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roxyThere is no excuse for this other than I'm a perv and other people enable that perviness. *eyeballs you know who, because you know who gave me an outline and lots of ideas and...well, as you can see, I'm just an innocent bystander*
Let me just dish this up for you, and just for fun, it's Clark/Other, first time, humor, (i hope!) and rated...mmm...4. Yes, I think 4 covers it. Please to be enjoying a tasty slice of cheese!
The First Week
“Why? We’ve never spent any time with them before. Why now?”
“Clark! Your father is trying to re-connect with his family, we need to support that.”
Clark felt a quick stab of guilt that he tried to hide from his mother. “It’s a nice way for us to be re-acquainted with your dad’s side of the family,” she continued.
“Yeah, I guess. It’s just that…never mind.” It was just that he wanted to spend time with Lex, who’d been suddenly so darned busy the last few weeks. He missed him. He wanted to get calls from him in the middle of the night, and pizza and bad movies and he missed his smirky smiles and the sly little comments about ‘the Smallvillians’ and… “All right, don’t worry, I’ll behave.”
Martha leaned back in her chair and set the paring knife down. She pushed the bowl of peeled potatoes in front of Clark. “Rinse. And I want you to do more than behave. I want you to be friendly. I want Bo to have a good time.”
“Bo. What the heck kind of name is that? What--does he have a pet hog too? Does he even own shoes?”
“Clark!”
He rolled his eyes and dumped the rinsed potatoes into a colander to drain. “Mom, you’re sentencing me to hang out with a guy named Bo. People who are indoor plumbing challenged name their kids Bo.”
“Clark.” A warning tone in the voice made him blush. His dad stood in the doorway, wiping his hands hard and looking much less than pleased.
“Son, I’m sorry to hear you judge someone solely on the basis of their name.”
Clark almost laughed aloud. Did his dad hear himself or not? What the hell—how was it okay to judge his best friend on the basis of his name, a very classy, sexy name, at that—but not some guy named Bo, for god’s sake? Just because it was family? That single statement made up Clark’s mind. He was going to be civil to this jerk and no more than that.
The Second Week
A truck even older and more beat up than theirs drove up in a cloud of dust that spread across the dry front lawn and floated in the hot dry air to lodge itself in the back of Clark’s throat. It was so hot the damn air felt crispy—like trying to breathe in powdered toast and Clark was pretty much as crabby as a person could get. “Oh good, Jethro’s here,” he muttered.
His mom opened the screen at the sound of the truck door creaking open. “Clark, you behave yourself…oh my…” her voiced trailed off as a young blonde got out of the truck and waved. He reached around to the back and pulled a fat stuffed duffle bag out.
He was dressed okay, he wasn’t shirtless and wearing overalls with a strap hanging down at least …he was wearing fairly new looking Tims and he didn’t look as country as he thought he would considering…Bo. Except for the poufy cloud of really, really blonde hair. Any longer in the back and it’s be a mullet….
He turned to look at his mom, and she looked like she was looking at a ghost.
His dad and Bo were strolling up the drive and his dad called out, “Clark, come meet your cousin.”
Cousin Bo stuck his hand out. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Unh-hunh…yeah, likewise.”
Bo lifted an eyebrow and grinned at Clark like he was a mildly clever cocker spaniel. “Like wise? Heh.” He turned to his mom. “Hey, Aunt Martha. It’s nice to finally meet you. We heard a lot about you.”
She smiled, a little quick lifting her lip. “I’m sure you did.”
Her husband quickly interrupted. “Well, Bo, how about we have Clark show you to your room? Give you a chance to air out after the trip?”
Bo grinned. “Sure, I could stand to get out of these clothes. It was a hot dusty ride, I’ll tell you.”
Clark stood. “Come on then, we’ll get you settled.” He turned to stomp up the porch steps and heard his mother say, “Oh my god, Jonathan!”
“I know,” his dad replied. “Weird, hunh?”
Later that day, Clark found out what had startled his mother. Bo looked like his dad. Just like him. Jealously reared it’s seriously ugly head and took a chomp. This was the son they might have had, instead of him, the big old alien cuckoo…well, not quite but it still stung a bit. Especially the way they made a fuss over him. And he sucked it up too. Creep.
The Third Week
Bo was everywhere, taking on chores Clark would normally do--helping Dad in the fields, working on that old antique tractor of his, hanging out in the kitchen with his mom, making her giggle, forcing his way along on his trips to the Talon, getting lots and lots of free cappuccinos with extras and stuff, and making his friends get all googly eyed over him and in general pissing Clark off the heck off with his stupid smile and shiny blue eyes. Like it was a big deal.
Lex had blue eyes too; no one made a fuss over them. Okay, Lex wouldn’t allow it but still. And what was with the sleeveless shirts. 80’s much? Gee. And he had too much hair, all that poufy blonde hair and Lana and Chloe made a big fuss over it. So what. Any body could have poufy hair. It was not having hair and still looking edible, that was sexy….
Clark threw himself back on the couch and growled. Loud. Dust drifted down from the loft rafters.
And for crying out loud, could you could get a pair of jeans tighter…the jerk had no fashion sense--even he could see that! And did anyone call him on it? No—it was Bo this and Bo that and Clark lose the flannel—loose the K-Mart boots…so unfair. Clark rolled to his side. Tight jeans. You could practically see his ass hair, disgusting…the way those jeans squeezed him…Clark yawned, his eyes sank shut…didn’t they hurt his dick. So tight, like a hand, a big old hand….
Clark rolled to his back and a hand skimmed over his dick. He opened his eyes and looked up.
Bo?
Clark…I’ve wanted to do this since I first saw you. I got tired of waiting for you to take the hint; it’s been a whole week. You’re hot Clark. So fucking hot.
Clark’s throat went dry and he nodded. Bo was right, he was hot, burning up, and his heart was pounding in his chest and something else was happening. Bo leaned closer, his breath puffing soft and warm against Clark’s face. You look good enough to eat. I’m going to eat you up, suck the meat right off your bones, lick up every drop of you, drink you …
Clark thought maybe he should be scared because he was talking like a flesh eating zombie guy, but he looked hot as hell, the words and the look on his cousin’s face was making him feel like he stood in a shower of fire. He was panting, and Bo was unbuttoning his shirt, button by button and looking at him. The heat in his crotch was unbelievable, it felt so good-- he was squirming, and sweating, wanting to touch himself but not in front of Bo. Bo leaned over, his face only inches from his crotch and Clark desperately hoped he wasn’t a flesh-eating zombie guy because—god-- couldn’t move, all he could do was moan and shake …Bo’s tongue peaked out between his lips, pink and wet and, yes, thank you, he was going to—oh!
“Oh!” Clark jerked, his gut clenched and he jerked again, and heat flowed over him, his chest, his belly, his legs, he gasped, and his dick jerked again…what the hell…oh my god. He lay stunned for a second before he sat up and grimaced. Wet. He just…a wet dream. He’d had a wet dream. About…Bo?
“Holy crap.”
Bo.
He looked down at the spreading wet spot on his jeans. Crap. Crap. He looked around the loft desperately and his eyes landed on a pair of cutoffs from, geez, it had to be from last summer.
He hoped they were going to fit because no way was he going to walk back to the house all wet and gloopy. He heard voices down below—Dad and Bo—oh god. He used speed to pull his wet jeans and boxers off and squeeze into the cut-offs. Wow, he grew a lot since last year. He sucked in and snapped the cut-offs closed.
Ouch.
A lot.
He yanked down on the legs of the shorts. A whole lot--damn. Okay, he was out-Bo-ing Bo now, but all he had to do was make it to the house and he was home free. He took a step towards the stairs. He was going to super speed to the house, and hope Dad would cover for him.
“Clark! You up there? Come on down, son.” Crap!
Bo was looking up the loft stairs and of course, the snap on his shorts had to give way then.
His dad looked up at him and both of them looked… baffled.
“Clark?”
Think, think think—“Hey Dad, thought I’d ask Bo if he wanted to go swimming, ah, at the lake?”good save Kent!
“Oh!” His dad smiled, obviously the shorts had been explained. Bo just kept looking at him, a weird expression on his face. <>I’m going to eat you up, suck the meat...<> Clark blushed violently. And yanked the legs of his shorts down a bit more. Which meant there was a lot more navel area exposed…Bo’s eyes widened and he spoke quickly. “Come on then Clark, lets go!”
“Well, I thought I’d change-- these shorts are smaller than I--”
“Naaaw! What for? It’s just a swimming hole, right? What do we need to get dressed for?” He grinned at Jonathan and Jonathan grinned back.
“See you guys after lunch, I guess.” He wandered back to the house, whistling.
Bo waited until he was out of sight and said to Clark, “We just skinny dip back home.” and grinned. Clark blushed and yanked a little more.
The ride out to the swimming spot was a little slice of bubbling warm hell with no ice cream—his damn cutoffs kept riding up and his stuff kept trying to make a break for it and Bo kept looking at him like he was crazy. Crap. Maybe he was. What the hell had gotten into him? Bo was driving and telling him some big involved story about some other cousins, and some sheriff guy where he lived, and all sheriffs must be a pain in the ass, this guy sure was, and then he was saying something about a picture of his folks and reaching out to the glove compartment.
A couple of things happened, they took a corner hard, what little pants leg he had slid way up, and the back of Bo’s hand slid over his—his—dick—and it was instantly hard. Harder…hard as...he yanked his shorts down so hard he almost pulled them to his knees—oh god!!!
“Hey! Look! It’s the lake!! “ Clark was yanking open the door and rolling out of the truck before it came to a complete stop.
Water! Cold! Yes—water! Clark was hurrying to the lakeshore, dashing down the dock and diving into the water before you could say jiminy-cricket. Or Helpohgodhelp.
Bo called out to him from the dock. “Hey Clark—wait up!”
Clark turned in the water just in time to watch Bo pop the snap on his jeans and shimmy out of them—the fact he could even peel them down over his legs was kind of miraculous Clark thought—he’d been willing to bet that they were actually painted on. He was wearing boxers which also surprised Clark—where in those pants was the room for extra fabric? The sun gleamed off of a perfectly hard stomach and muscles shifting and bunching under his skin when he moved his arms and his eyes were so blue, the way the sun made his hair glow—
Clark dropped down below the surface of the water. Ohgod. Harder.
Bo cut through the water like a shark, came up under Clark and knocked him off his feet and Clark’s legs and arms were pin wheeling as he went ass over teakettle.
He burst to the surface, snorting out nosefuls of water and coughing and pretty damn steamed. Bo floated just out of reach and snickered.
“That was entertaining. Better than cow-tipping any day.”
“You think that was funny?” Clark swept his arm through the water, a little harder than a human could and Bo was spluttering and gasping. “Hey!”
He headed towards Clark with murder in his ice-blue eyes, his hair hung in his face and he blew little sprays of water out and next thing Clark knew, he was swarming over him and howling like a loon and wrapping his legs around him and trying to tip him over again.
Right. Clark snorted and reached up and pulled at him, but just managed to slide him down— and that was a very bad move.
His head snapped back and he groaned—geez, those boxers might as well not be on, he could feel every thing, all hard and hot and wet—he looked at Bo accusingly. *He* was hard too—bastard!
Bo reached down in the water and grabbed Clark’s hand. “Clark--” he pulled Clark’s hand to him, almost pulled it against his crotch but Clark was there without coaxing. “God—you’re—it’s--um…wow. Hard. Nice”
Bo walked backward and Clark followed him and didn’t let go of his handful, wondered briefly if he should, ‘cause maybe it was dangerous. They walked higher out of the water, until it was lapping at their knees.
Clark squeezed and pumped Bo slowly and they kissed and Bo was a great kisser—when he leaned back and let go of Clark’s mouth, he was breathless and his lips felt smooth as glass. He let go of him, just for a second and touched his mouth.wow.
Bo grinned, sank to his knees and licked and sucked the water off Clark’s dick, he groaned, it tried to twitch, but was trapped against his leg by the short shorts, at the mercy of Bo who licked and nibbled and tortured him-- it was hotter than anything he’d ever imagined ever, ever.
Clark yipped and rocked and tried hard not to grab him.Please don’t let me break him please don’t let me break him
Bo slid back up Clark’s body and it felt so good, he cursed and grabbed his hips and held him in place so he could rub and rub and rub against Bo’s hard leg, rocking and shaking and—
“Wait, wait,” Bo gasped and pulled Clark‘s short’s down. His dick leaped up, giddy with freedom and tried to press against his belly.
“Wow, Clark, how do you walk with that thing”…Bo slid his boxers down and they floated off like a pin-striped cotton jellyfish, gone forever—he gathered Clark’s dick against his own, and moved, “Move with me Clark, put your hand over mine…see, push into it.”
Clark felt his ass cheeks squeeze as he pushed forward—was this something Bo and his friends did?
That ripped a groan out of him, just the idea of Bo doing this with other guys, squeezing and pumping and grunting and some vague other thoughts involving mouths and fingers that made his gut hurt with hot and heavy…
Clark’s dick rubbed over and caught against the other’s ridge and slid and caught and—stars and oh, not breathing…Bo’s eyes were bluer than the sky, and wide and round like a kids, and his hair was drying, curling up and the sun was shining through it and making it glow like gold and Clark wanted more than anything to feel his mouth on him again—he wondered would Bo like it if he sucked him. Clark grunted, and shook, and Bo moaned.oh yes!
“Here, put your hand here--”
Clark did what he said because after all Bo was the expert here. Bo pulled his hand over his hip, slid it lower and back until he was cradling his ass, and then pushed back until Clark’s fingers slipped into the warm cleft and stroked over the pucker there. Oh my god…oh my—okay, it wasn’t like he hadn’t done it to himself once or twice. Possibly more times…but this, this was *worlds* better. He pushed slowly against that pucker until it opened to him and his finger slid in, nice and slow.
Bo gasped and his dick quivered and slid in their joined hands and spit a little jet of pre-come, “God, that’s good that’s it, deeper, like that, more, Clark I’m going to come, I’m--”
Clark jerked forward and just like in his dream he was coming with out stop, without warning, his orgasm just leaped out of no-where,kicked him in the gut and danced off with his brain and only left him one word—coming! Coming--”
“Ah--fuck *me*!”
“What—now?” Clark groaned and that was too bad, because he was kind of busy coming and yelling and almost passing out—
The Fourth Week
Clark watched Bo’s truck disappear in the distance and smiled sadly. It had been a most enlightening week, but it was over now. He was kind of sad about that---he’d miss Bo, he’d miss the sex, too—
A car pulled up to the shoulder of the road.
“Clark! There you are, I haven’t seen much of you the last couple of weeks—feel up to a cup of coffee?” Lex’s smile revealed pearly teeth, and his eyes sparkled and he looked like an ice cream cone, only not really, Clark just wanted to lick him like one. He got in the car. Fast.
Lex turned to him and his wide smile turned into a slow, familiar smile, only now, it pulled an invisible string in his gut that was connected to his brain--the part that whispered, get your pants off—
“I suppose you’re going to miss your cousin, hmm?”
Clark leaned back against the seat and gave Lex his smile right back. “A little. Say, you feel like driving out to the lake?” and listened to Lex’s heart beat spike—he’d know it anywhere now; he’d been listening to it all month.
Clark smirked. “So, Lex what have you been doing the last couple of weeks?”
Lex answered blandly but his ears were bright red and his heart was hammering. “Bird watching.” He said with the straightest face possible.
9-14-2005
Let me just dish this up for you, and just for fun, it's Clark/Other, first time, humor, (i hope!) and rated...mmm...4. Yes, I think 4 covers it. Please to be enjoying a tasty slice of cheese!
The First Week
“Why? We’ve never spent any time with them before. Why now?”
“Clark! Your father is trying to re-connect with his family, we need to support that.”
Clark felt a quick stab of guilt that he tried to hide from his mother. “It’s a nice way for us to be re-acquainted with your dad’s side of the family,” she continued.
“Yeah, I guess. It’s just that…never mind.” It was just that he wanted to spend time with Lex, who’d been suddenly so darned busy the last few weeks. He missed him. He wanted to get calls from him in the middle of the night, and pizza and bad movies and he missed his smirky smiles and the sly little comments about ‘the Smallvillians’ and… “All right, don’t worry, I’ll behave.”
Martha leaned back in her chair and set the paring knife down. She pushed the bowl of peeled potatoes in front of Clark. “Rinse. And I want you to do more than behave. I want you to be friendly. I want Bo to have a good time.”
“Bo. What the heck kind of name is that? What--does he have a pet hog too? Does he even own shoes?”
“Clark!”
He rolled his eyes and dumped the rinsed potatoes into a colander to drain. “Mom, you’re sentencing me to hang out with a guy named Bo. People who are indoor plumbing challenged name their kids Bo.”
“Clark.” A warning tone in the voice made him blush. His dad stood in the doorway, wiping his hands hard and looking much less than pleased.
“Son, I’m sorry to hear you judge someone solely on the basis of their name.”
Clark almost laughed aloud. Did his dad hear himself or not? What the hell—how was it okay to judge his best friend on the basis of his name, a very classy, sexy name, at that—but not some guy named Bo, for god’s sake? Just because it was family? That single statement made up Clark’s mind. He was going to be civil to this jerk and no more than that.
The Second Week
A truck even older and more beat up than theirs drove up in a cloud of dust that spread across the dry front lawn and floated in the hot dry air to lodge itself in the back of Clark’s throat. It was so hot the damn air felt crispy—like trying to breathe in powdered toast and Clark was pretty much as crabby as a person could get. “Oh good, Jethro’s here,” he muttered.
His mom opened the screen at the sound of the truck door creaking open. “Clark, you behave yourself…oh my…” her voiced trailed off as a young blonde got out of the truck and waved. He reached around to the back and pulled a fat stuffed duffle bag out.
He was dressed okay, he wasn’t shirtless and wearing overalls with a strap hanging down at least …he was wearing fairly new looking Tims and he didn’t look as country as he thought he would considering…Bo. Except for the poufy cloud of really, really blonde hair. Any longer in the back and it’s be a mullet….
He turned to look at his mom, and she looked like she was looking at a ghost.
His dad and Bo were strolling up the drive and his dad called out, “Clark, come meet your cousin.”
Cousin Bo stuck his hand out. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Unh-hunh…yeah, likewise.”
Bo lifted an eyebrow and grinned at Clark like he was a mildly clever cocker spaniel. “Like wise? Heh.” He turned to his mom. “Hey, Aunt Martha. It’s nice to finally meet you. We heard a lot about you.”
She smiled, a little quick lifting her lip. “I’m sure you did.”
Her husband quickly interrupted. “Well, Bo, how about we have Clark show you to your room? Give you a chance to air out after the trip?”
Bo grinned. “Sure, I could stand to get out of these clothes. It was a hot dusty ride, I’ll tell you.”
Clark stood. “Come on then, we’ll get you settled.” He turned to stomp up the porch steps and heard his mother say, “Oh my god, Jonathan!”
“I know,” his dad replied. “Weird, hunh?”
Later that day, Clark found out what had startled his mother. Bo looked like his dad. Just like him. Jealously reared it’s seriously ugly head and took a chomp. This was the son they might have had, instead of him, the big old alien cuckoo…well, not quite but it still stung a bit. Especially the way they made a fuss over him. And he sucked it up too. Creep.
The Third Week
Bo was everywhere, taking on chores Clark would normally do--helping Dad in the fields, working on that old antique tractor of his, hanging out in the kitchen with his mom, making her giggle, forcing his way along on his trips to the Talon, getting lots and lots of free cappuccinos with extras and stuff, and making his friends get all googly eyed over him and in general pissing Clark off the heck off with his stupid smile and shiny blue eyes. Like it was a big deal.
Lex had blue eyes too; no one made a fuss over them. Okay, Lex wouldn’t allow it but still. And what was with the sleeveless shirts. 80’s much? Gee. And he had too much hair, all that poufy blonde hair and Lana and Chloe made a big fuss over it. So what. Any body could have poufy hair. It was not having hair and still looking edible, that was sexy….
Clark threw himself back on the couch and growled. Loud. Dust drifted down from the loft rafters.
And for crying out loud, could you could get a pair of jeans tighter…the jerk had no fashion sense--even he could see that! And did anyone call him on it? No—it was Bo this and Bo that and Clark lose the flannel—loose the K-Mart boots…so unfair. Clark rolled to his side. Tight jeans. You could practically see his ass hair, disgusting…the way those jeans squeezed him…Clark yawned, his eyes sank shut…didn’t they hurt his dick. So tight, like a hand, a big old hand….
Clark rolled to his back and a hand skimmed over his dick. He opened his eyes and looked up.
Bo?
Clark…I’ve wanted to do this since I first saw you. I got tired of waiting for you to take the hint; it’s been a whole week. You’re hot Clark. So fucking hot.
Clark’s throat went dry and he nodded. Bo was right, he was hot, burning up, and his heart was pounding in his chest and something else was happening. Bo leaned closer, his breath puffing soft and warm against Clark’s face. You look good enough to eat. I’m going to eat you up, suck the meat right off your bones, lick up every drop of you, drink you …
Clark thought maybe he should be scared because he was talking like a flesh eating zombie guy, but he looked hot as hell, the words and the look on his cousin’s face was making him feel like he stood in a shower of fire. He was panting, and Bo was unbuttoning his shirt, button by button and looking at him. The heat in his crotch was unbelievable, it felt so good-- he was squirming, and sweating, wanting to touch himself but not in front of Bo. Bo leaned over, his face only inches from his crotch and Clark desperately hoped he wasn’t a flesh-eating zombie guy because—god-- couldn’t move, all he could do was moan and shake …Bo’s tongue peaked out between his lips, pink and wet and, yes, thank you, he was going to—oh!
“Oh!” Clark jerked, his gut clenched and he jerked again, and heat flowed over him, his chest, his belly, his legs, he gasped, and his dick jerked again…what the hell…oh my god. He lay stunned for a second before he sat up and grimaced. Wet. He just…a wet dream. He’d had a wet dream. About…Bo?
“Holy crap.”
Bo.
He looked down at the spreading wet spot on his jeans. Crap. Crap. He looked around the loft desperately and his eyes landed on a pair of cutoffs from, geez, it had to be from last summer.
He hoped they were going to fit because no way was he going to walk back to the house all wet and gloopy. He heard voices down below—Dad and Bo—oh god. He used speed to pull his wet jeans and boxers off and squeeze into the cut-offs. Wow, he grew a lot since last year. He sucked in and snapped the cut-offs closed.
Ouch.
A lot.
He yanked down on the legs of the shorts. A whole lot--damn. Okay, he was out-Bo-ing Bo now, but all he had to do was make it to the house and he was home free. He took a step towards the stairs. He was going to super speed to the house, and hope Dad would cover for him.
“Clark! You up there? Come on down, son.” Crap!
Bo was looking up the loft stairs and of course, the snap on his shorts had to give way then.
His dad looked up at him and both of them looked… baffled.
“Clark?”
Think, think think—“Hey Dad, thought I’d ask Bo if he wanted to go swimming, ah, at the lake?”good save Kent!
“Oh!” His dad smiled, obviously the shorts had been explained. Bo just kept looking at him, a weird expression on his face. <>I’m going to eat you up, suck the meat...<> Clark blushed violently. And yanked the legs of his shorts down a bit more. Which meant there was a lot more navel area exposed…Bo’s eyes widened and he spoke quickly. “Come on then Clark, lets go!”
“Well, I thought I’d change-- these shorts are smaller than I--”
“Naaaw! What for? It’s just a swimming hole, right? What do we need to get dressed for?” He grinned at Jonathan and Jonathan grinned back.
“See you guys after lunch, I guess.” He wandered back to the house, whistling.
Bo waited until he was out of sight and said to Clark, “We just skinny dip back home.” and grinned. Clark blushed and yanked a little more.
The ride out to the swimming spot was a little slice of bubbling warm hell with no ice cream—his damn cutoffs kept riding up and his stuff kept trying to make a break for it and Bo kept looking at him like he was crazy. Crap. Maybe he was. What the hell had gotten into him? Bo was driving and telling him some big involved story about some other cousins, and some sheriff guy where he lived, and all sheriffs must be a pain in the ass, this guy sure was, and then he was saying something about a picture of his folks and reaching out to the glove compartment.
A couple of things happened, they took a corner hard, what little pants leg he had slid way up, and the back of Bo’s hand slid over his—his—dick—and it was instantly hard. Harder…hard as...he yanked his shorts down so hard he almost pulled them to his knees—oh god!!!
“Hey! Look! It’s the lake!! “ Clark was yanking open the door and rolling out of the truck before it came to a complete stop.
Water! Cold! Yes—water! Clark was hurrying to the lakeshore, dashing down the dock and diving into the water before you could say jiminy-cricket. Or Helpohgodhelp.
Bo called out to him from the dock. “Hey Clark—wait up!”
Clark turned in the water just in time to watch Bo pop the snap on his jeans and shimmy out of them—the fact he could even peel them down over his legs was kind of miraculous Clark thought—he’d been willing to bet that they were actually painted on. He was wearing boxers which also surprised Clark—where in those pants was the room for extra fabric? The sun gleamed off of a perfectly hard stomach and muscles shifting and bunching under his skin when he moved his arms and his eyes were so blue, the way the sun made his hair glow—
Clark dropped down below the surface of the water. Ohgod. Harder.
Bo cut through the water like a shark, came up under Clark and knocked him off his feet and Clark’s legs and arms were pin wheeling as he went ass over teakettle.
He burst to the surface, snorting out nosefuls of water and coughing and pretty damn steamed. Bo floated just out of reach and snickered.
“That was entertaining. Better than cow-tipping any day.”
“You think that was funny?” Clark swept his arm through the water, a little harder than a human could and Bo was spluttering and gasping. “Hey!”
He headed towards Clark with murder in his ice-blue eyes, his hair hung in his face and he blew little sprays of water out and next thing Clark knew, he was swarming over him and howling like a loon and wrapping his legs around him and trying to tip him over again.
Right. Clark snorted and reached up and pulled at him, but just managed to slide him down— and that was a very bad move.
His head snapped back and he groaned—geez, those boxers might as well not be on, he could feel every thing, all hard and hot and wet—he looked at Bo accusingly. *He* was hard too—bastard!
Bo reached down in the water and grabbed Clark’s hand. “Clark--” he pulled Clark’s hand to him, almost pulled it against his crotch but Clark was there without coaxing. “God—you’re—it’s--um…wow. Hard. Nice”
Bo walked backward and Clark followed him and didn’t let go of his handful, wondered briefly if he should, ‘cause maybe it was dangerous. They walked higher out of the water, until it was lapping at their knees.
Clark squeezed and pumped Bo slowly and they kissed and Bo was a great kisser—when he leaned back and let go of Clark’s mouth, he was breathless and his lips felt smooth as glass. He let go of him, just for a second and touched his mouth.wow.
Bo grinned, sank to his knees and licked and sucked the water off Clark’s dick, he groaned, it tried to twitch, but was trapped against his leg by the short shorts, at the mercy of Bo who licked and nibbled and tortured him-- it was hotter than anything he’d ever imagined ever, ever.
Clark yipped and rocked and tried hard not to grab him.Please don’t let me break him please don’t let me break him
Bo slid back up Clark’s body and it felt so good, he cursed and grabbed his hips and held him in place so he could rub and rub and rub against Bo’s hard leg, rocking and shaking and—
“Wait, wait,” Bo gasped and pulled Clark‘s short’s down. His dick leaped up, giddy with freedom and tried to press against his belly.
“Wow, Clark, how do you walk with that thing”…Bo slid his boxers down and they floated off like a pin-striped cotton jellyfish, gone forever—he gathered Clark’s dick against his own, and moved, “Move with me Clark, put your hand over mine…see, push into it.”
Clark felt his ass cheeks squeeze as he pushed forward—was this something Bo and his friends did?
That ripped a groan out of him, just the idea of Bo doing this with other guys, squeezing and pumping and grunting and some vague other thoughts involving mouths and fingers that made his gut hurt with hot and heavy…
Clark’s dick rubbed over and caught against the other’s ridge and slid and caught and—stars and oh, not breathing…Bo’s eyes were bluer than the sky, and wide and round like a kids, and his hair was drying, curling up and the sun was shining through it and making it glow like gold and Clark wanted more than anything to feel his mouth on him again—he wondered would Bo like it if he sucked him. Clark grunted, and shook, and Bo moaned.oh yes!
“Here, put your hand here--”
Clark did what he said because after all Bo was the expert here. Bo pulled his hand over his hip, slid it lower and back until he was cradling his ass, and then pushed back until Clark’s fingers slipped into the warm cleft and stroked over the pucker there. Oh my god…oh my—okay, it wasn’t like he hadn’t done it to himself once or twice. Possibly more times…but this, this was *worlds* better. He pushed slowly against that pucker until it opened to him and his finger slid in, nice and slow.
Bo gasped and his dick quivered and slid in their joined hands and spit a little jet of pre-come, “God, that’s good that’s it, deeper, like that, more, Clark I’m going to come, I’m--”
Clark jerked forward and just like in his dream he was coming with out stop, without warning, his orgasm just leaped out of no-where,kicked him in the gut and danced off with his brain and only left him one word—coming! Coming--”
“Ah--fuck *me*!”
“What—now?” Clark groaned and that was too bad, because he was kind of busy coming and yelling and almost passing out—
The Fourth Week
Clark watched Bo’s truck disappear in the distance and smiled sadly. It had been a most enlightening week, but it was over now. He was kind of sad about that---he’d miss Bo, he’d miss the sex, too—
A car pulled up to the shoulder of the road.
“Clark! There you are, I haven’t seen much of you the last couple of weeks—feel up to a cup of coffee?” Lex’s smile revealed pearly teeth, and his eyes sparkled and he looked like an ice cream cone, only not really, Clark just wanted to lick him like one. He got in the car. Fast.
Lex turned to him and his wide smile turned into a slow, familiar smile, only now, it pulled an invisible string in his gut that was connected to his brain--the part that whispered, get your pants off—
“I suppose you’re going to miss your cousin, hmm?”
Clark leaned back against the seat and gave Lex his smile right back. “A little. Say, you feel like driving out to the lake?” and listened to Lex’s heart beat spike—he’d know it anywhere now; he’d been listening to it all month.
Clark smirked. “So, Lex what have you been doing the last couple of weeks?”
Lex answered blandly but his ears were bright red and his heart was hammering. “Bird watching.” He said with the straightest face possible.
9-14-2005
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
9/15/05 12:02 pm (UTC)I can definitely see Bo being that...ah...outgoing shall we say?...now Luke on the other hand...not so much :).
Lindsay
(no subject)
9/15/05 02:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
9/15/05 12:51 pm (UTC)Best line EVER!
Lex is SO CAUGHT. Bwa!
(no subject)
9/15/05 02:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
9/15/05 02:31 pm (UTC)I laughed, too!
big old alien cuckoo Poor Clark! *pets*
LOL about the flesh eating zombie guy wet dream!
Please don’t let me break him please don’t let me break him Poor Clark again! LOL!
And I loved the ending! Yay!
(no subject)
9/15/05 02:42 pm (UTC)(no subject)
9/15/05 04:09 pm (UTC)(no subject)
9/15/05 07:47 pm (UTC)Thanks!
But where's the General Lee?
Oh, sorry, I don't do cars! *G*
(no subject)
9/15/05 10:16 pm (UTC)(no subject)
9/15/05 05:18 pm (UTC)(no subject)
9/15/05 07:48 pm (UTC)(no subject)
9/15/05 05:33 pm (UTC)*ahem*
*snogs you madly*
(no subject)
9/15/05 07:48 pm (UTC)(no subject)
9/15/05 05:34 pm (UTC)This is wrong. Really wrong. I know it, you know it and the American people know it. You are going to Dukes of Hazzrd hell where everyone has a mullet and everyone is your first cousin.
That said: OMG! This is awesome!!!!
Especially the part about Clark listening to Lex's heart beat, I've always found that to be the hottest and sweetest thing.
(no subject)
9/15/05 07:49 pm (UTC)*hangs head*
*giggles really hard*
(no subject)
9/15/05 06:05 pm (UTC)LOOOVED it!!
:D
(no subject)
9/15/05 07:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
9/15/05 06:20 pm (UTC)That was hot and disturbing with the Bo Duke imagery, right up to that zinger closing line. Wow. You rock.
(no subject)
9/15/05 07:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
9/15/05 07:26 pm (UTC)Clark's steam of consciousness is hysterical: "Please don’t let me break him please don’t let me break him." *hee hee*
I love Lex watching--and Clark knowing that Lex was watching. Now Lex will show him how cousin-love is nothing next to slick, hairless love...
*happy, pervy sigh* Thanks!
(no subject)
9/15/05 07:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
9/15/05 10:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
9/15/05 07:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
9/15/05 07:53 pm (UTC)(no subject)
9/15/05 10:51 pm (UTC)Perhaps we should concentrate on congratulating ourselves that it wasn't pervi-er. For example, that Clark didn't think 'gee, he even looks like Dad when he's naked' or something...
See, the wrongness factor could be SO much higher. ;)
(no subject)
9/16/05 02:34 am (UTC)*scrubs brain viciously*
(no subject)
9/15/05 10:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
9/16/05 02:35 am (UTC)(no subject)
9/15/05 11:16 pm (UTC)(no subject)
9/16/05 02:35 am (UTC)(no subject)
9/16/05 02:42 am (UTC)You have seen the big version, right? ;-)
(no subject)
9/20/05 01:00 am (UTC)(no subject)
9/20/05 02:08 am (UTC)Really? *bats big old innocent eyes* Whatever for?
*grin*