Two Blondes Walk Up To A Superman update

In a flash, Clark had taken her up on her offer, not that Karen was making a fight of it. He plopped Karen down on her heels, spun her around, and shoved her against a water heater so fast that she barely managed to get her hands up to catch herself in time. Karen cooed at his roughness, swaying her hips deliciously to show that not only did she approve, but she found it all quite arousing as well.

“It’s funny how you’ve chosen to date the one man who can overpower you,” Clark said, running his hand through her hair, down the nape of her neck, over the strong muscles of her back, and down to the thin covering of her shorts. It was all so tempting—as much as his hand would’ve loved to stay and linger on any one portion of her anatomy, the rest of it called out to him irresistibly.

“But you never would.” Karen twisted, looking up at him over her shoulder before rising a little ways to kiss his chin. “Unless I asked nicely…”

There was such a wealth of options available for Clark to enjoy that it was impossible for him to make his mind up. He could only decide, finally, on simply choosing whatever way of fucking her seemed most likely to please Karen, in thanks for the generosity of her sharing her perfect body with him.

And judging by the way she was still snapping her ass from side to side, rolling it slowly to draw the eye to the exuberance of its curviness through those shorts that clung to her round buttocks like the skin of an orange…

Clark bunched his fist in the seat of her pants, jerking it down around her thighs with a sharp motion. Exposed, Clark couldn’t help but be amazed by how the inner curvature of her buttocks was even sweeter and more succulent than her tight clothing had made it appear, a peach that cried out in all its juiciness to be devoured before it lost one bit of its ripeness. He ran his fingers over the firm flesh, squeezing, rubbing, and Karen cooed, her teeth snapping animalistically as she quivered in his hand.

Even for as considerate a man as Clark Kent, it took him a moment to realize Karen was staring pointedly at him. The look and feel of her ass tended to drown out other considerations. He made eye contact with her again, giving her ass a firm pat as he did. 

Karen grinned at his audacity. If any other man had touched her that way… “Just so you know,” she said. “I’m not Lois Lane. I don’t want to be made love to. I want to be fucked. I wanna be yours.”

Clark grinned himself at Karen’s boundless confidence. She really was one hell of a woman, even putting aside her awe-inspiring figure. Asking for what she wanted as eagerly as she showed off what she had—it was something even Clark at times felt too mild-mannered for.

“That’s the idea,” he agreed, his voice husky, as he moved fully behind Karen, shifting his right hand to the right and putting his left hand on her left buttock, kneading the two exquisite mounds as he opened them up, revealing she was wet from her womanhood to her taint. Beneath her supple ass, her shorts stretched even tauter around her thighs, the perfect finishing touch on the picture of her naked backside. Only…

Clark took hold of her shirt, cropped to only inches below her bust, and rolled its hem up over those famous breast. Karen smirked knowingly as the action pulled her tits up even higher than they usually were. When the shirt was up around her collarbone, they dropped, freed from its weak confines to bounce and jiggle before coming to a rest. It was an incredible reminder of the full heft of her cleavage, as Clark could see their contours swaying even from behind her broad, muscular back. He bit the inside of his cheek in sheer lust, his cock fuming with precum as hot as lava. There were Kryptonian meditational techniques that could reduce the forcefulness of his ejaculation and the raw power of his lovemaking, but Clark wouldn’t bother with those.

As Karen had said, she wanted to be fucked.

“It’s amazing to me,” Clark said, sparing one last look at the lower contours of her hourglass figure, her wide hips every bit as voluptuously tempting as her enormous breasts. “You wear a leotard into battle, and yet an ass as delectable as yours never seems to get the attention it deserves.”

Karen bit her lip, knowing that Clark was drawing things out purely to tantalize her. As he had said, he was the one man on Earth who could definitively overpower her—and also the one man who could deny himself around her for any amount of time. Even Batman was only human… Clark was so much more, in every capacity. “What can I say? The view from the front ain’t no slouch.”

“No, it isn’t.” Clark ran a hand around her ribs to caress the side of her breast, pushing it gently against its twin like an infinitely bigger example of Newton’s Cradle. “And maybe from that empty hole in front, people think you’re trying to draw attention to your, ah, more well-rounded attributes…”

“Speaking of empty holes,” Karen said, and gave her ass an insistent shake. Her shorts slipped another inch down her firm thighs.

“You know what I think?” Clark asked, clapping his hands on her hips. Karen closed her eyes blissfully. This was it! “I think we should see about making that ass a bit more attention-grabbing.” 

“It’s the grabbing part I wish we could get on wi—“

Suddenly, Clark’s hand chopped down, whistling as it swung through the air. The flat of his palm powered into Karen’s bare buttocks, forcibly impacting them with strength that could’ve overturned a bus. Karen gasped as the raw power of the blow rippled through her fleshy cheeks, inner reverberations scoring inside her aroused sex like she was sitting on a boombox going at full blast. It stung like hell at the same time it took her completely by surprise with pleasure, the masochistic enjoyment she felt simply something she had never experienced before. Most men were just not strong enough to cause her pain, anymore than they were strong enough to give her pleasure.

Clark Kent wasn’t most men.

With her own superhuman senses, Karen was aware of the reddened handprint Clark had left on her ass, blooming hotly as her flesh reacted to the violent love-tap. And even as she gaped in shock, Karen knew that Clark had only used a fraction of his strength.

Clark gave her ass another fond pat, his light touch stimulating the aching embers of the bruise he had left. Karen bit her lip in equally hot arousal. It was no wonder he’d sprung this on her when Linda wasn’t around to join in. This seemed way too adult for even the twentysomething to get in on.

“Well?” Clark asked, with a smugness in his words that contradicted his belated request for consent. He knew as well as she did how much he’d just turned her on. He could see how the folds of her cunt were clenching inside her, smell the copious arousal that was flooding her mons… “Would you be interested in that—or should I just fuck you?”

Karen had to roll her lip out from between her teeth before she bit clean through it. She was suddenly very grateful Clark had taken his time before getting his rocks off. “We should have lunch together more often.”