Title: Fantasy Night
Author: The Fallen Sky
Rating: M
Pairing: Chlark
Summary: Just a little Chlark fantasy.
Warning: There's smut!
A/N: This is a Chlark one-shot. Remember the scene from "Devoted" where Chloe was wearing nothing but Clark's football jersey and tried to seduce him? Well, this is my take on it. Enjoy!
"I would do anything for you. Things that Lana would never do. Things to help relieve your stress." Her voice is earnest and filled with promise.
He's both intrigued by and wary of the insinuation in her statement, but his curiosity gets the better of him. "Like what?" His voice mirrors his uncertain state of mind.
With a bright, sinfully sweet smile, and mischief in her eyes, she glides her hand over the front of his flannel covered chest, skimming across his abs, before coming to rest on the generous bulge concealed by his jeans.
His breath hitches at the feel of her hand on him, but he can't tear his eyes away from hers. That beautiful smile is still plastered on her face, and she looks as innocent as an angel, but her hand belies her angelic appearance as it begins to gently massage his bulge.
He should really say something, but his brain can't get past the fact that Chloe is sitting next to him, wearing nothing but his football jersey, and is currently fondling his raging hard cock through his jeans.
The silence drags on so long, that she takes it as him giving consent for her to "help relieve his stress".
In one smooth motion, she swings a leg over his lap so that she's straddling his thighs, while her hand continues its delightful torture. She's still wearing that radiant smile, and he's struck by how amazingly beautiful she is.
'Has she always been this gorgeous?' He wonders. 'How did I not notice how sexy she is?'
Regret threatens to overwhelm him, but before it can, she's leaning in and capturing his lips in perhaps the most tender kiss he's ever experienced.
Whatever thoughts he may or may not have been having are gone. His mind is incapable of thinking anything other than 'Chloe'.
They continue to kiss, slow and sweet, for what feels like an eternity. In fact, he's so preoccupied by kissing her that he's nearly forgotten that her hand is resting on his denim covered cock. That is, until he hears the sound of his zipper being lowered.
'Oh God.' He thinks. 'Did she really just do that?'
He receives his answer when he feels her hand slip inside of his jeans and his boxers before wrapping around his aching cock. He gasps, but doesn't stop kissing her. If anything, his kisses pick up in intensity at her boldness.
Slowly, almost lazily, her tiny hand begins to slide up and down his shaft, eliciting little squeaks and deep moans from him.
She can't help but smile against his lips at the thrill and sense of power she feels. 'I can't believe I'm making Clark moan!' She thinks.
Minutes seem like hours as they continue their erotic dalliance. But kissing and a handjob is not what she had in mind when she came to the loft today.
Ceasing her stroking, she grips his cock tight and pulls it out of its confines and into the heated, musky air.
Again, he's surprised by her boldness, but he finds he's more turned on than shocked by it.
She gives him one last, long kiss before pulling back and looking into his eyes. She can see lust and desire there, and she knows it's all for her.
That megawatt smile lights up her face again, as she rises up on her knees and moves his cock closer to her core. The football jersey is obstructing the view, but he doesn't notice. He's too busy staring into her eyes.
Slowly, she rubs the swollen head of his cock against her achingly sensitive clit, causing both of them to gasp and moan. She circles it round and round, until she finds it difficult to breathe. Then she guides the tip of his cock to her entrance, pausing briefly to steal a kiss before sliding down his length agonizingly slow.
Their eyes never leave each other. Their gazes locked as she encases him fully in her tight, wet, heat.
A sudden stillness envelops the room, and they remain motionless, joined in the most intimate way two people can be.
Unspoken words are exchanged, professions of love and adoration, as well as promises of continued friendship and perhaps greater commitment.
The moment passes, and she begins to move, languidly up and down his impressive length. Pleasure flares in both their bodies as they dance to a rhythm only they know.
As she continues her up and down motion, his hands slip under the jersey where they grasp two handfuls of her firm, supple ass. A long appreciative moan escapes her as he squeezes her cheeks.
Their pace quickens as the pleasure builds. The end draws nearer with every upward slide and each downward thrust.
Her hands grip his shoulders for leverage, while his hands remain firmly attached to her ass as he assists her up and down movement.
Everything is a blur of motion and sensation. Pleasure, both physical and emotional, floods their bodies and minds, threatening to overwhelm them.
The tension builds, drawing tighter and tighter. Their desperation for release drives them, spurring them to go faster and faster. They're poised on the precipice, staring into an abyss of ecstasy.
And they're falling, together.
Pleasure explodes from deep within, along with primal screams.
Her core ripples and pulses, squeezing him tight. His cock throbs and spurts, coating her walls with his essence.
Time has stopped. The rapturous ecstasy continues, seemingly without end.
Then, stillness.
The room is quiet, save for their deep, panting breaths.
When they've calmed and regained their senses, they find themselves in a friendly embrace, her arms around him, her head pressed into the crook of his neck, his arms around her, his hands gently stroking her back. The only thing shattering this moment of innocence is the fact that his semi-hard cock is still nestled deep inside her soft core.
Joy bubbles up in her and a giggle escapes.
"What's so funny?" He asks with subdued mirth in his voice.
Pressing a kiss to his neck, she replies, "I can't believe we actually went through with this."
"Why's that?" He asks, genuinely confused.
"Well, ever since we instituted Fantasy Night, I've noticed that you seem to always choose these moments from our past where we could have taken things beyond friendship but never did."
Pulling slightly out of his embrace and sitting up, she looks him in the eye and continues. "Every place we've had an "almost" moment, you choose for us to relive that moment, only this time we end up taking the next step, which includes having sex. Don't get me wrong, I love our trips down memory lane, especially considering that we get to have sex in some very public places, which is extremely hot by the way, but why do you keep choosing the moments when we missed our opportunity?"
Placing a hand on her cheek and stroking it with his thumb, he replies with soul baring honesty, "I regret all of those missed opportunities. Looking back, I wish I hadn't been so blind to what was right in front of me. If I had seen how amazing you are, inside and out, then maybe I wouldn't have been alone for so long, or wasted so much time chasing the wrong girl."
With a tender smile, she places a hand over his heart. "That's incredibly sweet, but if we hadn't missed so many chances, do you really think we'd have ended up where we are now?"
"You mean having sex on the couch in my loft?" He says with an impish grin.
She swats his chest with the hand that was resting over his heart and rolls her eyes. "No, you goof! I'm talking about us being a couple, a married couple."
"Oh, that. Well, I'd like to think we would have."
"But we don't know that for sure, and I wouldn't risk what we have now for anything, even if that means we have to live with the regret of all those missed opportunities."
"You know, you are a wise woman."
Leaning in, she whispers against his lips, "And don't you forget it."
They continue kissing until their passion starts to stir again, along with other things.
In between kisses, she tries to speak. "I…love…these…fantasy…nights…don't…you?"
Her only response is an incoherent grunt and more kissing.