Superman & Lois: A Bigger Family

How many weeks, months, years did it take to put back together a broken life?

Lois didn't know—at this point, she'd been with Clark for so long that it was like he'd always been there for her. Even when she'd miscarried, she'd had him.

Lana wasn't so fortunate. Her marriage had been unhappy to begin with—or rather, it had become so by the time the Kents had come back into her life. Then her husband had been taken from her, possessed by a long-dead Kryptonian. They'd been able to cure some of Edge's victims, but not all of them. And not Kyle. He was gone, and whatever he might've done to save his marriage was now forever denied to his widow.

Lois couldn't know what she was going through, but it felt like that added insult to injury—robbed Lana of closure. If they'd separated, there might've been a note of finality to it. If he'd died while they were on better terms, than at least Lana would have her memories. Instead, a cut that should've been clean and precise was messy and painful and festering.

For months now, the Kents had practically taken Lana in. Tending to her children, running errands for her, trying to clear all the space they could for her to work through the feelings that they felt responsible for, letting Edge get away with his crimes for as long as he had. Lois knew Lana blamed herself too. Even if Kyle had gone behind Lana's back to join Edge's program, it was still impossible for her to blame him. It was even hard to blame Edge—Lana was too sweet to properly hate the man who was, in the end, truly responsible for it all.

At least Lois had a sense of pride in her family. Jonathan and Jordan were sweethearts, acting as brotherly as could be to Lana's girls, while Clark was a model godfather to them and Lois herself tried to play aunt. Lois also felt a streak of guilt running through that pride. As troubled as her family was, she still had it. She had Clark. She knew what a good man he was, knew how much better Lana's life would've been if things had worked out with her and him. It made Lois almost feel like she'd stolen something from Lana. Maimed her, even.

That Kent sense of responsibility was powerful stuff.

So here they were, spending another night in with a bottle of wine. Lois's boys had taken out Lana's girls, who of course appreciated a night on the town more than an evening in with the grown-ups, so all there was to do was nurse Lana through her moroseness.

Clark told stories about growing up in Smallville, stories Lana could half-finish, but didn't. Usually, Lois would feel a bit excluded by these shared memories, but with Lana so maudlin, she wished she could go back to her worried paranoia that Lana would steal her high school beau back from Lois.

It felt almost obscene to her, having Clark, his comforting warmth that she would hold onto in the night—that she could kiss and caress and feel anytime she wanted, while Lana was shut out. She could look but not touch; see their togetherness but not have it herself. It seemed so unfair.

At least Lana knew when to call it quits with the wine. When she finished her third glass, she set it down on the coffee table with resounding finality. "Thanks for staying up with me, but all I really feel like doing is going to bed early. I've taken up too much of your time anyway. You mind if I use your guest room again? I'll get some rest and you can do whatever you want to do."

"All we really want to do tonight is keep you company," Clark assured her, "but if you need your rest, you need your rest."

Lana ran her tongue along the inside of her mouth, twisting her hips a little to the left and to the right. "Maybe what I really need is just to be in a house that doesn't feel so empty. I always get such a good night's rest over here. I'd be over all the time if you didn't need your privacy."

Lana was facing Clark, so Lois came up behind her, wrapping her arms around Lana's waist in a supportive embrace, her chin set on Lana's shoulder. "Hey, you are never intruding on us. We're here for you. As far as Clark and I are concerned, you're family. This place is as much yours as ours."

"You know Ma," Clark added, coming forward to wrap both women up in an enormous bear-hug. "She wouldn't want anything else—for any of us."

Lana took a deep breath, her lithe body heaving against both husband and wife, and Lois finally felt, gratifyingly, like they were getting through to her. Like Lana's walls were coming down, some of that sea of inconsolable grief inside her finally leaking out. She heard a sniffle and knew there was a tear on Lana's cheek. She nuzzled her face to Lana's.

Big, tall Clark couldn't stoop to hug Lana like she could, but his stalwart, masculine physique was its own kind of comfort. Lois petted his chest as she hugged Lana, all her jealousy put aside. It was hard not to be a little envious of how Lana had gotten to have Clark in her life for so long, but now, she was just grateful that she had such a good man, who could give so much of himself to a friend, be partners with her as they both tried to help Lana back to her feet.

Then Lois felt Clark stiffen, a palpable tension now in the air. Lois was too attuned to Clark's moods to make any mistake. And she knew the man—he wasn't the innocuous hayseed he'd pretended to be so often in Metropolis. As Superman, he'd seen pretty much everything under the sun. So the only thing that could really embarrass him was if he'd sensed something sexual, something Lana was doing, something she was feeling. And it wasn't hard to guess what that was, with Lana wrapped in Clark's arms.

Lois was not patient, Lois was decisive. A long time ago, when she didn't know Clark and Superman could count their differences on a pair of spectacles, she'd gotten used to the idea of being in love with both of them. Comfortable with the notion of sharing, since, after all, she was the one being shared. Obviously, it hadn't exactly come up, but Lois hadn't gotten prudish now that she was a mom. Now she saw a way to finally get through to Lana, to really help her, and all it required was that she share Clark. Well, she already shared him with the whole world—and most days, she liked the world a lot less than she did Lana.

She pulled Lana aside, an arm wrapped around her shoulders. "Lana, before you call it a night, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Lois," Lana replied.

Clark picked up the wine bottle and put the cork back into it. He seemed relieved no longer to be noticing Lana's reaction to him. Lois knew he'd feel guilty about it, feel it was his fault Lana had gotten turned on, but she had no intention of raking either of them over the coals. Lana was probably equally embarrassed. They'd need Lois to put that squeamishness behind them.

"I know things with you and Kyle," Lois paused, "that they weren't where you wanted them to be before he passed. But I have to ask—when was the last time the two of you were intimate?"

Lana blinked in disbelief, sobering with shock. "Lois, how can you ask me that?" she demanded, sounding hurt.

She tried to pull away, but Lois wouldn't let her. "Wait, wait. I was just thinking... maybe that's why you've had such a hard time moving on. You really suffered a double loss. Not only was your husband taken from you, but even before that, you lost being touched, being loved... being made to feel beautiful. The things every woman deserves. Especially one as kind and as gorgeous as you are."

Tears were welling up in Lana's eyes. Clark nervously kneaded the bottle in his hands. "Lois, maybe we should pick this up some other time—"

"Why not now?" Lois insisted. "This is when she's feeling it, so why shouldn't we talk about how she feels?"

"Do you want to humiliate me?" Lana brought her hand up, cleaning her eyes of tears with the back of her fist. "Make me admit that I'm jealous of you, having Clark... embarrass me for still wanting him after all these years?"

"No, that's not what I want at all. I... You're a good person, Lana. No one here wants anything but for you to be happy. Even just to want to be happy. For so long, I've watched you barely be able to get up in the morning, you want so little to do with the world. And now you want something. How could I possibly deny it to you?"

Lana blinked, the incensed look easily leaving her face—like she didn't have the strength to stay angry—replaced with a look of befuddlement. "What are you talking about? You think I want your husband... and you're—you don't..."

Clark tried to play peacemaker, just like he'd stop a train from derailing. "Look, we've all had a good bit of wine, maybe we should continue this conversation in the morning, when we're well-rested..."

"Why wait?" Lana turned to him, some fire finally in her eyes. "I've wanted you since the third grade. I had you in high school and I lost you and I still want you. God, if I were going to stop wanting you, it would've happened by now. But every time I see you... and I just keep seeing you, because now you're here, where I live, and I'm supposed to stop thinking about you."

Lois approached her from behind, her hands lightly landing on Lana's shoulders, reassuringly squeezing and massaging at the tension now knotting up Lana's body. The tension she was just now letting show.

"If he were yours," Lois whispered, "and I loved him the way you do... would you let me have him?"

Lana turned her head slightly to the side, enough to see Lois behind her, but enough to keep looking at Clark. She eyed him like a skittish deer, like a bird that had landed on her outstretched hand. Like she was worried if she looked away, he'd fly off, might never even have been real in the first place.

"If he loved you the way he does now," Lana said slowly, "I could never stand between you."

Clark sighed deeply. He had to drag the admission out from deep inside him, and he would've thought doing it in front of Lois would make it difficult, but instead, it was like she gave him absolution. "I've never stopped loving you. I just started loving Lois too."

"Then why don't we all do something about it?"

Lois's hands traced down Lana's flanks to her midriff, where her white tanktop met her blue jeans. They skirted her belt to the buckle. Lois worked the clasp open, Lana holding her hands carefully abreast, making sure to let Lois do it. Like it was a blessing she was being sure to receive.

"What did you do?" Lois breathed in Lana's ear. "When he was yours?"

She unzipped Lana's fly.

"He never had me, never took me... oh God," Lana whimpered. "I was his—I would've given him everything—but we never did anything about it. We just kissed... and touched... and I let him lick me. I would've let him do anything..."

"Of course. But all he wants to do is appreciate us," Lois said with a wry grin, as she tugged Lana's jeans down until she took over, kicking them off her bare feet. "Smartest guy I know, but too dumb to realize what we really appreciate..."

Lana's panties were white and lacey, crowning her firm thighs, combining with her white tanktop to look like lingerie on Lana's magnificent body. Age and two children hadn't diminished her body at all, they'd merely given her thick thighs and proud breasts, gorgeously swelling out the front of her tanktop with no bra in the way.

Lois's hands caressed Lana's thigh, petted her groin. Lana closed her eyes and keened.

"You got him to lick you. Let's pick up where you left off. Clark, would you please lick Lana's cunt?"

Lana trilled like she'd had a small orgasm, heard a word that gave her permission to come. She went willingly as Lois pulled her down into an easy chair with her, down onto her lap, and she spread her legs wide, too overwhelmed to realize she still had her panties on.

"Get her panties too, Clark," Lois purred politely, still holding Lana in her lap, feeling how the other woman's body vibrated, a pulse of electricity entering her with every word Lois spoke. Shocking her back to ecstatic, sensual life. "She won't be needing them."

One look through Lana's thin, wet panties at her sex and Clark had all the license he needed. The motivation was already there—to please both the women he loved, to give Lana what she needed and Lois what she wanted.

He ripped away Lana's panties like tissue paper, then dropped to his knees between her legs. Between her legs and Lois's.

"Make me come, Clark," Lana whined. Lois kissed her cheek in reward for wanting, for finally wanting something for herself.

Clark leaned toward Lana's pussy. It seemed such a fiery cauldron to his enhanced senses that he feared to stoke the flame any hotter, even as his prick throbbed wildly in his pants and his breath came in ragged gasps. But Lana called to him, a siren song, her legs spread lewdly, needfully. Without Lois to serve as a reason not to, he had no defense whatsoever. He could only lick his lips in anticipation of this new, old taste.

"Lick me, Clark. Please lick me..."

Her groin jumped into the air, pumping itself against Clark's open mouth. He could smell arousal slipping and sliding on every fold of her sex, ready to ease his passage inside her. His eyes flicked up to Lois and he could see that she was aroused by the enticing scent. Not just permitting him this, but sharing it with him. Lana noticed it too, leaning back into Lois's body, rubbing herself against his wife in grateful ardor.

"I want you to lick me until I come," Lana cooed. She wasn't quite pleading, or even flirting, but sharing a secret with him and Lois that was as much a confession as a come-on. "It's been so long since I've come... I feel like such a—"

"Shh, shh," Lois breathed in her ear. "It's not your fault. And it's not being unfair to... him. It's just the way things were. Let them go. All that matters is what's happening right now."

Carefully, Clark pinched the hem of Lana's tanktop between his thumbs and forefingers, holding its bottom out of the way as he ducked his head and ran his tongue over Lana's slit. Both he and his wife felt Lana starting at his touch, her pussy trembling, becoming wetter than ever. Her midsection jerked spasmodically. Lois put her hands on her belly, feeling how Lana's slender abs coiled and tensed at the touch of Clark's mouth.

"That's good, isn't it?" Lois whispered to Lana. They shared a smile, Lois's cocky as usual, Lana's a little frayed and disbelieving. "Yeah." Lois rested her forehead against Lana's. "That feels good to you. Go ahead. Enjoy it. Don't you know how much Clark likes it when a woman is enjoying herself?"

"It—" Lana began breathlessly. "It just feels so fucking nice!"

Lois tittered in a little laugh and like that had finally pulled Lana fully to the other side of her reluctance, suddenly she was grabbing Clark's hair and pulling him deeper between her thighs. Her legs scissored together, locking around his neck, and she rocked her cunt against his lapping tongue. Lois had to hold on tight to her as she rutted and bucked hard enough to throw herself out of the reporter's lap.

"Oh! OHH! I almost forgot how much a tongue can do in—in my pussy!" Lana husked, half moaning, half laughing. "Shit, Clark, do my clit now! Lick my clit! LICK MY LITTLE CLIT!"

His nose nuzzled into her pubic thatch, brushing against her clitoris, and Lana's whole body jolted with the contact. At the same instant, in a burst of sudden impulsiveness, Clark thrust his tongue into her pussy with Lana still reeling from having her clit toyed with.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuuuck!" Lana gasped. "This is amazing!"

She ground her sex against his mouth in a slow, ecstatic circle, trying to fuck herself on every taste bud of his tongue. His mouth was sealed to her pussy, his tongue deep inside her, his lips kissing her labia.

"Eat me, Clark!" she cried shrilly. "Eat all of me! I want your tongue hard and deep... I want it to set me off!"

"You heard her, Smallville," Lois said smugly, gratified to find that Lana was having much the same reaction to Clark as she did. "Show her just how much she gets to enjoy having your tongue in her snatch."

She'd always been a little worried that she was just something of a slut, maybe even a fetishist, enjoying sex with her alien husband as much as she did. But no. If a badass like Lana Lang couldn't resist him, no woman could. The man just knew how to eat pussy.

Clark swished his tongue from side to side, pressing it against the trembling walls of Lana's passage. It sunk deeply into the soft moistness of her. Her inner muscles contracted all around it, as if trying to suck it deeper into her. Clark pulled his tongue back, licking his way out of her crushing pressure.

Lana moaned with disappointment to relinquish him. Tightening her grip even harder, as if trying to pull his dark hair out by the roots, she yanked him back to her. Ground her hips into his face, smearing her sexual wetness all over his sculpted features, her mons tingling as they felt the roughness of his stubble. Discomforting as that was, it increased her passion instead of diminishing this. Nothing, it seemed, could stop her rocketing ascent.

Clark stroked his hands along Lois and Lana's legs, finally cupping them underneath Lana's tensed buttocks, allowing him to pull her to where he wanted her to be without her erratic yanking throwing him off. Once in place, he lapped eagerly, tonguing his way from her clit down to her opening in long strokes. Until a shuddering spasm wrenched through Lana, coming out of her mouth in a dazed moan.

"I'm going to come, Clark... come from you licking me... your tongue in my little box..." she sighed like a woman already overwhelmed by pleasure. Only in Lana's eyes sparked the intensity of what she was feeling. Otherwise, she seemed hypnotized by the sheer magnitude of the pleasure he was bringing her.

Clark kept licking over her clit, aware of how intensely she was feeling his efforts from the shudders that pealed through her luscious body. He tongued down hard on her clit, pressing it back into its protective bud, until only the super-sensitive tip was accepting his lapping tongue. He stroked the tip frantically, like he was kindling a fire, pleasuring Lana in a wild rhythmic beat that extended from her burgeoning clit to the inner folds of her slippery pussy, quivers of ecstasy shooting out of both at the end of his tongue.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" Lana trilled, eyes crossing like she'd been struck dumb. But even in a fugue state, she managed to vocalize all she was feeling. "I'm coming! Coming! OOOHHHHH!"

Her hips pumped at Clark's handsome face, as though trying to discourage him from eking even more rapture out of her battered clit. He licked it, lashed it with his tongue, laved it, and all but swallowed it. He felt Lana explode from her clit into the rest of her body.

"You did it; made me do it!" Lana groaned. "I finally came! Shit, Clark, thank you! Thank you so much for making me COME!"

Her body quaked from the fringe of her hair to the tips of her toes. Clark could feel the convulsions claiming her. She broke like a dam, all the pleasure her body could possibly hold stored up behind her repression. Lana tensed, stiffened, relaxed, then clenched in one long gush of her cream, spilling forth from her endlessly pleasured sex as she moaned in delirious enjoyment.

"Keep me coming, I need to keep coming!" she pleaded. "God, Lois, don't let him stop! Make him keep his tongue in my pussy! I wanna come again!"

Lois ran her fingers through Lana's hair, petted her shuddering body. As much as she enjoyed feeling the flaring heat of Lana's flesh through the thin layer of cotton that made up her tanktop, and the curves underneath, she equally enjoyed feeling Lana's bare, supple skin on her arms and thighs. The layer of sweat provoked by Clark's ministrations made it divinely slippery; she could feel how Lana was enjoying being eaten out by Clark as much as she ever had.