This story is dedicated and credited to a fan Jeremy C.. He suggested characters and a basic plot. Hope you enjoy it bruh!

Martha Kent was having a hard time sleeping. The humid summer air was was making it impossible to wind down. She had tried stripping of her night clothes and turning on a fan, but none of that helped. She thought that perhaps opening the window would do some good.

When she reached out to turn the latch on the window and saw movement by the fence to the cow pasture. She saw a human figure walking rush pass and duck behind a bush. She thought to wake up Johnathan, but decided to grab the shotgun and handle it herself. She figured it was just some punk kid trying to tip a cow. She put on her robe and grabbed the shotgun and headed down the stairs.

She rushed out the front door to the wooden fence where she saw the figure rush by. She checked the bush, but whomever was there had found a new hiding spot.

She heard a sound behind her and in a quick fluid motion, turned and cocked the gun.

"Oh shit," yelped the young Whitney Fordman, dropping a carton of eggs. "Please don't shoot!"

"What are you doing here, boy?" She kept her shotgun trained on him. She knew this boy had been giving Clark a hard time, the mother in her thought to teach the whelp a lesson. She also knew that he wasn't living the All-American dream that everyone assumed he was. The poor boy was being forced to live his father's dreams, with drastic consequences if he fell short. Part of her felt sorry for him.

"I-I-I..."

"Spit it out, boy!"

She noticed that his eyes were neither locked on hers or the gun pointed at him. She looked down and saw that her robe had come open and one of her breasts was exposed. Keeping the gun pointed at him with one hand, she closed her robe with the other. Her face went flush with embarrassment, it was a good thing it was dark.

"Look, I was just gonna mess with Clark for messing with my girl, I wasn't going to hurt anyone or anything!"

"What, you going to tie him up in a field again? Get out of here! Now!" She hoped she had sounded forceful enough, that her shame didn't come across in her words.

He awkwardly stepped away, and as he turned, she saw why he was walking weirdly. The youth had an impressive tent formed in his pants.

Martha felt flattered that a brief flash of her older body had that affect on a teenage boy, let alone a star football player who could have his pick of hot young cheerleaders.

"Wait," she didn't know why, but she called out to him. "Whitney, come back here." She laid the gun on the ground and crossed her arms over her chest.

He stopped and turned back towards her. "Yes?" His embarrassment clearly evident in his voice.

"All this fuss between you and Clark, it's all over that Lang girl?
"Yeah. I know it sounds dumb..."

"You're damn right it does! Why is there so much commotion over her? Is she that great in the sack?" She purposefully let her robe droop off her shoulder, feeling a cheap thrill as she did so.

"W-w-what... Well, I... That is she and I..."

"What, she's never let you slide that big log in her tight little fireplace?" The euphemism sounded corny to her but it obviously made young Fordman twitch bashfully. She advanced on the boy, trying her best to strut seductively, hoping her nervousness didn't shine through.

She got up close to him, pressing her breasts up against him. She felt electricity run through her every nerve ending. His hard cock twitched in his pants, and she felt it as it pulsed against her.

"Now tell me something, Whitney. Why doesn't a boy, as tall and handsome as yourself, just go get your dick wet elsewhere?" She ran her hand over his chest.

His cock was tapping out Morse Code against her. He was breathing hard, stammering, but not really saying anything. He couldn't believe what was happening to him. As she placed her hand on his erection, he almost came in his pants.

"Mrs. Kent, I-I-I..."

She pumped his cock through his jeans and his six foot frame almost collapsed on top of her. She unzipped his pants and fished his rigid member out and massaged it vigorously. Remembering that they could be seen from her bedroom window, she led him behind the hay shed by his dripping dick. Once away from possible prying eyes, she dropped to her knees and engulfed his penis. He was longer than Johnathan, so she gagged at first, but soon caught her stride.

He inhaled deeply through his teeth. He was in heaven right then. He couldn't even get a handjob from Lana, and now here he was about to blow his wad in his competition's mother's throat. Clark's dad was a lucky man, because his mom's technique was impeccable. He lurched forward, filling her mouth with his seed. She swallowed the load and licked her lips.

She felt like she was a teenager again, sneaking around with Johnathan, blowing him behind the bleachers, the thrill of possibly getting caught. Her pussy was on fire with passion. She stood up, completely dropping her robe. There was one thing she really missed about her teenage years with Johnathan, and that was the rebound time. She grabbed Whitney's already reawakening cock, and gently pushed him down to the ground, completely undoing his pants and sliding them down.

He was at a complete loss for words. He had never even considered Martha Kent in a sexual manner. Sure there were plenty of moms in Smallville that he had considered bending over and fucking mercilessly, just never her. He propped himself on his arms as she laid his now fully erect penis against him and mounted, grinding her clit against it. Her thrusting coupled with her little bud riding the sensitive underside of his dick was amazing. She bucked faster and more violently, biting her own arm to muffle her moans. When she came, he could feel warm fluid flowing down his exposed balls. It was a decent amount, and was thoroughly confused. He had heard of chicks getting wet, but never this wet.

"Oh-oh my... I haven't cum like that in years!" She looked at him and saw his confusion. "What, you've never been with a squirter?"

Whitney was still confused, but felt a sense of accomplishment. He had made a woman squirt! An older woman at that! And if that feral look in her eye was any indication, he was in for more action.

She raised up, inserted him into her, and agonizingly slow, lowered all the way down. She teasingly rode him until she drove both of them mad. He grabbed her hips and pounded her ferociously. She leaned forward and covered his mouth his one of her swaying tits. He suckled and nibbled her nipple, which paired with his wild thrusting triggered another orgasm. She muffled her scream in the crook of his neck, which must have caused a reaction in him, as he pounded even harder.

He lasted much longer this time, giving her three more mind altering orgasms before he dumped another load in her. She rolled off of him and lay in the hay for a moment, before sitting up and grabbing her robe.

"I think you need to get on home now, young man. It's a school night after all," she said, feeling a little twinge of guilt about her transgression. He hopped up, pulling his pants up in one fluid movement. He offered her a hand to help her up, but she refused, getting up on her own.

"That was great Mrs. Kent" he beamed.

"Yeah, just don't go telling anyone... And lighten up on Clark, will you?" She put on her robe and went to retrieve her shotgun.

Whitney felt a bit dejected. "Can we do this again?"

Martha mused over the question. She did enjoy herself, but didn't feel right sneaking around on Johnathan. She remembered some of the moments they shared in their youth, starry nights, back seats, wild parties. Wild Parties!

"Maybe... if we play our cards right" She kissed her young lover good night and headed back in.

Stopping in the bathroom to shake off and sweep up stray straws of hay, she made her way to bed. Sleep came to her easy this time around.

Her dreams were a mix of the events of that night and the events of her and Johnathan's shared past. She dreamed of the a secret orgy the two of them had attended in their mid twenties with some of his high school football buddies. Her and Johnathan had spoken many times before about maybe getting back into that scene, or at least just another couple.

Morning came too soon for her. The sun beaming through her window was blinding. Johnathan was still beside her snoring up a storm. Her dreams had caused her to wake up in an extremely aroused state, but she had forgotten to clean herself after last night's foray. Plus they did say that a man could tell if another man had been in his "territory", so to speak. She decided to wake Johnathan up in a different manner.

Johnathan Kent was dreaming of tending to the cattle when Martha came out to bring him some ice cold lemonade. A quick peck turned into a deep kiss, which in turn became lovemaking. The dream felt so real. To real...

As he woke up, Johnathan realized he was buried deep in Martha's tight anus as they lay on their sides. She was working his cock with her ass like she did when they were younger.

He grabbed her hip and thrust deep and hard. She grabbed and bit her pillow to muffle her cries of passion. He knew just how she liked to be fucked roughly, and delightfully obliged. She climaxed, gripping his dick hard with the walls of her rectum. It didn't take too many more thrusts in that tight sleeve for him to cum.

"Good morning, love," she smiled as she rolled over to face him.

"To what do I owe that to? Tell me so I can recreate it whenever I want!" he joked.

The rest of their morning routine went as usual, aside from Martha seeming distracted. He finally decided to ask her what was up as they sat down for coffee.

"So what's on your mind, dear?"

"Oh, I'm just... thinking."

"About?"

She had to think of something quick. "Well... You know how we want Clark to have a normal childhood?"

He sipped his coffee, "Yeah, and...?"

"Well, I was thinking, maybe we can go out of town for the weekend..."

He got that she was hinting that Clark be allowed to have a wild-teenage-party, but also figured there was something else.

"And...?"

"Clark can be here, alone, and we can get a hotel room... and maybe have relive some of our high school memories... Maybe find a... you know..."

He tried to figure out what she was meaning, and then it hit him.

"You little minx, you!" he teased.

She smiled as she sipped her coffee. "I'll pick the couple?"

"Sure, why not?" he leaned in for a kiss.

They smiled at each other over the table. Hopefully things would all work out as she was wanting them to. All it would take was some proper planning.