Title: Popping the Cork (Nourishment: Second Helpings 15)
Author: Janet F. Caires-Lesgold
Feedback to: jfc@freeshell.org
Archive: Mailing list archives only--others please ask permission!
Category: Story, Chloe POV
Spoilers: None ever anymore
Rating: M (adults only due to sexual content)
Pairing: Clark/Lex established relationship
Summary: Happy New Year!

DISCLAIMER: These characters do not belong to me. Smallville is the property of Alfred Gough, Miles Millar, Tollin-Robbins Productions, and Warner Bros. Television, and based upon characters originally created by Jerome Siegel and Joe Shuster. This story is just for the entertainment of my online friends and myself, not for any profit.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: All parts of "The Nourishment Series" and "Second Helpings", which precede this story, can be found elsewhere on this archive - Enjoy!

AUTHOR'S ADDENDUM: The show as we knew it no longer exists--we've gotta write it ourselves now.

DEDICATION: For Sandra, who is having a crummy winter.

COPYRIGHT: (C) Janet F. Caires-Lesgold, March 6, 2006, jfc@freeshell.org

Please don't redistribute or alter this story in any way without the express permission of the author. Thank you very much.



Lex is beautiful naked. His skin is so pale and his limbs so lithe and finely-muscled. What a sublime picture he makes on black leather! Of course, having Clark there, too, didn't hurt the image a bit...

It serves me right for not having any plans on New Year's Eve, and for expecting to have the place all to myself. I may have been a little drunk when I was wandering through the mansion, since my dad had okayed some of the better champagne with dinner, and I might have snuck an extra glass or two when he wasn't looking. Whatever the explanation, I didn't have much of a thought in my head at all that night, aside from maybe catching some TV and some Zs later.

There is a plasma screen beauty in Lex's study within view of the fireplace, so after I'd put on my flannel pajamas, I headed there to see if the big ball had dropped in Times Square yet. Once I got there, well, I found that something sure had dropped, but it had nothing to do with New York City! I'm getting ahead of myself...

A nice fire was crackling on the hearth, so I padded into the room in my warm slippers, having learned from experience that the marble floors are cold on bare feet. I scooted around the grand piano and came up short when I saw the tableau on the leather sofa.

There were Clark and Lex, their clothes mostly scattered on the floor, though I think a shirt had been employed to reduce friction with the leather upholstery, and they were, well, "celebrating". In the missionary position.

At one point in my life, this sight would have sent me racing out of the room and storming back to my bed, where I would have cried myself to sleep. When I was a little younger, I might have been sufficiently shocked merely to stand there with my mouth hanging open.

However, at the ripe old age of eighteen, the presence of two men having sex in front of me neither broke my heart nor horrified me. On the contrary--I found it fascinating. I was never sheltered very much, but I'd just never looked at a lot of pornography of any kind. Maybe the idea of seeing unfamiliar faces make those kinds of expressions didn't interest me very much.

Yet here were two of my best friends in the world, about whom rumors ran rampant but who remained pretty silent to others about their relationship, wrapped up in nothing but each other, and I couldn't take my eyes off of them. Clark was on top, his butt round and taut and moving with singular intent. His skin looked summer golden even in the depths of winter, especially contrasted with the pink cast of his lover's body.

Lex lay beneath him, clutching him around the waist with his thin yet strong legs. His right hand threaded into Clark's hair, and I soon realized that, with his left, he was jacking himself off. They alternated between exchanging tender kisses and breaking to make soft yet impassioned vocalizations.

My reaction surprised me a little. I admit that I have carried a torch (ha) for Clark for years, one not entirely dampened by his brief fling with my buddy Lana nor my spying of his romantic dance with Lex at his sixteenth birthday party. Perhaps the opportunity to see his beautiful body in its entirety had an effect on me.

Lex has never been more to me than a friend, but I couldn't miss his easy sexiness, even with inanimate objects. To see him so exposed and touching Clark the way I'd often imagined he wanted to do was the perfect revelation of his true self.

I had not moved since I first spotted them making love on the sofa, except maybe to get a better visual angle without disturbing them. The polished wood of the piano pressed against my hip, and I found myself leaning against it for support in case my knees buckled from sheer erotic overload. At least its wheels were locked, so I wouldn't suddenly find myself flat on my back, no matter how much I might have preferred that position.

It's possible that the bubbly played its part, as well, because I heard my breath catch in arousal and felt tiny beads of perspiration form between my breasts. Basically, watching my crush fucking his boyfriend made me hornier than I'd ever been in my life!

Apparently, they hadn't noticed me standing there, so I took advantage of this singular opportunity to benefit as much as I could from the stimulating scene. I couldn't help myself: I reached inside my pajamas to pet my clit, which was firm and hot between my legs. Dipping further back, I gathered some of my juices on my fingers, then rubbed them in a familiar stroke over my sensitive button. My other arm wrapped around my chest, catching both erect nipples against the inside of my wrist and elbow, as I bit my lip and kept watching the floor show.

I tried to be as quiet as possible, but I might have let out a tiny whimper of pleasure in spite of myself as the pressure built in my belly. Orgasm was close, and I coaxed my body onwards without fear. But then my gaze fell on something unexpected: Lex's eyes, which, while dark and almost sleepy in sexual abandon, fixed on me like the barrel of a hunter's shotgun.

My hand sped up, and my breath grew heavier when I noticed him smile at me, his face pleased and rapt at my actions in his presence. With that, I broke into pieces, coming in waves that threatened to bowl me over like the tide on a beach.

When I was able to focus again, I watched as his eyes slipped shut and he grimaced, pulling harder at his cock, which spilled thick fluid over his hand. Clark thrust over and over, then with a deep groan plunged into Lex and stilled except for a shudder that ran visibly down his spine.

As soon as I could walk, I scurried out of the room as quickly and as quietly as my slippers would carry me and ran back to my room, tucking myself immediately into bed with visions of gorgeous maleness vivid in my mind, promising to make short work of masturbation in the future.

I may still be harboring a secret crush on Clark, but Lex is simply beautiful naked, moreso than I ever could have imagined. Happy new year, indeed.



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