CHALLENGE: CLARK

Small aside from your author: I guess I have to explain the title. We used to have a program over here (never one of my favorites, I'll confess) called CHALLENGE: ANNEKA. A national personality (sic) was handed a challenge each week - do something almost impossible for a charitable institution at nil or thereabouts cost - and had a certain amount of time to succeed. Mostly it involved Anneka badgering businessmen on the phone to donate their time and materials to the project. And, of course, she always succeeded. Anyway, it was the only thing that popped to mind when I was racking what passes for my brain for a title for this one. (As you may have figured, titles are the bane of my existence!). If anyone can think of anything better, I am (like Anneka <g>) grateful for all donations.

One last thing though............it's only just occurred to me as I type this to wonder just what using this title suggests about Lois. At the time I just heard the word 'challenge' echo in my head, the program popped to mind and I thought, 'That'll do!' Ah well - I sincerely doubt Clark thinks of her as a charitable institution he has to help out. (Neither do I, before anyone asks!! <g>)

The sun set slowly on the blue sea horizon. The young couple - handsome, beautiful and very much in love - embraced on the silver, red-tinted sands of the tropical beach. A romantic score, undoubtedly penned by James Horner (lyrics by Tim Rice), swelled to an upbeat crescendo, artfully invoking a few musical moments of happiness, long term commitment, a condo in New York, a cabin in Aspen, and stirring hope for the future in the face of overwhelming adversity. Just about everything in fact that young love could dream of and aspire to in these commercial times.

Fade to end titles.

Clark lifted the remote, aimed it at the screen and zapped the orchestral celebration to a muted, faintly tinkling pastiche, letting the softly surging waves and slowly sinking sun set into the boundless, Technicolor horizon that was home video. His other hand, which had momentarily paused in its gentle, easy massaging of the small foot resting on the cushion at his lap, took up its ministrations again and then switched its soothing strokes to its companion laying beside it.

"Well, that wasn't *so* bad. Really. I mean the romance was kinda cheesy and the puppy with the broken leg trapped in the mine shaft was a bit of an overkill, but it was pretty much okay. Don't you think? Lois?"

He turned his head when the expected acid critique failed to arrive and a smile twitched at his lips as his eyes fell on his wife. Somewhere along the line it seemed his Little Tornado had given up on him, romance *and* blue horizons and was now blissfully asleep as she reclined at full stretch on the sofa beside him.

He let his eyes roam her supine curves for a moment, just taking one of his quiet moments to drink her in and let his heart fill itself with the sight of her. He could always use one of those moments out of his day. Some days more than most.

The peach silk of the spectacular dress molded itself to her even more spectacular curves. Its soft, pastel tones picked up heat and light from the lambent glow of flames from the fireplace, turning her into a mysterious creature formed of flickering shadows and warmly glowing color. Her hair had escaped somewhat from its confinement piled high on her head, much of it spread in a dark cloud against the cushion and with one arm flung loose across her waist in unconscious abandon and one hand tucked child-like beneath her cheek, she looked......adorable.

The flickering light played too on the pale honey of her skin, gently touching the long, naked curves of her throat, trailing muted fingers downward across her bared shoulders to dissolve into the deeply intriguing shadows buried within the v-shaped cleft of her neckline and against the firm, shapely curves where the discreet and artful cut of the wrapover dress allowed its draped sheath to fall back from her legs, baring them from mid-thigh right down to the foot he was still absently stroking as his eyes explored her. Clark harbored the faint suspicion that it might just have been that added little extra to its design which had swayed the purchase for Lois. He had noted how she'd positioned herself on the sofa beside him - casual and careful, ingenuously arranging the folds of silk around her - whilst pretending not to notice at all.

He smiled with the thought. She'd been trying so hard, when she really didn't have to try at all - which only made him appreciate all of the hard work she'd put in on it all the more. Now, appreciating the view, he allowed his hand to stroke its way across the soft arch of her foot, let it briefly enclose one slim ankle, marveling at how fragile a collection of bone and flesh formed the curves beneath his fingers, before they splayed themselves wide to encompass as much of her warmth as they could find. They skimmed in a whispered touch along her lower leg, one knee, and came to rest against the softness of her thigh. He sighed and then chuckled, shaking his head ruefully as he took back his hand.

"This from the woman who threatened me with 'vile, violent death' if I didn't make sure we saw a movie all the way through to the end titles without interruptions," he murmured, amused.

She had planned her seduction so well. He had returned home later than expected that evening after a fraught few hours spent clearing up a major pile-up on the main freeway out of Metropolis. It had been a minor miracle that no one out of the twenty or so plus vehicles involved had emerged with anything more than cuts and bruises - and one slight case of concussion where a fragile skull never intended to handle such abuse had smacked against a sharply decelerating windshield. But the crush of vehicles had formed an intriguing new modern artformed sculpture in the middle of the main route in and out of the city - a solid-block crush of metal and glass that was preventing the emergency services from gaining access to the injured - and a petroleum truck had shed its cargo in a glistening, acrid pool around it in what was a major headache for fire and ambulance crews and clearly a job for a resident local superhero.

It hadn't been easy, even with super-powers. Oh, the mechanics of the problem were simplicity itself to deal with. But tempers were frayed, accusation and anger had flown from those involved in the wreck with the speed and velocity of the glass still littering the freeway and Superman had come in for his less than fair share of criticism and obstruction as he'd tried to help and calm the situation. As if that wasn't bad enough, he'd had to listen to a lecture from a hard-nose in a hard-hat who'd explained with all the patience of someone tutoring a somewhat dim-witted child that it really wasn't helpful for the superhero to go clearing up the mess before he could take pictures for evidence in future litigation claims. Not to mention trying to convince an irate motorist that Superman's priority right then wasn't to retrieve his briefcase from inside the crushed hulk of his brand new Lotus, no matter how important the papers inside, before he was rescued by a sympathetic cop who'd steered the bitterly complaining gent to one side and away from the increasingly ticked off Man of Steel.

Add this to a week in which the man in the cape had invaded more of his free time than he was willing to give up. A week in which Lois had become increasingly withdrawn and cool as she'd been left repeatedly at the most awkward of moments to deal with their workload at the Planet alone. A week in which he'd hardly spent more than a few moments alone with his wife at all. And he missed her. He missed working with her. He missed sharing the quiet moments of his life with her, spending time with her, being able to hold and caress her for more than a few minutes out of each day and knowing that Lois blamed him for the wreck that their personal life had lately become made things even harder to take.

And that was the real crux of his mood. The rest he could have shrugged off - had before, would again - but that Lois was mad at him was what was really darkening his thoughts. It wasn't only that he just plain didn't like her being mad, but that it made him realize just how much he turned to her when life turned sour on him. How much he relied on her soft warmth for comfort and succor. And how much he missed her when that safe haven in his life wasn't there.

So, he'd been tired and out of sorts when he'd landed lightly on the wide windowsill of an apartment that was abandoned to its own, empty darkness. He had fought down a flicker of disappointment as he'd stepped down into the living room, figuring that Lois was still at the Planet, no doubt working on the story he'd been forced to abandon to her earlier. He grimaced. That bailing out on top of all the others this week wasn't bound to go down well with his wife either.

It was undoubtedly the weary, miserable ache in his mind that blinded him to the obvious. He'd been tiredly debating his wisest course of action as he'd trudged towards the stairs. A - he could get cleaned up, wash out the stink of oil and smoke that clung to him like a badly fitted cape and get on with preparing a 'Sorry, honey - can I come out of the dog-house now?' dinner in anticipation of his wife's return......or, B - he wondered briefly on the possibility that if he flew straight to the Planet after cleaning up and helped Lois put their story to bed......might she be receptive to joining it when he got her back home?

Plan A was making itself known as probably the safest course, if not the most desirable one, when his senses kicked in and he'd realized he wasn't alone after all.

"Lois?" he'd turned his head, puzzled, to ask the collection of heat and soft breath and warm scent that stood shrouded by darkness someway to his left.

A sudden flare of light pierced the shadows and his wife's face was illuminated in the glow as she bent over to touch the flame to the tall candle set on the dining table before her.

"Hey," she whispered as she lighted its companion and straightened to blow out the match with a soft puff of breath. She gifted him a soft smile. "I've been waiting for you."

Clark stared at the vision in front of him for a long moment before he swallowed roughly. "So I see," he managed at last, his eyes filled with her. And only her.

She was wearing a dress he was absolutely certain he'd never seen before, a softly draped creation in a pastel, watered silk that clung tight and close in all the right places. Its lines were deceptively simple, its bodice fitted in close against her slim figure to enhance every soft curve she possessed and a few that might otherwise have gone unnoticed, closely caressing the swell of her breasts before softening into a deeply cowled neckline that left the long, elegant line of her throat and the palely gleaming skin of her shoulders bare. What passed for sleeves fell in narrow, graduated strands of that same peach silk to her elbows. Nipped in tight around the narrowness of her waist, the dress was gathered softly into a double fanned pleated arrangement, tied together at their narrowest ends with a small gold ring, which automatically drew the eye into further appreciation of just how narrow that waist was and how enticing the flaring curves of her hips were below, before it fell in a draped, liquid sheath to the floor.

It glowed in the flickering light of the candles. And Lois glowed too. The subtle, almost invisible application of cosmetics had transformed her face, emphasizing the dark glory of her eyes and those delicate cheekbones, drawing his gaze to the glistening curve of her lips. Her hair, grown almost to the length it had been when he'd first met her, had been upswept and twisted into a simple, elegant confection of curls piled high on her head and pinned with a delicate spray of white blossom fashioned from gold and zirconium, the gems sparkling amongst the darkly gleaming strands as they picked up the glow from her eyes. A few, artful tendrils fell loose, giving an ingenuous impression of dishevelment which was delightfully appealing.

Clark, standing in the middle of the living room, round eyed, was quite simply entranced and he had every intention of contributing to that dishabille as he moved towards her. But he paused all at once, stopping in the doorway of the dining room to glance down ruefully at his stained and ill-smelling Suit. He looked back up into his wife's face and held up a finger as she raised an expectant brow.

"Just......give me a minute," he breathed, before vanishing in a blur that whipped its way through the living room, causing drapes to flutter in its wake and a nearby lamp to wobble alarmingly before it righted itself.

Lois sighed as the candle flames guttered wildly and then expired with a faintly startled gasp of air. She shook her head as she searched briefly for and then struck another match. Re-setting the ambiance of the room with a couple of deft touches of the flame, she raised the match and pursed her lips.

A lightly blown breath from over her shoulder killed the flame before she could and then her husband put those poised lips to much more satisfying use as he turned her expertly into his arms and took possession of her mouth with his own in a kiss that sent her senses spinning and lent a new flush of color and heat to her skin.

He kissed her as though he would never have his fill of her, his hands running a path up her bare arms, fingers entwining themselves in strands of silk before they enclosed the naked skin of her shoulders in a gentle grip and then moved restlessly on, as though wanting to touch her everywhere and all at once. His hand cupped itself firmly to the nape of her neck as he deepened the kiss, his lips teasing hers apart. His free arm slipped its way around her waist, pulling her tightly against the lean, muscled length of his body as lips and mouth and tongue devoured her.

It was only when she began to struggle faintly against him that he let her go. Lois fought off a wave of air-deprived dizziness as he lifted his head and felt what air she'd managed to haul into her lungs leave her again in a heady rush as she was pinned by the low burning heat in the deep, brown gaze fixed on her. Clark let loose a quiet breath as he laid his forehead against hers. "Baby, you have *no* idea how much I needed that," he murmured. His hands rested on her shoulders, his fingers kneading lightly at the soft silk of her skin.

"Uh......uh......"

"Lois?" He drew back slightly to frown down at her and she stared back at him through glazed eyes. "Honey? You okay?"

"Uh-huh......" she managed faintly. His gaze dropped from her slightly dazed expression to her kiss-reddened lips, eyes intent once more. He drew the pad of a lightly questing thumb across their swollen surface and then sighed as he drew her close and put his cheek to hers. He closed his eyes.

Responding instinctively to his obvious need for comfort, Lois slid her arms around his waist. "Everything's okay, isn't it?" she asked somewhat anxiously after a moment. "I mean, I watched the local news and they said -- "

"No, it's fine," he assured her quickly. "No one got badly hurt. It was just......" he paused, then pressed his lips to her temple, "......a poor end to a really bad week," he concluded wryly.

Lois murmured a wordless agreement against his neck before adding, "Tell me about it. But," she added firmly, pushing gently free of him, "that's past and for *now* we get to spend -- "

Her words trailed as she got her first good look at him since he'd returned to the room. She had expected him to change into something casual, but she should have known better than to underestimate her husband's potential for judging the occasion. He was wearing black dress pants and a long-sleeved, band-collared shirt in a matching black and gray stripe. She recognized it as one that she'd bought him for his birthday, several weeks back. He hadn't worn it, had said he'd been saving it for a special occasion - and then their social life had been shot to hell and she guessed he'd never found the opportunity. Till now. He'd rolled the sleeves back to expose smoothly tanned arms and opened up the top buttons at his neck to reveal a V of taut, muscled skin. His hair was still slightly damp from his shower at lightspeed, but that unruly lock of hair had already fallen onto his brow and he looked.......

"You......you look really - *good*," Lois breathed.

An amused glint rose in his eyes. "Why thank you, Mrs. Kent." He moved closer and she smiled as he drew her smoothly into his embrace. "And you," he whispered, "look beautiful."

The warmth of his fingers lingered on her bare skin as they skimmed a teasing path down along her arms and splayed themselves at her waist, almost spanning it completely. There was heat too in the soft, whispering touch of his lips against the side of her throat as they trailed the quick beating line of her pulse. A drift of light caresses that set a slow shiver rolling through her like a restless tide.

Her husband's hand rose to cradle her cheek and Lois closed her eyes, pressing cat-like against his palm, rubbing lightly against his caress and allowing him to explore to the full the long curve of her neck and throat. His tongue dipped briefly into the hollow of her shoulder, an especially sensitive point that sent an almost unbearably delicious tingle coursing down through her spine. But his mouth moved on, leaving a warmly pulsing glow in its wake as it quested its way on an explorative trail from her shoulder to the equally sensitive skin just below her ear.

Lois' lips parted slightly and, as though drawn irresistibly to that unconscious lure, Clark's mouth shifted course, his head lifting to capture her lips and seal them to his own.

Lois' hands fluttered to his neck, enclosing the taut muscles of his throat and delighting in the rapid rise in the pulse beneath her fingers, before they moved on to bury themselves in his hair. Clark's hands moved restlessly to her back, stroking gently across her spine before shifting to press her closer against his leanly muscled body. The pressure of his lips on hers increased.

Eventually, Clark raised his head reluctantly and smiled down into his wife's flushed face. He lifted a finger, entwining it slowly in one tendril of hair as she opened eyes that shone faintly with the aftermath of her ardor. He let the finger drop to the hollow of her throat and then watched it take a slow trail downward to where it was balked by the lowest point of her neckline. He traced the line of the cowl, up onto one shoulder and then reversed its course. He hooked it into the dress and tugged gently as he dipped his head to bestow a soft kiss on the swell of one breast as it rose and fell gently, just above the line of silk.

He raised his head and Lois caught her breath, her heart stuttering into a hammerbeat as she saw heat and desire reflected in the glitter of her husband dark eyes. He put out a hand to cradle her jaw and kissed her lips as delicately as he had her breast, like a man worshipping at the altar of his Goddess, before planting another against her jaw and cheek and finally settling at her ear, where he nibbled gently. Lois trembled in his arms, moved beyond words by this simple testament to his appreciation of her charms.

He let her go and stepped back to hold her at arm's length, his hands holding her around the waist as he looked her over with a smile. "This must have cost a fortune," he said. "Are we going to meet the mortgage payments this month?"

Lois laughed and stepped out of his grasp, backing up another pace or so. She held her arms clear of her sides and modeled the dress for him in all its glory with a slow twirl, before tilting her head to view him questioningly. "You like?"

"Oh, I like," he agreed. He reached to pull her back into his arms and Lois giggled quietly as he kissed her again. His fingers slipped gently back and forth across the silk covering her ribs. "I like it a whole lot." His touch moved to cup lightly at her breast. He explored its curve as he murmured against her lips, "But I like what's in it more. So, what's the occasion?"

"The occasion is......" She smiled as she reached up to brush gentle fingers against the lock of still damp hair that had tumbled onto his forehead. "Our first chance to be alone in over a week. And - " her smile faded slightly and she looked down for a moment before adding quietly, "And I wanted to apologize."

He stopped raining light kisses against her temple and brow and his fingers paused in their gentle kneading of her breast, his thumb freezing in place against the hardening tip of her nipple. He lifted his head to look at her with a frown.

"Apologize? For what?"

"Oh, you know." Her finger played against the collar of his shirt. "I've been pretty......well, actually, I've been downright mean this past week," she admitted honestly. She gave him an earnest look. "And I know it's not your fault that Superman's been kept so busy, but -- "

"I know." Clark stopped the apology with another brush of his lips against hers and then smiled faintly as he stroked a thumb across the line of her cheekbone. "And I'm sorry too."

"You?" Lois' lips twitched. "What are you sorry for? It's Superman's fault," she joked.

Clark paused. Then he gave her a considering glance. "It is? Well then maybe Superman should make it up to you," he suggested, moving before she could fully realize his intent and scooping her into his arms.

"Oh no - hold it right there, buster!" Lois said, planting a slim finger against his chest as he headed rapidly for the stairs.

He stopped, looking at her enquiringly.

"I didn't spend half the evening getting all dressed up just so that you could peel me out of this thing," she told him, looking mock displeased.

He raised a slow brow. "No?" His eyes gave her a slow once over that would have been insulting had he been any other man. "You could have fooled me."

Lois' eyes twinkled up into his. "Well......not right away, anyhow." She pointed across his shoulder. "Dinner first. And it's getting cold."

"Dinner?" As though the word had been a clarion call to his senses, he was suddenly aware of the delicious mixture of aromas that was filling the air around him. He raised his head, sniffing appreciatively. He set Lois down gently on her feet. "Do I smell Guglielmo's special clam and shellfish linguini?"

Lois laughed. "You smell......" she paused for breath, "....Linguini Con Aragosta. Guglielmo Jnr. is trying out some new recipes. He says his favorite customer should like this one. It's saut E9ed half lobster with clams, mussels, shrimp and scallop in a *very* rich marinara sauce. Bongustaio Cheese Ravioli, that's saut E9ed with wild porcini mushrooms, proscuitto and peas in a cream sauce. We have two extra large helpings of Linguini Ortolana as a side dish. And chocolate cream pie to follow."

She grinned at his solemn eyed following of this recitation.

He tilted his head to view her consideringly. "Two helpings of Linguini Ortolana?" he said, sounding awed. "Lois Lane," he declared soberly, " - have I ever told you how much I love you? If you weren't wearing that ring on your finger, I'd ask you to marry me."

"Well, I'd say no," she told him, firmly. "I wouldn't marry a man who only loves me for my ability to dial in takeout."

"But takeout is a man's best friend," he said as he took hold of her hand and tugged her after him for the dining room. "And chocolate cream pie, of course." He shook his head. "Might have known you'd get chocolate in there somewhere."

"Well, it's only fair. I get chocolate, *you* get an extra helping of pasta." Her eyes sparkled into his as he pulled out a chair for her.

Clark grinned as she settled herself gracefully into the offered seat. He bent to brush his lips against the nape of her neck. "You can't call that fair," he judged as she shook out her napkin. "Not when you're the beneficiary on both counts."

His wife simply smiled as he headed into the kitchen to serve up their meal and though he later suggested that it was entirely too knowing a smile - even perhaps a little smug - she denied it vehemently.

The evening had been magical. The dinner had been perfection and, for once, the world seemed willing to acquiesce to Lois' demands that it butt out of their lives. Or perhaps it had simply been too fearful to balk her. Sharing the sparking companionship of the beautiful woman seated opposite, feeling himself grow warm inside in response to her laughter, the trials and strains of the week melting from his mind, and appreciating the humor and charm that exuded from her as she teased and seduced him, Clark Kent had figured himself to be a very lucky man.

He'd have considered himself even luckier if his wife had permitted him to ease her upstairs after they'd finished their meal, where he could have shown her, slowly, lazily and completely, just how successful she'd been at heating him up with her teasing. But Lois hadn't been done with him yet. What better way to end the evening, she'd informed him wickedly, than snuggling on the sofa with the romantic video she'd picked up from the rental store on her way home. Clark could think of one better way - like skipping the video completely - but he'd had to admit that slow seduction brought its own rewards and he was enjoying the quietly building air of anticipation which Lois had skillfully manufactured for him throughout the evening.

Besides, snuggling was good. He enjoyed snuggling with Lois almost as much as he did making love to her. And he had the feeling, he'd thought amused - as Lois had arranged herself decoratively for maximum effect on the sofa beside him and complained pitifully that all that running around had left her with sore feet - that he was going to be well rewarded for his patience. With all the planning his wife had done to please him this evening, she undoubtedly hadn't left the bedroom out of the equation. He'd grinned at her as she'd lifted one foot, pointing it delicately at him in silent command and had settled into watching the 'Greatest Love Story of Our Times' as the video blurb proclaimed whilst dutifully massaging the day's ache out of her.

And then, somewhere along the line, his playful, adorable wife had let all of her carefully laid plans fall to ruin and fallen asleep on him.

Clark chuckled, taking another glance at her face, soft and child-like in sleep, as his fingers continued to absently trace small circles against the silken skin of her foot. He patted it affectionately and then grasped both feet in one large hand, lifting them slightly to enable him to slide out from under. He replaced them gently on the cushion and wandered into the large, homey kitchen to make himself some tea.

He thought about making coffee for Lois too, but then reconsidered. He was loathe to wake her. The easy hour or so's movie watch had dampened down his libido considerably, settling him into a mood almost as drowsy as his wife's had been. And Lois had had a tiring day and an even tougher week. She deserved the rest. It was no wonder she was exhausted, he thought, stirring at the small china cup of tea.

Lois had shifted onto her side when he returned to the living room, her back pressed tight against the sofa's and her legs drawn up slightly. Her breasts rose and fell faintly with her soft breaths and the somnambulant beat of her heart in sleep was a soothing lullaby to Clark's ears as he put his cup down on the side table next to the sofa opposite. Her hair had fallen into one eye, its glimmering clasp pulled askew and he hunkered down beside her to ease it free. He brushed back the strands obscuring her face with a soft finger and then teased out the tangled curls from the remnants of its former, elegant style, stroking his fingers through them until they regained some semblance of order, tumbled loose against her neck.

He smiled, liking the effect and studied her face for a long moment, feeling so strong a wave of tenderness sweep him that he caught his breath. Then he lowered his head to press his lips to one cheek, his hand cupping briefly at her jaw.

"I love you, sweetheart," he whispered and smiled again as he crossed to pick up his cup and eased himself wearily into the cushions of the sofa, where he could watch her as he enjoyed the warming Oolong brew.

He sipped slowly, savoring the scent and taste of the tea and laid his head back against the plump cushions, closing his eyes as he let himself relax, working out the kinks in his own day.

Over in the corner the phone rang twice and then was silenced by the faint click of the answering machine. Clark raised his head, glancing quickly at Lois to ensure that she hadn't been disturbed. This demon of modern technology hadn't been missed out of her plans any - its volume level had been turned way down long before he'd arrived home to a level where even superears had to strain to hear it. But, low volume or not, the woman had ears like a bob-cat's when it came to such things, even in sleep, and he'd rather she wasn't woken. Not yet.

But she slept on and Clark tuned in his hearing to catch the message being taped. To his relief it was just one of his hoop buddies, letting him know that the time for their monthly game had been set back an hour. Nothing that would cause a conflict of conscience and an inner debate on whether this was something Lois would be desperate to know and highly miffed at not being told right there, right then.

He settled back into the sofa. His eyes returned to study his sleeping wife. He finished the tea. After a time, a slow and decidedly wicked gleam began to warm in his brown eyes as his thoughts wandered over her delightfully disheveled figure, with its tantalizing glimpses of bare, honeyed skin amongst the silk, as intently as his gaze did. Thoughts that began to turn irresistibly to mischief.

He put down his cup and rose to his feet to stand over her. He chewed at his lower lip for a moment and then shrugged. She could hardly blame him, all things considered, could she? After all, she'd put so much effort into planning this seduction, right down to the minutest detail. It was a shame to let all of her planning go to waste. The least he could do was return the favor.

That was all the justification the growing ache between his legs needed. A slow grin overtook him as he began to plan his campaign. He kept his gaze on his innocently sleeping wife as he casually stripped off his dress pants and briefs, socks and shoes, until he was wearing only the black and gray striped shirt, loose and unbuttoned. The pants and briefs were already too constricting, grown uncomfortably tight as his eyes and thoughts had wandered, watching Lois sleep, and he was relieved to be free of them. But he didn't want to disrobe completely, unwilling to entirely forego the pleasure of having her help him out of his clothes. He loved the way she undressed him when they made love, the way her fingers stroked his skin, the way her hands roamed across ----

His hands. He lifted them before him and studied them with a frown. His hands were going to be a problem. Using them on her would make his self-imposed challenge a moot point before he'd even started. He grinned again. But then, what was the point of a challenge if it was easy? He let himself rise into the air, floating easily a few inches shy of the carpet before he rolled on the invisible support of the air beneath him until he was horizontal and positioned over the recumbent figure beneath him.

Hovering close enough to feel her light, rhythmic breath on his cheek, to feel the heat rising from her lips, he remained still distant enough to ensure that he didn't touch her outstretched body with any part of his.

Not any part.

Ooops. He glanced down with the thought and then adjusted his height marginally upwards. He grinned and tucked his hands firmly at his back, knitting them tightly to avoid temptation. Now......his grin widened, turning feral and calculating......let's just see how far he could get, how much of her he could explore with his mouth and lips, before she woke.

Clark accepted his own challenge enthusiastically, geared himself up to the starting grid, and bet himself that he could get at least an eighty per cent take before he was busted.

He stared down intently into her face, like a man considering which bite of the cherry to take first and then dipped his head cautiously to trace the outline of one ear with his tongue. With no more than a feathering of touch, the faintest whisper of a caress, he explored the whorls and folds of its inner shell and then withdrew to close his lips around its lobe. He sucked gently and then trapped it between his teeth, letting them rake lightly across its soft surface as he let it ease from his mouth.

Lois stirred beneath him and he paused, breathing slightly faster as he raised his head to watch. She eased herself onto her back, murmuring something below the level of even his hearing. The tip of her tongue emerged to lick fitfully at her lips and then she sighed, retreating deeper into sleep again. Clark's eyes followed the moistened bow of her lower lip for an instant and then shook his head. Uh-huh. Best that was kept out of bounds till later.

He eyed his wife suspiciously, considering her response to his first attempt. This might be more of a challenge than he'd figured.

But, hey, he was Superman, right? He flashed her a wolfish grin that she was entirely oblivious to, but would have probably challenged furiously if she'd seen it. She didn't stand a chance, he told himself smugly.

He waited a moment, until he was sure she was settled, and then bent his head to nuzzle slowly and softly at the hook of her jaw before following its line up onto her cheek. His lips traced the contours of her face, never pausing in any one place too long, always on the move. Finally, he grew confident enough to finish up by pressing them deeply to her own. Using that insistent pressure to force her lips apart, he let his tongue dip deeply into the warm cavern before he withdrew. He indulged himself by running its tip along the slick, inner surfaces of her lips before he took a moment's pause. He was breathing more heavily now and there was a impatient tugging low down in his belly and groin that urged him to give up the game and surrender to its pull.

He shut it determinedly out of mind - or at least to a faint, muted throbbing - and began to explore the delicate tracery of veins beneath the skin of Lois' throat. He lapped briefly at its hollow and then moved on, skimming along each collarbone in turn.......and paused again, closing his eyes as he savored the touch of silk against his lips. Still and silent, he let her scent wash over him, surround him and then groaned quietly against the curve of her shoulder. Sweat beaded slick as butter at his forehead. He trembled faintly as he forced himself to stay completely un-moving, trying to clear his thoughts.

How much of a percentage had he figured on? For a moment, distracted by the soft rise and fall of his wife's breasts, he couldn't remember. Then he had it. Eighty per cent? He groaned again and lowered his forehead to Lois' chest. He'd been insane. He lay still another moment, considering, listening to the uncomfortable pound of his heart against his ribs, and came to with a start as he realized that his face was now pressed deeply into the valley between Lois' breasts, his lips caressing their upward curves and that, somewhat traitorously and entirely of their own volition, the fingers of one hand were curled into the neckline of the silk dress, easing it away from the prize it concealed and granting his restless mouth access to one drowsing peak.

Okay, how about fifty per cent? Fifty per cent wasn't bad, were his last thoughts on the subject as he gave in to irresistible temptation and let his mouth nudge clear the silk covering, even as his fingers yanked firmly downwards. His hand cupped the weight of her full breast, easing it clear of its confinement as his tongue roused the soft nub to instant, urgent life.

Lois whimpered, her head moving fitfully against its cushion. Her lips parted, forming a soft mewling gasp as Clark let his lips close on the now pebble hard tip of her nipple and increased his steady pull against her flesh, groaning deeply against her skin as he felt pleasure skitter down along his spine and into the hard, pulse of need between his thighs.

His fingers explored the edges of his wife's dress and discovered the simple gold ring at her waist which was the sole reason it currently held together. A simple twist of his wrist released the catch, enabling him to slide its edges apart and back from the rosy flesh it draped. A second, inner snap clasp was as easy to pop free and the silk slid through his fingers and into a slow drift to the sofa. He raised his head from the breast he'd been nuzzling and let himself gaze upon the full glory of his wife's naked form.

As he'd suspected from her mood, she was wearing nothing beneath the dress. No doubt she'd intended a demonstration of that clever little ring design later in their room. Against the rumpled bed of peach colored silk, her skin glowed warmly, each curve and hollow a perfect representation of a sculptor's dream. Yet, this was no dream. This was a living, breathing, vibrant woman. Beautiful and sensual.......and his. All his.

A hand laid itself against his arm, startling him out of his wondering reverie and he looked up quickly. But Lois was still asleep, only reaching for him instinctively as she tightened her grip and pulled him down against her. He acquiesced readily to her urging, taking possession of a breast that had hitherto been appallingly neglected and bestowing his full attention on it as his wife moaned and moved seductively beneath him. Her back arched to press the heavy mound of flesh deeper into his mouth as he suckled strongly.

The air was suddenly filled with the sharp spicy scent of arousal. Clark's nostrils flared and he grinned against the perfumed skin being gently thrust against his mouth. He let her go and eased himself lower.

As though instinctively aware of his intended destination, Lois spread herself slightly to allow him access. Clark ducked his head, using his tongue to lap at the delicate, sensitive hollows and folds of her moist core. Lois sighed softly, a gentle hitch of breath, and circled her hips in a slow, rhythmic rocking as that breath became a choked cry spilling deeply from her throat.

Clark parted the soft layers of flesh with his fingers to enable him to probe more deeply into her, lapping at her and then withdrew slightly, breathing harshly. Lois' heartbeat was a thundering rush through her veins now and he knew he wasn't going to win out on his bet. Actually, he considered, with a grin, he didn't much care about *that* any more. He bent his head again, eyes smoldering a low heat as he closed his mouth around her, sucking gently at her engorged sex.

Lois' eyes flew wide as her back arched a clear foot off of the sofa. She cried out softly as his tongue probed deeply into her center, thrusting and withdrawing strongly, tasting her slick flesh. "Oh......oh, Clark, I was having the most wonderful dream and......" the words broke off in a startled gasp as his stroking tongue pushed deeper inside her. "Ohhhh........."

Clark lifted his head and then floated gently forward, until he was covering her, so close that he could feel the heat rising from her body against his skin, yet still not touching. Not yet. Bringing her to slow, sultry life with his pleasuring had aroused him beyond all his expectations, almost unbearably so, and he wanted to spin out the moment, glorying in the sweet, heavy tension tightening in his groin and belly and in the heat glowing in her eyes. He took possession of her mouth, sharing with her the taste of her own desire and Lois moaned heavily as her lips came to vigorous life against his own. Her arms crept up around his neck and she whimpered a protest as her attempts to drag him down on her came to nothing.

"Clark......"

"Hmmmm......"

"Please, sweetheart......"

He smiled and let his weight settle on her. He could never deny her. Lois sighed with pleasure. The feel of him covering her, of his weight pushing her deeply down into the plush cushions of the sofa was incredibly erotic. The hard, insistent ridge of his erection pressed tight against her already aching center and she wriggled, trying to ease an ache that could only be soothed by him and him alone.

His fingers brushed against her damp curls, taking up where his mouth and tongue had left her. He stroked the tip of one lightly against the hard, pulsing nub he discovered and she cried out sharply as her hips bucked involuntarily against his hand. He cupped her gently, almost possessively, his free hand moving to stroke across the back of her leg and then lifting it until it was draped across his shoulder, her knee pressed against his neck. He left off his soft pleasuring at her heated center and dealt with her other leg in similar fashion. Lois lifted her hips, silently imploring him and he smiled, whispering, "Easy baby......I'm here......"

She whimpered a response, beyond coherent thought, as he slid his large, masculine hands beneath her to support the rounded curves of her bottom securely in his palms. He lifted her slightly, granting himself easier access to her moist, welcoming core as he raised himself to his knees to guide the tip of his shaft at her opening.

Anticipation coiled new tension in the pit of Lois' belly, a delicious torture. She felt the tip of his erection brush at the nest of curls guarding the heart of her passion and a fresh rush of wetness flooded between her legs as she squirmed eagerly against him. She pushed up with her hips, anxious to feel him fill her, but he simply rode out the motion, watching the muscles of her belly clench with a new, savage twist of need as he resisted her desperate urging. He placed a gentle kiss against their taut surface, feeling the tremor rushing through her in the trembling of her skin beneath his lips. She moaned and squirmed against the hands cupping her and holding her firm, aching to feel him bury himself within her.

"Clark......"

His own need was a sharp, unbearable tugging deep within him now and he could no longer prolong the sweetness of the moment. Yet, he entered her gently, easing his way into the tight, velvet sanctuary that gripped him firmly and surrounded him with her heat and slick damp folds. Lois felt him fill her, inch by slow, satisfying inch and her inner muscles clenched around him, sending a fierce jolt of electric warmth flooding through her. Her eyes, fixed wide on the ceiling above her, were clouded with desire, pupils contracting to mere pinpricks, desire a fierce glow in their dark, liquid depths. His thickness seemed suddenly to fill every part of her, her elevated position against him enabling him to press deep within her as he began to thrust lazily with firm, steady and unhurried strokes. The base of his shaft rubbed maddeningly against her throbbing nub and she writhed beneath him, sobbing wildly now, crying out her pleasure again and again and hearing his own rhythmic groans increase in intensity as they matched the rising pace of his strokes into her.

She gasped as his hands tugged her against him. A move that lifted her bottom higher and let him slide further into her moist depths. She trembled violently in his embrace, need an aching, unbearable throb way down low in her belly now, her breath harsh and ragged in her throat as he held her on the knife-edge of desire for a long, endless moment before one last plunging entry into her sent her spinning down into the pulsing, rainbow pool of color and light that burst all around her.

Surrounded by her liquid heat, his heart pounding a drumbeat of desire against his chest, Clark pushed deeper and deeper into her tight depths, a low, guttural moan dragged from him as he felt her clench around him, squeezing and caressing him as he slid from her and plunged into her in a sweet, instinctive rhythm.

Her soft, erotic cries and the knowledge that it was his motions within her that were producing them sent a sharp thrill of heat skimming down his spine and then she was coming around him, provoking an answering response as he felt the sweet satisfaction of release. He spent himself in her, his motions becoming residual and half-hearted as the flooding heat of his seed spilled into her and then he allowed himself to collapse limply onto her to lay between her thighs, his cheek against the damp skin of her belly as he listened to the trembling beat of her heart flicker and rage within her breast.

After a long moment, Lois reached to stroke trembling fingers through his hair, sighing softly. He shifted, gathering her in his arms and rolling onto his back, taking her with him to lay sprawled against his chest. She closed her eyes and a small, satisfied smile tugged at her lips. He hadn't withdrawn from her - he knew her so well. She loved the secure, warm feeling that having him remain within her, even when they were both spent, gave her. Feeling him continue to fill her soothed her and made her feel loved all over again.

His arms cradled her gently and after a time, as they enjoyed the lazy, sated aftermath of their exertions, his hands began to stroke lightly across her supine body, one tracing a soft path across the flaring curve of her hip, the other cupping and squeezing gently at her shoulder before sliding down her arm. He felt her breath, warm against the skin of his chest and then she began to giggle quietly.

He raised a brow. "What?"

She lifted her head slightly, shifting to put her chin on crossed arms against his chest and study him from underneath her lashes. He was propped up against the arm of the sofa, one hand behind his head as he regarded her enquiringly. She pushed herself higher, out of his grip and kissed him pertly on the nose.

"That was quite some wake up call," she murmured.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." He smiled, reaching to enclose her in his arms again and pausing as she shook her head.

She pushed her palms against his chest and eased herself to sit astride him, carefully, so as to keep him sheathed within her. She smiled and slid slowly and seductively down along his muscled thighs, enjoying the flicker of reaction in his darkening gaze and in the answering twitch from his shaft buried deeply within her. Finally, she raised herself slightly, allowing him to slip from her.

Sitting back on her heels, feeling his muscles bunch and contract intimately beneath her and between her thighs, she placed her hands flat on the sofa, either side of his hips, and then bent her head. The tip of her tongue flicked out to lap at the slick surface of his still hard shaft. She tasted both of them in the beads of moisture glistening in the nest of soft curls at the base of his arousal, her own juices mingling with his to create an enticing cocktail of scents and tastes.

Clark closed his eyes, holding back a whispered moan as she lapped her way along his length like a cat savoring cream and then opened them again to watch the erotic sight of his wife pleasuring him with her mouth and tongue. Her hair fell around his thighs, hiding her face from view. It brushed tantalizing feathers of sensation against his skin.

Lois lifted her head, her eyes glittering up into his and then she returned, this time to take the tip of his arousal gently between her lips. She paused, teasing him, before she lowered her head to let him slide inexorably into the moist cavern of her mouth, taking him in as fully as she could. She began a sweet, erotic pull against him, setting up a rhythmic tugging at the base of his shaft which sent tight coils of arousal sparking up into his belly like jolts of lightning. His hips arched in an involuntary bucking against her and she moaned deeply around the thickness filling her mouth.

Watching her intently, his eyes glowing with a fierce heat now, Clark began to rock his hips gently upward, pushing slowly in and then withdrawing. Lois let her teeth rake lightly along his length as he pulled almost free of her and then drew him back into the heated depths of her mouth as she began to suck strongly on him. The combination of feeling the sweetly torturous sensations her mouth and lips were creating in him and being able to watch her produced a dizzying rush of pleasure that brought him to the brink of control in another instant. He bucked again and felt that control shatter as he spilled his essence into her, crying out sharply, something that may have been her name, had he had time to form it fully.

Lois lifted her head, letting him slip slickly from her as he collapsed onto the sofa and then took him gently in her hands as she licked the last drops of moisture from the tip of his spent erection and bestowed a soft kiss upon it. The butterfly flutter of her lips against the baby soft sheath sent a low, lingering tremor through him and he sighed out a shivering breath, his large frame shuddering with its passage.

Lois smiled as she eased her way up along his smooth, muscular body and leant over him to look down into his flushed face. "Good?"

"Oh, yeah......"

He opened his eyes and smiled. He lifted his hands and ran them up along her arms and onto her shoulders and then dropped his gaze to where the firm globes of her breasts swayed temptingly above him. His grip shifted, slipping back down her upper arms and tightening to hold her firmly as he lifted her closer. He raised his head just enough to nuzzle at the soft, sensitive skin between those enticing curves and felt her squirm in his hands. He chuckled and moved his head, taking possession of one hardened nipple briefly and then letting it slip from him as he stroked his tongue in a light circle around the rosy aureole surrounding it.

Lois mewled softly, wriggling harder, and gasped as he relented, taking firm hold of the sensitive nub between his teeth and closing them gently on it. He tugged firmly and heard her groan as a flaring rush of heat slowly and exquisitely coiled a taut wire into the core of her belly. He bit down just a little more and she whimpered. He released the hard, swollen pebble in his mouth and bathed it in soft, open-mouthed kisses, soothing the throbbing flesh, before turning his attention to the neglected breast and lavishing similar attention on it.

Lois had stopped squirming by the time he was through. Her body was taut and tense beneath his hands and she trembled fiercely. Her breath was shallow, a series of quick, panting gasps. She closed her eyes with a groan as Clark returned to his original prize and took it into his mouth, sucking deeply on its round perfection, feeling the soft malleable flesh quiver as his wife's shallow breaths rose in pitch.

Again, he was conscientious in ensuring that both breasts received equal pleasuring, his suckling fierce and almost unbearable as the muscles of her belly and between her thighs clenched and flexed in tandem with the motions of his tongue and lips against her skin. The tension coiling deep between her legs was growing almost to the point of pain now as he left off and lifted his head to kiss her gently on the lips, then shifted his grip to bring her down close against his chest. He savored the sensation of skin on skin, the soft swell of her breasts pressing delightfully to his chest, as he tucked his chin into the hollow of her shoulder and nibbled at her ear.

Lois shuddered violently against him, her hands clutching at his shoulders as his spread their way down to follow the path of her spine and onto the curves of her rounded bottom below. He pressed her gently into the cradle of his hips and heard her stifle a low cry against his shoulder. She bit deep into the hard muscle there as his softly rocking motions began to rekindle the fire that had banked softly and briefly within her.

She moaned as he shifted his grip to her hips and then slid one hand around and down between their melded bodies, easing her clear of him just enough to enable him to find her center and gently spread her folds with his fingers. His other hand shifted to spread itself against the small of her back, pressing down firmly. The motion rubbed the swollen heart of her desire hard against his pelvis in a soft rocking that made her writhe suddenly against him, her cry dissolving in a gasp of breath as he pushed down again. Combined with the stroking of his fingers deep within her, the attention was maddening, heightening her arousal to a new pitch and she cried out softly, over and over, desperate pleading words that urged him not to stop.

Clark watched her face as he continued to please her with his fingers, fascinated, as he always was, by the flickering play of emotions crossing her face as her arousal deepened, enthralled by how beautiful she was in the midst of passion, in the midst of her ecstasy.

Lois' soft mewling cries for breath grew sharper and more rhythmic, in tune with the soft, thrusting motions of his fingers within her. The fire surging through her veins ignited in a burst of red-hot heat and light, dazzling her and dizzying her all at once as she was engulfed in its brilliance. Its backwash flooded over her in another moment and she threw back her head, her eyes opening wide as shudder after violent shudder rocked her.

Finally, she lay limp in his grip and he drew her down against him gently, settling his arms around her and holding her close. She sighed into his mouth as he brought his lips down on hers, a soft hiccup of breath, closing her eyes and then opening them to gaze into the darkening desire that flickered like molten fire in his own.

Clark lifted gently from the sofa, floating slowly upward until they were hovering just above its surface and then eased her into the cradle of his arms, settling her against his chest as he turned. Secure and trusting as a child, Lois snuggled her head into the hollow of his shoulder as he lowered her to the sofa beside him as though she were made of finest porcelain.

Silence settled warmly on them. In the corner of the dimly light room the TV buzzed and hissed quietly to itself. The video had played on in its own silence until the tape had automatically rewound, switching of the VCR and leaving only a haze of brightly flickering snow. Clark thought about searching for the remote and then directed a sharp breath at the TV instead, nudging the control button to a firm off.

He tightened his embrace around the soft curves of his wife, letting her scent surround him and then glanced down at the top of her head, all that he could view from his position.

"Lois?" he ventured.

"Hmphmmm?"

"Thank you. For tonight I mean." He stroked a finger against her cheek.

"Mmmphmmm."

He smiled. He let his cheek rest against the silken fall of her hair. The knuckles of one hand stroked across the underside of one breast, a gentle caress meant less to enflame now than to soothe as he listened to her heartbeat stutter and trickle down to a slow, barely audible murmur and let his own drift with it as he closed his eyes and followed her into sleep.