A/N: This story contains incest (not really considering Jonathan isn't his real father) and pedophilia.
Moonlight peeped through the slim parting between a pair of frilly curtains, casting a thin line of glowing light across a small boy sleeping soundly in his tiny bed. He laid comfortably curled up warm and snug under a thick blanket with a small smile on his young face, the product of his pleasant dreams. The drowsy boy had been tenderly tucked in by his loving mother after having a long tiring day fishing with his father—exciting and enjoyable, but exhausting all the same. Yet no amount exhaustion can outweigh a young child's tiny bladder.
Little Clark Kent's eyes fluttered open from the strong need to relieve himself. Initially confused to be waking in the middle of the night, Clark yawned deeply and rolled over, balling up more snuggly for sleep to reclaim him. But the steadily growing pressure in his lower abdomen demanded his attention. Yawning once more, the young boy quietly vacated the warmth of his cozy bed, taking a small moment to release an almost involuntary stretch before drifting off to the bathroom in a sleepy haze.
He silently shuffled down the hallway in his comfy power ranger pajamas, the moonlight shining through the hallway's windows guiding his way. The small boy dug the sleep from his eyes with his tiny knuckles and after arriving in the bathroom, he chose not to bother with the light switch he still struggled to reach. Instead of balancing himself on his toes, he simply left the door completely ajar, letting the light from the hall push away the darkness, just enough for him to handle his business.
Because a lady lived in the house, Clark lifted the toilet seat like his father had taught him and pushed his pajama bottoms down under his cute little boy backside. He then released the urine from himself, taking pleasure in the relief that followed. It was short. And it was relatively quiet, his small stream of pale yellow liquid making practically no sound in the toilet water. Forgetting to flush, Clark clumsily tucked himself back in and made his way back to his bedroom.
"...and I still can't get you to try it?" The familiar sound of his father's voice gently flowed down the hall, halting Clark on his way back to bed. Little Clark new that big people needed sleep too. Why was his father up in the middle of the night?
"I'm sorry, I really am," his mother's light voice trailed behind his father's, "but the thought of it just…. it makes my stomach turn…" Clark's little eyebrows almost touched themselves in confusion, and he curiously, almost unintentionally drifted further down the hall.
"Come on, Martha..." Jonathan cajoled sweetly. "Just this once. How about if I do you first? Hmm? Here… roll over for me."
"No, Jonathan," Clark heard Martha respond softly. "I don't want you to do anything I won't ret—mngh… oh my..." Her sentence was cut short by a noise that Clark related to biting into a juicy burger on an empty stomach. Yet it was somehow… different… Clark had never heard his mother emit a sound quite like that before. The pleasurable moan only strengthened Clark's confusion. Their conversation made no sense to the young boy.
How about if I do you first? his father had asked. What was he doing that elicited such a unique sound from his mother? Letting his curiosity get the best of him, Clark gently, ever so gently, turned their handle and cracked the door, peering in. He simply had to see. He had to know what was going on.
Clark's little eyes fell out of his head. Both his father and his mother had seen Clark naked several times. But Clark had never witnessed his parents that way. Ever. He'd seen his father shirtless a few times while he worked in the fields, but never completely nude. Yet there they both were, naked as a pig in their big grownup bed. Clark's eyes gazed over his mother's naked body, lying there on her back, her breast and slender form exposed to the room. His father was knelt between her legs, his strong back visible and his mouth on her… on her private parts!
Clark was astounded. His father licked and lapped at her, creating wet sucking sounds. He stuck his tongue inside of her, like he was doing the most normal thing in the world. He gently ran his large hands up her trim stomach while he—Clark couldn't think of another word for it—ate her private parts. His mother appeared to be in pain and she squirmed in the bed, writhing as if Clark's father was hurting her. But the sounds she emitted were completely contradictory and she locked her fingers in her husband's hair, pulling him closer as if she wanted him to continue and none of it made sense.
Clark was frozen. He couldn't tear his young eyes away; he didn't dare breathe too hard as he stood there silently with wide eyes, spying on his parents' strange interaction, watching his father eat at his mother, making her soft moans grow higher and higher in pitch and—and Clark was almost certain that his father was hurting her now, even though she still didn't released his head. Her moans didn't sound like good moans anymore. They sounded strained and labored. Clark had almost decided to rush into the room and help her, when she tensed, emitting one final muffled scream… and gently relaxed. Just like that, it was all over.
Clark was wide awake by now. What on Earth…? What just happened?
"Oh my God, Jonathan…" His mother heaved heavy sighs, smiling down at his father. "That was amazing…"
"My turn?" Jonathan asked, smiling up at his wife in return.
"I don't know, Jonathan," she responded tentatively, glaring down at him with a face to match her tone.
"Come on, Martha," Jonathan repeated, sounding almost like Clark did when he was asking to stay up late. Why was his father so adamantly begging for his mother to do something she clearly didn't want to do? "It wasn't so bad from my end." He kissed his way up her body while she spoke.
"I didn't ask you to do that. You offered and I never agreed to anything," she countered, though it sounded as if her defenses were wavering. "Besides, it's not the same."
"Why isn't it the same?" Jonathan mumbled, lying atop her and kissing into her neck now. "I let you climax in my mouth and everything…"
Clark watched his mother lie there silently for a second, obviously torn between her decision, while her husband kissed at her neck. Clark thought that he should really go back to his room, because the more he watched the more confused he became. The way his father was lying on top of her, though Clark couldn't see it, he knew that their privates had to be… touching… and that was… okay?
"Fine…" Martha sighed. "I'll try it…" Clark's father was lying on his back next to Martha so quickly Clark barely saw him move. The man laid there, smiling at his wife like Clark did on Christmas.
And for the first time, Clark got a clear view of his father's penis. It was darker and—and… Clark pulled his pajama bottoms forward peering at his own penis. Compared to his, his father's penis was so large… and it was stiff and straight… Clark had so many questions his brain felt like it might explode from the pressure of containing them all.
When he looked up again, his mother had crawled in between his father's legs, much like he had been between hers. She raked her long hair over her shoulder inadvertently giving Clark a blatant view of the proceedings. She gripped the large appendage in one hand, looking down at it stoically. She wasn't—she wasn't going to put it in her mouth? Was she? She was going to eat it…? Like his father had done her?
Clark watched on fascinated as indeed, after stroking it a few times, she lowered her head and timidly suck the tip of her husband into her mouth. Jonathan's eyes fluttered closed and he released a deep exhale, his hands twisting in the sheets. But instead of eating it like he was expecting her to do, Clark saw his mother's head go lower and lower, taking more and more of the long penis into her mouth until—
She abruptly popped off of it, her poker face gone. She looked as if she'd found something distinctly unpleasant on the bottom of her shoe.
"I'm sorry, Jonathan. I feel terrible but I just can't..."
Jonathan deflated like a punctured balloon. His disappointment was as obvious as her disgust and she wiped the slob from her mouth with the back of her hand.
"It's alright, sweetheart." With a look of dismay, his father nodded and stroked her face affectionately. Then he forced a smile. "Now I can't say that you never tried."
"You just lie there and I'll do all the work, okay?" she whispered, as if that somehow made up for letting him down. If his mother felt so bad about not doing it, why didn't she just do it? Putting a penis in your mouth couldn't be that bad, could it?
Instead, she straddled his father's waist and Clark watched the stiff appenaged slowly disappear inside of her, that same pained expression from before returning to her face. She lifted herself up again—Clark could see that his father's penis was wet and shiny now, that had to be from his mother's spit, right?—to simply drop herself back down on her husband. Over and over she did this, picking up the pace until she made the same quiet pleasurable moans as before.
Clark's father made similar sounds as well this time. He even said, "Oh fuck," a word Clark had never heard before. His father's face was contorted painfully just like his mother's and Clark could hear their skin slapping together and—what was happening? It was baffling. The strange… whatever they were doing went on for several minutes, monotonous lifting and dropping, moaning and creaking until once again, his mother tensed and trembled.
The both of them released strangled cries and, with eyes filled with so many different emotions, Clark watched his mother pee on his father. What? Okay this was just crazy! Then she lifted herself off of her husband, his glistening, softening penis flopping out of her, and she cuddled up in front him, her eyes closed, seeming to already be drifting off to sleep.
"I love you, Martha," his father whispered into her ear. Her eyes still closed, his mother sighed and smiled a warm smile, as if those words were what she lived for.
"I love you too, sweetheart." He pulled the sheets over them and gently wrapped his strong arms around her, pulling the woman close.
It was then that Clark looked up at his father's face, and found two soft orbs boring into own. Clark's tiny little stomach leapt into his throat, and his breath froze in his chest. For a small moment, they simply stared at each other, Jonathan's face placid and Clark's terrified. Neither of them moved; neither of them said anything. Then Clark silently closed the door.