Less-than-a-maid Marion

TITLE: Less-than-a-Maid Marion

AUTHOR: Midknight

CHAPTER: 1 of 2

FANDOM: Smallville

SHIP: Lois / Oliver

RATING: NC-17

CATEGORY: Erotica

SPOILERS: A couple, Season Six

SYNOPSIS: A different ending for the costumed Lois and Oliver in Season Six, Episode Three, Wither.

DISCLAIMER: None of these characters belong to me. They belong to Warner Bros 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

The Alley behind The Talon, Late

She'd actually enjoyed the costume ball, even if it was hosted by Lex. If she was honest with herself, it definitely had something to do with her infuriating, but hot date. She considered Oliver Queen as he stopped his sports car at the rear entrance to The Talon and her apartment. He was handsome and good-looking and in the tights he was wearing she had enjoyed the view all night, but he was just so damn cocky and sure of himself. He was charming and she was attracted to him and even more so after the evening they had spent together. His moves were subtle at times and blatantly blunt at others and she knew he was interested in her too and here they sat at the end of the evening and there were decisions to be made.

She wouldn't say she was gagging for it, but it had been a while since AC, a long while. "His cocksure smile was just so irking though." She thought and chastised herself for the inappropriate choice of words. He seemed so confident that she was a foregone conclusion and what irked her more was that he was right, but she wouldn't make it that easy for him.

He opened the door for her and she got out of the car taking his extended hand. Why she did what she did next she only guessed she did as some way to assert her authority on the situation, but she gave him a challenge. Sticking with their costumed theme of Robin Hood and Maid Marion she told him he could only kiss her if he could hit a soda can on the dumpster at the end of the alley with his bow and arrow. She was fairly certain he wouldn't be able to make the shot and that would wipe some of the smugness off his face. He most likely wouldn't even attempt it. She figured he'd sweep in and make his move anyway.

He looked at her speculatively for a moment and then said: "Okay." And took his bow and an arrow from the backseat of his car. "Just, to clarify. If I hit that can, I get to kiss you and we see where this, you and me, goes?" he queried, nocking the arrow and pausing. The second part of his question threw her more than a little and the pithy remark she'd had planned never left her lips. "Yes." She answered after a moment. He drew the bow and took aim and Lois suddenly found herself holding her breath and hoping, almost willing him to make the shot. The bowstring twanged loudly in the silence of the alley and the arrow went speeding down the its length. His shot looked good, but she barely stifled her groan of disappointment as the arrow thunked solidly into the wall just above the can.

He lowered the bow and shrugged. "Guess it wasn't meant to be, Miss Lane. So, I'll just bid you a goodnight." He told her as he tossed the bow into the back seat and inclining his head to her. She looked down the ally for a moment. "Why had she issued that stupid challenge? Damn him!" she thought and then said. "Close enough." She literally flew into his arms and their lips met hungrily. She pressed against him as they kissed and he pressed back making them rock back and forth as they explored each other's mouths. His fingers wound into her long, dark hair and his other hand skittered up and down her back. Her fingers tested the hard muscles of his back. She never saw the pull tap of the can spin once around the shaft of the arrow.

They started with short, intense kisses, breaking them to gulp in much-needed air. His tongue slid between her lips and tapped her teeth for entrance into her mouth like some gentleman caller knocking at a door. She granted it with a moan and then her tongue was writhing and fencing with his as they started a longer deeper kiss. She surrendered herself to him, letting his hand in her hair guide the movement of her head and sliding lips. His tights and codpiece hardly hide the switching bulge of his hardening cock as it pressed against her thigh through the material of her dress. The dress itself and the corset she wore underneath were becoming uncomfortable as her body reacted to their tawdry kissing. Her skin felt hot and prickly, finding the material of the dress suddenly rough and scratchy. Her nipples had nowhere to go as they hardened against the constrictively designed undergarment and they tingled as they rubbed against the lined material.

She broke the kiss, both of them breathing heavily. "Let's take this inside." She told him firmly, her libido in full control of her actions. This might have been their first date, but they were both adults and she wanted him. She grabbed his hand and started to pull him to the open back door of The Talon. He resisted her a moment and she turned back frowning to find him trying to switch off his cars lights and get the key out of the ignition. She grinned as he set the car alarm and then succumbed to her efforts to drag him along with her. Just as she entered the doorway he caught up with her, pulling and spinning her back into his arms. He continued to walk them into The Talon as he captured her lips. Her back fetched up against a shelf filled with utensils and there was a clatter of metal hitting the floor. She pushed off the shelf, pressing his back against the wall diagonally from the shelf, and herself hard against his body. Thus, started their bouncing, wall-slamming, ricocheting journey through The Talon's kitchen and up the stairs to her apartment. Their lips found each other's when they could, but they satisfied themselves with whatever skin they could reach as hands explored roughly as, and when they were able.

They finally ended up at her door. Well, more correctly up against her door. She fumbled at the door handle, praying fervently that she had forgotten to lock it, not thinking she could handle the break in their tryst that would be necessary for her to find her keys and unlock it. Someone answered her pray and they nearly fell into her apartment as the door suddenly opened behind them. They were laughing at there own stumbling haste as they collapsed onto the sofa and started making out at a more leisurely pace. Shoes were kicked off and laces, buttons and other fastenings were undone as best they could manage when they could tear their hands and concentration away from more pleasurable pursuits.

Somehow her dress was loose and being pulled off her shoulders and down her body and he wasn't wearing his jerkin anymore either. Her hands find his chest, smooth, hairless and hard. She is thankful she had chosen a modern corset and not the authentic one that had come with the costume. This one has snaps and not laces and she breaths a sigh of relief as his fingers find and release the them, freeing her breasts and fluttering stomach. The corset joins her dress on the floor, leaving her in only her lace panties.

Her freed breasts are like a magnet to his hands and lips and she gasps and murmurs her appreciation of his attentions. His hands fondled and caressed her firm globes sending waves of heat and pleasure radiating into her chest. His fingers left phantom imprints that lingered after they had moved, making her skin tingle. Surges of sensation shot through her when his thumbs found the hard, sensitive nubs of her nipples, rolling them, flicking them, making her breath catch. She hisses the word: "Yessssssssssss!" when his mouth engulfs her nipple in liquid heat. His teeth test the sensitive rubbery flesh before his tongue swipes and swirls its way around it, taking over where his hands has left off. She finds herself pushing her shoulder blades into the plush cushions of the sofa to press her full, firm breasts into his welcome attentions.

His hand leaves the breast that his mouth is entertaining and slides down her body, leaving five, fiery trails along her skin. Her own hands are running up and down his back feeling the smooth skin and sloped planes of the muscles underneath. Occasionally, one or the other ventures up his neck and into his hair, feeling the short blondes hairs sliding through her fingers, or guiding his hungry mouth to where she desired it. Her hips jerk unbidden when his hand slides over the front of her panties and he cups her crotch. She gasps when two of his long, strong fingers slowly start stroking up and down her swollen slit, with only a thin layer of lace between him and her. A, thin layer of lace that is almost immediately soaked as she feels herself contract and flood with her natural cream as his fingers drove heat into her swollen flesh with their pressure.

She works one of her hands between them, scraping her fingernails along his skin, creating a picture in her head of his hard muscled chest and torso as they trace the smooth, well-defines valleys and ridges. He groans into her breast, his lips vibrating against her skin as she runs her hand up the ample bulge at his crotch. She explores his straining shaft through his tights, measuring its length and girth by feel, smiling to herself with the results of her calculations. She can feel him throb and twitch under her touch and she guesses he must be feeling just a little uncomfortable in those tight, tights.

The chorus of the song from Mel Brook's Robin Hood: Men in Tights, flashes through her mind and she chuckles at the inappropriateness of it. He looks up at her questioningly, his blue eyes meeting her hazel ones and his hands, lips and tongue pause. "No, its nothing, Oliver... Please... Please don't stop." She tells him and is surprised at the pleading tone of her voice. She lets her eyes flutter closed, as with a roguish grin and a soft: "Okay.", he returns his attention to ravishing her body.

The hand that had been between her legs over her panties now worms it's way into them. His short, manicured nails scrape her skin as they trail through her pubes and then his long, tapered fingers find their way over her clit and into the hot, moist swamp of her slit. The sensations his fingers had caused over her panties seems to have been only a warm-up as the direct contact floods her nerves with great, racking bursts of pleasure. "Oh good god, Yes!" She moans, enthusiastically, as her body reacts with muscles clenching around his probing digits and a rush of heat and moisture.

Time becomes fuzzy and she doesn't remember how or when; she may have heard fabric tear at one point, but his tights are gone. She doesn't even know if he had anything underneath, she doesn't care, because it is gone too. He is naked and she has her fist wrapped around his thick, hard and slightly curved cock. She skims her hand from base to tip, finding his head slick with the copious amounts of natural lubrication that is oozing out of its slit. She collects the slippery fluid, spreading it around, coating his cock and her hand so that even while applying pressure with a firm, twisting grip, her fist still glides along his length as she jacks him with a steady rhythm. The fingers of her other hand massage his scalp as she guide his head and his lips from breast to breast and, from hard, near-aching nipple to hard, near-aching nipple.

Two of his fingers are sliding in and out of her, twisting and curving to stroke her channel or rubbing up and down the length of her sensitive slit. The place where his fingers meet his palm, mashes and grinds her clit, and puts pressure on the hood behind it. His dexterous manipulations send sparking tendrils of pleasure radiating up into her belly where she can feel the tight ball of energy that is her building orgasm grow. A voice, she hardly recognizes as her own makes a sound of utter dissatisfaction when his lips and hands leave her flesh. She misses his heat and the feel of his skin against hers as he shifts out of her reach, off her and the sofa. A little shiver runs through her as an errant breeze chills his saliva on her breasts and nipples, tightening the skin with prickling goose flesh.

She draws a heavy breath as his lips and hands again begin their onslaught, this time beginning at her calves and working their way upward. His hands test her muscles with warm pressure as they slide and squeeze their way along her legs. His tongue draws a hot, wet line on the inside of her thigh. She is looking down at him over her heaving breasts with the top of his blonde head framed by the hard pink peaks of her nipples. Her hips rock from side to side as he turns his attention to the inside of her other thigh. This time he starts by testing the smooth skin with his teeth with light, but sharp nips and then soothing the sensation with swirling, swipes of his soft, wet and soothing tongue. She feels his breath, hot on the crotch of her panties before he plants a light kiss on the damp gusset between her legs. She hears him inhale deeply and then slowly exhale with an: "Ahhhhhh!" of enjoyment.

Her head lolls against the back of the sofa and she doesn't know what to do with her hands as she watches him with lust filled eyes where he kneels between her legs, adoring her body. Light tremors rack her muscles as the pleasure of his ministrations crawl through her nervous system to pool in her belly, feeding her building orgasm; or curling up her spine to fuel her imagination of things to come. Her skin feels hot and tight and air seems hard to come by when he reaches for the waistband of her panties. He has to tug once or twice before she can muster enough conscious control of her body to lift her ass and let him slide the lace undergarment off her hips and away, leaving her as naked as he is.

TO BE CONTINUED, IF YOU WANT IT TO.