Encounter 1: Lois
At long last the final deadbolt was undone. Trying to keep the teetering mountain of grocery bags balanced in her arms, the woman fumbled for the doorknob and shouldered the door open. She made a desperate dash for the counter, managing to set the bags down, but not before an errant can of mandarin oranges slipped out and rolled dangerously close to the counter's edge. The woman took a deep breath, and turned to the full length mirror set into the back of the closet door. She smiled and shook her head in amusement.
"Still hanging in there, eh, Lois?"
Lois Lane, premiere investigative reporter for the country's most prestigious newspaper, The Dailey Planet, smoothed out her long gray trench coat. Maybe it was no longer in style, but Lois held a romantic notion of reporter's fashion. She also did not mind the way it subtly wrapped around her figure. Neither did the average man, from the occasional whistles she got walking home. That was fun in its way, but...
A scraping sound brought Lois out of her reverie. She turned, slightly startled, and looked for the strange sound's source. Gazing across the apartment, she saw nothing out of place. Just as she was about to dismiss it and begin to sort out the groceries, the sound came again, just as faint. A definite scratching; quiet, but it was not her imagination.
Lois crossed over toward the tall set of windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. The emerald drapes hung down, covering them. As a small breeze came up, Lois realized that one of the windows was open. She reached out to close it when something gripped her hand and she was pulled out.
Beneath her dangling feet, Lois saw 57 other floors of her apartment building recede toward the distant ground bellow. The wind whipped at the hem of her trench coat. She looked up to see what had grabbed her, and she was not afraid.
"Lois." She felt the deep baritone of his voice rumble through his chest and into hers as he embraced her. His red cape fluttered in the wind.
"Clark." She kissed him for a long while, hanging over thin air. Presently she realized there was something hard pressing into her stomach. Glancing down at the red "skivvies" as she liked to call them, she began to grin.
"I need you, Lois." There was a vulnerability in his voice that got to her in ways that his boundless strength never would.
"You have me, Clark." Lois wrapped her hand around his need. "So have me."
* * *
Clark tossed Lois onto the bed, and she made short work of her clothes. In a blur of motion, he removed his uniform. Lois sometimes enjoyed a bit of role-playing during sex, acting as she would have when his dual identity had been unknown to her and he would often leave most of the suit on, but this time he needed to feel as far from "Superman" as he could.
Sensing Clark's desperate need, Lois lay back and spread her legs. Her dark hair shone with a crimson sheen as it lay over her shoulders and breasts. Clark descended on her and, in one smooth motion, entered her. Lois's breath rushed out of her, carrying Clark's name with it. He filled her completely, and she was certain he was holding back. Every time they made love, her expectations were always exceeded. He began to thrust into her, careful not to push too hard. Lois let out a squeal, and bit down hard on Clark's left ear. He felt no pain.
Lois motioned for him to roll over, and began to ride him, whipping her hair back and forth. She clawed her long finger nails down his chest, but they left no mark. Lois took Clark's hands and placed them on her breasts. He squeezed them gently and carefully. Lois felt her orgasm approaching, and cried out.
"Oh, Clark! Yes! It's happening! Oh, yes!"
The pleasure was intense, sending her into a spasm. Seeing stars, she fell onto his chest, gasping for her breath. She turned and saw him gazing at her, smiling gently and his eyes full of love for her. She kissed him tenderly, and her eyes wandered down to his groin. He was still hard, and he had not climaxed, she was certain. She looked back up at him and could finally see a subtle, hidden sadness behind those sky blue spheres. She opened her mouth to say something, but he laid a warm and loving hand over her lips.
"Lois, I love you. With all my heart. When we make love, that's exactly what I consider it. Your pleasure is mine. It doesn't matter whether I can feel anything...down there...or not when we're together. Seeing you...fulfilled is enough for me." He leaned in to kiss her again.
* * *
Later that night Lois lay awake, thinking. She had been satisfied sexually their entire marriage. She never had cause to complain about not reaching her peak, but she had never, not even once, brought Clark to orgasm. It certainly was not due to lack of effort. During their honeymoon, she had ridden him for what seemed like ages. She experienced multiple orgasms, more than she thought possible, until she grew too sore and exhausted to continue. Clark had consoled her then, too. Never complained.
But what could she do? Her human body was incapable of offering his Kryptonian body enough resistance to be effective. She would have to be more than human to...
No. No, he would never agree to that.
But Lois Lane was her own woman.
