Marry The Steel

***

"Just so you know," Clark said, lowering Lois to the rooftop, having converted some of the gravel to warm, smooth glass with the careful application of heatvision and polar breath. "I know I should've told you. It's not that I didn't trust you. I never thought you would expose my secret or something ridiculous like that. And I absolutely hated lying to you, especially once I'd developed feelings for you—I never knew that would happen when all this started. But in a way, it's almost not my secret to keep. Even if, by some remote chance, telling you led to others finding out, that wouldn't just expose me, but Superboy, Supergirl, my friends, my parents... I should've told you sooner, I know, before all this, but honestly, with this One Percent Fertile thing, I didn't think I had any time before someone else offered you a bit more than a reporter's salary and a life of danger..."

"Clark?" Lois interrupted. "Shut the fuck up and fuck me."

Clark reached down between her legs, spreading her thighs apart, feeling the nervous tremble deep in her flesh that Lois tried so hard not to show.

When he entered her, she stopped trembling, but started to gasp.

Then she gasped again. This time, much louder.

On Vathlo Island, where the marriage was considered consummated with the first orgasm, they would be husband and wife.

***

As Lana rode the elevator up to the fortieth floor, she felt a quiver go through the car, like some giant had whipped the elevator cable in an attempt to test how firmly it was secured.

On the fiftieth floor, she heard screams.

It occurred to Lana that if she'd acted before Lois, that could be her screaming.

Which was only fair. After all, she'd seen it first.

***

"OH YES! FUCK THAT PUSSY! IT'S YOURS, IT'S YOURS! FUCK IT, IT'S YOURS!"

Lois laid flat on her back, legs wide open, Superman savagely thrusting into her. She was completely lost in the fuck, head canted back and eyes rolling to her hair. Her jeans were down around her ankles, a pant leg pulled inside out, the whole garment clinging to her left ankle. One bra strap had fallen around her bicep, and she held one of her breasts with her right hand, squeezing it as if trying to keep it in place while her whole body bounded with Superman's strokes inside her. Her other arm was thrown around Superman's broad shoulders, hand resting in his hair, not trying to control him in the slightest, just feeling the power in him like the warmth of atomic decay in a plutonium core.

Superman was both stoic and warmly affectionately, powering into her receptive pussy with strong, but measured strokes, keeping himself centered as he held her down with one hand, his other one working at her clitoris like it was a schoolyard game. His cape billowed from his attacking thrusts, whipping in the air like it was catching Lois's loud, vocal pleasure.

Then Clark decided Lois was ready for more, and fed a few more inches of his massive cock into her, his cape shooting bolt upright from the force of his more protracted thrust.

"SO BIG!" Lois whined, her face contorted with abject pleasure. "SO BIG! SO BIG IN MY PUSSY! OH, SHIT, I'M COMING AGAIN!"

"So that's the way it is then?" Lana demanded, out of breath from her run to the roof access, wincing from the pain of crossing sharp gravel in her stocking feet, watching the pair in shocked silence as they fucked—and they really were fucking, Lois was finally getting the cock that Lana had come to think neither of them would ever receive. Superman was grunting and groaning as he plundered her body, took all the pleasure he could from her, the merest perusal of her sex driving Lois Lane out of her mind with pleasure.

"You're just going to fuck, huh!?" Lana cried, her voice seeming to echo into the uncaring atmosphere of the city this high up. "He snaps his fingers and says he wants you and you're just going to spread your legs? How'd you even know you could take a cock that big!? Huh? I bet he'll want to fuck you in the ass next, and then you'll be sorry, because there's no way he can fuck that fat ass of yours without splitting it in two!"

"COMING AGAIN, COMING AGAIN, OOOOH!"

Just as Lois's crooning orgasm peaked, Superman broke his steady rhythm, pulling his cock all the way out of Lois. Lois could only gasp as she kept coming, body trembling with climactic energy. She rose up off the floor, pushing with her legs and back muscles, reaching with her snatch for Superman's rod. Clark let her try to regain it. He hovered an inch or two above Lois's hole, tormenting her. Lana stared incredulously at his size and hardness. It was just as she'd always dreamed, a huge monster that should've been hers alone to enjoy.

"Give it back," Lois begged weakly. "It's mine... your wife's..."

"You don't think it's Lana's turn?" he asked. "You know I need you two to get along."

"Yes... yes..." Lois said softly. "Too much for me... enough for both of us... more than enough... we can both..." Lois broke into an unconcerned smile. "But please? Once more? Then I'll show you how nice I can be to her."

Clark smiled at her, kissing her cheek and running a fond hand along her face, then driving down into her, slamming her to the rooftop and pinning her there, impaled on his deep-set cock.

Lana gaped, realizing she was breathing so hard, she might as well have been coming herself. Lois was coming, just from that one thrust, growing limp, cooing as if in rejoicing for Superman's mastery over her body.

"There's one more thing," Superman whispered in her ear, "that I should mention."

"Yes, yes..." Lois whimpered, saying it to him, to the universe, to her life now.

"On Krypton, the wife is considered consummated when not only has she made her husband orgasm, but she has drunken of it as well..."

Lois smiled, full of love. "I'm thirsty, Smallville."

Clark pulled out of her abruptly, presenting his cock to her flushed face. Lois closed her eyes and dropped her jaw, unable and unwilling to do anything but swallow as her face and open mouth were showered with voluminous ejaculate.

Then Clark turned to face Lana, his still-erect cock swinging before him, his seed clinging wetly to its tip. With a bemused smile, he unclasped his cape, reached down, wrapped it around Lois, and hoisted her up. Her ankle emerged daintily from her little cocoon, jeans trailing away from it.

"You are a Superman," Lois muttered.

"And you're a Superwoman," Clark told her. "But not the only one."

Lana stared at him. His cock was still out. Cum still dripped from it. Or was that precum?

"There is no way in hell," Lana said, shaking with rage, "that you are fucking her and not me."

Clark nodded solemnly. "We should get her inside. Find her someplace nice and warm to sleep. I think I may have shown off a little."

"Shown off? You only fucked her for five minutes!"

"But with my speed and vibration, that was like hours of normal sex concentrated into a few seconds." He shrugged, jostling a happy Lois. "I wanted to wrap things up quickly so you could have your turn."

"So you can go longer?" Lana asked.

Clark nodded.

"How much longer?"

"I don't know. I've never been with a woman who could keep up with me. Diana and I never actually—"

"So... we could find out? Now?"

"It would be very symmetrical," Clark agreed. "Having just enough for you and Lois together."

"Or maybe a little more?" Lana said hopefully.

***

Lois slept soundly, dreaming that she was sandwiched between Clark Kent and Superman, and they were both fucking her so hard she had to scream and scream and—

Lois awoke, jerking up to take in her surroundings and condition in mere seconds. She'd been wiped off with a moist towelette, the mint scent clinging to her, her face and cleavage and tank cleaned of semen. Her pants had been removed altogether—more mintiness over her thighs, where her own juices had been warm and abundant—and a blanket had been thrown over her. She was inside, lying on one of those black leather executive couches that were supposed to be looked at but never actually sat on. And a woman was screaming.

Lois rose, tossing the blanket aside before it could hamper her movement. Her good samaritan may had removed her jeans, but he'd pulled her panties up, and aside from the heated moisture of the damp spot in the front, they were enough for her. She thought, crazily, that Lana had knocked her out and grabbed Superman to keep him for herself—maybe with Kryptonite, because how else could that bitch tear a man away from Lois Lane—but then remembered. Something about Clark—Clark was Superman—saying that it was someone else's turn.

Remembering fully, Lois stampeded toward the source of the screams that rang through the empty offices with their powered down monitors and shuddered windows. She couldn't stop herself. And as if her feet had minds of their own, she found herself prowling the executive suite of Lana's offices, passing empty secretary stations and intern rooms, coming to a simple-looking door that she knew to have a full bedroom, bathroom, and kitchenette inside.

The door rattled and shook like Superman was fucking Lana right against it.

"Now, where did you say you wanted it again?" Lois heard Clark say.

"Where do you think, hubby? There. There! Ohhh, yesss—no, not there!"

"Why not? Seems like a nice fit to me. Nice and tight."

Lois could hear Lana grimacing. "Maybe too damn tight!"

"No such thing. You can take it. You've got such a nice ass."

She had to see what was happening. Drawing one of the several lockpicks she kept secured on her person, Lois tried the lock. It yielded easily, and she nudged the door open, poking her head through the crack. The bedroom struck her as clean and impersonal—black furnishings, an en suite tap, shower, and even toilet, though that was through a folding partition. Just a place for a weary executive to rest instead of making the trek back home; a status symbol more than anything else.

What drew Lois's eye was the bed. The sheets had been thrown back, Lana laid out on the mattress, her clothing disassembled. The midi skirt was opened, still lying underneath her, with her panties around both ankles like a pair of manacles. Her blouse, too, had been unwrapped, and lay beneath her bra-clad torso. Her hair had been let out of its chignon, spreading across the pillow like burning embers on the black sheeting. Her red nails dug into the mattress pad. Lana's pale body stood out in striking contrast, caught between the red of her hair and her garments, and the darkness of her bedding. Together, she and Clark looked like god and goddess.

Clark was on top of her. He had her legs doubled up, her knees pressing firmly into her breasts, his arms around her, holding her in position as he reached under her, fondling her buttocks, teasing her asshole with his cock.

A tingle of delight surged through Lois, like getting a scoop, knowing a secret, finding out something she wasn't supposed to know—only this was more illicit, dirtier, better. She was watching two people fuck. It had a hypnotic effect, muting all fears of being caught, enhancing all her senses. She was enthralled by their closeness, quivering with anticipation of a pleasure not her own.

"You like my ass?" Lana asked hopefully.

After a love tap on Lana's bottom, Clark brought his hand up her body, petting her unbound hair. "Every time you wiggle that nice ass, I get hard."

"Really?"

"Wiggle it and see. Yeah, just like that... yeah, yeah... that nice ass of yours all around my cock, rubbing against me... yeah, I think that's where you want it..."

"I... yes, I do... I doooo..."

"Thought so."

Lois's inquisitive mind turned to perversity with incredible ease. She felt no jealousy, only desperate questions of whether he would fuck her ass, whether he would shove it all the way in as he had with Lois, whether he would keep Lana in that position or manhandle her into another? How it would feel to have Superman moving you around, maneuvering you for his pleasure?

The questions were never answered. Clark released the pressure on Lana's legs, slipped himself around, moving to her cunt and rubbing his cockhead there, in her splayed slickness. "Later. When Lois can help. You two need to learn how to work as a team."

And before either of the women could question that, Clark had wrenched himself inside of Lana. All the way in. The way Lana screamed, it was obvious. This was not teasing like before. This was being taken, given over and giving herself over to her new husband, finding her place in their mutual pleasure. Lois could hear it all in her voice. She'd heard many men, many women, watched, listened, sometimes for her job, sometimes for fun. She'd learned the subtle undertones of the connoisseur, imagined what kind of grunts and groans she'd like to hear from Superman as he fucked her, known the moan she herself would make when loving the way her cunt was filled with a long, throbbing prick. The moan she had made.

She knew Lana was gasping partly with need, replacing the shameful memories of all other men with this, the man she could've had, the man she belonged with, the commander of deeply lingering lust, her mate and master. She was resigning herself to the wonderful terror of having found the love of her life, steeling herself to have this pleasure be hers, to a future filled with this satisfaction, a lifetime of needing this exact fulfillment, a lifetime that would still never be enough to satisfy her. However much she had loved Clark or Superman before, now she was falling in love with being fucked by him, marrying herself to the way her body could feel in his hands, just as Lois had before her.

It pissed the general's daughter right the hell off.

She watched with furious eyes as Clark finally finished delivering himself to Lana, the redhead now impossibly aware of just how big he was, how deep her pleasure would go. Lana finished a shamefaced, guttural groan of impalement. Lois saw her force her eyes shut, trying to make peace with how sharp the feeling of penetration was.

"Keep it there," Lana eked out, her voice breathless. "Just leave it there for a while... don't move it..."

"Don't move what?" Clark asked with a wry grin, a bemused look in his eyes. "This?"

Lana screamed, signaling her orgasm as if she wanted Lois to know, the bitch. Her hands flew to her face, fingers clawing powerlessly at her face and hair as she came until her voice could no longer pace her passion, and her climactic scream became soundless. Lois had read Cat Grant's column, as she read all the Planet's material to make sure it fit her own high standards. She'd known of Lana's many lovers—well-traveled playboys, white-hot actors, even a few superheroes (and more than a few other women, if Cat's gossip was right). But from the way Lana recovered her breath only to gasp weakly, from the way her body trembled as if half-afraid of the pleasures still echoing through it, Lois knew none of them had ever made her come so hard. Indeed, Lois doubted Lana even knew she could orgasm so... completely.

"Shit!" Lana keened when she'd begun to recover. "Yes! Damn you, yes, that! Just leave it in... until I'm done with it..."

"Done with what?" Clark persisted, now full-on smirking. "You'll have to be more specific." Again, he petted her hair, this time coming up with a sheen of sweat that had coursed off her drenched body. "Tell me what you want. Exactly."

Lois shook with rage and need. It felt muggy in the office—hot and sticky, a feeling of wet warmth all over her body. Two of the most prim, proper people she knew, talking to each other like whores, getting a charge out of acting like master and slave. It was almost a game.

"Your cock!" Lana barked. "Your long, hard cock with all its cum! I want it in me." She smiled darkly, remembering how precise Clark wanted her to be. "I want it in my cunt."

Lois looked down, suddenly noticing her hand had wandered to her sex.

Now that Lana had admitted what she wanted, Clark gave it to her, as hard as she could take it. Each determined thrust sent peals of her juices running down her body. Lana groaned with pain at the first furious invasion, but her cries quickly turned to ecstasy.

Lois had taken her hand away from her cunt, but only a few inches. Now she returned it. It wasn't just how hard Clark was fucking Lana. It was that it was Lana Lang was being fucked.

It didn't take Lana long to come—it didn't even take long for her to have multiple orgasms—and soon, Clark was done with her, finishing while Lana was still half-conscious. Just before he let himself shoot, he pulled himself from her cunt and shoved his cock in her face. As Lana gasped out her latest orgasm, oblivious to the world, Clark spurted all over his face. Once she realized what it was dripping into her mouth, she eagerly drank the massive load he had poured upon her. Licking her lips as she slumped to the mattress, drained of energy.

"Okay, what the fuck!" Lois demanded, bursting into the room with no less drama than if she were waving a loaded gun around. "I married you first, I have seniority, I never said it was her turn! You should still be fucking me!" She glanced at Lana's spread-eagled, unclad body, trying hard not to notice the luscious pink slit in her red-haired pussy, or the tongue still working at cleaning her own face of cum. Christ, she was lapping it off the tip of her nose...

Clark smiled at her. "Lois, you're just going to have to learn how to share."

"She's the one who's not sharing!" Lois insisted. "She stole you in the middle of our date!"

"You were unconscious," Clark pointed out.

"Haven't you ever heard of spooning!?" Lois demanded, kicking the bed.

Instead of replying, Clark stood up off the bed, allowing Lana to relax into a practically liquid repose. Walking to Lois, he took her tanktop by the hem and gently pulled it over her head. Lois instinctively moved to cover herself—her bra having been meant to seduce him, and exposing as much as it hid—but with his quiet, understated firmness, Clark took her hands, petting them with his thumbs, and lowered them down to her sides. When he took his hands away, Lois left her arms there, on display to both Clark and Lana. She was still trembling.

She stood stiffly, unsure what to say or do, but trusting Clark bone-deep as he removed her bra as well. She was deeply embarrassed, completely unsure what was happening, but she saw how Lana's eyes widened at the size of her uncovered bust—perhaps she had believed it all to be padding or silicone, as she'd implied quite a few times—and was a little gratified with how impressed Lana was. Then Clark put his hands on her cheeks, holding her steady for a quick kiss against her forehead—Lois's lips parted helplessly, wishing it was his mouth against hers—and she turned her head, hiding her face in Clark's comforting grip as he brushed his face through her wavy black hair.

"You're not looking at her," Clark said, his sheer force of personality turning Lois toward Lana's lush young body against the reporter's better judgment—or fear.

"Why should I?" Lois asked, her voice too loud, too petulant, sounding shattering against Clark's deliberately quiet words.

"Look at her," Clark commanded, in a soft way that brought only a willingness to please and not disappoint. Even Lois didn't want to rebel against such an voiced order.

She darted an embarrassed glance at Lana: her luscious body, her perky breasts, her blood-red hair, all so endearingly primitive with her competitive fashion and holier-than-thou attitude stripped away... literally. Covered in sweat, gently indulging herself in unhurried breaths, even blushing scarlet under Lois's gaze, Lana struck her as beautiful. Something Lois had known intellectually—of course, her rival for Superman would be beautiful, as beautiful as her even—but she'd never really felt that beauty. Not the way Clark wanted her to.