Fast Lane

TITLE: Fast Lane

AUTHOR: Midknight

CHAPTER: 1 of ?

FANDOM: Smallville

SHIP: Clark / Lois

RATING: NC-17

CATEGORY: Erotica

SPOILERS: A couple, Season Three

UNIVERSE: What if Lois met Clark during his Red Kryptonite summer between the end of Season 2 and the beginning of Season 3 while she is going through a rebellious phase of her own.

DISCLAIMER: None of these characters belong to me. They belong to The WB and whoever else does. I pay homage to them and I make no profit from this story in any fashion, way or means.

AUTHORS NOTE: I apologize before hand and hope you will forgive any errors or blatant discrepancies.

FEEDBACK: Yes Please. It helps. It really, really helps. - midknight_tales@yahoo.com

CHAPTER ONE

Metropolis, Club Dare, Late

She threw her hands up towards the lights and writhed to the music. It was so good to be free and out from under The General's thumb. If she had done her job right he was still looking for her in Las Vegas. It had taken a lot of effort and she had to max out her credit cards, well actually his credit card, she grinned wickedly, to pull it off, but she had bought her self at least three weeks of freedom. She gave herself a little mental pat on the back and let the music take control of her body. Her blue silk dress caresses her skin as it shifts while she dances. Half an hour later she was hot, sweaty, thirsty and happier than she had been in a long while. And, also ready to hit the bar.

She weaved her way through the crowded club. The place was filled to capacity and it was a kind of a bump and grind journey. She didn't mind so much, she did a little more groping than getting groped by the time she made it to the bar. Someone knocked into her back and she in turn slammed into a guy already at the bar. He didn't even budge, but she had to clutch at his shoulder to regain her balance. When she looked up he was looking at her over his shoulder.

He is wearing dark trousers and a white shirt with its sleeves rolled up, both simple, but both expensive as are his shoes and the Tag Heur watch at his wrist. "If you wanted me to buy you a drink, all you had to do was ask." He told her with a flashing white grin and a glint in his clear, pale blue eyes. "If I wanted you to buy me a drink, it would already be in my hand." She bantered, but didn't take her hand from his shoulder. "TouchŽ." He acknowledges with a nod and turned to make space for her at the bar. "What'll it be... errrm?" he enquired as to what she wanted to drink and what her name was with a questioning tilt to his head. "Lois, Lois Lane and a Long Island Iced Tea would be divine." She replies. He gestured to get the bargirl's attention and took her hand and placed a light kiss on the back of it. "I'm Clark, pleased to meet you, Miss Lane." he introduced himself. She raised an eyebrow, still feeling the slight tingle on her skin where his lips had touched it. "Smooth. Does that usually work for you?" she asked letting her tone convey her amusement. He flashed her a mischievous grin. "It has." he replied finally catching the bargirl's eye and ordering her drink and a Heineken for himself.

"So, Lois, Lois Lane... What would work on you?" he asks as they wait for their drinks. "Wouldn't you like to know." She retorts, but she makes a show of considering his question as he digs a fat wad of notes out of his pocket and peels off a fifty-dollar bill. Their drinks arrive and he hands over the fifty telling the bargirl to keep the change. The change was way more than the cost of the drinks. "Certainly not that." She finally answers. He frowns at her for a moment and then nods in understanding shaking his billfold. "Never thought so, not for a moment." He informs her. She sips her drink and the cold liquid feels good as it flows down her throat. "That's a start." She tells him, stirring her drink before taking another sip.

He takes a swig from his beer before asking: "So... Lois. What brings you to Metropolis or are you a native?" She continues to sip her drink, studying him. He intrigues her. He didn't seem to be as superficial as the rest of the pretty boys she'd met in Metropolis so far. "I'm here... I'm here on vacation." She answers him, hesitating slightly to pick the right words. "You don't sound very sure." He comments. "Well... It's kinda complicated, but it boils down to the same thing. I'm here to have fun, see the sights and to get away from there. If you know what I mean?" She finds herself explaining. "I can relate." He tells her and she can hear the sincerity in his voice.

The music is still tugging at her body and the drink was cooling her down and re-energizing her. "Let's dance." She told him, finishing her drink in a cool gulp that wets her throat and warmed her stomach. "Oh no I don't..." he protested, but she grabbed his hand and tugged at him. He hardly budged and she knew if he didn't want to, he wouldn't be going anywhere. Yet, even with his protestations, he drained his beer and succumbed to her tugging, letting her drag him onto the dance floor.

He wasn't much of a dancer, but he was a solid body to press up against as she writhed and undulated to the music. After a while he got into it and they moved in unison, his body pressed to her back, his hands caressing the curve of her hips, hovering between innocent and not so innocent. She could feel the fair sized bulge at his crotch pressing against her as or small of her back and she knew his interests were definately less than innocent. She toyed with him, grinding back against him as she continued to sway to the music. She threw her arms up and wrapped her hands around his neck, lightly linking her fingers and she felt him lower his head, his breath hot against her neck. "Enjoying yourself?" he asked right into her ear and then lightly bit her earlobe and placed his lips lightly on the skin of her neck. Her answer was to grind back against him a little harder. She felt his lips on her skin shift into a smile.

One of his hands slid from her hip to press firmly against her crotch, the tips of his fingers curving, pressing the fabric of her dress between legs and caressing her sex, massaging warm pressure into her through her clothes. His other hand slid up over her belly, over her ribs and cupped her breast, squeezing and fondling it through the smooth material of her dress and the bra underneath. She gave a little gasp of surprise at his brazenness on the crowded dance floor, but his hands felt really, really good on her and her reflex impulse to break from his grasp and slap him died as she felt her body react. "Guess that ends the shy part of tonights programme." She thought. She had already been a little turned on before, but with the gentle urging of his hands she felt her nether lips flower open and her panties grew damp as her sex clenched and her cream dripped from her channel. The skin of her breasts tightened and her nipples scraped against the inside of the lace cups of her bra as they grew and hardened into the pressure from his warm palm causing tickling, electric sensations to radiate into her chest.

Her hips continued to move, now pressing her not only against the growing bulge in his pants behind her, but also into the warmth of his hand. She leaned back, resting her head on his shoulder, letting his hard body support hers. It was a hot Summers night in Metropolis and the club was crowded beyond the capacity for its air-conditioning to handle and with the added stimulation of his hands on her and his body against her, she felt hot and flushed. She felt sweat spring up on her sensitized skin and the occasional heavy drop trickle down her back or snake it's way down her chest and between her breast. And, still, she moved to the throbbing, pulsing beat of the music. She was openly being felt up in the middle of a crowded dance floor and she simply didn't care.

She was an impulsive girl. She knew that, but never with something like this. She'd met him hardly an hour ago, but there was something about him, she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She knew where this was heading and the few weak arguments her mind presented against it were savagely crushed by the pleasure she was feeling from his caressing hands. His lips left her skin and she felt the tip of his tongue trace the shell of her ear. "Does this work for you?" he asks, but doesn't give her a chance to answer before continuing: "Want to get out of here?", again nipping at her earlobe and causing a shiver to work its way down her spine. She nodded, suddenly not quite trusting her voice. "Lois? What are you getting yourself into?" she asked herself as he took his hands from her body and took one of hers from his neck and, spinning her, led her through the crowd to the club's exit.

"My purse, it's checked in behind the bar." She told him resisting his lightly tugging hand and he changed direction, heading for the bar. Once there, she gets her purse and with a gesture the bargirl hands him a bottle of Chrystalle and two champagne flutes. She raises an eyebrow and he holds up both his hands with a shrug and a grin that make her chuckle. He holds out his hand and nods to the door. She mimics his shrug and grin, and then takes his hand and allows him to lead her to the exit.

There is a cab waiting at the curb and he opens the door for her and she skides in. He follows her and gives the cabbie an uptown address. "So, Clark Errrrrrrrrrr.. Where are you taking me?" she requests his full name and their intended destination. "Clark Kent... And, we're going to my apartment." He answers in a matter-of-fact tone. "You're cocky, aren't you?" she queries. "I'd thought you'd felt that on the dancefloor, Lois." He comments with a chuckle and she can't help, but laugh as well. "You're hot. I'm hot, so..." he starts. "And, modest too." She interupts and he flashes her a mischivious grin. "Witty, now as I was saying: We're hot and my building has a swimming pool on top of it. It should be deserted and we could... cool off and enjoy this." He finished holding up the bottle and glasses. "Oh... But I don't have a suite" She counters. "I thought we'd just use the ones we got for our birthday." He suggests. "Now who's being witty, Mr Kent? Birthday suites, really?." She comments with a wry chuckle, "And, what makes you think I'll just go skinny dipping with you?" she queries primly. "Well, Lois, I'll let you know, right now, that skinny dipping is the least of the things I am thinking of doing with, and for the record to you, but it's a good start. And, this is what makes me think you'll be more than accomodating." He explained before swooping down and capturing her lips with his.

She made a token show of resistance, but then melted against him as her head shifted to the side and she opened her mouth under his to allow his probing tongue to slip into it. She moaned into his mouth as he pulled her closer to him, his hand sliding lightly up along the inside of her thigh. Her hand found the back of his neck and she let her fingers slide into his hair, scraping her fingernails lightly along his scalp. The bottle pressed between them was cold against her breasts and she can feel him hard, hot and bulging against her thigh. He sucked and nipped at her lower lip and then their tongues dueled back and forth between their mouths. His fingers found the crotch of her panties and rubbed along her slit through the thin, damp layer of lace. His thumb circles and then rubbed her clit with steady pressure and her hips rocked, grinding against his exploring hand without her conscious permission. She felt herself growing even wetter and then he broke the kiss and took his hand from between her legs as sudenly as he had started.

She finds herself breathing heavily, almost panting and her heart is pounding. "That, and of course, this." He tells her and he holds two of his fingers up between them. They glisten wetly in the low light of the cab and she can smell the spice of her arousal as she watches him suck his fingers clean with a satisfied smack of his lips. She doesn't say anything and he doesn't seem to expect an answer. She wants to slap the smug look off his face, but at the same time cannot deny that he is right. She can't quite explain why she is going along with it, but she has a feeling she is in for a wild ride, figuratively and most likely litterally and, that she is fully intending to let herself enjoy it.

TO BE CONTINUED