One day, Martha Kent Luthor booted up the computer in her husband's study, and she received the shock of her life. There was a DVD in Lionel's DVD multimedia player, so she decided to play it.
It was a videotape of him fucking Chloe Sullivan.
Martha wasted no time in searching through his desk drawers, and it didn't take her long to find the other discs.
Apparently, there were several hours of video of her husband having sex with Chloe in his bed, in his office, and on top of his desk.
That wasn't the worst of it. The worst of it was that he was still watching the tapes.
Even though he was married to her now, and he was supposedly the happiest he'd ever been.
Martha was so incensed that she confronted him about his relationship with the young woman she considered a daughter and Lionel admitted only the bare facts: their affair lasted a year, and it occurred during Chloe's second year of college.
He did not confide to his wife that he often wondered if Chloe started sleeping with him out of gratitude for keeping Clark Kent 's secret. It didn't actually matter because they both got what they wanted out of the relationship, but he still sometimes wondered.
He also didn't mention that sometimes when he closed his eyes, the image of Chloe's gorgeous alabaster skin would float before his eyes. That he could still see the way her skin would flush pink when she was aroused.
He didn't want to hurt his wife anymore then she already was, but there were times when he couldn't get Chloe Sullivan out of his mind, even though she'd been out of his bed for years.
He remembered feeling ridiculous with his head between Chloe's creamy thighs. He knew that not only did he look undignified kneeling between her legs, but that he sounded ridiculous when he licked, slurped and sucked.
However, he also knew that Chloe enjoyed herself immensely: her arched back and orgasmic screams were solid proof, but he still knew that he looked foolish.
He remembered that Chloe liked to be on top.
Whenever she'd straddled his waist and started to slowly ride him, he'd cup her hips to urge her to move faster. She'd ignore his silent pleas, and would just continue to sway over his cock, rocking back and forth, keeping the pace light.
He'd let out a groan of frustration, but that would turn into a deeply pleasured moan when she'd pick up her sped and start twisting her hips. It wasn't long before Chloe was bouncing in Lionel's lap, and then he knew she could feel her muscles tightening around his throbbing cock.
Lionel could never come with Chloe on top of him, and it was only after the shock waves from her orgasms had paseds that he'd flip them over, and start madly pumping in and out of her.
Then and only then would his cock start to spasm, and with a deep groan, he'd come deep inside her clenching walls.
He didn't want to tell Martha that he had lusted after Chloe since she was fifteen years old. He had elaborate fantasies about what it would be like to just take her. To push her over his desk, pull up her skirt, rip off her panties and just thrust into her from behind.
To command her into his bed, and loom over her as she eagerly spread her legs. To hear her whimper when she would see his hard cock, ready and glistening with need, and then hear those whimpers turn into deep moans when he would, in one smooth movement, stroke into her.
He wanted to hear Chloe grunt each and every time he pounded into her, and he wanted to see her full breasts swaying from the motion of his deep thrusts.
He wanted to spank her rounded ass until she begged him to make her come.
And he finally got his chance, 5 years later.
When Martha discovered Lionel's personal DVD collection, she wished she had destroyed them.
Instead she made the mistake of watching each and every video, and she now had every moan. grunt and whimper made by the pair on the bed burned into her brain.
It got to the point that Martha knew when Chloe was about to come by the sound of her panting.
She wished she could forget the lustful smile that would appear on her husband's face whenever he walked into his Metropolis Penthouse to find Chloe lying naked on his bed, eagerly waiting for him.
Would she ever be able to scrub her memory free of the sight of the two of them entangled and kissing, as he thrust slowly into of her? Or was it worse to see them grunting and rutting like animals?
Martha wanted to forget the image of Lionel possessively pulling Chloe's lushly nude body to him after she teased him about being jealous of Clark .
Or the way Chloe brushed her full breasts against his chest, and Lionel would then reach out his fingers to twirl her nipples making her groan wantonly.
She wanted to forget seeing Chloe's bare bottom swing as she climbed off the bed, knowing that Lionel's eyes followed her every movement.
She wondered if hypnosis could help her block out the sounds of Chloe's breathy moans as Lionel moved inside her, or the sight of her hips arching upwards as she came with a satisfied yelp.
And Martha would most definitely want to forget the exact moment when Lionel would finally stop thrusting into Chloe. He would cry out so loudly when he emptied his seed deep inside the blonde that Martha would wonder if he had injured himself.
But none of this could ever be forgotten.