Wrestling Her She-Demons

Cat Grant wore a skirt and skimpy halter; no bra or stockings. Her full breasts quivered jubilantly under her halter with each movement. Any red-blooded man would notice that.

But was Clark normal or was he really the cold fish he so often came off as? Cat would soon find out. She went to his office and tapped on the door.

“Just a moment,” Clark sighed impatiently. It was the response Cat expected: he hated having someone interrupt his work.

Cat entered and strode across the room, making sure he got a good look at her bouncing chest. He didn’t even blink. “A date canceled on me, so now I need someone to accompany me to the movies,” she said. “And you’re it!”

“I don’t think Lois would like that much,” Clark said lightly. “Unless you took her, of course. You could make it a girls’ night out.”

“I don’t want a girls’ night out,” Cat said. “I want a man to hold my hand and take my arm… maybe do even more…”

“Well, I’m right in the middle of an article here, Ms. Grant,” he said politely.

“It’s that new period piece,” Cat coaxed him. “In fact, I think you mentioned wanting to see it. And it’s already paid for.”

Clark pinched his lips together, sensing how much she wanted him to oblige her and not wanting to make things awkward. “Well, alright, but only because you already bought the tickets. Next time, plan things out a bit more carefully—otherwise your money will go to waste.”

“Just this once,” Cat smiled. Unless, of course, she decided she liked Clark’s company enough to take him off Lois’s hands. Then she wouldn’t be begging him. He’d be the one begging her.

She drove Clark to the drive-in theater off the highway. The first feature was the historical film and Cat knew better than to interrupt Clark when he was watching that. The second feature came on and Clark glanced at her impatiently.

“I think that’s enough of a break,” he said. “Can we skip this one and get back to the office?”

“Uh-uh,” Cat said. “We watched your movie. Now you have to watch mine.”

There wasn’t much Clark could do, since it was her car. He sat there and tried to pay attention to the picture more than he fumed.

Cat inched closer to him, pretending to be paying attention to the movie too. Slowly she slid her hand down to his crotch and started squeezing his cock.

Clark let out a gasp. “Ms. Grant, what do you think you’re doing?”

Cat looked at him and giggled. “Oh, how silly of me! I forgot who I was with. I thought I was with my boyfriend. I always play with his cock when we’re alone.”

“You do?” Clark asked, sounding stunned.

“Mm-hm,” Cat smiled. “Like this.”

She went on massaging his phallus. Clark was completely lost in the sensation, unable to think of whether he wanted her to quit or go on. Either way, he definitely didn’t ask her to stop.

His prick was quickly swelling, hardening, tenting out the fly of his trousers until there was a huge bulge in his pants, impossible to deny. He looked from it to Cat like he was trying to figure out what one had to do with the other.

“I can’t believe my boyfriend didn’t want to go to the movies with me.” Cat smirked. “Can you?”

“No, I don’t suppose I can,” Clark said, his voice a little husky. “What else do you do with him… at the movies, I mean?”

“We kiss. Have you ever kissed a girl, Clark?”

“Yes! Me!”

Lois Lane was a tall, athletic woman. Her pantsuit was tailored to her toned, but still slender body—showing off the well-formed length of her legs, with their sculpted thighs and calves, and how her arms were tight and taut, filling out her sleeves.

She grabbed hold of the car’s undercarriage and lifted, feeling a burn swelling in her biceps as the immense weight gave into her muscles. She worked out for hours at a time each day; the car was only another set of weights and it surrendered to her efforts, tipping to the side.

Since she was lifting at Clark’s end of the vehicle, Cat slid off him, while Clark gripped the door and held himself in place with the car going nearly vertical.

“Lois, I can explain everything!” Clark insisted with visible nervousness, his face paling at the expression of Lois’s power.

Lois was straining, her face flushed, veins standing out from her neck, and the sound of tearing fabric coming from her upper arms as the sleeves split around bulging biceps. “It’s okay, Smallville,” Lois gritted out. “I know how it is. This Cat is just a slut who can’t stay away from other women’s men!”

She gave the car a shake, jiggling it up and down, until the door Cat was slanted against fell open and she spilled out onto the pavement. Lois set the car down, with a gratified sigh of relief at no longer having to support its weight, while Cat bounded up and circled the car to confront her.

“You’ve got some nerve, thinking you can stick your nose in my business just because you’re some kind of butch freak! Maybe Clark wants a real woman, not some bodybuilder in a business suit, did you ever think about that?”

“Lemme show you what I do to ‘real women,’” Lois retorted, and picked Cat up as easily as she’d grab up a piece of litter from the ground.

Cat could only shriek as, with one hand in the small of Cat’s back and the other under her ass, Lois pumped her up and down. Lifting her and dropping her down like she was a walking, talking dumbbell.

“My gosh, Lois,” Clark breathed, adjusting his glasses. “Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme?”

“Not at all, Smallville.” Lois was not even out of breath; she pistoned Cat up and down as though it were effortless. But she did build up a nice sheen of sweat from exerting herself, like she was jogging in place. “When I teach a lesson, I like to make sure it sticks. And let’s face it, a bimbo like Cat needs all the education she can get!”

Cat was no longer simply being racketed up and down. When Lois lifted, she actually flung her into the air. Then caught her, lowered her a fraction of an inch to wind up, and launched her up high again.

Clark could not help but marvel at Lois’s musculature. The unbuttoned bottom of her blouse had come free from her trousers and with it falling open, he could see her solidly built belly. Even though no abs were obvious, it was clear that the toned, featureless plain of her squared-off stomach could only come from fanatical weightlifting. No wonder Lois was finding it so easy to treat Cat to the ride she was on.

The feeling of power within Lois was invigorating. When she felt the feather-light weight of Cat Grant leave her hands and then return to them, she was astounded at what she was doing. But she sensed there was more. If Cat had wanted to arouse Clark so much, let her. The woman acted like a porn star? Lois would make her one.

She dumped Cat on the hood of the car and threw up her skirt, revealing her ass. Next, she rammed her middle finger into Cat’s pussy. Cat came out of her daze with a scream. The sound of surprise quickly became one of pleasure, even of yearning. She wanted more, which Lois wouldn’t give her. She wasn’t doing this to please Cat, just to turn Clark on. And judging by the promising bulge in Clark’s pants… she and Cat were making one hell of a team.

“Here, Clark,” Lois cooed to him. “Take a look. It was nice of Cat to volunteer her wet pussy for this… here’s how you play with a girl’s cunt. Get a good look, Clark… I’d love it if your hand found its way under my skirt and did this… maybe on a long car ride, or while I was taking a bath.”

After the first shock of penetration, Lois denied Cat a follow-through. She did the bare minimum, teasingly running her fingertip through Cat’s damp folds, in again, out again. Not really fucking her, but making her think about how nice it’d be to be fucked.

“Shit,” Cat moaned, eyes crossing, body jerking, but either willingly or unwillingly, she couldn’t flex hard enough to break loose of Lois.

Lois smirked to herself. Usually, here was where she would lick Cat’s asshole soft, but she wouldn’t give her that—she was being nice enough giving Cat anything when Cat was begging so desperately, so shamelessly, her whole body roiling with enjoyment.

Lois put her cunt-wet finger into Cat’s asshole, tracing the ring of muscle like she was painting it into existence, then dipping inside, pushing past the clench of a hole that wasn’t supposed to be entered. Smiling at Clark, she pumped slow at first, letting Cat get used to the feeling the same way Lois would want to get used to it if Clark were doing this to her.

Then she sped up, stretching Cat out, insisting on her being wide enough for a second finger.

Lois sodomized Cat for a few more moments, then relented and moved her hand to Cat’s clit, pressuring it, making circles that slowly gathered up all Cat’s pain and frustration and desire and anticipation and brought them together in a tingling rush up to climax.

Cat came like a bitch, totally unable to help herself, and like that, it was over. Lois took her hand away for good; she wanted Cat to remember that she could’ve had much more of that, if she’d just held out like a proper woman instead of acting like a whore.

“C’mon, Smallville,” she said, patting Cat on the ass a few times to show no hard feelings. Then smacking it hard enough to leave a flush, because she wanted Cat to remember not to try this shit again. Not without a lot more muscles.

“Let’s go get a cab.”