Disclaimers: Not mine, dammit.

Spoilers: Ahaha. No.

Summary: Five smutlets.

Ratings Note: NC-17.

Author's Note: Quick and dirty, mostly to prove I could finish
*something*, no matter how shallow.

Acknowledgments: To Jenn, who's good at keeping me sane,
as is the Spike.

Feedback: Make me smile. teland793@sbcglobal.net

*

Chloe loves sucking dick.

Loves it so much she'd had a big issue about it in her freshman
year. It had felt kinda weird to be in a N.O.W. meeting, tugging
her skirt down over her rug-burned knees, still smelling like sex
and still tasting boy-come.

She'd gone the lesbian route for a bit -- it was pretty much de
rigueur for girls -- young women -- like her, and it wasn't like
she didn't enjoy herself, but...

Dick. Dick, dick, dick. It always came back to that.

Intellectually, she knew she was going to have to get over
herself, like, sooner rather than later, but for the time being...

She bought her oh-so-accommodating roommate a strap-on
from Good Vibes and practiced her technique on silicone,
breathing in girl-sweat and girl-come and her own girlsex
and sucking it hard, sucking it deep.

She looks up through her bangs to watch her roomie go
slack-jawed and stupid with lust and thinking to herself:

Compromise is okay.

*

The first time Lionel kissed Lilly, she'd had to bite her lip to
keep from laughing. This was the great man, the corporate
raider of all corporate raiders? He kissed her like he was
testing her lipstick for poison: careful, and yes, nearly
hesitant. But that was the first kiss.

When she opened her mouth to say something cutting and
final, his tongue slipped in like it belonged there, like *he*
belonged there -- inside her, plundering, yes, and kisses
could, indeed, say all that and more.

She'd come back to herself with her hand in his unfashionably
long hair and his hands... not quite roaming so much as
staking a claim.

He smiled at her like a conqueror, but his eyes were hot and
wild.

She remembers thinking to herself that sex would be a good
idea, after all.

She doesn't entirely remember how a simple and baldly carnal
arrangement between mostly friendly acquaintances had
become an engagement, and then a marriage, but as Lionel
licks a hot stripe up her inner thigh, as he looks at her from
under a fall of long brown hair, looks at her like something
edible and desperately necessary...

Lilly thinks the sex probably had a great deal to do with it.

*

Pete worries about his sexual peak. All the books said it was
coming up damned soon, and what did he have to show for it?

All right, so he had a lot more going than, say, Clark, but still.
He had two years before it all started going downhill, and he
was damned well going to make the most of it. Even if most
of the time that most amounted to locking himself up in the
basement bathroom and jerking off until his wrist was sore.

Really, it wasn't so bad. Pete's the best lover he's ever had --
and so imaginative! That thing with his nipples, and the way it
had led right into thoughts of football practice, and cheerleaders
wearing tight sweaters in the fall, and *fuck* yes.

God, what he wouldn't give to slide his dick between creamy,
soft breasts. Soft enough that he could kind of squish them
against the sides of his dick without hurting the girl and just...
slide.

Slide and slide and *God* come all over her throat and lick it off
and lick her off and --

"Pete! Dinner's ready!"

Okay, so it's a little fucked up that he's apparently programmed
to come at the sound of his mother calling him, but...

At least it's efficient.

*

Clark has a deep, abiding love for Lex's ass.

It really is a great ass, and that's not something he expected.
Lex is, after all, so lean that Clark's mom keeps trying to feed
him and even his dad slips extra veggies in with his regular
order when he thinks no one is looking.

Plus, he never wears jeans or anything, so... yeah. It was a
surprise to see Lex slip out of his clothes the first time, slip
down to lean muscle and pale pale skin and this *sweet* little
round ass that...

It's a good ass. Really tight and firm and with downy little hairs
that make Clark shave extra close -- just so he can get cheek
to (heh) cheek and feel *everything*. He loves the way Lex
tenses when he's lying flat on his stomach and Clark gets close
enough to just breathe on that sensitive spot at the base of his
spine. Tenses up hard and then visibly relaxes all over and then
tenses up again at the first touch and -- Clark thinks he might
be getting good at this.

This sex thing. Because he knows just how to make Lex moan --
*that* moan, that really good one that sounds like he's breaking
inside -- with just his tongue. Or maybe it's his tongue, and the
way he holds Lex open, the way he cracks him open like some
ripe and strange fruit and dives in.

Stays there, licking up the dark and freakishly *hot* taste. Salt
and oil and musk and *Lex*, and he never wants to stop. Not
ever. Not until he's as deep as he can go and his own body is
confused with it; his cock hard and neglected and his mind
gone on the wet and the nasty and the *good*.

Clark wants to see what would happen if Lex wore the cock
ring while he was doing this. If he could just keep *fucking*
him with his tongue for hours on end, or until Lex had to cry
because it was just that good.

It makes him feel a little guilty to think thoughts like that,
but... it also kinda makes it even better.

Clark grins to himself and cracks open his present.

*

Lana misses living with Nell sometimes. Sure, she still has her
own bedroom, but she used to have her own *floor*. Nell had
had her bedroom downstairs, and there really is nothing like
knowing no one will hear you if you do... things.

And it's not like Lana does it every day, it's not like she's a slut
or anything, it's just...

Well, when she *does* do it, sometimes she has to cry out just
a little. Or take one of those deep, loud breaths that always
make her blush and strain her ears to see if anyone... if anyone.
Well.

But now, she has to think about Chloe, who's right next door.
Whose bed would be right next to hers if the thin, thin wall
wasn't there. Sometimes, when Lana's too sad to sleep and the
night ticks and moves by like a silent wave, she can hear Chloe's
slow, even breaths.

It soothes her to sleep, really.

But sometimes -- well, okay, a lot of the time, and she doesn't
think of Chloe as a slut, it's just -- it's not so quiet and even. It's
jerky breaths and little sighs that wake her up out of shallow
uncomfortable dreams of (heat and wet and dark and salt) things
she doesn't want to think about and.

Well, it's not like she knows for *sure* what Chloe is doing (does
she sound like that when she...?), but the images come to her
mind just the same.

Does she play with herself or is she really casual about it?

Lana can't help but think it would be a shame not to play with
breasts like the ones Chloe has, but then maybe her breasts
are like Lana's -- not nearly as sensitive as they could be. But
still, she *sounds* like she's having fun on those nights. And
Lana wonders if they... if they do it the same way.

Does Chloe like fingers up there? Or does she just rub the little
button? Fast or slow? (fast, she likes it fast you can tell by her
breathing)

And sometimes when she's listening to that, she has to touch
herself, too. Has to try to do what she thinks Chloe would
(she would be rough, and hard), and she comes so hard and
fast that sometimes -- sometimes -- she forgets to muffle her
face in the extra pillow.

And she listens to the silence on the other side of the wall,
and wishes Chloe would stop pretending she doesn't hear.

*