"Ahhh-ah, oh, fuck, shit, right there."
Lana's moans spilled out raw and filthy, each breath ragged as Clark buried his face in her cunt and feasted.
His mouth was relentless, tongue drilling deep into her vaginal opening, sliding through her slick labia with the kind of focused intensity that made her vision blur at the edges.
She could feel the rough brush of his stubble against her swollen outer lips, the wet heat of his breath against her most intimate flesh, the way he listened to every hitch in her breathing and adjusted his assault on her pussy accordingly.
Her legs had locked around his head at some point, heels digging into his back, trying to pull him deeper into her dripping cunt even though she wasn't sure her body could handle more.
He hummed against her engorged clitoris, the vibration sending a fresh jolt up her spine, and she gasped out something that might have been his name or might have been desperate begging.
Clark's tongue moved with a rhythm that felt almost practiced-circles that tightened and loosened around her fucking hole, flicks upward across her sensitive labia that made her hips buck, long, slow drags through her pink inner folds that had her fingers clawing at the tent's thin bedding.
When he finally focused on her clitoris, drawing the swollen bud between his lips with careful suction, Lana's back arched clean off the ground, a cry tearing from her throat.
"Fuck, fuck, oh yes, suck my clit, you bastard-"
The sounds she made were embarrassing, honestly-broken and needy and loud-but Clark seemed to love them.
She could feel him smiling against her wet flesh, could hear the satisfied rumble in his chest, and somehow that only made her cunt burn hotter.
When he finally pulled back, his face glistened in the darkness of the tent, absolutely smeared with her juices, and Lana felt a fresh wave of heat crawl up her neck at the sight.
He licked his lips slowly, deliberately, like he was savoring the taste of her pussy, and something about the casual hunger in his expression made her stomach flip.
"Damn, you're dripping," he said, voice rough. "Your cunt tastes sweet as hell. Can't get enough of this pussy."
Before she could form a response, he was gripping her hips, dragging her closer towards him.
His thumbs pressed into the soft flesh of her ass, spreading her wider, exposing every slick fold of her vagina to his gaze.
Lana felt exposed in a way that had nothing to do with physical modesty and everything to do with how thoroughly he was examining her most intimate flesh.
"There," he murmured, almost to himself, and she felt his gaze like a physical touch on her spread labia. "Right fucking there. Look at that beautiful little cunt."
His tongue swept through her again, slower this time, dragging through her sensitive inner lips, and Lana's world narrowed to the wet heat of him against her vaginal walls, the pressure building in her core, the impossible tension coiling tighter and tighter until-
"Ah-shit-ah, fuck, I'm gonna-"
She came hard, her whole body seizing as pleasure crashed through her in waves.
She could feel herself squirting, her vagina contracting and gushing, could hear the obscene sounds of her own flesh as her cunt spasmed around nothing, and Clark didn't pull away.
He stayed right there, tongue thrusting into her convulsing hole, lapping at her throbbing labia through the aftershocks, drinking her down like he couldn't get enough of her taste.
When he finally came up for air, his face was absolutely smeared with her cum, her juices dripping from his chin.
He wiped himself off with a corner of the blanket, but his eyes never left her spread pussy, dark and pleased and hungry in a way that made her pulse flutter all over again.
Lana lay there panting, chest heaving, her sensitive labia still twitching from the aftershocks.
Drool had escaped the corner of her mouth at some point; she wiped it away with a shaking hand and stared up at the tent ceiling, her vagina feeling empty and fluttering.
"Huh... huh..." She swallowed, trying to find enough air for words. "I-is this... really... huh... your first time?"
Clark grinned down at her, and she saw the flash of male pride in his expression, the way his shoulders straightened almost unconsciously. "Yup."
He paused, then added with a lazy drawl, "Well, what can I say, Miss Lang? I'm a natural at making this cunt cum."
Lana wanted to laugh-wanted to roast him for that line, honestly-but her breathing still hadn't steadied enough for it.
She settled for a weak swat at his shoulder that probably felt more like a caress.
Clark stood, and the shift in perspective was dizzying.
She looked up at him, this bastard who'd just dismantled her pussy with his mouth, and felt something complicated twist in her chest.
Then he reached for his pants, and her attention snapped elsewhere entirely.
The dark fabric of his underwear did nothing to hide what he was packing.
Even through the material, the outline was impressive and intimidating, if she was being honest with herself.
When he pushed the underwear down and his cock sprang free, Lana's mind went completely, utterly blank.
"Holy fucking shit," she breathed.
It was huge.
That was the first coherent thought her brain managed to produce.
Thick and heavy and veined, the bastard wasn't even in his twenties yet and he was walking around with that monster between his legs?
It throbbed visibly in the cool air of the tent, precum already beading at the slit, and Lana felt an involuntary shiver trace down her spine at the sheer presence of it, her empty cunt clenching at nothing in response.
For one absurd moment, she genuinely wondered if that fucking thing would even fit inside her vagina.
The length, the girth, the way it curved slightly upward like it was aiming at her spread flesh-
"Like what you see, Red?" Clark's voice was amused, teasing, and she dragged her gaze up to find him watching her with dark, knowing eyes. "Go on, tell me you want this fat cock inside that tight little pussy."
She came out of her daze slowly, reassessing him.
Not Clark.
Not Superman.
But genuine freak of nature, standing naked and unashamed with that monster dick in his hand, slowly stroking himself as he looked at her spread, cum-slick cunt like he owned it.
He chuckled, low and dark, and moved closer.
When he stopped, he was close enough that she could smell him-musky and male and Clark, a scent that went straight to her hindbrain and made her mouth water despite her better judgment.
His cockhead bumped against her chin, hot and slick.
"Since I helped you down there," he said, his voice dropping to something rough and intimate, "why don't you return the favor? Wrap those pretty lips around my cock and suck me like you mean it."
Lana understood her task.
Her hands moved before her mind fully caught up, reaching out to wrap around his thick length.
It was hot against her palm, impossibly so, and she could feel the pulse of blood beneath the velvet skin.
She weighed him, explored him with one hand while the other cupped his heavy balls, marveling at the weight of him, her own pussy clenching in anticipation.
A loud gulp escaped her throat. "Fuck, you're thick. This thing is gonna ruin me."
She said a quick, silent prayer to whoever might be listening-and dove in, swallowing his cock like her life depended on it, her lips stretching around his girth.
*********
The sounds that filled the tent after that were obscene.
"Hmm-umm-ugh-"
Gagging.
Wet, rhythmic friction.
The slick slide of flesh on flesh as Clark's hips moved, fucking her face with controlled, relentless strokes.
"Gulg-gulg-chuk-"
Lana's eyes had fluttered half-shut, tears pricking at the corners as she took him deeper, her hands clamped onto Clark's thighs for stability as he held her head steady.
His fingers were tangled in her hair-not pulling, not hurting, but guiding, and she was grateful for it because her coordination had fled somewhere around the third inch of his massive flesh.
He was careful.
She could feel the restraint in the tension of his thighs, the way his hips stuttered sometimes instead of thrusting deeper down her fucking throat.
He didn't want to hurt her, and some distant part of her appreciated that even as the rest of her focused on breathing through her nose and relaxing her throat around his invading cock.
His flesh was already slick with her spit and his own precum, glistening in the little bit of light.
From the corners of her mouth, foamy mixture spilled out, tracing down her chin, dripping onto the tent's mat below.
The sight of it, the lewdness of it, only seemed to spur him on.
The fat head of him bumped her throat, retreated, pushed forward again, stretching her mouth and her throat.
Each time, she fought the gag reflex, swallowed around his invading flesh, and felt him groan in response.
"Ugh-damn it, Lana," Clark grunted, his voice strained and rough. "Huh-your mouth is fucking perfect-so warm and wet-take it deeper, yeah, just like that-"
She couldn't respond, could only hollow her cheeks and try to meet his rhythm, slurping and sucking like a whore, her tongue working the underside of his shaft, and then he reached his climax, cuming with a sharp, broken sound that she felt vibrate through his whole body.
"Gulp-gulp-gulp-"
Rope after rope, hot and thick, flooding her mouth.
She swallowed desperately, tapped his thigh when it became too much, and he released her head immediately, letting her pull back with a gasping, messy cough.
"Cough-cough-gag-"
Spit and cum spilled from her lips as she struggled to catch her breath, but Clark wasn't finished.
His orgasm continued, his cock jerking in his fist as more ropes painted her flesh-across her cheek, her shoulder, her forehead, tangling in her hair and striping her tits.
By the time he finished, she was absolutely covered in his jizz, marked and messy and still trying to process what had just happened.
"Fuck," she panted, wiping at her face and only succeeding in smearing his cum further. "You fucking came everywhere-my hair, my tits, I'm covered in your seed-"
Clark let out a long, satisfied sigh and dropped to his knees beside her, chest heaving.
They stared at each other in the sudden silence.
Lana dumbfounded and dripped with his seed, her flesh still flushed and sensitive while Clark was panting and pleased.
Then, simultaneously:
"Pfft-Hahaha,"
Lana snorted.
Clark barked a laugh.
The tension broke completely, and they were both laughing, breathless and giddy, the absurdity of the moment washing over them like a wave.
When their laughter finally faded, she glanced down at his cock-because of course she did-and felt her eyebrows climb toward her hairline.
It was still hard.
Standing proud and thick and ready, like he hadn't just emptied his balls all over her flesh.
"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered, her own empty cunt throbbing at the sight.
Clark followed her gaze and sighed, though she noticed he didn't look particularly upset about it.
Then his eyes found hers, and that smirk was back, the one that made her stomach do dangerous things.
"I guess it's time for the main course, then," he said, reaching down to give his cock a slow stroke. "Gonna fill that tight pussy up, Red. Shove every inch of this cock into your wet little cunt and make you take it. Gonna stretch that vagina wide."
"Nah, uh-uh." Lana shook her head, still trying to scrape jizz out of her hair with limited success. "There is no fucking way you're fucking me when I'm covered in your cum and spit. I can feel your jizz dripping down my tits, Clark, pooling in my navel."
"What?" Clark pressed a hand to his chest, feigning hurt. "But I thought you loved my cum. You swallowed it so nicely. Your pussy is probably dripping at the thought of taking my load."
"I don't care. I need a bath right now." She crossed her arms, realized that just pressed more mess against her skin, and uncrossed them with a huff. "After that, you can fuck me all you want. Shove that monster cock in my cunt and ruin my pussy, fill my vagina with your seed, I don't fucking care-just let me wash your jizz off my flesh first."
The words came out bold, brazen, and she watched Clark's cock twitch in response, visibly throbbing harder at the promise, precum beading at the tip again.
Before she could react, before she could even breathe, he swept her up in a princess carry again.
Lana shrieked, her arms flying around his neck out of pure reflex.
"Gasp! You fucking bastard-how many times do I have to tell you to warn me?"
"Well then, dear princess," Clark laughed, and she felt the vibration of it against her bare, cum-sticky skin, "buckle up for your bath. It's going to be a bumpy ride."
Then he was moving, the world blurring around them as super-speed carried them out of the tent and into the cool night air.