WET 'N' WILD

Clark gave the door a second, heftier, push and grimaced as it failed to budge. He stood for a moment, eyeing the annoying green-painted slab of wood and reinforced steel. It was beginning to seriously tick him off.

It wasn't as though he couldn't break the lock. That would have been the work of a moment. No, his dilemma was more in the line of his super-powered conscience trying to work its way around how he could justify vandalizing Metropolis City Council property. After all, it wasn't as though he or Lois were in any danger. They were just looking to get home to some later than expected dinner and perhaps a little snuggling on the sofa, before they got down the take on their story. And the Council weren't villains on the grand scale of, say, Lex Luthor. Or The Prankster even. Some guys deserved having their locks broken. It was almost a superhero's civic duty to ensure it. But the Council didn't quite fall into that category. Neither did the good, tax-paying citizens of Metropolis, who would be the ones picking up the repair bill. A situation that Clark couldn't help but think was just a tad unfair.

He pushed tentatively at the door again, fighting down the small, prickling voice in his head which suggested he was only doing so in the hope that he might just *accidentally* misjudge, push just a smidgen too hard, and thereby solve the problem by default. The door gave slightly under his testing fingers. The lock squealed a protest. Clark took back his hand guiltily and then glared at the offending barrier. If he had been any other man, he might have vented his irritation by delivering a swift kick to its bland, mocking, green-painted surface. As it was, he seriously considered yelling for Lois to come do the job for him.

Lois. He scowled with the reminder.

"Course we won't get locked in, Clark," he muttered sardonically under his breath, mocking a high falsetto. "Don't be such a worry-wart!"

"I heard that!" his wife's voice drifted back to him, with that peculiar echo hanging beneath the words that only being close to a large body of enclosed water produced.

Clark directed a dark look across one shoulder, wondering just who it was in this partnership that was supposed to have the super-hearing, and then sighed.

He gave the stubborn door one last, reflective glance and then turned to make his way back through the deserted locker rooms. Taking a detour through the shower area, he stepped out into the glass-roofed atrium and onto the slick, tiled surface surrounding the Olympic sized pool.

With the closing of the sports complex for the evening, the overhead lights had been switched off somewhere in the bowels of the building. The atrium was a dimly shadowed cavern in its abandonment, only the pool itself, illuminated by rows of underwater spot lighting which marked out its lengths, showing clearly in the darkness. The water, still and sluggish, reflected patterns of low, moving green light on the upper walls and on the frame that surrounded the great oval bowl of glass that formed its ceiling. It was a cloudless, mostly moonless night and the black, velvet canopy of the sky overhead was a jeweler's casket as it pressed against the glass like an unwelcome eavesdropper, its surface scattered with a thousand, diamond pinpricks of light. It was a magical combination of man-made and heaven sent glory that turned the cold sterility of the public pool by day into a mysterious fairy grotto by night.

Clark stood, admiring the view for another moment, and then glanced around him. "Lois?" he whispered, with that instinctive lowering of tone that such large spaces produced reflexively in the psyche. He had no real need to worry about being overheard. The complex had been deserted for hours now; even the cleaning staff had gone home. He was acutely aware that he and Lois were entirely alone in the building. *Trapped* in the building, his other self reminded him. By a ten dollar lock from a local hardware store. Boy, Superman *really* lucked out there, huh?

Clark banished the sardonic inner voice with a scowl and was just about to intensify his search for Lois - where *had* she vanished to? Didn't she know they had to get started on finding another way out of this place? They *had* all their evidence, what was she prowling around for now? - when a faint sound drew his attention to the far end of the pool.

He turned his head to where the stand of chrome mounted diving boards stood sentinel over the water and was just in time to see a slim figure walk its way out onto the very tip of the very tallest platform. At that moment one of the very few clouds overhead chose to drift across the glass, blocking his view, and before he could think to augment his vision, the figure had raised its arms above its head in classic, graceful pose, bounced up briefly onto its toes in a short, testing hop, and then lifted into the air to dive smoothly in a high, curving arc. It entered the depths of the pool below with the faintest of ripples to mark its entry.

Clark followed the sleek glide of the figure way below the surface of the water as it rose to breach its way into air and began stroking its way strongly and lazily to the other side of the pool. As he turned slightly to track its progress, something brushed against his foot. He looked down and then crouched briefly to pick up a piece of the dark clothing heaped carelessly on the tiles. He pursed his lips. What he was holding looked suspiciously like cream lace panties to him. Looked like he hadn't been imagining things after all. That mysterious, cloud-cloaked, pale and gleaming bather had indeed been the very naked figure of his wife. He lifted his head, dropping the offending garment back as he rose to his feet again.

"Lo - " the question trailed abruptly, cut off in a choked swallow as Lois reached the pool's end and executed a perfect tumble and turn in the water, kicking off strongly against the wall before stroking out cleanly back the way she'd come. The maneuver granted her husband a brief, intriguing glimpse of pale, rounded buttocks rising out of the water, her flesh gleaming tantalizingly under the dim starlight, before she vanished beneath the surface again.

Coming level with him, Lois whooped softly as she found her feet and raised her arms to draw her hands up along her face, clearing her eyes. She pushed them further, through the hair slicked darkly to her head, and then stretched them for the ceiling before bringing them down in a straight-armed arc to splash lightly against the surface of the water. She looked up at her husband with a wide, happy grin.

"Isn't this just great?" she exclaimed, glancing around her.

Clark refused to be lured by her child-like exuberance, cute though it was and tug at his heart as it did. Instead, he pushed his hands into the deep pockets of his sweatpants and looked down on his wife with a frown.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Taking a midnight swim," she said and then, as though considering this a reasonable enough answer, rolled in the water, sleek as an otter as she luxuriated in the roiling, liquid cushion supporting her. She settled onto her back, bobbing slightly, the pale curves of her breasts lapped at by the water and dusted by starlight as she tucked her hands behind her head with a sigh. She stared up into the shifting patterns of light above her.

"Is this like flying, Clark?" she murmured, just as he was about to start again and distracting him entirely with the startling, unexpected question. "It almost feels like flying. Nothing beneath you......" She trailed an arm through the water in a slow arc, back and forth. "......soft, invisible fingers supporting you......" She raised a leg, stretching it out straight and pointing her toes at the expanse of glass overhead before bending it at the knee with a dancer's grace, reminding Clark abruptly of one of those synchronized swimmers he'd seen on TV during the last Olympics. Course none of *them* had been naked.

"......floating......with nothing but the stars above you......" Lois closed her eyes, arms moving in small circles, just enough to keep her afloat, and lost in her own fantasy now. "......drifting......"

"I guess so," Clark answered her absently. He followed the smooth curves of her leg as she stretched and tucked it a few more times before letting it slide beneath the surface again. "A little. Maybe."

His eyes traveled, pausing momentarily on the beckoning, glistening lure of the damp, dark and mysterious triangle of hair hugging the juncture between her thighs, before wandering over the slightly rounded swell of her belly, the flaring angles of her hips, a narrow waist he could all but span with both hands, the upward thrust of pert breasts......

He shook his head, frown deepening. This was no time to get sidetracked. He opened his mouth to remind her that they really *had* to find another way out of the complex, now that her 'completely reliable' source - a diligent and civic minded employee - had failed to come through for them and leave the locker room door unlocked as she'd promised Lois faithfully she would.

Instead, he heard himself say distractedly, "It's only eleven forty-five," as his naturally pedantic mind rolled over what she'd said.

Lois opened her eyes and gave him a sideways glance that was heavy with accusing disappointment at his failure to tap into her mood. "Clark, since when did you read a romance novel where the heroine went for an eleven forty-five swim? You know clocks are the bane of romance. That's why they always set these things back in the olden days, when no one bothered too much with them. You can't have eleven forty-five and romance in the same sentence. It just doesn't work. You need midnight. You need - " she floundered for a moment.

" - passion?" Clark provided.

"Starlight," she corrected, waving a vague hand in the direction of the ceiling.

"Rhythm......?"

"Music......" she supplied with a grin, seeing where he was heading. "My man......"

"Who could ask for anything more?" he agreed with a flourish and then, mentally pushing Ira Gershwin to one side, shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't know. I don't read that kind of thing."

Lois flushed slightly under the - completely correct - insinuation that she did, and returned the conversation to a slightly safer subject than her 'secret' fascination with bodice-rippers of the tackiest variety. "Well, anyway, it's as close to flying as I'll ever get. I just want to enjoy it some."

Clark frowned again. "I take you flying," he said in response to the slightly wistful note in his wife's voice. "Anytime you want."

She smiled. "I know. But it's not the same is it? As being there yourself."

He paused. "I suppose not." He tilted his head to view her questioningly. "Don't you remember what it was like? I mean when you......you know......had my powers? When you were Ultra Woman?" he added, awkwardly. It was still a painful subject, a time he didn't really like to recall. Losing his powers had been frightening enough and that Lois had been put in danger because of it, more than he could bear to think on, even now.

Lois, who had no real emotional hangover from her brief experience as a superhero, shrugged as she considered the question. Clark faded out momentarily as his attention was caught by what that slight hitch of her shoulders did to the water lapping at her curves and he blinked a little before he focused, with a strength of will he hadn't known he possessed, on her next words.

"Yes......no......" She shook her head. "A little, maybe. But it's, oh I don't know, like a dream. You know? Hard to imagine clearly anymore. I remember how it felt. It just doesn't seem all that real. Not now."

She looked to him for confirmation and he nodded slightly to show he understood. Then he said slyly, "There are *other* ways to fly though."

Lois glanced at him again and her eyes warmed, catching his meaning in the dark glow of his gaze on her body. "Really......?" she murmured. "And those would be?"

"Hard to describe," Clark confided smoothly. "It's really one of those things you'd have to......experience. That you'd have to......show a......person." He waggled his eyebrows at her brazenly. "Hands on." He held out said hands, fingers curved into claws as though cupping something between them, and flexed them at her suggestively. He grinned evilly at her. "Why don't you come up here and I'll show you?"

Lois stifled a giggle at this Machiavellian enticement and shook her head, looking away. She was in no rush - and, besides, she was in provocative mood, deliciously aware that long, dark hours stretched between them and any interruptions. A boon that the complexity of their lives rarely afforded them. It was an unexpected gift that she was prepared to savor to the full. She made a mental note to reward her source, who, it seemed, had come through for her somewhat more spectacularly than she'd expected she would.

"Have you noticed that they *always* have to tell you that they have an Olympic sized pool?" she said conversationally as her eyes caught a brightly colored wall poster blaring just that exciting information. "I mean, what's the point? So long as you can swim in it, who cares how big it is?"

"Huh?" Clark tore his eyes away from where he'd been watching mesmerized as she kept herself afloat by the simple expedient of gently spreading and closing her legs. Lois glanced at him and he shrugged, grinning. "Well, you know what they say - size matters," he said, proving that his mind was still firmly focused on just one thing.

Lois rolled her eyes and stroked out another length or so before coming to a halt again. She bobbed in the water, arms making small circles. Clark looked around him and then back at her, shaking off the vaguely lascivious thoughts that had begun to settle in his mind as he'd watched her naked curves slice cleanly through the clear water. He dragged himself firmly onto more immediate matters, thrusting the deep, roiling pressure that was forming in the pit of his belly and the sudden bulge growing between his legs to the edges of his attention.

<......thrusting......

He was suddenly glad of the extra comfort zone that his earlier decision to wear sweatpants over jeans was now affording him. He cleared his throat roughly and heard himself say firmly, "Lois, we really should start looking for another way out of here." He ignored the clear, regretful note to the reminder and the faint, disgruntled mutters from that inner voice which was wishing he hadn't brought it up at all.

Lois frowned. She trailed her fingers studiously along the surface of the water, intent on their motions and on the ripples they produced. "Why?"

"Well, because - "

"I mean, it's not as though anyone's going to come back any time soon." She darted a small glance at him and then eased herself back into the water in a gentle, forward lunge, using a butterfly stroke to propel her delicately toward him.

"And we have all the evidence we need to prove that Millie was right about Superintendent Barton hiving off those Council grants and switching priority in membership to family members rather than the Disadvantaged Groups they were intended for."

She reached the edge of the pool and folded her arms against the ledge at his feet. "And......well, haven't you ever just wanted to swim in a pool when it's quiet like this? All alone? With no one to disturb you?" She looked up at him through damp, impossibly long lashes. "Without any adolescent Neanderthals splashing water at you." She glanced down again, one finger reaching out to trace a slow path against the side of his scuffed trainers. "Or snot-nosed kids screaming all over the place and their mothers yelling at them not to go into the deep end or they'll drown, which, to be honest, I really wouldn't care about, when all I want is some peace and -- "

"Lois - " Clark crouched down at the pool's edge and hitched a hand under her chin, stopping her babbling cold as he tipped it upward. He smiled at the faintly pleading look in her eyes and ducked his head to kiss her, tasting the chemical tang of chlorine as she responded reflexively to the caress, her lips parting beneath his to grant him access to the moist cavity beyond. She pressed down against the ledge, raising her body out of the water slightly to reach him all the better. He explored her gently for a moment or two and then raised his head again. His eyes studied her face and he reached to draw one long finger along the line of her jaw, capturing the drops of water clinging to her skin. From his vantage point, he had a pretty spectacular view. His glance journeyed downward for a moment, appreciating it to the full, and then came back to her face.

"I don't think I've ever been splashed by adolescent Neanderthals," he confided with a grin.

Lois sighed deeply. "Why doesn't this surprise me? So......?" She brought her knees up sharply and kicked herself clear of the edge in a burst of furious spray and choppy water. A move that propelled her almost to the center of the pool. She held out a hand. "Join me?"

Clark looked doubtful again and her expression suddenly underwent a sea-change. "Superman *can* swim, can't he?" she said, as though this startling idea had only just occurred to her.

"Course Superman - *I* can," he said, sounding almost offended by the suggestion.

Lois gave him a long, considering glance. "Hah!" she said, hitching onto her back and stroking lazily away from him again.

Clark raised a brow. "Excuse me?"

"You heard."

"That sounded suspiciously like a challenge, Miss Lane."

"Didn't it though?"

The merest flicker of irritation crossed his face as he rose to his feet. "Come on, Lois, you *know* I can swim. You've *seen* me swim."

"Have I? Gee, can't say that I really recall......"

"What about......that time I saved you from that tsunami?"

"That wasn't swimming. That was......" Lois struggled for a moment and then, looking pleased with herself, finished, "......underwater digging!"

He folded his arms. "The time I rescued you from that oil drum after those hired goons from Viologic threw you and Stuart Hofferman into the bay?"

"I was *in* the oil drum, remember? Couldn't see a thing."

"Yeah, and you'd *still* be in the oil drum, if I couldn't swim deep enough to get you out!"

"I'd have gotten myself out. I just needed time to......regroup."

"Yeah, right. That's why you were yelling 'Help, Superman!' at the top of your lungs."

"Stop changing the subject."

"The *subject's* too ridiculous to waste time discussing."

"So......you're saying you *can* swim?"

"Got it in one."

"Yeah? Prove it."

"Lo-is......"

Ignoring that exasperated voicing of her name, she eased her way slowly into the water with an air of having given her final word on the subject, until it submerged her completely, and then stroked out lazily for the opposite wall. Underwater, her body was sleek and glowing, shimmering with patterns of light. Her shadow followed her closely, thrown onto the clean tiled bottom by the underwater lighting.

Her husband's eyes followed her progress and it suddenly occurred to him that there were serious disadvantages to holding out in this argument. He didn't need to *prove* anything, he told himself stubbornly. But then, surveying the world from the heights of *that* particular lofty high horse kept *him* firmly standing on the pool's edge and *her* still tantalizingly out of reach as she rolled and sported delightfully in the water, tempting him with glimpses of water-beaded flesh.

"To hell with being right," he muttered. <Just this once......

<......yeah, and the million and one *other* times you've let her get the last word...... his snide inner voice reminded him.

Clark didn't care about that either. Being married to Lois had taught him that there were delightfully intriguing compensations to letting her think she'd won an argument. Especially when winning wasn't that important to him.

In another instant, he'd eased himself to sit on the tiled edge of the pool and was removing trainers and sports socks. He turned to put them safely out of harm's way, feeling the water coolly caress his ankles as his feet dangled just beneath the surface. He reached to grip the bottom of his tshirt with both hands, tugging it upward - and then a treacherous hand rose to clasp itself around his ankle and tugged him unceremoniously into the pool.

He heard her coming of course. But he let her do it anyway.

He even made a show of splashing frantically around in a disorientated manner until he righted himself, hearing her receding giggle as she dived away from him. Letting his feet touch bottom after what he judged a suitable period of helpless thrashing around, he whirled in a circle and found her standing decorously in the far corner of the pool. Her arms were hitched nonchalantly against the tiled surface above and her back planted firm into the slick ramparts behind her. She licked her lips as his eyes fell on her and wriggled her way deeper into her makeshift bunker.

Clark's eyes glittered, responding to the cat-heavy gleam of challenge in her brown, innocently doe-eyed gaze.

"Ohh-kaaay......"

He renewed his hold on the hem of his now sodden tshirt and tugged it over his head between one pace and the next as he advanced on her in a water sluggish march.

Lois wished that those long drawn out syllables hadn't sounded quite so much like a threat as she watched him stalk her. She swallowed hard, her heart beginning a stuttering race against the wall of her chest as her confidence deserted her. Clark grinned wolfishly at her and she frowned, regretting - and not for the first time - that she was married to a man who could judge her slightest shift of mood from just the smallest breath, or change in heat, or rising pulse. It was damned inconvenient. More than that, it seemed awfully like cheating to her.

She had suggested as much on numerous other occasions when he'd unfairly, and quite abominably to her mind, used his super-advantages to overcome her in a fight. She recalled now with a scowl that he'd refused to give it up either, maintaining that when he was engaged in battle with Lois Lane he needed every advantage he could get, just to keep the playing field even.

Clark stopped, just a few yards distant from her now, wadded the tshirt into a ball, tossed it in a high arc to land with a soggy plop against the tiles, and then turned his attention to tugging at the drawstring of his sweatpants. The water-swollen knot resisted him and, with an impatient grunt, he simply snapped the cord before shimmying pants and briefs clear of him and sending them to follow the shirt. He turned his head to watch them land and then swung it dangerously back in the direction of his wife.

Lois' eyes widened a fraction, but she stood her ground. He was quick to note that her fingers tightened against the tiles though. Her breasts flattened slightly, as her shoulder muscles grew taut. A soft shudder ran through her as the slow burn deep in his eyes impaled her and she watched his naked, muscular figure breech through the water towards her, a softly rising bow-wave advancing before him.

Something else was advancing before him too, jutting proud and firm like a standard raised before battle. Lois darted a quick glance downwards and then jerked her gaze back up, sure that this was exactly the reaction he was looking for and refusing to be distracted.

The glow in his eyes darkened as they traveled her body in a slow, lecherous once over and then came back to her face.

"Now, Clark......" Lois offered waveringly, tone placating, and then squeaked, making a break to her left as he took a lunge for her. She stopped an instant later, wobbling unsteadily and recovering balance, as she realized it had simply been a testing feint. Chagrined to have fallen so easily for it, she glared at him as he grinned at her from his position holding steady, barely an arm's length away.

"Scared ya - right?"

"Did not!" Lois retorted and then regretted it as she heard her voice emerge in a quaver several notches higher than its usual pitch. She scowled as his grin widened knowingly.

"No?" He tilted his head to one side, consideringly. "Guess I'm gonna have to try harder then, huh?"

He started prowling for her again.

Her nerve broke before he'd moved more than a couple of paces for her. She surged to one side in a hopeless attempt to evade capture, legs and arms thrashing wildly against the treacle-thick pull of the water as it malevolently dragged her down.

Clark's second lunge for her was no trick. He caught her before she got more than a few, flustered strokes clear of him, one arm snagging her carelessly around the waist to jerk her from her feet and back against his chest.

Lois' shrieks echoed around the tiled cavern as he used the momentum of that lunge to spin them both around in one smooth motion, and then dissolved in a choked scream as they plunged beneath the water in a furious burst of froth and spray. Their entwined bodies rolled and twisted toward the tiled floor of the pool as he hauled her tight against him and captured her lips with his own. His hands rose to frame her face, pinning her against his savagely roaming mouth and tongue, relying on the legs wrapped around her thighs to hold her captive against him.

Lois found herself being propelled helplessly through a solid wall of water, imprisoned firmly against a large, muscular frame. She had a brief, flashing image of a long ago summer's day when, as a junior reporter, Perry had figured it would be fun to send her to Metropolis Water World to report on the newest attraction. She had ended up being hauled in the wake of Kimo the Killer Whale in what she had been assured would be exactly the 'hands on' experience Perry would be expecting and the sensation hadn't been altogether dissimilar to what she was experiencing now. Except that Kimo hadn't, at any point, shown as much interest in giving her a mean hickey as her husband currently was.

Killer whales? Mean hickeys? Another image flashed into life behind the closed screen of her eyes - a cartoon rendition of the undoubtedly impressive Kimo puckering up and waving a sleek black and white fin at her in invitation. Sharp teeth glinted as he winked at her. Lois shook her head against Clark's grip and decided she was suffering from air depravation - either that or the exploratory hands and mouth her husband was using on her were driving her crazy. She didn't really know whether it was lack of air or the roving pressure of his lips as they devoured hers fiercely, but she was feeling just a little dizzy and disorientated when he finally allowed them to emerge, bringing them to the surface with a single, upward stroke that left Lois clinging limply to him, sobbing harshly for breath and suspended a good few feet closer to the glass vaulted ceiling than the water below.

Her husband held her with him by the simple netting of his fingers against the small of her back and went back to exploring every inch of her that he could reach with his lips as she tried to find some semblance of clear wits again. He seemed entirely unperturbed by the fact that he had just about almost drowned her, Lois thought, petulantly, as she continued to gasp for breath.

Finally, the crushing tightness in her chest eased and she found the strength to raise her head from where it had been resting against his shoulder.

"That wasn't fair, Cla -- " she started and then squealed again as she found herself falling the couple of feet downward to hit the water below with a resounding splash, arms and legs flailing wildly.

Spluttering, she emerged in a tangle of threshing limbs. She glanced around her wildly and then looked up at the grinning figure hovering just shy of the surface of the water.

"What was *that* for?!" she yelled.

He hitched his shoulders and tightened the arms folded across his chest. "You said you wanted a midnight swim. And its now......" he paused as though considering, "......oh, just about two seconds after. Didn't want you to miss out any."

Lois wasn't listening. Folded arms? Her following retort choked off in her throat as she realized he was wearing the Suit. Her eyes widened as the implications of that change became clear. If he was bringing Superman in against her ---

"Oh no! Oh no, you don't!" She stabbed a shaking finger up at him. "You stay away from me, you hear me? You just - "

"Lois!" He clutched his hands, double clasped, to his chest, feigning sudden pain. "How can you reject me like this? After all we've meant to each other!"

"I mean it!" She darted a frantic glance around her, seeking an escape route, and backed up a couple of unsteady paces. "You just keep away, you......you......overgrown Boy Scout!"

He paused, one eyebrow rising sharply. "Boy Scout, Lois?" He shook his head reprovingly and she didn't miss the sudden, wicked gleam that bloomed in his eyes. "I don't *think* so......"

The soft, drawling denial sent shivers down Lois' spine. The following change that took over his face was swift and licentious, heralding his next move, and Lois, warned, made a dive for the stairs to her right. To no avail. She screeched as a blue and red blur dive-bombed her, her husband's arms encircling her waist, yanking her grip clear of her chrome lifeline, and hauling her back down into the water with him for a second time.

He ignored her furious struggles as she kicked and writhed and beat at him with her fists, a virulent, venomous tide of foul oaths spewing from her lips.

"Would a Boy Scout do this?" his voice murmured teasingly into her ear.

Lois gasped as his hands wandered lazily over her curves. "No......stop it......you can't......dammit, you can't *do* this!" she wailed a protest as his touch probed its way down between her legs and found the deep cleft that guarded her core.

"Do what?" he breathed innocently against her ear as his fingers explored her intimately, making her writhe against him for completely different reasons now. "Make love to my wife?"

"No......you can't......oh, god......" She made a valiant attempt to break free of him and, to her surprise, succeeded. She realized to her consternation that he'd let her a moment later, when she spun around and backed her way up against the tiles behind her, only to find him making no attempt to recapture her. He favored her with a feral grin that made her knees abruptly weaken.

"Clark, please -- "

She got no further with the plea as he swooped at her again with all the enthusiasm of a cat pouncing on a really choice mouse, pressing her up against the tiled wall as he kissed her thoroughly. He took his time. At last, he lifted his head. Lois, wide-eyed and trembling, looked up on him dazedly as he stroked a hand through her dripping hair.

"You know you were right - this midnight swim stuff is fun!" Clark declared with another grin. "Uh - " she panted harshly.

His lips took hold on her again, drowning out another long tick of moments.

"Oh, god......" Lois moaned when he released her a second time.

"Nope. Just your average superhero," Clark corrected. "Although," he added consideringly as he nuzzled a path along her jaw and nibbled at her ear, "there was this tribe once in this remote mountain region in Mongolia, I discovered, who decided I was at least a reincarnation of one of their lesser -- "

"Clark?"

"Yes, Lois?"

"Shut up."

She grabbed his head between her hands, enforcing the demand as she tugged him back down and fastened her lips against his, returning his ardor stroke for stroke as her tongue forced its way into his mouth and ravaged it ferociously. Clark didn't seem to mind. His fingers were buried deep inside her again, heating her by degrees as they vigorously probed and stroked her inner folds, swirling cool, soothing water between them and into the burning heart of her passion. Lois began to gasp for air against his lips, as the rushing beat of her heart became thunderous in her ears.

After a time, as though coming to the mutual conclusion that events were moving too fast, their kisses became more languid, less forceful, their explorations losing their previous frantic edge and turning gentle and unhurried. Clark's touch slipped from her and brushed softly against her inner thigh, a soothing caress calculated to ease her down further. Lois' warm breath filled his mouth with its sweet, salt taste, calming from its earlier rapid hitch and stutter.

Continuing to kiss her languorously, Clark lifted gently into the air. He added in a showy, slow revolve as they came level with the pool's edge and heard Lois sigh as he lowered her gently to the ground.

Lois opened her eyes as she found herself laid down onto a blanket of warm, voluminous fabric that still held his scent buried deep in its silken folds. She had expected the cool surface of the tiled floor and looked up at him in surprise as she realized she was laying on the red expanse of his cape, which he had, somehow, managed to unhook and spread out beneath her, all without breaking the caress of his lips on hers or stopping the slow, explorations of his hands across her curves. Or, at least, without her becoming aware that he had.

He grinned down at her. "My Mom's a firm believer in the liberal use of Scotchguard," he said, misinterpreting the question in her eyes. "The amazing thing is that it works. It really keeps out the water. She started using it on my capes after that tanker rescue - the first week after I - we - " he smiled slightly, "created Superman. You know the one. You got the front page. She said it wasn't going to do my image any good if every time I had to rescue someone in water I came out of it looking like a drowned super-rat. It doesn't matter so much on the Suit itself because, well you know," he glanced down at himself momentarily, looking somewhat embarrassed, "it fits kinda *tight*, dry *or* wet, but the cape tends to look a little unimpressive if it's water-logged and sloshing around my knees."

"Oh," Lois said. She sat up, pulling her knees up against her chest and dragging the edges of the cape around her nakedness, enjoying the erotic feel of its silken fabric skimming across her bare skin. She hugged herself, running her shrouded hands up and down her arms seductively. She closed her eyes a moment, breathing in deeply of his clean, citrus scent as it rose warmly around her and then frowned, as she remembered her earlier puzzlement.

"How did you - ?" she paused to collect her thoughts and he quirked a brow at her, questioningly.

"I mean, you were......kissing me and......touching me. How did you get this off while you were touching me?" she asked, confused.

"Oh, that." He chuckled. "Just one of my many talents," he said modestly and then, his tone dropping softly, "Why don't I show you some of the others?"

Something flickered in Lois' eyes, as though she was suddenly dragging herself back to some half-forgotten purpose that his words had recalled in her, but he was oblivious to it as he spun out of the Suit.

It was no more than a couple of seconds' grace. But that was enough. Clark's spin rotated to a halt and his smile faltered as he found himself staring at a crumpled swathe of red fabric, pooled against the tiles and entirely devoid of its previous occupant.

He barely had time to consider this development, understand its implications, or to note the rapid drumbeat of a stealthy heart at his shoulder, before he was hit in the back by the weight of his wife's naked body as she leapt on him with all the ferocity of a small, spitting cat.

"Hah!" she yelled in his left ear, a triumphant shriek that would surely have deafened any normal man, as she wrapped her legs around his chest and her arms around his neck, crushing him with both. That this was an entirely reckless move, doomed to failure as surely as the sun rises in the east, seemed to make no difference to her as she clawed and bit at him, spitting kamikaze insults all the while. Clark stood immobile under this assault for a moment, completely bemused, and then put an end to it by the simple tactic of rolling his left shoulder, tossing her over his neck and dumping her in a heap at his feet.

She hit in a boneless, fluid Tae Kwon Do roll as he'd suspected she would and came up fighting. Or at least made a valiant attempt at it. She made it halfway before he pounced on her, knocking her flat again and pinning her beneath his lithe weight. Which was considerably more immobilizing than her own had been.

"Hah, yourself," he said with a broad, conquering grin as he looked down into her flushed face and abashed eyes. Lois glared at him and tried to heave him off of her with a sinuous snaking of her hips. He rode out the movement easily and, anticipating further mutiny, reached to grip her upper arms, effectively pinning them at her sides before she could strike out at him. He used that grasp to lever himself upward, resting his weight against his hands. Looming over her, he chuckled at her stymied expression and then dipped his head to explore the curves of her throat, his tongue searching out and lapping at its hollows.

After a moment or two, he slowly became aware of his wife's complete lack of response to his attentions. He lifted his head, a small frown puckering his forehead. "Lois?"

She was silent, still, her body laying rigid beneath his own, her hands clenched into tight fists where his light grip held them against her thighs, refusing him the satisfaction of pleasuring her. Her eyes were the only live thing about her - hot and fierce......and definitely unimpressed.

Under the weight of their unwavering stare, Clark withdrew further, disconcerted and confused by her rejection. This was something he'd never encountered in her before. She'd been angry with him, yes. He'd seen her irritated, aggravated, and just plain downright mad enough to spit, but he'd never experienced anything remotely like this total withdrawal.

"Lois?" he tried again, uncertainly. "Honey, what's wrong?"

No response. He tried placing a tentative kiss against the curve of one breast. Her skin quivered faintly under the pressure of his lips, but otherwise it produced not a flicker in the pale form laying like a wax statue beneath him. The message was painfully clear. He may be able to entice her body into wild, adoring appreciation of his pleasuring, but that was as much of his wife as he was going to get. Her heart, her soul, her enthusiasm and her will were definitely *not* going to be part of the package.

He raised his head to glance at her face again, worried now. His hand was moving fitfully against her ribs and, becoming aware of it, he drew it clear of her skin, feeling suddenly awkward in touching her, as he'd never been before. "Lois, please -- "

She moved, fast and sudden enough to genuinely startle him, his roiling emotions leaving him off balance and without time to second-guess her as he normally could. He found himself pinned, her supple weight straddling him. This time though she'd found herself an anchor that made it impossible for him to dislodge her. Clark's head fell back, his eyes fluttering closed as a deep groan emerged from his throat. Lois smiled dangerously and squeezed more firmly with the fingers wrapped around his straining length.

"Gotcha," she gloated gleefully.

"Lois - " his faint plea cut off sharply, exploding in a hiss of breath as she tugged sharply upward. "Oh, god......honey, you keep on doing that I'm going to die......" he protested weakly, flopping bonelessly onto his back, and then moaned again as she squeezed her way up along the ridge of his erection to its suddenly fluid moistened tip. She rolled her palm across and over the baby-soft head, coating it with his moisture and spreading it slickly down his length as she let her fingers return to its base.

He lay, breathing harshly, and then opened his eyes as he realized she'd paused in her assault. He swallowed, hearing the dry click in his throat as he looked up into the hard glitter in her eyes. The fingers gripped around his length seemed poised. Waiting. She cocked her head appraisingly to one side. For some reason, the gesture invoked the wildly incongruous image in his mind of the Alien Queen warning a defiant and flame thrower toting Sigourney Weaver that she was stepping into definite trouble if she so much as twitched a move towards those eggs. There was undoubtedly the same frisson of threat in the air.

Clark's eyes darted down to the heart of that threat and then came back to watch his wife warily. Silence settled between them as he slowly considered that he might just dissolve in a puddle of cold sweat.

"I take it I have your full attention?" Lois said at last.

"Absolutely," he agreed hoarsely after a moment in which he failed to get the breath to answer her at all.

"Good. Now, listen up, Farmboy. Teasing a person like that just because you're stronger than they are isn't fun. It isn't fair."

He opened his mouth. "But *you* started - "

Her fingers twitched. He closed his mouth firmly, his protest prudently curtailed. Lois nodded approval.

"Now, *I'm* the one in control. Understand?" The fierce gleam in her eyes brightened and Clark thought it wise to nod an eager agreement. "*I'm* going to play a little game. And *you're* going to do just exactly like I say. Right?"

He nodded again, slightly more quickly this time as the fingers of her other hand joined the first, entwining their way around his throbbing arousal and slipping down to momentarily enclose the tightly swollen sacs at its base. His wife leant forward, her next words delivered in a threatening, silken whisper. "The worm has turned!"

Clark swallowed again, watching her wide-eyed. Alien Queens? Try Godzilla!

"Now," Lois settled back thoughtfully on her heels, her knees nudging up against his thighs. Her fingers played delicately along his swollen shaft as she considered. Clark bit down on a soft groan. "Rules. Simple rules. We wouldn't want you getting confused and breaking them by accident, would we?" Clark winced as her fingers tightened again, perhaps emphasizing that more than rules could be accidentally broken if he misbehaved.

He shook his head. Lois smiled and it wasn't friendly. "That's right!" she congratulated him. "Okay, listen close, Boy Scout."

She moved one hand to cover his, literally maintaining her upperhand with the other. Taking hold of his fingers, she moved the hand onto her left hip. Then, with some careful maneuvering, she repeated the procedure with his other hand, placing it on her right. She leant close again, her eyes fixed on his. "You move more than a twitch, you take your hands away from there, and you will *never* *ever* touch me again. Not so long as we both live. Is that understood?"

Clark stared at her. On the face of it, the threat was laughable. But there was something buried just beneath the surface of those deep, adorable eyes glittering into his that warned him not to let even the merest suspicion of a hint about testing her on it cross his mind. A small grin twitched at the corner of his lips and then vanished abruptly as he felt a low tug at his already aching arousal. He caught his breath and then acquiesced with a short nod. Besides, he was curious to see what she had in mind.

"Good boy," Lois purred. She removed her hand from him, cautiously. Clark stayed still and, more confidently now, she straightened to study him. She lifted a hand and placed it lightly against his smooth skin.

The greatest thing about teasing Lois unmercifully, Clark thought as he gave in to the firm pressure of his wife's hand against his shoulder and lay back against the tiles, was that she was always so diligent about taking her revenge. He closed his eyes. The coolness of the tiles against his back and buttocks contrasted deliciously with the heat of Lois' breath on his skin as she trailed her way delicately across his ribs and up along the hard, beautiful planes of his chest, bathing the warm, lightly burnished flesh with open-mouthed kisses and quick, darting motions of her tongue. She lapped at the rivulets of water still trailing their way across powerfully defined muscles.

Those muscles, hard as steel, clenched tight beneath her as she progressed ever upward and a deep, masculine sound of pleasure rumbled up through Clark's chest, his skin quivering, his body shuddering beneath her lips.

Lois felt a surge of heady triumph fill her, awed as ever by the knowledge that the most powerful man in the world lay helpless beneath her, his large, beautiful body trembling involuntarily at her slightest touch, his strength, his power, counting as nothing against her own. It was a slightly scaring thought, but also an inspiring one. She sat up and trailed her fingers across the taut, sculpted landscape of his chest, exploring further, smiling a little more as she heard another of those low growls grow in the back of his throat.

She could never get enough of touching him, of marveling at the firm skin, soft as velvet, smooth as satin, that covered such strength beneath its sheath. Clark's muscles bunched and flexed delightfully beneath her questing fingertips and she used the barest of touches on him as she drifted lower, her eyes intent on the path her hands were taking, mapping him out as though discovering uncharted territory, never before encountered. His stomach muscles twitched again as she drew her way daintily along his ribs and his head moved restlessly against the tiles, his large hands flexing in answering frustration where they lay against her hips.

Unable to bear his own inaction any longer under her sensual assault, his hands began to smooth their way, back and forth against her skin, moving up to clutch at her waist, another low moan breaking in his throat as her fingers dipped lower to skim the edge of the rough mat of curls between his thighs. His hands took a firm path across her hips and down to cup at her bottom. Lois stopped, lifting her hands from him, and he opened his eyes.

Disorientated, he simply stared at her for a moment, his eyes dark with pent up desire and need. "Huh......?" he said hoarsely at last as she quirked a brow at him and then, understanding his transgression and sounding contrite, "Oh......"

He returned his wandering hands obediently to her hips and she relented.

"Quick learner. I like that," she approved huskily, as she leant forward to brush her lips delicately against first one, then the other of his nipples. His back arched slightly in delicious imitation of her own responses to similar attentions from his mouth on her body and that small, wicked smile returned to flicker on her lips as she increased the pressure of her tongue against the hard little nubs of flesh, rewarding him for his surrender to her will. She paused as Clark stirred determinedly beneath her, almost dislodging her as he hauled himself awkwardly upward to lean against his elbows.

"Never said......I couldn't watch......" he told her, somewhat breathlessly as he settled back against their support.

Lois considered this for a moment and then judged it an acceptable infringement of her rules. She returned to her ministrations, hearing her husband's breath hiss out between clenched teeth as he watched the small, pink tip of her tongue swirl its way around his hard nipples. Lois moved her head, taking the left between her teeth. Released from the restrictions that were on him in similar circumstances, and having no fears that she could hurt him, she bit down with all the force she could muster and felt him gasp as his body jerked beneath her own.

"Aaahh......oh, god......Lois......"

His hands shifted fitfully to bury themselves in her hair, spreading against the back of her head to press her tight against his skin as she set to nibbling at the taut pebble in her mouth, raking her teeth along its surface and then returning to soothe its heated throbbing with lips and tongue. This time she didn't chastise him for the lapse. As though it had been a clarion call to her own body, his deep gasping cries of pleasure ignited a fire deep in her belly. Her teasing of him forgotten now, she squirmed against the lean, muscular body beneath her, stoking the fires of her own pleasure and desire as she rubbed the aching heart of that desire against his stomach and thighs.

She tore her mouth free of him, planting her hands desperately against his chest and levering herself upwards. Panting and gasping, she wriggled lower, her own moans rising in pitch and volume as she fumbled frantically beneath her. Finding what she was searching for almost at once, she wrapped her fingers around the length of his arousal as it strained towards her touch and tugged him free of his imprisonment between their bodies.

Clark yelped and produced a gasping plea, "Honey......!" and then, sensing her growing frustration and driven by his own swift rise towards losing control, he slid a hand down to take the thick length of his shaft into his own hand, helping her to position its tip at her entrance and guiding it into the slick heat of her depths.

Lois threw back her head, back arching deeply as she felt him impale her. A low groan of satisfaction issued from her throat as she looked down on her lover and met the glittering need in his eyes.

Yet, for a moment they were still, each content to simply savor the wonderful sensations spiraling upwards through their bodies from the point at which they were joined. A deep shudder flowed its way through Lois' body as she closed her eyes and a quick, answering twitch of the thickness stretching and filling her inner depths made her smile.

She opened her eyes and, at some unspoken agreement in his, began to move her hips in steady, sensuous circles, grinding herself down against the base of his erection, watching urgent desire flare in the eyes burning into her own. Clark's response was immediate. No longer able to maintain his own stillness, his hips moved of their own accord, rising to meet her increasingly frenzied motions and Lois cried out as she felt him stroke deeply into her.

She was trembling so fiercely that the locked muscles of her arms could no longer support her. Clark caught her as she began to fall, his hands wrapped around her upper arms and holding her firm. His eyes watched the shifting emotions flicker on her flushed face intently as his deep penetrations into her wet and welcoming core grew fiercer. He stroked into her firmly and smoothly, their motions a perfect synchronization in a primal, erotic dance that was timeless.

Heat and fire began to pulse steadily between her legs in counterpoint to the slick invasion of her body. It settled a deep warmth in the depths of her belly and she bit down savagely into her lower lip as it spiraled out and over her in a flooding backwash of incandescent light and warmth. That inferno possessed her, consumed her, spun her back and down into the raging firewall that burst around her and she heard her own voice emerge as a rising wail from the depths of the bright sunburst pulse of light that reached out to engulf her.

"Clark......! Oh, Clark......!"

Clark felt completion overtake her in the violent shuddering of her body around him. His own cries of pleasure echoed as he continued to thrust deeply into her, feeling the tight embrace of her inner muscles clench around him, tugging him irresistibly over the edge to join her. Her pulsing flesh gripped him like a satin glove, drawing him into oblivion and milking him as he felt himself expand unbearably and then fall into sweet release.

Dimly, Lois was aware of the hot flood of his essence filling her and she held on to the sensation, letting it draw her back from the brink. Far from being sated, Clark continued to thrust between her thighs, his motions residual and half-hearted as he was overtaken by the involuntary cravings of his body to fill her, to claim her as his, but quickly becoming more controlled again. He reached to wrap his arms around his wife's limp body, tugging her hard against his chest. His hand slipped to spread itself wide against the base of her spine, pressing her tightly to him as his quick strokes drove her up onto a second, rising plateau of pleasure and desire.

Lois whimpered softly and moved blindly and instinctively against him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face into the warm harbor of his shoulder. Her legs entwined themselves around his waist, as though trying desperately to meld their bodies even more firmly into one quivering, trembling being, striving for perfection and the ultimate completion.

Clinging together as though they were the last survivors of a storm, their bodies rocked in sweet, delightful harmony. Clark tightened his grip around the fragile, shivering woman buried against him and continued his quest to stroke her into pleasure, murmuring soothing, meaningless words against her skin until he felt her find fulfillment a second time. He darted small, warm caresses against the damp skin of her neck with his mouth as she came in a series of low shudders, gasping against his shoulder and crying out piteously, her fingers clutching at his back and raking invisible furrows in his skin. He followed quickly, his own pleasure drowning him in fire and heat.

Finally, when she subsided limply into his comforting embrace, he let himself float slightly, stretching out languorously on the supporting cushion of air. A wide, entirely satisfied grin spread across his handsome features. Lois barely stirred as he let her slip into sprawled abandon against his chest and stomach. Her legs hung limply on either side of his thighs, her arms still hung around his neck and her cheek rose and fell gently with his chest. Giving her a tender smile, he settled one hand possessively against the gently rolling curve of her left buttock - she was looking just a little precarious there after all and he needed *some* method of anchoring her. He brought up his other hand to stroke it lightly against the damp cloud of her hair and closed his eyes with a quiet sigh.

Lois, lost in the warm, blissful cocoon that was the aftermath of spent passion, joined him as she felt his hand mold itself warmly to the curve of her bottom. His touch sent a small thrill of aftershock rippling through her and she lifted her head, easing herself upward and letting her hands move to net themselves at the nape of his neck as she settled her lips against his.

"Oh, Clark......" she sighed into his mouth as his lips opened beneath the faint pressure to capture her own and explore them gently.

He smiled at the softly wondering note in that soughing of his name and stared up at her flushed face and luminous eyes with a quiet awe of his own as she raised herself again. She smiled gently down on him and shook her head slightly as he raised a hand to cup at her cheek.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" she murmured, pressing against the affectionate touch and rubbing her cheek slightly against his fingers.

Clark frowned at her. "You're not going to start serenading me with 'Something Good' again, are you?" he asked, mock horrified.

Lois giggled at this reminder of a recent evening spent snuggling on the sofa watching THE SOUND OF MUSIC and her enthusiastic joining in of the musical score before acting out some long held 'Von Trapp' fantasies with her husband. He had played the stern, forbidding Captain, desperately in need of some TLC rather well, she'd thought. Though she had considered that he'd given in to her tender persuasions rather too easily. He had, however, redeemed himself by rendering up a rather wicked and salacious rewrite of MY FAVORITE THINGS - complete with actions - which would have had Rogers and Hammerstein spinning in their respective graves and instantly consigned the world's all-time, favorite musical to the realms of X-rated arthouse screenings only, had it ever been included in its score.

As it was, Lois had barely gotten beyond the first stanza -- "Lois' breasts and her cute, little nipples/The way that her body shivers and ripples/The sound of her laughter, the sight of her grin/ These are a few of my favorite things!" -- with its accompanying teasing touch of his hands on her body, before collapsing in a fit of helpless laughter that had taken her breath away. Shortly thereafter, Clark had successfully assured that she hadn't recovered it for some time either.

"No," she said with a grin.

"Good," her husband said absently, his eyes now intent on the slow, sensual path his thumb was taking as it rubbed its way along the line of her lips. "Because," he added, startling her by taking hold of her around the waist and beginning to move in a slow glide westward, "I think I missed out a few of those 'favorite things' the other evening."

Lois tried not to let her grin get any wider, but it was pretty difficult. "Really?" she said, feigning supreme disinterest, whilst watching the tiled floor beneath them give way to the undulating glitter of water.

"Uh-huh." Clark glanced down and then rotated gently in the air, until he was floating vertically above the edge of the pool. The hands clasped around her waist still held her firmly against him. He moved them downward to cup lightly at her bottom instead, a move which brought the soft mound of her sex up hard against the growing evidence of his renewed arousal. Lois moaned and entwined her legs around his, letting the arch of one foot glide its way back and forth against the hard muscle and bone of his calf as he slowly descended into the water.

The cool liquid crept upwards along their bodies, a luscious crawl of teasing fingers as Clark continued the slow, tantalizing immersion until his feet were firmly on the bottom of the pool. The water lapped gently around their waists, slightly chilled on bodies still slick with the heat of passion and Lois shivered, her attention suddenly focused on the cold, feathering touch of the water against the still heated core between her thighs.

"Cold?" Clark asked, concerned, as he nuzzled lightly at the side of her neck and behind one ear.

Lois shook her head and then changed her mind, letting her body settle more firmly against his. She gasped a little at the sensation as his thick length rubbed against her passion swollen center with the motion and then, recovering her breath, mused shakily, "Well, actually, maybe I *do* need warming up. Just a little."

Clark's mouth transferred itself to her earlobe, his warm breath tingling against the sensitive skin. He sucked lightly and then let his tongue dip gently into the inner shell, seeking out its hidden whorls and folds before he murmured, "Funny......" His tongue ran a seductive line across the ear's outer curve. "......I was just thinking the same thing."

Lois smiled as she closed her eyes, her hands slipping up from their hold around his neck to bury themselves in his hair. She turned her head, seeking the touch of his mouth on her own and he obliged her, his tongue firmly forcing her lips apart and gliding into the slick, warm depths of her mouth. Lois groaned, closing her teeth delicately on its invading tip and sucking hard before he pulled free. His breaths came slightly harder and faster now as he fixed his eyes on hers and then let his mouth return to glide across her lips in a brief, solemn caress.

He repeated the move, small, silent gestures of affection that she accepted with sparkling eyes and lips that moved softly and gently beneath his own.

Clark's eyes studied her face intently, as though considering, and then his grip shifted, turning her deftly in his arms and tugging her back against his chest. He settled his chin on her shoulder to watch as his hands spread their way down from her waist to splay across the cradle of her hips, the tips of his fingers brushing at faintly waving curls, before they slipped lower to press tightly around the smooth muscle of her inner thighs. He applied light pressure, spreading her beneath his touch, pressing her back hard into the deep well of his hips and she bit back a low groan as she felt the tell-tale nudge of his newly swollen member prod its way inquisitively into the rounded swell of her bottom.

His length slid smoothly between her legs as he held them apart, not entering her, not yet, but simply nudging its way between the gap he'd created, its hard ridge rubbing lightly back and forth along the bone of her pubis as he rocked his hips. The sensation between her legs was incredibly erotic and Clark seemed to be in agreement as a harsh, guttural groan forced itself out of his throat, merging with her own.

He let his head fall back against the tiled wall behind him, closing his eyes as he continued that slow, seductive rocking motion, his hands holding her as a willing captive against the leanly flexing length of his body. Lois' breath began to rise in soft, eager pants and gasps and she whimpered, frustration driving her to try clenching her thighs instinctively around the hot, pulsing shaft teasing her to unbearable heights of pleasure with its rough stroking.

Clark resisted, not permitting her the release. His legs wrapped themselves tightly around her calves, ankles bracing hard against her own. Using that leverage, he held her open and wanting, imprisoned against his hot, burgeoning flesh. His arms enfolded her, constraining the restless movements of her hands as they pinned her tight against the damp skin of his chest. His fingers slid a soft, warm path downward, through the wet, tangled curls at her thighs to spread the sensitive folds of flesh, teasing and stroking before finding and paying sedulous attention to the swollen nub above until she was threshing wildly against the agonizing, wonderful, tantalizing pressure building deep in her belly and groin.

She writhed against his grip, pleading incoherently as she sobbed his name, again and again, but he was relentless, driving her higher, forcing her upward into sweet, unbearable ecstasy, yet always denying her the relief of pushing her fully over the edge of her arousal. The heavy tug of urgent need between her legs was growing to the point of pain and she cried out as his length seared a burning path across nerve-ends teased to fire.

Clark relaxed his grip on her, recognizing how close she was to the edge now. One hand maintained his tight hold on her as it pressed itself to the flat plane just above her groin, continuing its loving assault on her heated core as he pushed one finger down hard against her nub, always alternating pressure and direction, heightening her desire but never easing it as he stroked her, back and forth. His free hand drifted upwards, where it traced firm circles against her stomach before lifting higher to cup at her breast. He squeezed gently at the damp flesh fitted into his palm, picking up the rhythm of his hips, as he continued to rock tantalizingly against her in a torturous mimicking of the sexual act that sent her into a frenzy of need.

"Oh, god......oh god, Clark......*please*......"

Her hands fluttered mindlessly downward, intent on securing her own release as he denied it to her. She sobbed as his hand intercepted it en route, tugging it beyond the deeply throbbing cleft between her thighs it reached so desperately for. Lois' eyes stuttered wide in surprise as she felt him guide her fingers firmly down between her legs until she encountered the smooth length of his arousal. It slid itself into her palm, slick with the water lapping around them and her own juices.

Her fingers closed eagerly around the swollen shaft, squeezing in retaliation for the sweetly tormenting acts his hands were performing on her most, secret, vulnerable places and heard him grind his teeth over a deep groan. His hand left off its rough fondling at her breast, pausing briefly to tweak at the tight nub of her nipple before his fingers buried themselves in her hair, clenching and using his grip to tug her head back gently until it rested against his shoulder. The move had the natural effect of arching her back into a deep bow against his chest. It also thrust her breasts upwards, bringing them into easy reach of his questing mouth as he bent his head to fasten his lips around one soft, pale rounded globe and began to suckle steadily. His hand let loose his grip on her hair, and slipped down to knead at the nape of her neck.

A surge of electric heat skittered its way down from the tip of that aching breast and directly into Lois' groin as she mewled out a high breath. She tugged sharply at thickly swollen member in her hand and cried out in renewed frustration as it withdrew. Clark continued to pleasure her breasts with his mouth, alternately swirling his tongue in paths of molten fire around her taut nipples and grasping her flesh to suck hard and deep, but his hand left off its stroking of her neck and descended to her hip. Its companion joined it and he lifted her slightly to let him clear her body before he pushed forward again, this time sheathing himself deeply inside her in one smooth, heated thrust.

His wife's body bucked hard against him as he entered her, as she felt him fill and complete her. Already heated to unbearable heights, she came almost immediately, writhing against the tight pressure filling her as he pushed steadily into her depths until the base of his shaft pressed tightly against her rounded bottom. He held her until she subsided, limp and trembling in his grasp, sweat beading on his forehead, muscles clenching, as he strained to control his instinctive motions towards finding his own pleasure, and only then began a sweet, slow rhythm within her, pulling partway from her and then plunging back into her wet, welcoming core.

Her excited cries and sinuous squirming against him brought him quickly to his own completion as his thrusts picked up speed and power, driving into her again and again, his breath flooding against her throat in harsh panting gasps and groans. He was dimly surprised to feel Lois join him again as pleasure washed over him in waves and, seeking blindly, his mouth found hers, her lips surrendering to his as fervently and eagerly as her body recognized his domination of its desire.

Finally, spent, he withdrew from her, shifting to lift her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. Lois burrowed her head into his shoulder, set her lips in a soft kiss to the velvet skin at the hook of his jaw and then settled to nibbling at his ear.

"That was nice," she said.

"Nice?" He gave her an amused glance and she nodded firmly. "Mmmmmmm. Real nice."

She nipped gently at the flesh between her teeth and then pushed herself higher in his embrace, her hands rising to frame his face and turn his head so that she could look into the deep, brown eyes, seeing the soft reflection of her own satisfaction in their faintly glowing depths. She smiled and pressed her lips to his brow, drew them down the bridge of his nose in a series of light, butterfly caresses and then settled them in the barest touch against his lips. The soft swell of her breasts, their nipples still roused and pouting, pressed delightfully against his chest. She leant in to devour his lips in a heady kiss that set his pulse racing and his heart thudding hard against the walls of his chest.

Clark intensified the kiss for a long moment, his hand wandering softly along the curve of her bottom and her hip as one arm encircled her back to take her weight and enable him to cup possessively at one breast, the pad of his thumb gently soothing tender flesh as it rubbed lightly over a taut nub. His touch lingered as their lips parted and Lois sighed, sounding somewhat less content than she had a moment earlier.

Clark tilted his head to view her face. "What?"

"Oh, nothing." She trailed a finger across the tendon of his neck, studying its path. Clark recognized her avoidance.

"Lois - "

"Nothing," she insisted. "Well......its just that......" She moved her gaze to the dark silk of his hair, gleaming in the dim light as it clung wetly to his skull and let her fingers run through its tangled strands as she went off at a seeming tangent, "What time is it?"

"One fifty eight," he said, without hesitation, enclosing her wrist in one hand and moving it closer to where his lips could trail their way across the sensitive inner surface of her arm.

Lois sighed again, a soft trembling of breath this time. "And they won't open up again till nine." She kissed his temple and then touched her lips to the corner of his eye, before planting another light caress against his cheek. "Give or take an hour, that means we have another......oh, six hours or so before we can sneak out of here in amongst the crowd, given that we can find somewhere to hide out of the way of the staff till the doors open. Which we can," she added, with all the confidence of an inborn, sneaky nature and years of practice. "So......"

"So......" Clark paused in his soft explorations of her arm, his lips hovering just above the skin of her inner elbow, giving all the impression of waiting with deep interest to hear her reply.

"So......what are we going to do for another *six* hours? Encore?" she added in a hopeful murmur.

"Encore?!" Clark spluttered and then laughed delightedly. "My God, I've created a monster!" He chuckled, enfolding her more closely against his chest as he settled back against the tiles, eyes twinkling down at her. "Baby, you've just about worn me out as it is! Lord, woman, aren't you *ever* satisfied?"

"I know. I'm spoiled. Terribly," she agreed mournfully. "But it's really your own fault, you know." She kissed him gently, a smile forming at the corners of her lips. "If you weren't so darned *good* at keeping me occupied......"

"Well, when you put it like that......" He settled an arm around her shoulders and leaned in for a sweetly passionate kiss that held the promise of heat and fire in its softly rousing caress.

"You're pretty......good......yourself," he murmured.

Lois sighed into his mouth and gave herself over willingly to her husband's gentle, awakening touch on her skin as their bodies moved together to begin anew the age old, rhythmic consummation of their love.

-- Fini

A word from your author: Just a small explanation of *that* gesture <g>. If you've watched ALIENS, you'll know the one I mean. For those of you who aren't horror/sf fans and haven't seen the movie - trust me, it *was* very threatening. <eg>