Marry The Steel

Superman tapped gently at the glass of Lois's window, his super-hard fingernail producing a sound not unlike the cliché pebble thrown by a teenage paramour. Perhaps Lois thought that was what it was, until she remembered her apartment was thirty stories up. With the realization—fast as it was—Lois rushed out of her bedroom, robe tied over the T-shirt and panties she'd been planning to sleep in.

She was a gorgeous woman—raven-haired, athletic, her tanktop clinging tightly to a body that could rival many of the goddesses Clark had known. Her lacy panties topped firm, creamy thighs and long legs, but best of all, she wore it all with a confidence that would be intimidating to a less self-assured man. To Superman, it was only endearing. She made no move to adjust her robe, considering it modesty enough to have simply thrown it on, and trusting him not to leer at the exposed flesh on display. Or, perhaps, wanting him to.

"Superman," she said, her husky voice catching a little on his name, as always. "Little late for a nightcap."

"I thought journalism never slept, Ms. Lane."

Lois shrugged, drawing open the window. "It cat-naps."

Superman politely sat himself on the windowsill, feeling a little Romeo & Juliet. "Got time for an interview?"

Her pouty mouth could've been the envy of any model, but she set it in a challenging smirk that demanded to be buried in a kiss. "Would it be a long interview?"

"Depends how much you can take... Ms. Lane."

"Do I have time to get dressed or..." she looked down at her own perfect body, knowing—or at least hoping—the effect she had on him. "Is this alright?"

"It's more than alright. But I know how you like to dress up?"

Again, that smirk that dared him to try to take it off her face. More than once, someone had tried it with fists, only to find she still kept in shape from her teenage judo championships. Clark had to wonder if a kiss would be any more effective. "You're going to have to try harder than that if you want me to wear that geisha girl outfit again," she said, referring to a recent undercover assignment that Clark Kent had, awkwardly enough, been front and center for.

"Ms. Lane, that's not very sensitive to our Japanese friends."

"Maybe that's why the Yakuza wanted me to take it off so bad... Gimme ten minutes. I'll see if I have anything that goes with blue spandex."

"Take your time. There's a forest fire in Oregon. I'd better make sure no one's in the vicinity before I let it burn itself out."

Lois put her hands on her hips, 'inadvertently' drawing her robe back from her body. Her breasts, now not even slightly obscured by the robe, screamed of not wearing a bra and how chilly it could get in Metropolis at night. "And could that take a while? The fire going out?"

"Ms. Lane, it could take ages."

***

When he returned a half hour later, Lois had deliberately defied any expectation of dressing up. She wore the same tight tank as before—with a bra, he couldn't help but notice, and an expensive one judging by the straps ribboning her sculpted shoulders—with a set of comfortable jeans, cross-trainers at the end of the ragged legs. She was as ready for an adventure as an informal date, and Superman gave her an approving smile. He hoped it wasn't too egotistical to find it adorable, the way she swooned.

The black of her bra straps, in teasing contrast to the white tanktop and its shoulder straps, fit well with the black waistband on her thong, as he saw before she tugged her jeans a little higher up her toned belly. There seemed to be a little of a dark side flowing up from her panties, to her bra, to the smoky black hair that caressed her shoulders. He didn't find it adorable, exactly, but he did quite like it.

"Do you mind?" he asked, extending his hand. "My car's in the shop."

"Well, if you don't have the balls to ride bitch on my hog..." Lois took his hand and when he extended his other arm, she deftly hopped upon it, trustingly putting her weight in his arms. "So what's this interview on? It hasn't been that long since we touched base, has it?"

"Afraid it won't be newsworthy?" Superman replied, for a moment just savoring the heft of Lois relaxing in his arms, as bonelessly comfortable as a sleeping cat.

"My readers are always interested in what a newsmaker like you has to say."

"Newsmaker? Why, Ms. Lane, I do believe that's the nicest thing you've ever called me."

Lois rolled her eyes heavenward. "You name the guy 'Superman' and he still goes fishing for compliments. C'mon, big boy, let's up, up, and away already."

Gently, Superman exerted himself, pulling them a few inches off the ground, then leading them out the open window almost like they were being drawn by a string rather than propelled. Outside the building, he applied himself a little more, speeding them up fast enough to tousle Lois's hair and make her cling tightly to his body. Or at least to give her an excuse. He felt her hand rubbing at his chest, exploring the slightly raised contours of the S-shield on his thin but tough Kryptonian uniform. The muscles underneath were easy to feel.

"So where are we going, high-pockets? The Red Room of Pain?"

"Worse. Lexcorp."

Lois's brow furrowed. "They've gotta change the name already."

During the Eugenic Bomb crisis, Lex Luthor had finally been implicated in one of his plots, and this time the scale of his crime was too big for his billions to cover up. He was being held without bail, his lawyers fighting the charges tooth and nail, but until then, Lana Lang had taken over Lexcorp as interim CEO.

"Wait, Lana? Is that who we're going to see?"

Superman winked at her.

Lois tried to keep her grumbling internal. She liked Lana in some ways—admired a great many things about her. She could be on her best behavior. That way, Superman would see that Lana was the one who was a stone-cold bitch.

***

Within a half-mile of the L-shaped Luthor Tower, the great bay windows that shone into Lex Luthor's former office opened automatically, pulling into the walls on rollers to open up a passageway big enough for a helicopter. Lana Lang, working late, had already risen from her desk and perched herself against the wall to watch as Superman flew in. It was only when she saw who he had with him that her attitude dropped.

Lana Lang was as beautiful as Lois, but chic and fashionable where Lois was more brash, rough and tumble. Unlike Lois's long and often tousled black hair, Lana's was mid-length, red, and compulsively styled. Her body was slender, toned from yoga rather than kickboxing or mountain climbing, with her clothes showing off her taste rather than her body. Still, her fashionable corporate attire—a patterned wrap blouse, red overlays on a dark fabric, and a similarly red pencil skirt—could not do much to hide her firm breasts and flat belly. And her haircut, though professional, only drew attention to her clear green eyes and the rich, sensual mouth only partially given to her by exquisitely chosen red lipstick.

"Superman," Lana said gently, playing her fingers at the front closure of her blouse—Lois hoped she was regretting her lack of décolletage, especially as compared to Lois's own C-cups. "You didn't tell me you'd be bringing company."

"You called ahead?" Lois asked him, trying to disguise a shrill jealousy with inquisitive reporter voice. "You have her phone number?"

"Maybe I have his?" Lana needled. "Ever think of that?"

"I think it's more likely you just have time to sit by the phone all day—"

"That's enough!" Superman said firmly. "I wanted to have a mature conversation with both of you, but if you're not ready for that—"

Lois crossed her arms. "Hold on there, blue! Don't try playing some sorta mature, dignified... guy with either of us! You've been stringing us both along!"

"Yeah," Lana agreed. "I can understand letting the old girl down easy, but it's getting a little ridiculous."

"Stop agreeing with me," Lois told her.

"I mean, if you don't call it off with her soon, she'll never have time to find a husband. Thankfully adoption's still an option..."

Lois laughed, shaking her head. "You know, I would threaten to shove my foot up your ass, but you're wound so tight it'd probably never make it."

"Not with the size shoes you wear, darling."

"That's what I just—"

"Okay," Superman said, in a more placating voice. He leaned against the desk. "Not to be mature or dignified—"

"This doesn't seem to be the right room for that," Lana sniffed at Lois.

Lois clasped her hands behind her back, middle fingers raised and body turned so only Lana could see behind her.

"Not to be patriarchal," Superman continued, thanking his English degree for providing him with a word which might not break the ceasefire, "but the fact is, I have been unfair to both of you. I had good intentions, but—well, it's like this. I'm sure you've heard of how my enemies, if they found out who I was—"

"Would target me to get to you," Lois finished.

"Target me to get to you," Lana contradicted.

Lois ignored her with a posh flip of her hair, more irritated with Superman's reasoning. "That's if they can get past the MPD, Superboy, Supergirl, Steel, the Golden Guardian, Superwoman, Eradicator, Power Girl, Booster Gold, Gangbuster, Thorn, Black Lightning—"

"To be fair to him," Lana said, "I don't know if we should count Gangbuster."

"Why not?"

"His name's Gangbuster."

"Jose Delgado," Superman said, "is a very brave and selfless young man."

"She's got a point," Lois said. "He doesn't have any powers. What does he do, kung-fu? Shoot people? I can do all that."

"And I'm rich," Lana said. "I can hire people like Lois—she's cheap!"

"I'll show you cheap, you damned—"

Superman stepped in between them. "Point taken. Obviously, the two of you can take care of yourselves, even if being involved with me did put you in danger." He gave Lois the eye. "Or you put yourself in so much danger that it wouldn't make that much difference if we got married in Yankee Stadium."

"Echh," Lois blanched. "The Yankees..."

"But that wasn't the only consideration. The fact is, I may not be human, but I'm still only a man. And getting the attention of one woman as beautiful, as talented, and as intelligent as the pair of you would be flattering. Two is... well, I never knew quite what to do with it. I used the danger as an excuse to not make a decision, because as happy as it would make me to be with you—either of you—it would make me equally despondent to break the heart of the other one."

"Why do I suddenly feel like I'm on The Bachelor?" Lois asked the air.

"Probably because you're the kind of person who watches The Bachelor."

Lois took a step toward Lana, almost trying to shoulder Superman out of the way before remembering that was quite impossible. "Maybe!" Lois wondered aloud. "You should break her heart before I break it for you."

"Please!" Lana cried. "If Superman were going to choose anyone... and if he didn't feel so sorry for you... I think it's obvious he would go for someone graceful and refined, someone who's already shared so much with him..."

"Someone who's idea of hot sex is doing it under the sheets, but with the comforter off?"

Lana sneered at her. "Oh, Lois, if only you'd been there to see him go from Superboy to a Superman..."

"Yeah, it's no wonder he hasn't gotten with either of us, you probably put him off sex ever since!"

"Ladies, ladies, please!" Superman lifted his hands. "I keep hoping you'll work this out of your system, but it's like you have this eternal spring of bitterness and resentment!"

"Got it when you went on that date with Wonder Woman," Lois said.

"Ditto," Lana added.

Superman closed his eyes for a moment. "What I'm trying to say is that I love both of you. It's torture that I can see how wonderful you are, you each are, but you two look at each other and all you see is some sort of enemy."

"What do you expect?" Lois demanded, poking her finger dead center in Superman's S. "You're the one who let Lang keep living in this fantasy of being your high school sweetheart—"

"You mean he's the one who won't admit how he feels about me, how he's always felt about me—"

"Christ, of all the needy, clingy, self-absorbed..."

"At least I've never tried to steal someone else's man!"

"I didn't try, bitch, I've got him, and he's about to tell you to hit the road!"

"Superman, this woman is delusional, please inform her that it's high time she move on from this embarrassing, simpering crush!"

Superman lowered his voice—so low, in fact, that the sheer bass of it rumbled the room. "What did I just say?" he insisted. "I love both of you."

"Yeah, yeah," Lois said dismissively. "You're Superman, you love everybody, we get it. But at the end of the day, who do you want to fuck? Me, or Lana Limp?"

"She's right," Lana said. "For once. You can't marry both of us, so you'd better let Lois know that her cheap flirtation can never touch our deep, spiritual connection—"

"Actually," Superman said, "I can marry both of you."

Lois and Lana looked at each other, as if checking their reflections for the identical images of shock on either's face.

"He can't be—"

"Surely he can't mean—"

"Even with the Evilutionist defeated," Superman said in his firmest, most serious voice, "his bomb still did its work. Ninety-nine percent of the world's population has been rendered infertile. The one percent left has to breed, and massively, or the human race will be extinct. I've talked to STARR Labs. A human-Kryptonian hybrid would be viable, and able to reproduce. And both of you are part of the One Percent Fertile. You need to find someone to bear children for. I'd like to be that person, for both of you."

"You can't be serious!" Lana blurted out. "You want me—you want us—to share you?"

"It's not unheard of. And it's going to be heard of a lot more. Monogamy simply can't sustain the human population. Those who are fertile must be polygamous."

"How can you be so calm?" Lois demanded. "I always thought you were some kind of boy scout, but this sounds like a letter to the Penthouse forum!"

"I don't plan on flying around, impregnating every woman I see like some Don Juan. This would be a traditional marriage—well, two of them, to be precise. On Krypton, it was quite common."

"Well, no wonder the place blew up!" Lana cried. "Sorry..."

"Listen, Supes," Lois said, "I'm a modern woman—hell, part of the reason I was so damn salty about you and Wonder Woman was that you didn't bring me along—but Lana Lang? I mean, c'mon, we can do better. Imagine you, me, and Phantom Lady."

"Don't go along with this!" Lana almost screamed. "How can you be—how can you condone—where is your sisterly solidarity?"

"This ain't Paradise Island, bitch. And clearly you're not interested, so I guess that means I get the rose. And you'd get that reference if you watched The Bachelor like a normal fucking person!" Lois added triumphantly.

"Now Lois," Superman chided. "Give her time to come around. I know it's a shocking proposal—"

"Proposal? It's an insult!" Lana stomped her kitten heels. "I don't want sex, Superman, this isn't about sex! What about being special? What about being the most important person in someone's life? I don't care if that sounds like ownership, there's simply no way I can be satisfied with a relationship, knowing that there's another woman with that same relationship to that same man! And Lois is too stupid to realize it, but she wouldn't be satisfied either with a shared man, with only half a relationship! No, Superman, it is just impossible that you can satisfy us both at the same time!"

Superman presented his counterargument: he tugged at his red shorts, pulling them beneath the enormous bulge in his blue suit, the hidden zipper of his fly strained to the breaking point. He pulled it down, freeing his aching cock.

Startled, Lana stumbled back, eyes wide open in shock, while Lois barely held back a gasp. It was so massive, it seemed impossible that such a monument could move, yet it did, quivering as if with a life of its own. Lois actually took an involuntary step forward, her attention riveted to his groin, drawn to the massive presence that, like any cosmic body, seemed to have its own gravitational pull.

"Oh... my..."

"CLARK!" Lana cried, her eyes still full of amazement.

"What?" Lois asked, acting on pure journalistic instinct as she continued looking at, and thinking of, Superman's namesake.

"That's Clark's... that's Clark!"

"Are you sure?" Lois asked, now thinking to keep her hands at her sides, where they could not reach out and assure her that such a thing was real and as fantastic as she'd ever dreamed—just as big and strong as befitted Superman's god-like frame—perhaps even a little more so...

"I'm hardly going to forget a thing like that, now am I!" Lana screamed.

Lois shook her head as best she could without taking her eyes off the cock, as if afraid it were a mirage that would disappear if she looked away. "No wonder you've been stalking him since high school. If I'd ridden that thing, I'd be a creepy weirdo too!"

"I am not a—stop staring at it!" Lana cried.

"No," Lois said simply.

"I was going to tell you," Clark said. "But I honestly wanted to see how the marriage proposal went over first."

"That's fair," Lois said absently. "So how do marriages work on Krypton?"

"Lois, this is degrading! It's insulting!"

Superman spoke over her. "All it would take to be considered legitimate is for us both to state our intent. A more elaborate ceremony can follow, of course, to celebrate the occasion, but all that really matters is that we want to."

"I want to," Lois nodded. "I really, really want to."

"And we'd have to consummate the marriage. Naturally."

"Naturally."

"Lois, you are setting back feminism by fifty years!"

Lois cocked her head. "And how long after we're married would it take to consummate the marriage?"

"Well, it depends. In Lurvan, the marriage is considered consummated after the initial penetration. That can take place immediately."

"Immediately..." Lois shuddered.

"But in Urrika, the marriage isn't considered consummated until the male's final orgasm. That can take considerably longer."

Lois shuddered harder. "Longer?"

"Considerably." Superman looked deep in her eyes, his blazing blue eyes the only things that could distract her from his rampant erection. "I want to marry you, Lois."

Lois nodded. "I wanna marry you so hard."

She surrendered to her desires, completely and hungrily, diving into a desperate kiss and grabbing his cock, both to caress it and to ensure it couldn't disappear on her, though her hand seemed at first utterly inadequate to handle such an imposing length. It was pried loose, never able to completely wrap around his girth, as Clark picked Lois up and let her wrap her legs around his waist. She was delighted to find his righting erection pressing flush between her buttocks.

"We'll give Lana some time to think it over," Clark said.

"Lots of time," Lois agreed, when she wasn't kissing him.

"Your place or mine?" Clark asked, his rising cock actually lifting Lois a few inches as he grew harder.

"Neither. Here. Now." Lois smiled. "The roof?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Lana watched them go, still agape at how they had so flagrantly—so openly—how Lois had allowed herself to be seduced so completely...

And had she said Phantom Lady? Lois and Clark and Phantom Lady?

Lana ran for the elevator, leaving her heels far behind.