lenore

but the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,

ᯓ ⠀⠀master list.⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀intro.⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀nsfw blog.

and the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "lenore?"

» okay this is seriously just porn without plot and i also haven’t finished season 2 but i had a thought and needed to get it out so pls enjoy and share your dirty thoughts w me thank u

letting dr abbott and dr robby take turns bending you over and fucking you against the bev cart you drive around the local golf course 😮‍💨 you don’t get to see the two older men together often because of their work schedules but when they do have a day off and come play some golf, they’re also betting on playing with your sweet young pussy. the attraction was mutual when you met them months ago and you weren’t past slutting yourself out on a secluded part of your usual trail if it meant having a thick cock driving in and out of your tight wet sloppy pussy reaching spots your nimble fingers couldn’t while the other kept watch for any stragglers. you loved being fucked dumb and being told “such a good girl for us, princess. ah-ah! keep that pretty pussy spread open don’t close those legs!” guys your age just couldn’t compete with the dick game both your older pervy customers had and that’s why you let them abuse your pussy again and again, without fail you’d be happily driving onto your next stop with your panties full of the mixed cum of both men dripping out of your sensitive pussy 🫦🫦🫦🫦

cw: mentions of p in v, doggy, missionary, scratching/marking, allusions to big dick! clark

wc: 0.5k

it's the kind of august that sticks to your skin. the air's thick, the cicadas won't shut up, and everything feels a little too slow.

you've known clark your whole life. known the way he ducks his head when he's embarrassed, the way he says "ma'am" so politely, the way he's always been so careful with everything.

he hasn't been careful with you.

not this summer.

it started small — lingering touches, hands brushing a little too long, the kind of looks that make your stomach flip. sneaking out to the barn, to the fields, to anywhere no one would think to look. both of you pretending you didn't feel it building, even while you kept coming back for more.

and clark... god, clark learns fast.

way too fast.

by the time august rolls around, he's not tentative anymore. he's sure. steady. the kind of sure that has him on top of you in the back of the old truck, fucking you deep in missionary with slow, heavy thrusts that punch the air out of your lungs. he's so thick it borders on too much, stretching you open every time he bottoms out, and you end up clawing at his abs just to have something to hold onto while he grinds against that spot that makes your legs shake.

or when he bends you over hay bales in the loft, one hand fisted in your hair, pounding into you from behind so hard the wood groans underneath you. you reach back blindly, nails raking down his stomach because you can't do anything else — not when he's hitting so deep it feels like he's rearranging you, your cunt clenching around him while you cum with your face pressed into the scratchy hay.

you don't mean to leave marks. you really don't.

it just happens when he fucks you that good.

so now it's late afternoon, golden light spilling through the kent house, and martha's calling for the two of you to hurry if you're going to the creek you two frequented as teenagers before supper.

you're already there when he comes barreling out from his childhood bedroom, hair damp at the edges, t shirt clinging slightly from the heat. he's laughing about something his pa said, easy and bright —

until he pulls the shirt up over his head.

and you see them.

faint red lines dragged low across his stomach, just above the waistband of his swim trunks.

ma kent notices first. of course she does.

there's that soft, startled little gasp — “clark joseph kent, what on earth—“ — and he freezes, ears going red as he fumbles for an excuse.

"just... caught on some fencing down by the field," he says too quick, rubbing the back of his neck. "chasing that loose calf again."

jonathan gives him a long look over his iced tea, but doesn't push. martha just sighs and shakes her head, already turning toward the kitchen like she's decided it's better not to ask too many questions.

"well, be more careful next time, honey," she says gently.

clark goes even redder.

and for a second, jusstttt a second, his eyes flick to you.

you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling. all while heat crawls under your skin, pretending you don't already know exactly how those marks are going to feel under your fingers tonight...

💌: obsessed with the idea of clark cumming on your pussy and using his dick to smear it all over your folds and clit

cw: established relationship, cum play, teasing, dirty talk, allusions to prior sex and pussy slapping

wc: 0.4k

"gosh... i can't tease you anymore, baby. look at you." his voice had gone rough, that gentle politeness cracking under the weight of how wrecked you were. he stroked himself once, twice, thick fingers squeezing the base of his dick as he lined up the swollen, flushed head right against your dripping slit.

the first hot stripe of his cum hit you with a wet splatter — thick, heavy, and pulsing across your swollen folds in rhythmic spurts. you gasped at the sudden heat of it, the way it painted your pussy in messy, obscene ropes. clark groaned deep in his chest, jaw tight, eyes locked on the sight of his spend coating your pretty cunt.

"that's it," he rasped, voice hoarse with satisfaction. another thick pulse landed directly on your clit, making your hips jerk sharply. the wet sound of it was filthy, almost louder than the earlier slaps — sticky and warm, dripping down over your entrance in slow, pearly trails.

he didn't pull away. instead, he pressed the broad, still leaking head of his cock against your cum slick folds and started to smear it. slow, deliberate circles. the fat tip dragged through the mess he'd made, spreading his release over every inch of your swollen pussy, gliding slick and heavy over your clit, then down to nudge against your twitching entrance, only to pull back and paint it all over again.

"listen to that," he murmured, almost reverent, as the lewd, squelching sound filled the room with every lazy stroke. his cum mixed with your own slick, turning everything glossy and obscene. he tapped the head against your clit once, twice, watching the way the pearly fluid clung and stretched in thin strings before breaking. "so messy for me. my pretty girl dripping with my cum."

you whimpered, back arching, fingers twisting in the sheets as he kept working the sensitive head in unhurried figure eights over your folds. every pass nudged your swollen clit, sending sparks through your overstimulated bundle of nerves. the heat of his release, the smooth glide of his cockhead, the way he watched it all with dark, hungry eyes — it was too much and not enough all at once.

clark leaned down, breath hot against your ear, voice low and a bit smug again. "you feel that? how slippery you are now? that's all me, honey. gonna rub it in nice and deep so you remember who exactly you belong to."

he dragged the tip up one last time, pressing it firmly against your clit and giving one final, slow grind, spreading the last of his cum in a slick, filthy sheen that left you throbbing and whimpering beneath him. his grin returned, soft and dangerous.

"perfect," he whispered, pressing one last kiss to your trembling thigh. "i can do this all night, baby."

summary: clark didn't mean for you to see... but when he catches your gaze on him through the cracked door, he just has to put on a small show

cw: 18+, male masturbation, size kink, big dick! clark, voyeurism, exhibitionist! clark, mention of vibrator use

it's your usual sunday: lazy, slow, full of the soft lather of your dove soap and long showers. you'd been humming to yourself, rinsing shampoo from your hair and letting the steam melt off the weekend. but the hot water runs out faster than you thought, and soon you're padding out into the hallway in just your towel, hair clinging to your neck, and droplets falling quiet to the floor, expecting the apartment to be just as quiet as it always is.

except... it isn't.

there's a sound, faint at first. a wet, rhythmic sound, sloppy and fast. accompanied by soft groans that are barely audible. it's followed by a low, whispered moan of pleasure — "ah... mm..." — and a wet plap... plap... plap...

your heart jumps. it's coming from clark's room.

clark kent, your sweet, respectful, little kansas raised roommate, who says things like "golly" when he's frustrated and never even thinks to look when you walk around in shorts and a tank top. he always knocks and always offers to carry your groceries.

you lean closer, half convinced you've misunderstood, until—

"g-gos—" he cuts himself off with a breathy whine. "oh, that's... so good..."

your breath catches. the door is cracked.

you know you shouldn't look but your feet move before your conscience catches up. and through that narrow sliver, you see him with his legs spread wide on the bed, boxers tugged off, and his dick...

your knees weaken.

it's massive. heavy, flushed, and glistening. spit slicked. his abs flex as the fat tip smacks against them every time his hand pumps back down. his other hand is fisted in his comforter, brows furrowed and eyes closed in pleasure. and he's moaning soft, needy, desperate little whimpers.

you bite your lip, your thighs pressed together at the lewd sight of him.

and then he carefully opens his eyes, just for a second, and sees your eyes fixed on his fat, leaking cock and your bottom lip tugged between your teeth.

he falters, just barely, a quick intake of breath and his grip tightens. but he doesn't stop, he actually strokes faster and harder. his jaw slack, his chest rising and falling as he ruts into his own hand with a stuttered rhythm, all because he knows you're right there watching.

"feels so...good," he whimpers to himself, voice cracking with strain, "ohh, s'not right...mmm feels so good—"

he was close. you could see it. every muscle drawn tight. his hand a blur now. his head dropped back again, pretty throat exposed, curls sticking to his temple with sweat. and then—

"please," he gasped softly. "please—i'm—ohh—nnnhh—“

clark came hard, shuddering with a groan that punched straight into your core. his cock jerked in his fist, spilling hot and thick over his knuckles, spurting all the way to his stomach. he choked on his own moan, panting through clenched teeth, thighs trembling as he rode it out.

you fled, slipping silently past the door before he could say anything. heart hammering and towel slipping.

by the time you slammed your door shut and locked it behind you, your pulse was in your ears and your fingers were between your legs, pushing aside the damp towel. you reached for your drawer without even thinking, hand fumbling for your favorite toy as your clit throbbed with pent up hunger.

you had no idea hew knew you saw. you just knew you needed to cum, and fast.

the buzz of your vibrator filled the room.

and 20 minutes later, when clark emerged from his room, freshly showered, cheeks pink, and hair still damp, he paused in the hallway.

because from behind your closed door came the soft, unmistakable sound of buzzing.

his lips parted...and then curved, just slightly.

now it was his turn to watch...

an: i feel like i've been neglecting this acc a bit sorryyy! hope you all enjoy!