Author: The Satyr Icon
Rating: NC-17... NChlark, Icon Style!
Pairing: A pairing Chloe and Clark's body parts
Warnings: Warning: EXTREME, Highly Sexual content
Spoilers: Set somewhere in the Icon AU
Short Summary: Chloe and Clark spend the afternoon inside...
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters--if I did, you'd be very happy!...
Word Count: 1470
Dedication: My fans!
The Satyr Icon
After the sex, when the cries and moans were finally silent, when their bodies stopped slamming into each other, when the sweat on their bodies dried and their hot skin cooled, when Chloe was finally, completely spent, that is when Clark was his most devious in bed. She may have been sated, but his sweet-tooth was not.
It was Winter time in Smallville and Chloe Sullivan was curled up on her bed, Clark Kent laying beside her, both letting the heater, thermostat set on high, whoosh gusts of warm air on them. The cold, harsh weather of the season had nothing on these two; despite the cold-snap, they still shed their clothes, and increasingly their inhibitions, and fuck. Yes, they loved each other dearly, in sweet and sappy way that pissed off their friends Pete Ross and Lana Lang.
"But, do you two fuck?", Lana wondered aloud one late night during a girl-talk/gossip session/register closeout at the Talon, to which Chloe bashfully smiled and said, "Maybe."
Maybe? The blonde's toothy smile hid the truth: certainly they fucked, and they fucked with abandon, with urgency, with a near-impossible need to feel each other's flesh, to make each other cum, cum hard, cum more...more... one more, baby.
And when Chloe was done, that is to say, when Chloe couldn't cum, couldn't orgasm, couldn't withstand more more thrust of Clark's cock, or couldn't withstand one more stroke of his fingers, or one more demanding look from his eyes, and listen to his voice urging her for One More, For Me, she curled up.
"Rest," she whispered, begged, demanded, hoped. "Sleepy."
"Ok." Clark grabbed a pillow that was flung to the floor after it was used as a cushion under her tummy one time or more, laid back in the moist sheets, his body this close, so close to her, but not touching. "Take a nap. I'll wake you up in an hour."
"Mmm." Chloe smiled, her eyes closed. "Thank you."
She wiggled and Clark laid his hand on her ass, and she settled, pulling the pillow closer, too exhausted to cover up.
It always surprised Clark how fast this girl could go to sleep. One second she could be frantically chasing down a lead, a tip, or, the farm boy blushed with the thought, vigorously fuck and then...he looked over. She was sleeping on her side, completely out, a peaceful and serene look on her face, her body motionless.
It was Clark's turn to smile. Chloe's body? A wonderland of curves and softness. No, it was more than some amusement park. To Clark, Chloe was a religion and Clark was a believer. He had yet to pray today, to pray at her temple.
Five minutes was a long time, but Clark waited that long ('She really does need to rest,' he actually reasoned) until he started to move slowly, not wanting to wake her...yet. He took a deep breath and tugged on the crest of her hipbone. He was ready to say a fly or something, anything was on there and he was brushing it off if she woke, but 'Thank You God,' he thought when Chloe rolled over. One part of him was happy she rolled over, but the other part was saddened; he no longer had a view of her ass. He did caress her asscheek before he moved her; he sighed, he was enamored with her bottom. But, he moved on.
He winced when the bed creaked while he slid to the foot of the bed and took hold of her ankle. Chloe stirred, just a smidgey, but she gave no resistance when he pulled her leg wide. Clark swallowed and edged in between her thighs, knowing what he wanted, happy to be allowed access to there. He looked at the skin on her thigh, looked at the near invisible hairs, looked at the moles (she calls them that), looked at the beauty marks (he called them that; "You're so beautiful, thats why there's a lot," he reasoned. She smiled and thought, 'I just fell for him again.'), and ...sniffed.
Chloe had different scents. Yes, there were perfumes and body washes, and stuff like that, but she had this scent to her. He would sniff her neck, her arm, her hair a few times during the day (and at night, too). She called him a nut, but did she ever swat him away? Never. The scent was richer now, of course, right after sex; heady, powerful, altogether Chloe, all the more intoxicating to Clark. Clark closed his eyes and breathed her in.
And his mouth watered.
Clark opened his eyes, and Chloe's temple, Chloe's place of worship, a place to be worshiped, was ...just...a...tongue...tip...away.
The brown and blond hairs that were Chloe's badge of puberty? Gone. She shaved smooth, because Clark was smooth too, and maybe the razor burn was a pain in the ass, and grooming every day in the morning shower was chore, but she liked it and Clark? He loved it.
He let his tongue slide from between his teeth, his hands, his arms sliding under Chloe's thighs. She didn't wake, even when he clasped her hips again, even when her thighs spread out wide, past his shoulders. The tip descended over the puffy shaved mound, right above the glistening slit, above the wet lips and touched Heaven, touched her clitoris.
Chloe's clit was still swollen and sensitive and, when the moist tip of Clark's tongue brushed it, the pink nub sent a shock wave to the slumbering girl. Her eye shot open and hips jerked but Clark held her to him.
"Clark!" She couldn't move. He looked up at her, his mouth now sucking at her cunt, his mouth hungry. She sat up as best she could, her stomach tight. "Too much, baby...it's too much!"
'Anoint Me,' He thought, his prayers yet unanswered. He simply laid his hand on her breast bone and pushed her down. "Fuck," she said, laying back, giving in. The sensations were too much, but her body betrayed her and her mind agreed: she wanted to feel Clark there. She loved to suck on his cock, but damn it to Hell, he loved her pussy covering his mouth; they complemented each other perfectly. "OhMyGod!"
Clark felt her cunt squish in his mouth, his lips and teeth closing on it, pulling on her lips. He licked and nibbled and pushed his mouth into her, pushing her clit between his teeth, teasing it, prodding it, caressing it, battering it with his tongue. He sucked and rubbed it, tasting the oiliness, the nectar seep from within her and sustain him. It was sweet, different, unique, and flavor known only to him. He drank from her fount, holding her wrists now, letting her hips buckle, feeling her rub her cunt on his mouth, nose, eyes, cheeks.
"Say it," she seethed, her teeth clenched, ready, ready, ready.
"Cum for Me," he said, his lips rubbing on against her. His voice was muffled, but she knew what he said; He had to say it, it wasn't the same if he didn't.
Her fingernails dug into his wrist and she arched her back, shoving her cunt onto his tongue, and ...
The first one was a spark of an orgasm, like the first burst of a firework in the sky. Then, they rumbled through Chloe, two, three and four on top of each other, each one distinct and wavy and ripply. Clark felt her thighs snap shut on his ears, felt the twinges in her thigh muscles, saw her body contract and release, felt his mouth and nose covered by her wet slick mound, and he rode her, with her through the orgasms. She fell back, her ass squirming on the bed, moving until the last orgasmic ripple smoothed out. He pulled away slowly and moved next to her. He rubbed her tummy. She glared at him for a second but then smiled.
"Couldn't help it," he said, his voice thick.
"Can't get enough, huh?" she whispered, voice tiny.
"Uh-uh," he smiled and reached over to her dresser and grabbed her clock. She watched him and smiled when he set the alarm; it felt good to nap with him. What would sleeping with him through the night be like? She couldn't wait.
"Did you like the card?" He asked, his voice suddenly boyish, unsure.
"Yes, I loved it," She answered and scooted next to him and kissed him, gentle and sweet.
"And the chocolates?"
Chloe rolled on her side, wiggled and Clark held her this time, close, possessively, and she drifted off to sleep, and he did the same, each other's Valentine, each other's not only for today, but always.