Claire Bennet was never an unsatisfied woman. In fact, one might say she was overly satisfied, if there ever was such a thing. Peter Petrelli had been making love to her for three years now, and she couldn't call to mind one single occasion where he was left sated and she was not. Peter was a very attractive man, and his abilities gave him incredible stamina in -- ahem -- certain aspects of his life, which meant that Claire was never left wanting; quite the opposite, in fact. It was rare, but occasionally, on nights like this one in particular, Claire wished that Peter would just speed things up a bit.
Claire tried to relax into the sheets as she and Peter entered their second hour of lovemaking. She was pretty sure that wasn't normal, but coming from a girl who'd impaled herself on a streetlamp the other day, what was normal, exactly? She felt guilty, wanting it to be over, but the truth was she'd been done about 90 minutes ago and she wanted him to finish so they could watch Conan and get some sleep. They'd discussed this problem, if you could call it that, at length and she had assured him that there were worse problems for them to have in the bedroom than his high endurance. However, what for most men was considered a sprint had become a bit of a marathon for Peter and a relay race for Claire.
Peter paused and wiped Claire's hair gently from her face, leaning down and kissing her brow.
"Let's stop. You're tired." he whispered to her gently, nuzzling her with his nose.
YES! Finally! God, I think my leg's gonna break off.
"No, babe, you're not finished. I'm fine right here." she replied, running her fingers sweetly through his damp hair.
Damn my mother for raising me to be polite. Oh, do not think about Mom right now, stupid!
"No you're not, you're tired and your hip hurts. And if that reference to your mother didn't kill my libido I don't know what will."
How about a reference to my father?
"Ewww!!" Peter moaned.
"Well, stop invading my privacy and I won't plant dirty thoughts. My hip's fine and so am I. I don't want to stop. I love you."
"I love you too. But I don't want to break your leg off."
"It'll grow back. Let's go."
Nearly two hours and four orgasms later and Peter finally rested peacefully beside her. Claire Bennet was never an unsatisfied woman. Her whole life she's always heard women complain about having to fake it. There were nights, especially nights like this one, when she wished that was their problem. She glanced at the clock. 2:04AM. Four hours was a lot of sex.
She'd never heard of guys faking it, but Claire decided that Peter better learn how to pretty fast, before that tingly sensation in her leg became permanent.