BEACH BUNNIES |
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"Excuse me, but is this lounger taken?" Clark opened his eyes at the sound of that breathy, feminine voice and eased himself up onto his elbows from where he was laying on his own lounger to get a better look at its owner. He lifted his sunglasses politely onto a new perch against his hair and, purely for effect since he had perfect vision even in direct sunlight, shaded a hand across his eyes as he leant back to view her. Looming above him was a somewhat statuesque blonde Amazon, very much in the Miss California Beach Babe mold. All tanned legs and arms and......yes, well......he dragged his eyes away from her obvious points of interest,which were barely a mystery at all as they threatened to spill out over the top of the scraps of cotton 'confining' them. Clark was sure that what she was wearing had undoubtedly been described as a bikini at the point of sale, but it was barely adequate to the dictionary definition. Miss Beach Babe '98 was watching him enquiringly with a dazzling smile that must have given her health insurance advisor heart failure and her orthodontist a down payment on his new Ferrari. She was obviously used to encountering a dazed pause and a thorough inspection of her assets when she approached the male of the species and was patiently waiting him out with an expression on her prettily sculptured face that hovered between a slightly bored 'seen it all before and isn't it terribly degrading, girls?' and a suppressed, lascivious excitement at being judged and inevitably found desirable. Clark suppressed a wry smile and followed his thoughts with action. It just wasn't the action that the blonde had been expecting. He tilted his head to one side, easing his gaze around her tightly narrow waist to scan the crowded area around the pool. While he kept up a search for his absent wife, he studiously ignored the way in which the expensive filigree gold chain threaded around Miss Beach Babe's hips glinted into the corner of his eye as she discretely sucked in already excruciatingly tight stomach muscles. There was no sign of Lois charging to the rescue. In fact, she was engaged in animated conversation with a burly lifeguard as she sat on the tiled edge of the pool. Her legs swung idly as her feet kicked little splashes of water into the air. The lifeguard followed her movements with a sick and hungry puppy dog expression in his eyes. Clark had the distinct impression that if someone was to suddenly flounder in the pool, scream 'Shark attack!' or something, they'd be getting little help from that particular quarter any time soon. He sighed and came back to the blonde, who had taken advantage of his momentary distraction to shift a miniscule inch closer in the interim. Clark found himself having to ease himself over on the lounger to avoid burying his nose in her navel. "Lounger?" Clark asked politely, figuring he'd best get it over with. She widened that mega-watt smile and pointed a pink lacquered finger to one side of him. Clark glanced at the empty lounger, on which lay conspicuous signs of habitation. Female habitation at that. A crumpled robe, a pair of newly acquired Raybans, a purse and a bottle of sunblock, amongst others. He looked back up and smiled. "Actually, I'm afraid it is. I think my wife will probably be back to claim it any minute." And me, the obvious addition filled the air between them, unspoken. The blonde's eyes narrowed fractionally, her smile becoming fixed and then recovering as she sighed and quite deliberately settled herself on the edge of Clark's lounger. Clark flushed slightly as the bare, rounded cheek of her bottom in its crimson thong nudged up against his equally bare thigh. He eased himself over another fraction of an inch, looking decidedly uncomfortable now. "Oh, well that's okay," Miss Beach Babe said chirpily. "Actually, I was thinking about heading into town anyway. I was wondering if you might help me find the local market? I've heard its very good and you can get some real bargains. I know its in the Old Quarter......you see, right here?" She leant forward in a calculated move that pushed her considerable assets higher against his chest and tugged a small, battered local guide from where she'd had it tucked into the string of the thong. She unfolded it against his chest as he watched her, bemused, and tapped one finger in emphasis against its lower section. "But I just don't know how to get from here......" the finger slid a seductive path across the page, apparently oblivious to the twitch of firm muscle, beneath the crackling pages of the guide, which followed its route, "......to *here*." She giggled, glancing up into his flushed face. "I'm just so ditzy when it comes to reading maps. I swear I'd lose my *head* if it wasn't *screwed* on tight!" Clark looked up from where he'd almost been considering playing dumb and pointing out the directions she so obviously didn't want at the less than subtle emphasis in her words and sighed inwardly as he caught the sultry gleam in her eyes. He smiled. It was not a smile that anyone who knew him well would have considered especially friendly, but the blonde seemed oblivious to its fixed hint of polite boredom. Clark took firm hold of the fingers resting lightly against the map and removed them. Then he carefully folded up the map and placed it into her hand before pointing out along the concourse. Lord knew, it went against his Kansas upbringing to be impolite, but sometimes there was just no getting around it. Besides, he figured he was doing Miss Beach Babe a real favor. If Lois caught her hitting on him, she was going to be needing another visit to that expensive orthodontist real soon. Which was no way to end a vacation. "I'm kinda lost without my wife in that respect myself," he told her smoothly. "I think reception's over there though. I'm sure one of the local guides can help you out." He lay back against the lounger, ignoring the hint of disbelief at his rejection and then plain old cat-spitting fury that flickered in her eyes. He pushed the Raybans back onto his nose, emphasizing his withdrawal and casually closed his eyes. After a moment of stunned silence that was almost palatable, he felt the lounger shift as the blonde rose to her feet with an unladylike snort of miffed breath. Clark surreptitiously turned his head to watch her stalk away and let loose a relieved sigh - which stuck abruptly in his throat as he caught sight of Lois making her way around the pool's edge and approaching Miss Beach Babe on an intercept course with a look of iced thunder in her eyes. Oh-oh. His back muscles tightened as he readied himself to come to the blonde's rescue, but to his relief his wife merely sauntered past as they intersected, barely sparing her would-be rival a glance. There might have been the slightest hitch in her stride as they crossed paths and a single, sly darted glance sideways at the other woman's jiggling curves, which may or may not have precipitated a slight twitch upwards of Lois' meticulously arched brow. But the moment was gone so fast it was difficult to tell that there'd been any reaction at all, even to an observer watching as closely for trouble as Clark was. What *was* easy to notice was that his wife's hips took on a decidedly more seductive swing as she approached him and that Miss Beach Babe's beautifully chiseled shoulders grew taut and her retreating stride quickened markedly in Lois' wake. Just a little. How did Lois do that, he wondered, watching the blonde scuttle off with a distinct air of having had her tail set firmly between her legs. He shook off the small puzzlement in another moment, figuring it was some kind of mysterious female communications network. One of those internal semaphore signals he was never going to understand, even if someone thought to explain it to him. Whatever it was, he thought with a flicker of smug, spousal pride, his wife was getting pretty good at it. Lois hit the side of his lounger a moment later, dropping firmly into the spot Miss Beach Babe had vacated. The tight set of her shoulders vividly testified to her displeasure as she glared around the pool concourse as though inviting any other challengers to make their intentions known and giving the impression of mentally projecting a three mile exclusion zone around their immediate location, while she hung out warning flags in six different international languages. Clark rolled onto his side to face her, enjoying the sensation of contact, skin against skin, that the motion brought with it as his stomach muscles fitted themselves to the taut curves of her buttocks. Pleasure that the similar, fleeting contact with the blonde had never provoked in him. But she knew that. He also knew it wasn't him she was mad at. Still, he wasn't happy that she was mad at all. This was a vacation after all. She was supposed to be relaxing. He ran the flat of his palm up along the curve of her spine and cupped his hand against Lois' shoulder, kneading lightly and soothingly at the stiffness beneath his fingers, and then slid it provocatively down along the length of her arm. Her skin held the faint tang of chemicals and felt slightly damp still to his touch after her swim. Lois sniffed contemptuously, still lost in her own private telepathic war with the surrounding female population, and then reached for the small bottle laying on the lounger opposite. "Sweetheart, would you put some more lotion on for me? I think that last dip just about rinsed off the last of it," she said, perhaps just a touch over loudly and somewhat commandingly, and Clark hid a smile as he took the bottle from her. He raised himself to sit and poured some of the warm, coconut scented oil onto one palm. Washing it into his hands, he set them against her still rigid shoulders. He pushed his thumbs firmly into the bunched muscles at the nape of her neck, easing the tension from them in slow, seductive circles, and then drew his fingers in a firm path up either side of her spine till he reached her hairline before reversing course to his starting point. Repeating the motion a few times, he felt Lois stretch her neck and spine under the pressure of his fingers, beginning to relax slightly. He was entirely oblivious to a collective chorus of soft, envious sighs from around the pool as more than one pair of eyes jealously watched his large, masculine hands move expertly against his wife's skin. He would have been astounded to learn that Miss Beach Babe '98 hadn't been the only one studying the handsome, bronzed and muscular hunk as he'd reclined on the lounger, drowsing in the warm heat. More than a few of the women scattered around the pool had considered him easily the most interesting thing on two legs to have appeared on the scene all afternoon and he'd unknowingly been the focus of hot and lusting eyes from a fair chunk of the current female population. Not to mention equally salacious thoughts. And there wasn't one of them who wouldn't have gleefully driven a dagger into Lois Lane's heart at that particular moment. Clark though had his eyes and thoughts fixed firmly on just one woman. He shifted his massaging fingers, spreading them across her collarbones as he rubbed more of the oil into her glistening skin. He pushed his hands back and up along the sides of her neck to press against the line of her jaw, enclosing her throat in his slippery grip before sliding slickly down again to rest in the hollow of her shoulders. He paused and then reversed his grip. His thumbs pushed deeply into the soft skin at the dip of her throat and then smoothed their way up along its length, tracing the bone of her jaw and coming briefly into contact at the point of her chin before retreating. At the same time, his palms pressed tight against her throat and his long fingers kneaded at the back of her neck. Lois closed her eyes, hardly hearing her soft moan of appreciation as she lost herself in his touch. Clark felt the tension begin to leech out of her and left off his massage to smooth an oiled path down along her arms until he found her hands. Entwining his fingers in hers, he pulled their grip up to lay against her ribs, just beneath the slow pound of her heart and dipped his head to place a soft kiss against the pulse at the side of her throat. He nuzzled a path up towards her right ear and closed his teeth gently on its lobe. He tugged firmly. Warm breath tantalized her skin. "You'd hang out a 'Hands Off. He's Mine.' sign if you could, wouldn't you?" he murmured, sounding amused. "Damn right." Lois tipped her head back onto his shoulder as she relaxed
"How about a collar and leash?" he suggested, exploring her throat again
"Clark..." she said, not that willing just yet to fall in with his attempts to tease her out of her fit of pique. "Come on, honey. Just ignore them. I do." "Ignore them? How can I ignore them? Clark, that's the third one to hit on you this afternoon." She tightened fractionally beneath his hands again as she scowled out onto the concourse. "And the rest of them are either thinking about it or drooling like dogs in the heat," she added disgustedly. "Lo-is. One of those was ninety years old if she was a day. And all she wanted was to know what time the restaurant opened." "Hah! You think you don't get hormone rushes when you get to ninety,
"Well, I certainly hope some of us do," Clark agreed. "But I'd guess they're more like to occur at a slightly younger age. How old *was* your lifeguard friend anyway?" he added casually, as he reached up to unpin her hair and draw his fingers through the resultant tumbled mass of darkly gleaming waves that spilled around his hands and her shoulders, teasing the water-dampened curls into some semblance of order. "Huh?" "Come on, Lois. Mr. Muscles. I was watching him." "What about him?" she said, somewhat defensively. "He was hitting on you." "Was not," she said, but she sounded a touch guilty. Clark smiled and settled his chin familiarly into the dip of her shoulder, where it fitted comfortably enough to have had him wondering in the past if it had been tailor made for the purpose. "Was too. Don't pretend you didn't notice. I mean," he added as she shifted uncomfortably, "look at it from my point of view. Here I am, valiantly defending my honor against boarders and righteously saving my virtue for my......" he traced a path of small caresses along the side of her throat and then breathed huskily in her ear, "incredibly sexy and adorable wife......" She smiled slightly, despite herself. "While *you* have had the eyes of every guy within a mile radius on you since you stepped into that pool wearing this." 'This' being the lime green micro bikini that hugged her breasts and hips like a second skin. He tugged at its spaghetti strap briefly in emphasis. "That's not true," Lois said, but she suddenly looked very pleased with herself. "I've been the envy of every single one of them," Clark concluded with a dramatic, soulful sigh as he returned his chin to its perch. Lois sniffed. But it was pretty half-hearted. Clark smiled as he set his lips to the satin skin of her shoulder. Her soft scent had changed marginally. He chuckled. Lois came out of her reverie with a frown. "What's so funny?" "You. The thought of all those men watching you is turning you on." "It is not!" "Is too." "Is *not*!" She insisted indignantly and tried to turn her head to glare at him. His arms tightened, holding her steady against the solid wall of his chest. Balked, Lois decided to content herself with having had the last word. She huffed back hard against his chest. She probably would have folded her arms, if his hadn't been warmly pressing them to the smooth plane of her stomach. Clark, having made his point, only smiled lazily. He eased their combined grip slightly upward, letting his knuckles briefly graze the underside of her breast and felt her stomach muscles tighten against his arms, heard her small, indrawn breath quiver in her throat. His smile turned to another soft chuckle. "Aren't you supposed to be doing something with that oil?" Lois demanded
"I can think of lots of things to do with this oil," he answered, planting a rough kiss at the base of her right ear and moving his head to set another one beneath the left. "Clark......!" He grinned at the exasperation in her voice and faked a put upon sigh. "Okay," he conceded. He eased his fingers clear of hers and straightened behind her. Loading up with more of the thick, creamy lotion, he set the bottle aside and took hold of her shoulders, flexing his fingers strongly against her skin. After a moment, Lois reached for the bottle of lotion and emptied a little into her hands. She began to apply it to her upper chest area with soft, luxurious strokes of her fingertips. The hands at her shoulders stopped their ministrations. Lois sighed and tipped her head back onto the rock-hard shoulder behind her, a move which arched her back and thrust the soft golden globes of her breasts pertly upwards, giving her husband a long and lengthy view down the sun-dappled slope of her skin to where her fingers were dipping lower to apply lotion to the swell of flesh just above the line of lime-green cotton. "Hey," Clark protested, somewhat hoarsely, as he reached for the offending hand and tugged it clear. "Stop spoiling the perks of this job." She grinned as he took over the task and settled back with a small sigh of contentment. She closed her eyes, savoring the light strokes of his fingers against her skin as he massaged the oil into the tops of her breasts, applying himself to the chore diligently. The heat of the sun overhead and the soothing, caressing circles being traced on her skin let her drift. Her thoughts began to wistfully consider how those stroking fingers would feel against her skin if they moved just a *little* lower when she came to with a start, confused as she felt Clark's hands slide between the cotton lining of her top and her skin to lightly cradle her breasts. He squeezed gently, molding the smooth flesh in his hands. His breath flooded warmth against her neck as he kissed softly at the hook of her jaw and dipped his head lower to lap at the sensitive skin in the hollow of her shoulder. Her muzziness swiftly leaving her, Lois squirmed slightly and raised her head to scan the area around them. She must have been asleep at least a time because the sun had shifted subtly overhead and the poolside was deserted. A cooling breeze had begun to flutter in the gaily striped parasols. "Clark......" "Hmmmmm?" "Honey......" "It's okay," he murmured into her ear, accurately sensing the cause of her concern. "We're on our own. They called dinner ten minutes ago. Everyone else went inside." His hands continued to knead at the yielding mounds of flesh fitted into his palms and his thumbs skimmed across her nipples, bringing them into sudden, taut life. Lois sighed quietly and let herself relax against him again. "And I guess *you* want to get inside too," she murmured wickedly. "Oh yeah," her husband agreed, tightening his grip and then removing his hands. He ignored her soft protest as he let them smooth a path across her shoulders, drawing the thin straps of the bikini with them until they dangled loose against her upper arms. He used the grip on her arms to turn her around to face him. He was straddling the lounger now. He positioned her between his legs, his knees pressing firmly against her thighs as she settled back on her heels. Lois reached out to ease the sunglasses from his face, discarding them on the small table between the loungers and then directed a sultry smile up into the softly glowing mocha eyes gazing down at her. She watched interestedly as he bent his head to press light lips to the rounded upper curve of one breast. He let them trail downwards with tantalizing slowness, bathing her oiled skin with lapping, feathered caresses until he reached cotton. He nudged the edge of her top downwards with his chin and followed it with his mouth. Lois eyes dilated sharply, her breath rising in her throat as watching him leasure both himself and her in his lazy exploration of the soft, malleable globes of flesh began to settle a heavy, liquid warmth deep in her belly. "You know......" she observed, slightly huskily, "I've noticed......" she paused, breath catching hard as his teeth closed over one taut nipple and squeezed delicately and her words deserting her. She moaned quietly, closing her eyes as her hands lifted to his shoulders and began to play across the bunching and flexing muscles under their sheath of smooth, heated skin. Clark's soft, enticing tugging at the center of her breast paused finally and he released her, letting the tip of his tongue dart out to play briefly against her reddened flesh before he murmured absently, "You noticed......?" "Mmmmmmm. What?" Lois roused herself with a frown, opening her eyes to look down at him, and lifted one hand from his shoulder to place it on the back of his head, firmly pressing it back down against the breast he'd just abandoned. "You noticed," he prompted again as he obeyed that silent command and went back to teasing at her nipple with short, vigorous little nips of his teeth. "Huh......oh......yes, yes, I noticed.......aaaah......." She shuddered,
her eyes opening momentarily wide and then dropped her head, losing her
train of thought again as she followed his movements against her breast
with fascination and some awe. What had she been saying? Oh yes, "Yes,
I noticed that there seem to be.......oh, honey......there, please......there......certain.....certain
areas you cover more than She felt him smile against her throbbing flesh, even as she saw the tips of his mouth crinkle upwards around the rose-tinged nub he was nuzzling. "Well, a man likes to be thorough." The tip of his tongue proved his point by dipping out suddenly to flick across the hard, aching tip of her breast and Lois jerked slightly, closing her eyes again as her head fell back, her lips parting and her breath reduced to quick, shallow gasps. Clark rose up onto his knees to place a kiss in the center of her throat and then fastened his mouth on hers in a vigorous melding of their lips. His tongue pushed enthusiastically into the hot, moist cavity of her mouth, dipping into all the hollows and ridges that he already knew so well. He felt her sigh fill his own mouth warmly as her tongue tangled with his and conducted its own, eager exploration. His hands took pleasure in her breasts, playing with them avidly, his fingers enclosing her nipples, rolling and pinching and then soothing them with soft fluttering touches as he responded to her quick, muted cries of pleasure and encouragement. Then he tore his mouth from hers, his head lifting like a hound scenting
blood on the breeze. A distracted and all too familiar look stilled his
handsome features. Lois followed his movement in a blind questing to "Oh no, honey we're on vacation -- " she couldn't prevent the protest. He glanced at her and she saw the slight shake of his head just before he moved. A blur of motion later and she was resting against his chest, stretched out beside him as he reclined on his back on the lounger, one arm thrown lightly, but perfectly decorously across her waist. "What -- ?" She trailed off as a flicker of motion caught against the corner of her eye. She lifted her head slightly, which gave her an ideal view over the slightly winded rise and fall of her husband's muscled chest, toward the palm-shrouded entrance of the hotel complex. An elderly couple emerged, arm and arm and engaged in animated conversation. Lois couldn't resist a downward glance at herself and was relieved to note that everything was in place and as it should be. There were only a few yards separating them from the couple now as they began to walk towards them. Her husband's arm tightened slightly across her as though chiding her for thinking he wouldn't have attended to details. Lois settled folded arms against his chest and rested her chin on their support as the couple turned onto the winding path that would take them down into the nearby village. The elderly gent put a hand against his wife's elbow, steering her to the path edge and away from its slightly uneven center. Lois smiled. Her own, adoring other half turned her gently into the encircling support of his arm and engaged her lips with his own in a caress that was thorough, but less impassioned and more sedate than the one they had been sharing a moment earlier. "Sorry," he murmured when he was through, shifting slightly to brush contrite lips against her cheek. "Huh?" "I got......distracted. I almost missed them." "Oh." Lois looked up at him from her position laid back against his arm and smiled lazily. She reached up a hand and trailed one finger across his cheek, then traced the line of one brow thoughtfully. Like this, held securely in his arms, yet separate from him, her body
a supple, open landscape, inviting exploration, she was suddenly acutely
aware, as though every nerve in her had risen to tingling life, of how
much of them was bare skin and how little scantily clothed. It was an
He shifted, imperceptibly, a move that brought them into contact in a hundred different places and Lois, aware of every one, stifled a low moan as she felt that connection sear her. At that moment she wouldn't have cared less if the entire MetNet basketball team had come spilling out of the hotel, knowing she would surrender to him in a heartbeat, no matter where or how he chose to take her. A slow smile began to form on her husband's face as though he was well aware of her thoughts. It dizzied her, seeing that stark, almost feral reflection of her own lust and desire transfigured in his eyes. He reached with his free hand to draw hers from his cheek and turned the palm upward to place a small kiss in its center. "Did I mention it didn't surprise me," he said softly as he looked away
to gaze down at her, drinking in her curves, displayed so provocatively
as she lay supine against his embracing arm. His hand was resting on one
lime-green hip. He let his fingers play idly against the cotton and let
one follow the line where briefs and smooth flesh met before he pushed
it down and under to caress her hip bone and the beginnings of a Lois squirmed slightly, tugging her fingers gently from his grip and
laying them on his chest, drawing the warmth from his skin into her fingers
as she played them in light circles across his muscles. "That He smiled, didn't stop, though he did shift direction slightly, which made her squirm more. And not because it tickled either, he thought with a grin. "What didn't surprise you?" Lois gasped out, desperately trying to keep her mind from the slow, meandering path his finger was taking as it slid seductively back and forth, up and down the crease of her thigh. Now and then it would brush lightly against the edge of the thick mat of curls just out of its reach and she would grow still, breath held, throat tight, until it continued its stroking route. "Hmmmm?" Clark had been watching the movements of his fingers beneath the cotton shrouding them. Now he looked up and Lois caught her breath again at the look of smoldering hunger filling his eyes. "That all those men were watching you," he told her. Lois barely heard the words. They were light, almost teasing, but they
didn't match the mood in his eyes. The fierce craving in those impaled
her, fixing her like a deer caught in headlights as she stared into the
Clark raised a hand to cup her cheek as he watched that heat flare suddenly
in her eyes. "You're easily the most beautiful woman on this island,"
he murmured, rubbing a slow, seductive thumb across her lips "Oh, I don't know," Lois laughed somewhat shakily, trying to rein herself back from the intensity of emotions sweeping over her, emotions suddenly so fierce that they were almost scaring her. She'd never felt so out of control, so eager to have him touch and caress her, to surrender to him completely and have him take pleasure in her. She swallowed roughly through the sudden constriction in her throat and the inexplicable rise of tears in her eyes. She blinked them back savagely. "There's that topless beach on the east side." Clark let a flicker of a smile lighten the fierce need clenched in his
face and glowing sharply in his eyes, seeming oblivious to her confusion
as he demurred. "Some women don't have to advertise," he said as his Lois felt herself drowning, dissolving into a backwash of sensation and
heat and desire as the muscles supporting her flexed strongly, Clark's
arm shifting to hitch her closer against his chest, wrapping itself Clark's lips were travelling again, following the drumming beat of her heart up along the tendons of her throat and thoughts of privacy began to brighten in her head. "C-Clark......" she gasped and he shifted, lips trailing heat across
her brow and cheek, against her temple as he rolled slightly to trap her
beneath the muscled length of his body. His hands left off their heated
The glow in his eyes seared her. "Not here," he said, the words emerging
from deep in his chest, thick with passion and barely more than a breathless
growl. "I want to make love to you properly. No An image of sweating, writhing bodies, entangled in heavy sheets and breathing harshly in the stuffy, claustrophobic tropical heat flashed through Lois' mind. She shook her head faintly against the hands holding her firm, but Clark seemed either disinterested in her response or to have forgotten the question because he was kissing her again, lips rubbing rough desire against her skin and his hands slipped down to her throat, slid to her shoulders, one arm easing its way quickly beneath her and down her spine until his large hand splayed itself against her bottom. Using it as leverage he pushed her upward, as he rolled slightly clear
and to one side, her body reflexively curving in a taut bow against his
supporting arm, as his free hand spread itself across her ribs and slid
Lois cried piteously into his mouth, her hips circling frantically against
his touch as he clenched his fingers gently around her and let his stiffened
fingers slide inexorably into the deep cleft between her "Lois......Lois......" his lips crushed the murmur of her name against her throat, over and over, as they devoured all of her that they could find. Lois had the dim impression of time moving, of air stirring in the canopies
and parasols around them, of voices, muted by distance and barely heard
and of the hot, pulsing movement on her husband's lips on And then Clark grunted sharply, lifted his head with a rough shake and dragged his hands clear of where they were pleasuring her to plant them on the lounger, either side of her shoulders. Supporting himself on his arms, he eased himself slightly clear of her, panting harshly, chest heaving as he stared down into her face. She remained for a moment, eyes closed, chin tilted upward, lips softly
parted, glistening slickly as they moved restlessly on his name in a whispering
caress. With a hand that shook slightly, Clark grazed his "Lois?" he said softly. "Mmmmmmmm?" "Hold on tight." The world moved in a blur of color and rushing air and Lois cried out as she found herself cradled in his arms. She was aware of space and silence and cooling air and lifted her head cautiously from where it had somehow instinctively found a refuge against one sun-warmed shoulder. They were standing on the sands of the hotel's little private beach. Clark grunted and strode up the slight gradient toward what she recognized as the naturally secluded little niche in the rock cliffs that they'd explored earlier on a lazy, pre-breakfast ramble along the shore. She had pointed it out to him with a mischievous grin as the perfect trysting spot, she recalled. It seemed he'd been taking notes. The spur of soft powdered sand formed a natural, irregular horseshoe, nestled deep into the rock wall looming over it. Enclosed on either side by high, rocky outcrops it was impossible to overlook and difficult to reach with the tide high as it was now - unless you had a super advantage. Clark rose slightly into the air to breach the water lapping around his ankles and landed softly in the sandy basin of the cove. "Better," he muttered, scanning the ground around them and then she was laying on her back on a blanket of gently warmed sand with her husband's muscular body fitting itself to her as he covered her gently. Lois wrapped her arms around his neck delightedly as she felt his eager weight trap her, pushing her down deep into the malleable surface. She drew his face down to where she could dart quick, passionate kisses across its handsome surface and he laughed suddenly, taking hold of her wrists and tugging them clear as he straddled her waist in one fluid motion, knees nudging up against the sides of her breasts. Still holding her wrists cuffed tight in his hands, he pushed them down onto the sand above her head and then grinned down into her flushed face. "Hey," he said. Panting, Lois stared up at him. "Hey," she answered faintly. She pulled experimentally against his hands. His grip tightened. "Clark - " "Shssh," he chided, shifting his grip in a blur so rapid that she had little chance to take advantage of it as he transferred her wrists to one large hand and drew the back of the other smoothly and enticingly down along her throat and chest to let it cup her breast. Lois tugged again and frowned as his fingers twisted into the front of the bikini top and snapped free the tiny row of buttons that held it closed. It was an unusual design and he smiled to himself as he negotiated all three buttons, wondering how long it had taken her to track it down. He remembered the occasion - not long after they were married - that he had mentioned curiously that she seemed to have switched to wearing bras with catches at the front. She had giggled delightfully and told him she was becoming pretty adept at choosing clothes - and most especially underwear - that could be dispensed with quickly and with the least possible fuss when required. If she made it easy for him, she'd teased, then they could save on their clothing bills - or on her clothing bill at least - and Clark had flushed, remembering how quickly his patience ran away from him in the midst of his passion for her and how many pairs of shredded panties and torn bras had gone into the trash after bouts of frenzied love making in the past. "What're are you doing?" Lois asked mildly, squirming slightly beneath him as he skimmed first one then the other of the cotton cups up and over the breast it covered, his hands taking time to enjoy the sensation of touching her skin before he simply sat back and let his gaze rest on her naked curves. "I told you," he said absently. "I want to make love to you properly." He bent his head, taking first one then the other of her nipples into his mouth and sucking gently on their full, turgid peaks. Lois forgot about trying to pull free of his grip as her back arched sharply, her voice echoing around the rock enclosure as she cried out. "Clark......! Oh, God, Clark......" His mouth devoured her quivering flesh as he suckled more fiercely, driven
by the trembling of her small, fragile body beneath his own and by her
soft whimpers of pleasure. He tugged at one rosy nipple and then Lois twisted frantically beneath him, her sobs for breath growing harsher, legs thrashing as she tore her mouth from his, panting savagely. "Clark, please.......please......I want to touch you. Let me touch you, Clark......*please*......oh, honey......please......" His grip shifted, hands slipping down across her wrists and the sensitive
skin of her inner arms, causing her to quiver and buck beneath him. He
continued, trailing them down her sides, following the sharp Her neck stretched taut, head thrown back as she closed her eyes, hearing
the hot, anguished moan tear itself from her throat. Released, she lowered
her arms around his neck. Her hands working fitfully against Her hands raked downward across his spine, skimmed across the hollow of his back, feeling the muscles bunch and flex strongly beneath her exploring fingers until she found her way to the line of his cotton speedos. She pushed the close-fitted swimwear down off of his taut buttocks and onto his thighs. Clark rolled from her and onto his side, panting harshly as he stripped
off the restricting briefs with a few swift movements. The thick, hard
pulsing length of his erection sprang free, drawing her eyes and then
he Lois settled automatically into a straddled position across his thighs
as she knelt over him and then let her upper body sway forward to rest
on his, her skin, hot and slick with sweat and the residue of the oil
Clark's hands slid along the arch of her back, seeking out its hollows
and curves, exploring her hips and the rounded mounds of her bottom, before
travelling up to her shoulders, encasing them in a softly clenching grip.
Their mouths clasped and unclasped as they traded quick, restless breaths
and then Lois pulled back, pushing herself upward with hands spread wide
and flat against the smoothly rolling muscles of his chest. She lifted
herself, the merest fraction of a swaying movement, that brought the soft,
cotton-shrouded core at the juncture of her thighs up in a whispered caress
along the pulsing, rigid length of his Clark groaned and slid his hands across hers, up onto her arms, shifting
his grip to wrap his fingers tight around them, holding her firm as she
pressed forward a second time. His hips rose imperiously, without Lois closed her eyes, moaning softly, and opened them as she felt her husband's hand lift from her arm and enclose her breast. He drew the pad of his thumb against her nipple and she smiled down at him, lowering herself briefly to meet his lips in a sensual kiss before she raised herself again. His hand turned itself onto its back and drifted lower, knuckles skimming across her ribs and over the soft swell of her belly, a flicker of a smile twitching at his lips as he felt her muscles contract sharply beneath his questing touch. He watched her face, noting the glazing in her eyes, the heat burning in them, the rose flush of her cheeks as he journeyed ever closer to where she wanted him to be. Where she needed him to be. Her tongue darted quickly across her lips as he reached the waistband of the bikini briefs and slipped beneath. She was hot and welcoming. She arched her back deeply, her thighs gripping
his in a tight pinch as he slid stiffened fingers down through the cushion
of damp hair, through the deep cleft of moist flesh and A sharp, mewling rose from his wife's throat as he explored her expertly and knowingly, his thrusting strokes changing direction and pace so rapidly that she was kept on the rising cusp of her desire, never allowed to struggle over its edge, her gasps for breath and frantic, pleading cries encouraging the slick movements deep within her. She shuddered and, sensing how close she was, he eased clear of her. Lois continued to move against his now absent fingers, barely aware that he was no longer with her as she lost herself in a haze of heat and sensation and the residue of his probing touch. Before she could become aware of his loss, he had wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her enough that he could strip off the cotton briefs. He tossed them aside and then rolled them both over to bury her beneath him. She was spreading herself wide, opening herself to him even as his fingers gripped her thighs and pushed them apart. He raised himself slightly, looming over her, blocking out the sudden halo of the sun that flared around his head and dazzled her and then he was sheathing himself deep inside her, filling her with a rushing warmth and slick heat. Her mouth tore wide on a soundless cry of pleasure as she felt him stretch her to take him fully into her moist depths. She wriggled, forcing herself against him, clutching him deeper within as she wrapped her long legs around his waist. Clark felt sudden, unexplored depths open up to him and he pushed deeper, barely hearing her sobs for breath and small, erotic cries, yet aware of them at some subliminal level and, driven by the instinctive, primal urge to pleasure her that they invoked, he began a hard, strong rhythm, thrusting and withdrawing, burying himself in her as conscious thought retreated into the red haze that clouded over them and drove out all but the rushing flare of fire that was suddenly consuming him. Lois cried out again, her hands moving restlessly against his shoulders as her hips bucked upwards to meet the vigorous, pounding strokes that slammed her back, over and over, into the soft sand beneath her. Yet it was never enough to soothe the tightening pull of need that was flaring like molten fire through her veins and tightening a coil of desperate wanting deep in the pit of her belly. She writhed against the muscular weight covering her, molding her to its will, its fiercely possessive motions demanding and receiving her submissive surrender to its primal forcing of her body into ecstasy. The sensuous, circling movements of her hips spurred Clark on, his thrusts
becoming rougher as he instinctively sensed her frustration and need,
her desire for something more than a gentle pleasuring of her When she became aware of the world again she opened her eyes to a surprising
landscape of shadows and dusk light. The sun was sinking rapidly now and
the air growing slightly chill on her heated skin. Her "It's getting cold," he said, rubbing the tip of his nose affectionately along her jawline and then planting a solemn kiss against her cheek. Lois smiled and twitched her hips against the satisfying fullness of him still sheathed within her. "It's just fine," she purred, her smug expression deepening as she felt an answering tug against her inner folds. He chuckled and then lifted his head to kiss her, his hands rising to frame her face before they stroked their way into the dark, tumbled mass of her hair. "We should go back. You'll get chilled." Lois slipped her arms around his neck, tightening her hold. "I'll be okay, for a while." He gave in and settled onto his back in the cooling sand, wrapping her in his arms and pulling her gently onto his chest. Lois settled herself in her favorite position, molding herself to his side and entwining her legs in his. Her arm laid itself lightly across his waist, feeling the slow rise and fall of his breathing as she put her cheek to the hard slab of muscle above and sighed, a small, contented sound in the stillness that covered them like a blanket. They lay for a time, fingers exploring lazy paths across a hip, a thigh, tracing languid circles against chest or arm, as the companionable quiet between them deepened. It was a sudden, cool touch against the toes of his right foot that roused Clark again. The tide was rising further up the beach, snaking foaming fingers around them, reaching just a little further each time they surged across the sand. The last of the sun was low on the horizon and the air was growing decidedly cool on bodies still slick with the sweat of their exertions. With a low, regretful sigh, Clark shifted, raising himself to his knees and rousing Lois with the motion from the drowsing sleep into which she'd drifted. She blinked up on him muzzily. Another cool surge of wetness against his leg reminded him that the beach was becoming less welcoming. He glanced around him and gathered up their scattered things, rescuing Lois' bikini top from a slyly snatching wave, before lifting her gently with him to stand. She hung on loose around his neck and kissed a sleepy line across his collarbone as he put his hands around her waist to steady her against him. He smiled as he helped her to dress, actually as he dressed her - Lois' main, sleepy contribution was to lift legs and arms at various, relative moments in line with his suggestions. Finally, he tucked the last of her neatly into the lime-green cotton cups, adjusted the spaghetti straps and held onto her with one arm around her waist, letting her lean heavily against his shoulder as he awkwardly pulled on his speedos. He smiled tenderly down at her as he lifted her into his arms. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you into bed." "Mmmmmm. You say the sweetest things," she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck and nuzzling at his throat. He chuckled as he carried her up the stone steps to the complex. "I love you?" he said. "That's always a good one," she agreed. She stretched her neck to find his lips and kissed him pertly. "I love you too." He paused to reward her for that, capturing her lips and exploring them lazily for a while. Then he lifted his head, a sly sparkle forming in his eyes. "Hmmmmm. How about......?" he put his lips against her ear and whispered a few, carefully chosen words, between investigating its inner shell with his tongue. His wife's eyes widened. "Clark Kent! That's positively - " "Exciting?" "Well - " "Dangerous?" "That too." He considered. "Out of bounds?" he ventured, mock disappointed. He had no real concerns of rejection. The biggest discovery of their
marriage had been that neither of them seemed to have much in the way
of limits to their passion or taboos when it came to pleasuring each other.
Clark had been surprised when Lois had confided once in the companionable
aftermath of passion, when softly whispered secrets had been traded between
them in the cozy nest of tumbled sheets in which Some months later, he had laughed out loud and so hard that he had fallen from the top of the washer, where they'd just made love, when she had confided dryly that a previous lover had once left her in tears by announcing she was obviously frigid and too boring to stimulate a man. He had found himself unable to perform after overdosing on English Real Ale at a charity bash. It had really been the only reasonable response considering they were on top of the washer in the first place because his wife had voiced a desire to see if the spin cycle could match certain portions of Super anatomy when it came to pleasuring her to orgasm. (Clark had been doubtful that the experiment was valid if the two were in conjunction at the time, but Lois was adamant that the point was not comparison but augmentation. She declared Clark the proven winner, not least because the washer coughed to a spluttering halt long before they were through and later took fifty seven dollars and ninety eight cents in repairs to a burned out motor.) "Not exactly," Lois answered, drawing him from his amused memories and not disappointing him any. He grinned. "Define 'not exactly'." Lois shifted in his grip. "Define......what you just suggested," she countered, flushing prettily. A deep rumble of laughter vibrated up through her bones as his eyes glinted down into hers. "My pleasure, Mrs. Kent," he told her before adding wickedly, "And probably yours too, if you behave. Lois giggled, burying her face against his neck and kissing him vigorously as he continued up the steps. When he reached the top and the hotel complex came into view, he set her on her feet and took hold of her hand. They strolled in companionable silence along the rocky little path, enjoying the crisp, salt tang of the cooling sea air as dusk drifted across the shore far below and crept up onto the now gaily lighted stoop surrounding the hotel. As they made their way up the small set of steps to the hotel entrance, they were passed by a gaggle of young women, obviously heading out for a visit to the nightclubs in the town. Clark paid them little attention, other than to put a protective arm around Lois' waist and pull her closer against his side to save her getting jostled, as they swept past the couple in a cloud of strong scent and glittering disco wear, laughing and chattering girl talk. It was as he guided Lois up the last of the stairs with a light hand at her back that he paused. Lois looked back at him, illuminated starkly in the bright overhead light of the porch and frowned at the strange expression on his face. A mixture of chagrin and absolute astonishment. "Clark?" He glanced across his shoulder at the retreating women and Lois suddenly recognized the blonde bombshell from the pool in the middle of the group. She narrowed her eyes as several of the young women looked back at them standing on the steps and then gathered close around the blonde, whispering rapidly as they walked quickly on towards the path. "No!" "Really?" "Well, how do you - ?" The babble of high, excited questions overlapped and drifted back to Lois and then one, slightly more raucous than the rest and shrill with sharp disappointment rose above them all to shriek: "Aw, geez, what a waste!" The offending owner of that incredulous voice was hurriedly shushed by her friends and the group's pace quickened, their heels clicking a rapid tattoo against the stone steps. Lois watched them go, open mouthed and then let her head swing to settle her gaze on Clark. He was huddled up against the stone wall of the porch, shoulders shaking, face strained, tears gathering in his deep brown eyes as he silently laughed himself into a fit. Lois walked across and punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Clark!" He shook his head, laughing all the harder. After a moment he put his
back to the wall and slid to sit down hard on the ground, his knees pressed
to his chest as he hitched in a couple of hard breaths, wiping Lois scowled down at him. "Did she just tell them what I think she told them?" she demanded, shooting a dark glare out into the now empty landscape. He nodded weakly, as his laughter finally slowed to a few gentle hiccups of breath. "Seems our Miss Beachwear '98 doesn't take rejection well," he managed at last, looking up at her with a silly grin. Lois folded her arms tight. "She told them you were gay," she said dangerously and then, an indignant snarl, "Well, what the hell does that make *me*!" Clark exploded into laughter again, doubling over and shaking his head. Lois waited him out furiously, tapping her foot and glaring at him, which only made him laugh all the harder. "Camouflage," he managed to gasp out after a time or two spent clutching his ribs and trying to soothe his wife's pique through his chuckles. "What?" "She thinks you're camouflage." He waggled his eyebrows at her. "I keep you around to conceal my natural base, carnal desires. Apparently," he added. "She saw a Jerry Springer show on it once," he went on, settling his head back against the wall, exhausted by his laughter and getting over the occasional residual hiccup as he managed to get himself under control. "Camouflage," Lois said. "And *you* think this is funny?" He looked up at her, surprise shadowing his face under the harsh light overhead. He raised a brow. "You don't?" She opened her mouth and was pre-emptied by his sigh as he hauled himself
to his feet, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and eased her in a stiff-legged
walk for the door. "Honey, think about it," he soothed Lois did think about it as she let him walk her across the marble lobby
and towards the elevators. He let her go to press the call button and
then stood idly waiting. After a moment, he began to whistle quietly Several moments later, as the elevator doors opened to disgorge them
into the lobby, the group of carefully groomed Japanese businessmen, descending
from the Nagasaki Oyster Fishermen's Coalition Conference in the Twelfth
Floor Mermaid Suite, were surprised to find themselves having to negotiate
the hysterically laughing couple clinging on to each other desperately
and clad only in beachwear. Fini. |