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- - -
Clark was getting hard again. It was the third time that day.
Thank god he was sitting down.
The other founding Leaguers kept talking and Clark pretended to listen, occasionally nodding along. The mask he wore was of stoic calm, but underneath… underneath was a whirlwind of wicked thoughts and lurid memories.
The days and nights since Lois called it quits had been an ongoing storm, marked with bouts of the wildest sex he'd ever had - with women he'd never even dreamed of bedding. Karen and Kara, both beautiful, lovely, vivacious young women… and his own flesh and blood! His own cousins! And just recently, Dinah Lance had made herself another notch on his belt. The Black Canary, a formidable ally, stalwart friend… and the most talented pair of lips that Clark ever had the pleasure of knowing. But what stuck with him most of all was the very real possibility that he ruined whatever she had going with Green Arrow.
Clark couldn't shake the guilt. Even days later, it lingered in the back of his mind, stinging and simmering like acid. Ma and Pa had raised him to be a better man than that… yet memories of Dinah's striking blue eyes staring up at him… memories of her full, red lips sliding down his shaft… her tongue lashing, massaging the length of his cock… they had Clark's loins swelling up all over again, right there at the Justice League conference table.
More memories danced through his head. The feeling of Karen's great big tits wrapped around his cock, all that soft, warm flesh smothering his fat rod… the impossible tightness of Kara's hot, little cunt… the way Dinah's throat felt swallowing his manhood all the way down to his balls…
More fuel for the fire in his gut. Ever since Karen and Kara had lured him into bed, that passion, that hunger never truly went away. It burned inside, making his blood froth and bubble in his veins.
"...Reports tell us fighting has been tough. But the Green Lanterns have it more or less contained in the sector." John Stewart finished. Clark only caught the end of it, but nevertheless gave a nod, acknowledging.
"In any case, we should be prepared." Bruce - Batman picked up the opening. As always, he presented the face of cool, even calm and authority. "The last cosmic event caught us off-guard and the rest of the planet paid for it."
"Those were different times." Put in Hal Jordan. The veteran Lantern leaned forward in his seat. "If a hostile alien force shows up on Earth's doorstep again, they'll have us to deal with. We're not getting caught with our pants down again."
As the heroes delved deeper into discussions, the voices and the conference room faded into the background of Clark's perception again. He wasn't sitting at the table anymore, but back in Karen's apartment. He was in their living room, huffing with effort, savoring the feel of Kara's pussy wrapped so tight around his cock, savoring her delectable screams as he fucked her into the sofa. He had her pinned thanks to his greater size, one hand fixed to the back of her head, forcing her face into the cushions as he punched his cock into her cunt from behind. She was crying, wailing, and oh so dripping wet. Impossibly snug as well, her pink lips gripping his shaft so wonderfully, clinging to him, trying to keep him buried within-
"They'll be showing up to their own funerals." The Flash - Wally - spoke up. So confident and assured, as expected from the youngest of the founders. "We've got wizards, androids, martians, half a dozen Lanterns now. And, like, three Kryptonians. I'd say the good guys are pretty stacked this time around. Ain't that right, Supes?"
Stacked. Yes, Karen was absolutely stacked. An incredibly gifted woman, his cousin. In strength, mind, and especially in body. Clark had yet to see a pair of breasts so magnificent as Karen's. Not even Diana's Amazonian figure could truly measure up.
Ample, hefty, and so heavenly soft. Karen's bosom was a miracle of shape and feel. All natural udders that felt so perfect in his hands. All that overflowing creamy flesh… Clark wanted to bury his face in them so bad-
Clark frowned, snapping out of his perverted thoughts.
"Right." He answered, half-hearted. Enough for Batman to notice.
"You have some concerns?" The Dark Knight pressed him.
Clark silently cursed his lapse in control and forced back in place his mask of calm.
"No. I have complete faith in the Justice League." Clark spoke with that familiar cadence of surety, practiced over the years of being the face of their team. His gaze swept over the room, seeing the others nod in agreement. All except for Batman. "Now, if this was all for today…"
The yearning in his gut had only grown and his cock was harder than ever. It wasn't going away any time soon. Not unless Clark dealt with it.
He rose from his seat, thankful for the particular nature of his suit. The alien material was snug to his body, certainly, but it was also thick enough to compress and hide his otherwise substantial erection.
Leaving meetings early like this, and so abruptly… it wasn't something Clark enjoyed. It set the wrong example, for one. But when he looked around the table, the rest simply nodded - either they "understood" he was needed elsewhere or they were as eager to leave as he was. Only Batman, silent and stone-faced, seemed to see right through him.
Again, guilt made its presence known. And again, Clark ignored it. The throbbing length of his meat trapped against his thigh ached, yearning for heat, for touch. His balls, so swollen and full with hot cum, stirred with need. He needed to fuck.
God. Rao. What the hell is the matter with me?
- - -
Clark strode through the busy halls of the Watchtower, aimlessly wandering with the hope that his erection would die down. Yet memories and fantasies continued to run through his head.
Sultry smiles and soft lips. Silky hair and warm skin. Sweet whispers and heated cries. Hot pussy and bouncing breasts.
He was reliving the delight of emptying his balls straight into Kara's pretty pink pussy when his comm device pinged. A technician's professional voice rang through a second later.
"Superman. Your presence is requested in the athletics wing."
Clark made a face. He felt… annoyed. But was it towards himself or the interruption?
He didn't dwell on it. A second later he was moving with purpose to the other side of the station.
What could be the problem, he wondered. And why did they need Superman?
He reached the athletics wing in short time. There he found a small team of Watchtower support staff waiting near the entrance to one of the sparring chambers. The metal doors were closed and the terminal screen beside was flashing red. One of the technicians came up to him.
"What's the situation?" Clark asked the man.
The technician scratched the back of his head, looking apologetic.
"Sorry to bother you with this, sir. Supergirl and Vixen have been in there for a while now. A couple hours actually. We've got no camera feed inside to check on them but the kinetic sensors and their vital readings tell us they've been going at it pretty hard in there."
Clark raised a brow. He looked towards the locked doors, now concerned… and curious. Kara and Vixen? Fighting? Why?
Things were making less and less sense with each passing day. It was like everyone was turning into different people. Clark wasn't feeling anger exactly… but he was definitely losing his patience.
"I'll take care of this." Clark told the technician. "You and your team can go."
None of the crew argued with him. All of them nodded along, packing up their gear. Who would say no to Superman?
"Sure thing, Supes." One of the younger guys said, clapping him on the shoulder. They were gone moments later.
That left Clark alone… with only a locked set of doors separating him from Supergirl and Vixen.
Two of the most beautiful women on the Justice League. His own adorable cousin and an actual supermodel.
Indeed, his super-hearing confirmed a commotion happening in the chamber. The sound of some sort of scuffle. Deep, heavy breaths, the sound of skin striking skin, curses being spat and hissed. Shouts and cries traded, heated and raw. But were they fighting?
He could have used his x-ray vision to see through the walls. Clark refrained. Something in his gut urged him to see for himself.
Clark took a deep breath and steeled his nerves. His cock was still hard, a solid stalk of meat straining against his pants. The need that boiled in his loins frothed hotter now… joined with a sense of anticipation. He went up to the terminal beside the locked door and spoke.
"Justice League override code: A-181938."
The terminal blinked from red to green. The metal doors slid open.
Clark clenched his fists, feeling a tremble deep in his gut. He could smell them now, their skin, their sweat, their musk. His cock stirred again, twitching, swelling with pumping blood.
He pressed on, moving down the short hallway. The doors closed shut behind him… and the next set opened up before him.
"Alright ladies, it's time to wrap this up. The technicians told me you've been locked up in here for hours-"
Clark came to a dead stop at the open doorway. He stood and stared.
Kara and Vixen, he could see them now. With his own eyes, he could see all of them.
Perhaps at one point they really had been sparring. Their skin glistened with sweat, their hair was tousled and messy, and what little remained of their clothing was practically ribbons. Both women were nearly naked - Kara only had on a sports bra, pushed up and away from her pale, perky breasts. Vixen displayed even more skin with a loose band of cloth that might have once been a sweatshirt fastened around her lean, toned belly.
So much smooth skin for his eyes to feast on. So much sweetness offered in the flavors of milky cream and rich chocolate. Kara remained a delight of slim, slender femininity, while Vixen provided an all new sort of allure: tight muscle packed onto her graceful, lithe, yet still totally womanly frame.
Hands were roaming over bare flanks, exploring the naked curves of wide hips and full breasts. Dark fingers running through silky, blonde hair. Pale fingers circling poking, black nipples. Groping at lush, ebony flesh.
Kara and Vixen were locked together. Entwined. But they weren't fighting. They were kissing. Whispering. Giggling.
They were fucking.
Vixen was on her back, cradling Kara's head as the blonde laid kisses upon her breasts. The darker-skinned woman was cooing softly as Kara ran her tongue over her hard nipples, teasing the peaks with her teeth. Though it wasn't just Kara's mouth that was busy. Her hand was down between Vixen's raised and spread legs, her pale, slender fingers rubbing gentle circles over Vixen's mound, playing skillfully at the slick, pink folds.
Clark's mouth had gone dry. His cock was aching even worse now. The hunger that spread through his gut, his soul, had turned darker. Savage. Beastly.
Vixen let out a splendid little moan, letting her head tilt back as Kara's tongue and fingers continued their delicious torture. Then she gasped - Kara had taken one of her nipples between her teeth and gently bit down, pulling slightly. And her fingers… Kara let one dip into pink, sinking down to the first knuckle. Clark wanted to groan.
Blue eyes flickered towards him. Kara finally acknowledged his presence with the most naughty, lurid little smirk he'd ever seen from her.
"Hey, Kal." The feigned innocence in her voice had his heart pounding. "We were wondering when you'd show up."
Vixen sighed beside her, tilting her head up to give Clark a look of her own. Amber eyes burned bright, the color of golden honey. So warm and inviting.
"We've been waiting for a while." The supermodel told him before letting out a tiny squeak. Kara had added a second finger, delving into Vixen's sodden pussy with sudden intensity. The older heroine trembled lightly, taking in a shaky breath. "Had to… find some way… to pass the time."
"Sorry we started without you. But after going a couple rounds on the sparring mat, we both felt sop worked up. So hot."
Kara pressed a little kiss to the swell of Vixen's tit. Then a second one to the other. Clark watched his younger cousin's fingers work into Vixen's glistening core. In and out, slow at first, but quickly picking up pace. Spearing through hot, velvety pink.
Clark took a deep breath. The aroma of woman filled his nostrils, thick and potent and dizzying. His heart continued to pound, shooting hot, simmering blood to every last inch of his body. His cock felt like it was going to rip right through his suit.
"Kara…" He started slowly, taking measured steps into the sparring chamber. "This is wildly inappropriate. You… can't do this on the Watchtower."
The metal doors slid shut behind him then… and he heard the chime of the magnetic lock clamping down. No way but forward.
Kara gave a little pout. But she did not slow her working fingers. The plunged between Vixen's legs, deep into her tight, dripping cunt.
"Aw."
Clark tried not to focus on the way Kara's cute, plump lips pressed together so enticingly. He turned his attention to Vixen, but found no respite from her. The older heroine was devouring him with her eyes.
"And you, Vixen… You should know better." For all his effort, Clark couldn't quite keep an even tone. He loomed over them, yes, but his presence of authority was faltering by the second. His cock jerked in his pants, desperate to get free. His body had never felt so tense, so burning hot. "How could you let Kara talk you into this?"
He deepened his voice, straightened his back, and stared both girls down with a steely gaze. He made every effort to project power, to uphold the commanding presence of Superman.
This turned out to be the wrong choice. They broke into fits of laughter, giggling in their rich, sweet voices, taking delight in his stern response. And the way their eyes fell to his groin…
The blonde withdrew her fingers from the other woman's glistening sex. The digits came out drenched, shining with slick. Kara observed them with a pleased hum and smeared the remnants over Vixen's flat, toned tummy. Then she leaned in, whispering in her ear. Clark heard Kara's sultry voice as if he was right beside her.
"He's so hard." Kara told Vixen. "Go see for yourself."
At his cousin's urging, the supermodel untangled herself from the blonde's embrace. Slowly, slowly, Vixen rose to her full height. She was effortless in her sensuality, the simple act of walking made so strikingly seductive by the sway of her hips, by the way the ripples passed through the softness of her legs, her thighs.
She was sex cast in ebony, her dark skin flecked with beads of sweat and made to glow like rich chocolate dapped with caramel. She drew closer, closer, closer… eyeing him like a lioness would a fresh cut of meat.
Vixen got in close, easing the band of fabric fastened around her waist, down, down down to her ankles. She kicked that last scant garment away, leaving her completely naked before him. She looked up at him with those amber-honey eyes, alight with open want.
Her hands came to his chest, fingers sprawling slowly, gently over the Superman shield - feeling at the man underneath. She let out a little hum, clearly delighting in the firmness she felt beneath her fingertips.
"Blondie over there made me a promise." Vixen's voice poured like warm syrup. Her hands traveled down his body, feeling at his abdomen, his waist, lower, lower. Clark held back a groan as her fingers slid over the bulge at his groin. Vixen's eyes lit up even brighter. "And she delivered."
The dazed giggle that rose up in Vixen's throat had Clark wanting to drag the woman to the floor right then and there. He wanted to hear her moan, to hear her scream and wail and shriek. He wanted her to beg for his cock. Wanted to feel her come undone as he drowned his cock in the soaking wetness of her cunt.
Dark urges for a dark lover.
Clark held, if only for a moment, to restraint. Yet Vixen kept needling him.
"Your cousin is such a nice girl. She knew she couldn't keep this all to herself." She purred, massaging his monstrous hard-on through the material of his suit.
While his manhood stirred fiercely from her touch, Vixen's words gave Clark a moment of pause. The implication was clear… and very, very troubling for Superman's reputation.
Vixen knew. She knew about him and Kara and Karen. About their twisted intimacy. But did she know how far they had gone?
Did she know that Clark had bred his pretty, blonde cousin?
"Vixen… Clark cleared his throat. "What Kara and I did…"
"Kal." Vixen gave his cock a squeeze. Clark groaned again, fighting the urge to throw the woman to the floor, to hold her down and… and…
"It's… Clark." He struggled to correct her.
The supermodel offered a little smile.
"Clark." She repeated in a soft voice. "Call me Mari."
Her fingers traced the outline of his fattened prick. Her touch was insistent but also soft. So very soft.
"No masks in here." She whispered to him. Her amber eyes burned like the sun. "No suits, either."
Mari began tugging at his Superman garb, somehow knowing just where the seams and clasps were. Another set of hands joined hers: Kara, cackling with glee. The answer was obvious then.
He had walked right into their trap. Outnumbered as he was, Clark saw no point in resistance. So the two girls disrobed him. Gone was the cape. Gone was the Superman shield. Gone were his boots, his pants, all the rest. It only took a moment before the girls had him just as naked as them.
Together, Kara and Mari fawned over him, hands exploring his shoulders, his arms, his abs, his ass… and especially his cock. Mari took the privilege of first fondling, her fingers attempting to close around his shaft. She openly marveled at his size, using both hands to stroke the hefty, veiny prick.
"Wow…" She breathed out, taking a long moment to just stare at the massive rod. Clark couldn't deny the rush to his ego, the way his chest swelled with masculine pride, seeing such a beauty like Mari worshiping him with her eyes, her hands. Not to mention the pleasing warmth of her touch. Her strokes were slow, but oh so delightful.
"In here, we can be our real selves." Mari finally said to him. Her voice was low and husky. "Free to explore our deepest desires. And my deepest desire… is Superman's big… fat… white cock."
Clark very nearly choked. Behind him, Kara let out another devious laugh. She slid her arms around his waist, kissing at his solid back. It shouldn't have made his cock throb. He wasn't like that. He wasn't into that. But Mari's strokes… Kara's groping hands…
"Oh, God." Clark groaned.
"Oh yes." Kara sang.
Mari continued to pump at his length. Her hands worked over his shaft, each stroke bringing a small rush of pleasure, drawing a tiny bead of precum out to wet the tip.
She rose onto her tiptoes and stole a kiss from him. Then another. The supermodel let out a very pleased hum.
"Come on, big guy. I've been waiting patiently. Give me what Supergirl promised. Give me what I need."
She stole another kiss, deeper this time. Her tongue slid into his mouth, demanding a duel. Clark gave in.
His cock twitched in Mari's pumping hands, ravenous need pulsing from his balls. He wrapped one arm around Mari's waist. His other arm reached back for Kara, pulling her to his front. He drew both girls in close, taking a deep, primal joy in their presence, their heat, their softness. Mari's tongue lashed against his, while Kara's danced upon his neck.
Clark groaned into Mari's sweet mouth and took both her and Kara to the sparring room floor.