves a thigh between her legs and guides her to sit down, so they’re at eye level. She goes easily, skirt rucking up her long legs and giving Clark a good view if the way his breath audibly catches is any indication. She’s wet and hot, cunt all but soaking through to his thigh. Clark had worked her up well, his cock twitches in the confines of his slacks.
Lex leans in to catch her mouth in a soft kiss, achingly gentle. Everything he wants to give her.
Lana’s mouth opens readily, soft and pliant under his touch, her lips slide across his, slick and sweet. Everything about her is cloying and heady, a challenge to his restraint.
She grinds into his thigh, the wetness of her underwear rubbing at his slacks as she seeks pleasure. Lex licks into her mouth, a soft whine claws out of his throat as their tongues brush and the flavor of her bursts across his tongue. He turns his head so the kiss deepens, he moves his hands with her hips, guides her as she ruts against his thigh.
Lex’s body is heavy with lust, light headed as he kisses her soundly. He wants nothing more than to kiss Lana until she’s gasping for air against his lips, clinging to him as she comes. Her hips pick up speed as she gets impossibly wetter, undoubtedly ruining a Louis Vuitton silk blend. But Lex doesn’t care, instead he urges her on, relishes the slick feel of her soaking his slacks. Wants nothing more than to bury his face in her wet cunt, lap up all she has to offer.
Lana breaks the kiss panting, her hot breath ghosts across his lips. Her hips slow to soft rolls as she draws out her pleasure, arms wrapped around his neck, hand caressing the back of his head.
It’s intimate in a way it has no business being. Like they’re fucking each other soft and slow, laid out on a four poster bed. Not her rutting against his thigh, both fully clothed while Clark watches.
Lex dares to look over her shoulder, breath hitching at the sight of Clark on his knees. Blue eyes black with desire, red lips parted and sensuous. His jeans have been pushed down his thighs and he’s touching himself through cotton red boxer briefs.
“Fuck,” Lex breathes out. His hands tighten at Lana’s hips and he gets her to still. “Take your cock out, Clark. Touch yourself- for me.”
Lana whimpers, a beautiful wrecked sound from the back of her throat while Lex’s hips press up into nothing.
She turns to watch as Clark obeys. Both their eyes on him as he pushes the waist band of his boxers down and his erection bobs up, he’s thick, average length, uncut. The head of his cock is an angry red. He’s leaking and so hard he bites down on his bottom lip to suppress a moan as his fingers wrap loosely around his cock.
Lex’s throat is dry. Desire burns so hot he knows he’ll combust in the morning light.
Lana’s hips press into his thigh as she watches Clark through slitted eyes. She’s beautiful, all but dripping, soaked in the orange glow from the fireplace.
Clark’s cheeks are flushed a bright red as they watch him. But his hand doesn’t stop, he strokes himself, slow and languid. His thumb swipes over the swollen head of his cock and his mouth falls open in a positively sinful moan.
“Good boy,” Lex breathes out. Even as he guides Lana to straddle both his thighs, she follows easily, trusting.
Clark bites down on his bottom lip, hard. “Please.”
Lex isn’t sure what he’s begging for, but he wants to give it to him, show him how good he can feel. How good they all can feel. He slides a hand up Lana’s skirt, tugs her soaked panties to the side and slides a finger through her wet folds.
She moans, head falling back as he fucks into her easily. Her cunt is wet and hot and all but sucks him in, she’s more than ready. Lex’s mouth waters at the idea of his fingers being inside her, where Clark had already stretched her good and well for Lex’s cock.
“Clark,” he says, smooth and sweet as he hooks his fingers inside of her. “I want you to do something for me. Is that okay?”
Clark nods, all too readily as a soft whimper escapes him, hand stilling on his cock. Ready to obey whatever command Lex has, which has Lex’s cock throbbing with want, impossibly harder.
“On the upstroke tighten your grip, baby. Then loosen it as you go back down, mhmm?” He moves his hand inside of Lana’s skirts, brushes at her g-spot, her arms wrapped around his neck tighten in response. “Every so often, twist your wrist. But-“ he rubs at the hard ridge inside of Lana’s cunt making her pant desperate and sweet “-if you feel like you’re gonna come, squeeze your cock head. You don’t come until I say so. Until I come inside of her.”
Clark whines sharp and gorgeous and his hand squeezes at the head of his cock just like he was told.
Lana’s cunt spasms around his fingers, and he gets to watch as she comes again, warm breath ghosts across his lips. She’s stunning like this. Lex has the sudden intense desire to hold her tighter, keep her like this forever, locked in ecstasy, held in his arms.
“So beautiful,” Lex murmurs, starting to press open mouthed kisses along the column of her throat. He slows his fingers thrusts, not stopping but letting her ground herself. “So wet and hot.”
“Lex,” Clark all but whimpers. His strokes are slower and filthier, wrist twisting and grip loosening, eyelashes fluttering gorgeously at the tops of his cheeks.
Lex smirks into Lana’s neck, tongue pressing flat as he licks up her skin, musky and salty. She rocks her hips into his hand with a soft whine.
“You got her all ready for me Clark,” Lex says low and sweet. “It’s only fair I let you know how good she feels.”
“Lex,” Lana murmurs. Then she’s kissing him, hard and desperate, her teeth dig into his bottom lip.
He melts easily into her, lets her ravish his mouth as she smooths a hand over his bare head. His mouth opens up easily, lets her tongue press inside as she fucks herself on his fingers, ready again.
She breaks the kiss and pulls back, green eyes boring into him. “I want you inside of me.”
Lex can’t help the groan that escapes him, his cock twitches in his slacks and he nods. “Want you so bad.”
He sounds desperate to his own ears. But he’s been hard and throbbing for what has felt like an eternity. And Lana’s teeth digging into his lips had made him so hard he hurt from it. Ached.
Lex makes quick work of his belt, opens his slacks just enough to pull out his cock, it’s curved up to his belly, the tip an angry purple from how long he’s been hard. But he loved it, relished it. The sharp edge it gave pleasure when he’d hold off his orgasm.
Lana licks her lips, green eyes hooded as she looks down at his cock.
“Is this your first time?” His voice is smooth and sweet as he pumps his cock once. He watches her face as she watches him intently.
Green eyes flick up to his, she nods, cheeks glowing pink.
Two virgins. One spread out across his thighs the other mere inches away on his knees cock in hand. Lex was going to hell.
“I want you,” she says, moving to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Since that day you got whipped cream on your mouth at the Beanery. I’ve wanted you so fucking much. I’ve dreamed of you-“ she murmurs against his lips “-bending me over the Talon counter, tongue working me open in your car.”
Fire licks up his body, every inch of his skin feels hot and tight as he leans in to kiss her hard. He sets claim to her mouth, hands finding her hips and tugging her closer to him as he lifts her skirts up. He tugs her soaked panties to the side so his cock head can brush at the swollen wet lips of her cunt.
Lex moans into the kiss as he drags his cock through her slick folds, teases them both as her arms tighten around his neck, blunt nails dragging at his bare scalp. He feels like he’s suffocating in her. And the masochistic side of him knows he would never trade that for anything, he’d let her draw all the oxygen out of his body and he’d enjoy it.
She breaks the kiss as his cock head presses inside of her, her lips parted in a soft moan.
Lex lets her take control as she sinks down on his cock, slow and steady, inch by inch. Even with how wet and stretched she was it’s slow, her adjusting to the foreign feeling, green eyes soft and trusting as she stares into his.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs sweetly. “You’re taking it so pretty.”
Her mouth opens in a soft groan as she sinks down further. Her cunt is hot and tight around his cock, threatening to make Lex come right then and there.
Clark moans, his hand twisting at the head of his cock as he watches them with rapt attention. His cock is slick and wet with precum, so much that Lex is certain it’s an alien thing. Which makes his cock twitch inside of Lana who groans as she slides the last few inches down his cock so her ass is pressed fully into his thighs.
They still, both breathing heavy as she adjusts, breath mingling. The scent of alcohol and lemonade sickly sweet between them.
“Lana,” he murmurs, lips brushing hers. His hands find her hips, massaging them through the thin material of her dress.
She takes a deep breath, nose tapping against his as she rolls her hips experimentally. “Lex.” She draws out his name until it feels filthy, until it’s as stretched as her cunt around his cock.
“Can I?” He rubs his thumbs into her hips, gentle and soothing.
Lana nods, all too readily, her nose flares as Lex guides her hips up. The feel of it is almost enough to do him in, the wet hot drag of her cunt on his cock, the way she squeezes him as she pants against his mouth.
“Fuck,” he breathes out. “You’re so tight, Lan’.” Her name sticks in his mouth, like thick cake frosting, decadent and disastrous. “Clark-“ he breathes out, looking over at his friend who’s all but whimpering as he strokes his cock. His eyes are squeezed closed so tight Lex all but knows heat vision is burning behind his eyes. “She’s fucking soaked. Squeezing so good.”
Clark’s grip goes white around the base of his cock and a soft hiss escapes between his teeth.
Lex tugs Lana’s hips back down, fucks into her in earnest, all three of them moan. Bodies warm and hot and pliant.
It’s heady, the scent of Lana seems to wrap him up as much as her hot cunt, her arms, the palm of her hand that strokes down his scalp and back up again as she rises and falls in his lap. She’s panting and moaning, breath hot against Lex’s cheek as she presses an open mouthed kiss to it.
He doesn’t know who’s guiding the thrusts anymore, whether it’s his hands on her hips or her powerful thighs as she rises up in his lap and falls back down. He’s sure it’s both of them, moving in tandem, drunk on the slick heat between them, the drag of his cock head at the sweet spot inside of her.
Her nails drag at his scalp and she throws her head back, face slack from pleasure as he keeps fucking into her, keeps pushing her closer and closer to her edge. Lex can feel his own orgasm unfurling in his belly, soft and hot.
Lana’s collarbone and breasts are on full display at this angle, smooth tanned skin seems to stretch on for miles. Lex leans forward and mouths at the thin material covering her breasts. The red and white stripes across the front of her dress are made wet by his tongue as he lathes at the fabric.
She whines and presses her chest closer to him. He takes that as his invitation and reaches up to tug the top of her dress down, humming pleased as her perky breasts pop out, no bra keeping her hard piqued nipples from him. Lex sucks a hard nipple into his mouth, sucks and licks at the musky skin.
He whimpers. Pleasure seems to flood his whole body as he rocks his hips up into her, slow shallow strokes.
“Fuck, Lex. Please.” Clark all but begs.
Lex can’t see him, but he can hear the slick sounds of him fucking his fist, the breathy moans he releases everytime Lana fucks herself onto Lex’s cock.
The sounds blend beautifully with the slick slide and slap of Lex and Lana’s bodies. A symphony of sin.
Lex swirls his tongue around her nipple, his hand sliding back into her skirts so he can find her clit. It’s enough to have Lana writhe in his lap, body turned into a live wire under his ministrations, on his cock. As if she’s trying to get away from the pleasure and also get closer, get more.
He kicks his hips up into her, pleasure washes over him in white hot waves as her cunt clenches down on him. She gasps for air, voice wrecked and thoroughly fucked. Her cunt squeezes him as she comes on his cock, the slide of her cunt feels impossibly hotter and slicker as she does.
Lex whimpers, thrusts becoming erratic as his mouth pops off her breast, lips undoubtedly swollen from the attention. Hands finding her hips again as he fucks her harder and faster.
Clark looks at him with such a wanton look, hand fisted around the head of his cock. And Lex can imagine Clark fucking into him as he fucks Lana. Can picture the three of their bodies intertwined in a mass of hot limbs and wet mouths. And he’s so close to his edge his vision seems to expand, colors burn brighter and every sensation, every drag of Lana’s cunt on his cock feels more.
“Lex,” Lana moans.
She presses her thumb against his open mouth and Lex sucks at it as his hips stutter and he comes inside of her on a particularly deep thrust. A soft sob escapes him as his arms tighten at her hips, holding her impossibly close.
“Fucking beautiful,” Lana murmurs, using her thumb to open his mouth more before leaning down to kiss him soundly. His heart does a weird lurching thing in his chest as she kisses him, like he’s having a heart attack.
Clark whimpers as he starts to stroke himself again. The slick sound of his hand in his cock drawing both their attention to where he’s kneeled at their feet. His red lips are parted as he strikes his cock fast and hard, wrist twisting at the end of every upstroke. Just like Lex told him.
Lex licks his lips, can feel the lust heavy and thick in the room as Lana drinks in the sight of Clark Kent losing control.
He’s gorgeous, leaking red cock in his hand as he looks up at them. Beautiful aquamarine eyes dancing between them as he pleasures himself.
“Please, Lex,” he pants. “Let me-“
“Come for me, baby,” Lex says, low and gruff. His voice scratchy and used.
Lana moans, cunt clenching around Lex’s spent cock, its overstimulating. Sharp and sweet in the best way.
Clark starts pumping his cock in earnest, his thumb swipes at the head of it and spreads even more precum down his length. He’s so wet the suctioning sounds are positively sinful as he strokes himself.
“You’re doing so good,” Lex says breathily. “Isn’t he?”
Lana hums in acknowledgment. Her fingertips teasing at the back of Lex’s neck as she draws circles into his skin. “He’s always so good. Listens so well.”
Clark comes with a soft sob, cock twitching in his hand as white streaks coat his belly and fingers. He’s gorgeous when he comes, eyes squeezed tight, mouth open and jaw slack. His shoulder slump as he sits back on his thighs, unceremoniously and disastrously wiping his hand on the thin cotton of his tee shirt.
Lex licks his lips, wanting not for the first time to lick Clark’s fingers clean.
“Clark,” Lana breathes out. Then she slides off Lex’s cock, both of them release a soft sound at the loss. “Come here.”
Lex’s heartbeat thunders in his chest. But he watches with curiosity as Clark obeys, stands up on wobbly colt legs and hikes his pants back up. He takes the stride and a half to get to Lana easily, even if he moves like he’s fully drunk, wobbly and unsure.
She fists a hand in his shirt and tugs him down for a kiss, it’s hot and slick, their tongues press together in the empty space between them.
Lex can see everything this close, can feel the heat of Clark’s body as he all but melts into Lana.
Lana whose dripping cunt is still exposed over Lex’s lap, knees still pressed into his hips.
Then they break apart and Clark turns, chin tilted down as he captures Lex’s mouth with his. Kissing Clark is like being submerged underwater, slow and all consuming. He fills Lex up, floods his lungs and his mind. Whatever hasn’t already been laid to wreckage underneath Lana’s mouth.
Lex lets them. Lets them take him apart piece by piece. Let’s their hands stroke along his bare head and churn soft sweet kisses into his mouth.
They laugh between kisses. All three of them. And Lex’s chest aches from it. Because it wasn’t going to be easy. But it was going to be them.