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Entry tags:
Sv ficpost: coming soon--until I can actually come up with a title
Title: coming soon--the title i mean
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Lex/Clark/ Whit
Rating: PG-13-ish for naughty thoughts
Summary: It's PWP, really.
The previous part is here--absolutely stunned and grateful to be working again...and is sorry he's wearing your undies as a hat....
II
Whit changed his jeans three times. The first pair had rivets—too dangerous, what if he accidentally scratched Luthor's paint? The second pair were too loose. He didn’t know why he thought that, he just did. Too…baggy, loose…something. The third pair he thought were all right. He should have put them on first. He'd got them in the city with Lana, and since she'd picked them out, they must look good on him, and they were pretty close to designer stuff so Luth—Lex—might not think he was too much of a loser. He was a little worried about the holes here and there that Lana'd said was a good thing, what if people weren't doing that any more and Lex thought he was stupid? Why the hell was he worrying about it—it was just Lex. More to the point, he was grabbing a ride with a *guy*. Who could give a fuck what he looked like. He pushed the pants a little lower on his hips. He sniffed his pits, shrugged and put another coat of deodorant on, grabbed a shirt off the pile on his desk chair and smelled it—good enough. Besides, he already had nice pants on. He slipped the mostly clean band tee on and left for Lex's and the ride of his life. This was going to be great—he couldn't wait. He refused to even think that maybe…maybe Lex would let him…nah. Never happen.
III
Clark admitted to himself he was moping around like a twelve year old, getting on his folks' nerves, getting on his own nerves. He finally escaped to the loft, his parents' grateful sighs ushering him out the door.
He knew he was being stupid. It wasn’t like he had some exclusive lock on Lex's friendship—in fact, it was great that Lex was getting friendly with folks in town—it was good for the business, good for Lex. It was just…what was sticking in his craw, as Dad would say, was the fact that Lex asked *Whit* to drive with him. He didn't even like Whit, and Clark was pretty sure it wasn't just on his account. Okay, maybe Lex's plan was for Clark to call Lana while Whit was dashing all over the country side in Lex's car. Which was not a bad idea. It would give him a chance to talk to her and he guessed it was Lex's idea of strategy. He thought about her today, in her t-shirt tied up under her boobs, and her short, short, butt hugging shorts. When she bent over, they'd pulled tight around her like Whit's hands and he bet they molded right to her crotch, those wet tight shorts. bet she had no undies on…Clark groaned just a bit…so hot…not like Whit's shorts, all loose…he didn’t think Whit was wearing underwear either--he was sure he'd seen—but just because it was *so* obvious—he'd seen his stuff moving around in the loose hold of those shorts, bumping against the material as he dashed back and forth getting rags and stuff, being the big boss.
Clark thought about how Whit had taken over washing Lex's Porsche like it was his. Pressing up against the sun warm metal, he knew how that felt, warm smooth metal, rubbing his dick against it, rubbing while he was talking to Lex. Lex looking at him, through narrowed eyes, his lips pursed a little like he did sometimes and staring right into the middle of his brain. The Lex in his head knew what Clark was doing, rubbing off on his car, wanting it to be Lex's ass…Clark realized his eyes were nearly closed and his hand had somehow found its way into his own shorts…he shuddered as his hand slid down his cock until it bumped against the crown…whoop. His eyes flew open and he yanked his hand out of his pants. Sure, jerk off in the loft, cock out on the couch. Fun times explaining to Dad or Mom if they were to come up the stairs. He slid his hand out of his waist band and sat up.
Hey, wait a minute…is that the truck?
He hung his head out of the loft doors and Mom and Dad waved up at him with big smiles.
"Clark, your mom and I are going downtown," Dad called up, and Mom piped up too. "Date night," and they both laughed, and twinkled at each other. It was cute…and kind of scary because there was an awful lot of giggling going on. Clark made a face and pulled his head back. Okay, this was definitely a 'sleep out in the loft with the TV on loud' night. But, the silver lining was they'd be gone for a good while, so…he waited until he couldn't hear the truck anymore and settled back on the couch. Now that he was alone, he could turn his mind to his newest and favorite fantasy, even better than the one where Lana fell in the horse trough and he had to help her out and dry her off. No, this one, this one made him come like stars…
He shoved his shorts under his ass and his cock was jerking, swelling to fit the tunnel of his fist. He closed his eyes and sighed, snuggled his ass into the lumpy couch pillows and licked his lips. "Go ahead, Lex," he muttered, "You know you've been drooling for this..."
DreamLex was on his knees in front of him, running his hands over and over Clark's thighs. "Oh, yes," DreamLex said, "I've been dying to get your cock in my mouth…" mmm, wait, this was better… "I've been dying for you to rub your cock all over my face, come on me, paint me with your manjuice…oh, oh yeah, that was *much* better…
TBC
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Lex/Clark/ Whit
Rating: PG-13-ish for naughty thoughts
Summary: It's PWP, really.
The previous part is here--absolutely stunned and grateful to be working again...and is sorry he's wearing your undies as a hat....
II
Whit changed his jeans three times. The first pair had rivets—too dangerous, what if he accidentally scratched Luthor's paint? The second pair were too loose. He didn’t know why he thought that, he just did. Too…baggy, loose…something. The third pair he thought were all right. He should have put them on first. He'd got them in the city with Lana, and since she'd picked them out, they must look good on him, and they were pretty close to designer stuff so Luth—Lex—might not think he was too much of a loser. He was a little worried about the holes here and there that Lana'd said was a good thing, what if people weren't doing that any more and Lex thought he was stupid? Why the hell was he worrying about it—it was just Lex. More to the point, he was grabbing a ride with a *guy*. Who could give a fuck what he looked like. He pushed the pants a little lower on his hips. He sniffed his pits, shrugged and put another coat of deodorant on, grabbed a shirt off the pile on his desk chair and smelled it—good enough. Besides, he already had nice pants on. He slipped the mostly clean band tee on and left for Lex's and the ride of his life. This was going to be great—he couldn't wait. He refused to even think that maybe…maybe Lex would let him…nah. Never happen.
III
Clark admitted to himself he was moping around like a twelve year old, getting on his folks' nerves, getting on his own nerves. He finally escaped to the loft, his parents' grateful sighs ushering him out the door.
He knew he was being stupid. It wasn’t like he had some exclusive lock on Lex's friendship—in fact, it was great that Lex was getting friendly with folks in town—it was good for the business, good for Lex. It was just…what was sticking in his craw, as Dad would say, was the fact that Lex asked *Whit* to drive with him. He didn't even like Whit, and Clark was pretty sure it wasn't just on his account. Okay, maybe Lex's plan was for Clark to call Lana while Whit was dashing all over the country side in Lex's car. Which was not a bad idea. It would give him a chance to talk to her and he guessed it was Lex's idea of strategy. He thought about her today, in her t-shirt tied up under her boobs, and her short, short, butt hugging shorts. When she bent over, they'd pulled tight around her like Whit's hands and he bet they molded right to her crotch, those wet tight shorts. bet she had no undies on…Clark groaned just a bit…so hot…not like Whit's shorts, all loose…he didn’t think Whit was wearing underwear either--he was sure he'd seen—but just because it was *so* obvious—he'd seen his stuff moving around in the loose hold of those shorts, bumping against the material as he dashed back and forth getting rags and stuff, being the big boss.
Clark thought about how Whit had taken over washing Lex's Porsche like it was his. Pressing up against the sun warm metal, he knew how that felt, warm smooth metal, rubbing his dick against it, rubbing while he was talking to Lex. Lex looking at him, through narrowed eyes, his lips pursed a little like he did sometimes and staring right into the middle of his brain. The Lex in his head knew what Clark was doing, rubbing off on his car, wanting it to be Lex's ass…Clark realized his eyes were nearly closed and his hand had somehow found its way into his own shorts…he shuddered as his hand slid down his cock until it bumped against the crown…whoop. His eyes flew open and he yanked his hand out of his pants. Sure, jerk off in the loft, cock out on the couch. Fun times explaining to Dad or Mom if they were to come up the stairs. He slid his hand out of his waist band and sat up.
Hey, wait a minute…is that the truck?
He hung his head out of the loft doors and Mom and Dad waved up at him with big smiles.
"Clark, your mom and I are going downtown," Dad called up, and Mom piped up too. "Date night," and they both laughed, and twinkled at each other. It was cute…and kind of scary because there was an awful lot of giggling going on. Clark made a face and pulled his head back. Okay, this was definitely a 'sleep out in the loft with the TV on loud' night. But, the silver lining was they'd be gone for a good while, so…he waited until he couldn't hear the truck anymore and settled back on the couch. Now that he was alone, he could turn his mind to his newest and favorite fantasy, even better than the one where Lana fell in the horse trough and he had to help her out and dry her off. No, this one, this one made him come like stars…
He shoved his shorts under his ass and his cock was jerking, swelling to fit the tunnel of his fist. He closed his eyes and sighed, snuggled his ass into the lumpy couch pillows and licked his lips. "Go ahead, Lex," he muttered, "You know you've been drooling for this..."
DreamLex was on his knees in front of him, running his hands over and over Clark's thighs. "Oh, yes," DreamLex said, "I've been dying to get your cock in my mouth…" mmm, wait, this was better… "I've been dying for you to rub your cock all over my face, come on me, paint me with your manjuice…oh, oh yeah, that was *much* better…
TBC
no subject
Awww! Poor jealous Clark. lol
"Oh, yes," DreamLex said, "I've been dying to get your cock in my mouth…" mmm, wait, this was better… "I've been dying for you to rub your cock all over my face, come on me, paint me with your manjuice…oh, oh yeah, that was *much* better…
Me thinks Clark may be reading one too many bad romance novels. lol But hey... it's his fantasy, so we'll let him go with it. And hopefully get something better soon. :D
*huggles*
no subject
It makes me giggle endlessly to imagine Clark making up 'throbbing rod of manhood' fantasies...you know he steals his mom's soft porn romances....