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05 November 2012

The Love of His Life - Chapter Seven



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Chapter Seven


Clark Kent wasn’t having fun at the corn festival. He would have if Chloe could have joined him but she’d insisted on staying at the farm. He knew she was right, that it was too much to risk that her uncle had people in the crowd just waiting to spot her, but he still regretted being away from her.
As the old song his mother was fond of listening to when he was growing up said, he’d fooled around and fell in love.
Every year, since he’d been old enough to attend on his own, he’d come to the corn festival every night of the single week it was held. He’d always looked forward to mingling with friends and eating more junk food than his parents would normally allow. He’d also looked forward to the fireworks display at the end of the week, on the last night of the festival, before the whole setup was packed away and moved on to the next town. The rides had never held an attraction for Clark. They couldn’t hold a candle to the thrill of the naked, unassisted flying he was capable of. He’d ridden them only to appease his friend, Pete Ross.
Now he had to keep up appearances lest anyone notice that Clark Kent hadn’t shown up. He’d argued the townsfolk would believe he’d grown out of the need to attend the festival every night it was held but his mother insisted he go, as did Chloe, so there he was. He wanted to be at home, instead, since it was nearing his mother’s usual bedtime. He and Chloe could sneak out to the barn and make out. They hadn’t actually had sex yet and he was cool with that. He just enjoyed being with her.
Tonight his mother joined him. He sat at one of the picnic tables and waited for her to return with drinks. He was so caught up imagining being in the darkened loft, Chloe’s warm, soft body pressed to his, he didn’t notice his mother’s return.
“It’s almost over,” she said, sitting down across from him and placing a paper plate loaded with funnel cake toward him. “Extra sugar, your favorite,” she said, smiling.
This cake is sweet but not as sweet as Chloe’s lips…
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Did you spot anyone new in the crowd?”
“Lots of new people but they’re all with familiar faces. No strange loners.”
“I haven’t spotted any either,” she agreed.
They ate the funnel cake in silence and watched their neighbors and friends coming and going.
“I miss Pete,” Clark said.
Martha nodded. “I do too. You should go to Metropolis sometime to visit him.”
Clark shrugged. “I know but there’s a lot to do around the farm.”
It was a pitiful excuse but the truth was he and Pete had grown apart. He missed the closeness they once shared and he knew they’d never have that again, not like it was when they’d been growing up.
A familiar laugh drew Clark and Martha’s attention. Lana Lang sauntered past with Whitney Fordman on her arm. She slid her eyes over to Clark, sneered at him, and then walked on, flipping her long red hair as she went.
“Bitch,” Martha whispered.
Clark snorted. “Mom! I’ve never heard you curse.”
“Even I have my limits, Clark. I hate what she did to you.”
Clark shook his head. “I’m glad she and I broke up. I’m glad it’s over. She was no good for me. She’s no good for anyone.”
“Except that boy. He used to bully you in school.”
“Well, that’s all over now and I have a girlfriend worth loving.”
Martha cocked an eyebrow. “Love?”
Clark shrugged and felt his face heat up. “Someday, I guess. I know I really like her.”
“Well, better Chloe for a daughter in law than Lana.”
“Whoa, don’t you think you’re rushing things a bit?”
“Parents always worry about who their child will end up with. It’s why they’re so critical of everyone their child takes a serious interest in. No one wants their baby to end up with the wrong person.”
“Do you think Dad would have liked Chloe?”
Martha nodded. “He would have, yes.”
Clark’s throat tightened unexpectedly. He was taken by surprise by the intensity of the guilt he felt at the mention of his father’s name. He didn’t know why he’d brought the subject of his dad up, since he'd refused to mention his father since the funeral. He wished he hadn’t brought the subject up as he pushed the plate of funnel cake toward his mother and stood up. The bench creaked slightly as his weight eased off it.
“Clark?”
“It’s late and I don’t want to be here anymore.”
He stalked toward the truck and Martha followed after him. She had to jog to keep up.
“Son, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s something. Why don’t you tell me?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Martha planted herself between her son and the truck before he could reach the door handle. They were closest to the tents that lined the outside perimeter of the fairgrounds. Clark wished he’d never opened the door on the subject of his father because he knew his mother would eagerly step through. He knew she’d waited for  him to bring it up so she could finally tell him how deeply disappointed she’d been in him for failing to save the love of her life.
“Please don’t shut down on me. We’ve never talked about your father. It’s been two years. We should.”
Clark shook his head . He had his eyes pressed tightly together. “Just go ahead and say it. No point keeping it in anymore.”
“Keeping what in?”
“How much you hate me.”
He felt his mother’s hands on the sides of his face. They were calloused from years of hard labor on the farm but they were so gentle they reminded him of the delicate wings of the birds he used to fly beside as they migrated south for the winter.
As soon as his eyes opened the tears that had welled up there slid down his face. Martha didn’t try to wipe them away. She wanted them to fall. God only knew how much they needed to fall.
“I could never hate you, Clark. You’re my son. I love you.”
He shook his head. “I let him down. I let you down. I couldn’t get back in time to save him.”
“Oh, baby, that wasn’t your fault. Not even you can save everyone. You’re incredible, you’re a miracle in the flesh, but you’re not God, Clark. Your father knew that. I knew that.”
She wrapped her arms around her son’s waist. He soon wrapped her in his embrace, careful not to squeeze too hard but she still found it a little hard to breathe, and she felt his tears drop into her hair. She didn’t care about the pressure. She wasn’t going to complain. She hadn’t hugged her son in two years. They hadn’t really talked in all that time and now she knew why. He thought she hated him.
“You saved us more than you’ll ever understand. At least you won’t understand until you have children of your own. You made our lives so much better, Clark, just by being our son. You gave Jonathan and me a sense of purpose and fulfillment. He loved you so much. I love you so much. I’m so sorry that I did or said anything to make you believe I hated you.”
“You didn’t. I just know how much you loved him and that it was my fault he’s gone,” Clark explained.
Martha shook her head and looked up at him.
“Now you listen to me. It is not your fault that he’s gone. The only fault lies with the man who shot him. Your father wouldn’t blame you, and I certainly don’t blame you, so don’t blame yourself another second. You have to forgive yourself, Clark. You have to understand that you did your very best to get there in time and you couldn’t. China is a long flight, even for you. Promise me you’ll remember that the next time the guilt sets in. It wasn’t your fault.”
Clark nodded but his mother’s request was a lot easier said than done. Still, he felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He felt light, like he could float right off the ground from the sheer relief of knowing his mother didn’t secretly hate him. He could sense her sincerity. She didn’t resent him. She loved him.
He loved her.
“Come on, Son. I need to get home. I’m too old to stay up this late.”
Clark nodded and climbed in behind the wheel and a few moments later they made their way toward the road that would lead them home.

*****

Lucy Lane stepped out of the shadows of the shadows of the fortune teller’s tent and watched the tail lights of the Kents’ truck fade into the distance. She hadn’t been moved by the warming scene she’d just witnessed between mother and son. She’d never felt the kind of warm, gooey feelings Lois used to speak of ad nauseum when they were growing up. All she’d ever felt were things like emptiness, rage, lust, and longing. She didn't know what she longed for. She'd never done anything to satisfy that feeling but killing and the misery of others gave her a momentary reprieve from the maddening sense of something being missing from her life.
She used to try to pretend to feel the same things as everyone else, so she could blend in since she knew she was different, but she’d never been any good at it. From a very young age Lucy knew everyone thought she was ‘off’ and ‘weird’ but she didn’t care. She was who she was and if someone didn’t like her they could kiss her ass.
The desire to do dark deeds was the only thing she could feel and so she reveled in the opportunities her father gave her to do just that. Those opportunities were few and far between, however.
What Lucy Lane lacked in ability to feel she made up for in intellect. She was smarter than her sister, Lois, gave her credit for. Yes, Lucy knew she could be impulsive, but she was also clever and she knew there was something different about Clark and Martha Kent.
China is a long flight, even for you…
Why would Clark blame himself for not being able to save his father’s life if he was on a flight from China? Surely if he’d gotten word that someone was threatening his father with a gun he couldn’t expect to just jet home in time to save him.
China is a long flight, even for you.
Even for you…
What had Martha meant by ‘even for you’? What was different about Clark that a flight from China to the United States should have been shorter for him than anyone else?
Lucy took out her phone and dialed the one associate who worked for her father that she had anything in common: Lewis Shriver. He was even more ‘weird’ than she could dream of being. If there was a man who was truly dead inside it was him. He was also wickedly intelligen and sexy as all get out.
“Shriver.”
“It's Lucy. I want you to look up every flight Clark, Martha, or Jonathan Kent has ever been on.”
“I want you to come back and spread those sixteen year old legs,” Shriver said in a throaty voice.
Lust was something Lucy Lane could feel at will and it didn’t require the pain or death of another living thing. She and the forty-year-old Shriver often indulged in sex. She thought her father knew but looked the other way because it made her as happy as she was capable of being.
Lucy felt herself moisten at the thought of Shriver inside her. She smiled.
“I need the report ASAP,” Lucy said.
“Will do.” The line went dead and Lucy made another call.
“Lois,” she said, after dialing her sister’s number. “See any movement?”

“All quiet. I’ve tossed the house and the barn. Nothing.”

“The Kents are on the way home now. They left about three minutes ago. If you’re still in the house get out. They’ll be there soon.”

“Got it.”

The line went silent. Lucy slipped her phone back in her pocket and walked toward the H3 she'd brought from the Facility. This was supposed to be Lois’s last night on the stakeout. Lucy was there to observe the comings and goings of the Kents at the festival, or if they broke routine by not showing when it was common knowledge that Clark attended every night of the festival every year, before meeting with Lois and following her back to the Facility.

Lois didn't know of the plans for Lucy to turn up and have her return to the Facility, though. Their father had changed their plans at the last minute. He wanted to keep Lois off guard. He felt uneasy about her. He didn't trust Lois's unashamed and unabashed love of her cousin, Chloe, would outweigh her loyalty to him.

If she got the results she suspected she would from Shriver’s research into Clark Kent, however, then the stakeout had just begun.


*****



Lois stood in the back forty with the binoculars up to her eyes. She looked into the kitchen window and watched her cousin set an apple pie in the window to cool. Chloe paused, as though sensing something, and looked almost dead on in Lois’s direction. Lois didn’t flinch. It was dark and she knew Chloe couldn’t see her. Still, her cousin’s instincts were impressive. The couple months she’d spent away from the Facility hadn’t dulled her senses in the least.
The phone in her pocket vibrated. She answered the call.
“Lois. See any movement?”
“All quiet,” Lois lied. “I’ve tossed the house and the barn. Nothing.”
“The Kents are on the way home now. They left about three minutes ago. If you’re still in the house get out. They’ll be there soon.”
“Got it.”
Lois ended the call and watched as Chloe left the house and walked toward the barn. She was going to wait for Clark to come home from the festival. Martha Kent would go to bed and they’d spend most of the night in the loft.
Lois hoped her cousin was having mind-blowing sex with Clark. He was huge and he was hotter than any model or actor Lois had ever laid eyes on. Chloe had managed to hit the jackpot and boy, did she deserve it. Lois smiled.
Good for you, Cuz.
*****

Clark’s mouth tasted like sugar and his own kind of sweetness. Chloe licked his lips and then slipped her tongue into his mouth.
She loved these moments with him. Clark wasn’t just an awesome kisser. He wasn’t just gorgeous. He was kind and understanding and he wanted what was best for her -- for them. He didn’t try to rush anything. He didn’t try to go further than kissing and light, over-the-clothes groping.
Until tonight.
There was something intense about his touch tonight. He seemed restless. He was also quieter than usual.
“Are you okay, Clark?”
He smiled up at her. If she didn’t know better she’d think he was a little tipsy. Was it alcohol that hooded his eyes or her?
“I’m great. Mom and I talked about Dad tonight. She told me I’d been wrong all this time to think she blamed me for Dad’s death.”
Clark had told her what happened to his father on one of their long nights in the loft. She’d tried to convince him that his mother loved him but he’d still needed to hear it from Martha. Chloe understood that. She was glad they’d talked and gotten everything out in the open.
“I feel free. Light,” he said.
“Guilt is a heavy load to carry,” Chloe said. She’d had long experience with it regarding her father. “It never gives you a break and it’s not easy to let it go.”
“You speak from experience.”
Chloe nodded.
“Your father’s death is no more your fault than my father’s death was mine. You know that, right?”
“I know,” she said nodding. “I just wish there was something I could have done differently.”
“There wasn’t. You were fourteen years old, Chloe. You were a child. You couldn’t have stopped your uncle from killing your dad. You have nothing to feel guilty for. Easier said than done, though.”
Chloe put a leg over Clark and straddled him. He sank back into the cushions of the overstuffed couch. The light inside was very dim. There was only the small lamp across the room and they were mostly out of the golden nimbus it cast. Still she could see his vivid green eyes. She relished the feel of his hands on her legs, stroking them lightly.
Each caress of his hands on her hips send a wave of warm need through the core of her body. Her breath picked up, especially when Clark’s lips parted.
“I want you,” she said.
Chloe leaned in and pressed her lips lightly to his, grazing them, teasing but not pressing enough for a kiss.
“I want you too.”
“Then take me.”
Clothes came off in super speed. Chloe found herself on her back, Clark smiling above her.
“Tell me it’s not over already,” she joked.
“I’m just getting started.”
“Back where we were,” she said, urging him to sit back down so she could straddle him again.
“We’ll start like this but I want to finish with you under me,” Clark told her. His voice was low and husky.
“Dominant, are you?”
“Must be my alien genes.”
Her lips curved in a smile as she began to slowly rub her swollen clit against the length of Clark’s cock, leaving a trail of her juices over him. His breath picked up and his hands cupped her bottom. She knew he wanted to lift her up and then lower her onto him.
“Mm-hmm,” she agreed by moaning consent into his mouth.
Clark slid the head of his cock into Chloe’s slick warmth. She hissed with need and dug her fingers into his hair as she pushed down onto him. She’d never had a lover who filled her so completely and went so deeply. She took him all the way in and her head fell back as a moan of pure pleasure escaped her.
“Oh, God, Clark…You feel so good.”
She began to move atop him, slowly at first as she allowed her body to adjust to him. It didn’t take long. Soon she couldn’t move fast enough, hard enough to satisfy the need that was deep inside her.
Sensing her need, her desire to be fucked, Clark picked Chloe up, slid out of her, and turned her to face the back of the couch. He put only the head of his cock in and hesitated. He toyed with her. Tortured her deliciously.
“Yes, Clark. Yes…”
He slammed into her, making her cry out, not with pain but with need and pleasure. Each whimper was a manifestation of lust and love and need. He slid a hand around Chloe’s belly, reached into her soft blond curls, and began massaging her. It was more than she could handle. Her body clenched deep inside sending wave after wave of the purest ecstasy through the core of her body. The feel of it was enough to send Clark over the edge and soon he was crying out with her as he came harder than he ever thought he could.
*****
“Oh…my…I didn’t know it could be that good,” Chloe said a few minutes later, when they’d settled into the couch.
“Me either,” Clark agreed.
“You broke a sweat,” she noticed.
“So did you.”
“Actually I think you broke my back, too,” she joked.
His sleepy eyes opened and he looked at her with real concern. “Did I hurt you?”
“No. I was kidding. You made me feel better than I’ve ever dreamed possible. I --”
Chloe’s breath hitched in her throat.
“You what?” he prompted.
She’d been about to say I love you. She was so glad she’d caught herself. She did love Clark, and she knew he cared about her, but it was way too soon in their relationship to say the three big words. She didn’t want to ruin what they had. She didn’t want to push too hard and scare him away.
God, if he ever rejected me I’d die. I’d just give up and go back to the Facility on my own and let them do whatever the hell they wanted to me.
“I want some of that apple pie.”
He smiled in a knowing way that told Chloe he knew apple pie hadn’t been on her mind. It had been something much deeper than that.
Still, apple pie sounded damn good to him.
“We’ve got some vanilla ice cream left,” he said.
“Mmmm…all the better.”
They quickly got dressed. Clark flipped off the light in the barn and together they walked across the yard and into the house.

*****

Lucy turned down the narrow dirt road they favored as a surveillance spot on the Kent farm and parked her massive, totally conspicuous black H3 only feet from her.
Clark and Chloe had just entered the house looking freshly fucked. The kitchen windows were aglow with light and if Lucy took the binoculars she would have no trouble seeing Chloe inside with Clark. Lois's body tensed. What reason could she have for saying she hadn't spotted Chloe when Chloe walked freely about the property?
“He’s still up?” Lucy said, looking at the distant farmhouse with its kitchen windows glowing. 
 God, didn’t these people believe in curtains?
“Looks like,” Lois said casually. “There’s nothing here, so let’s roll--”
“Not so fast. I think there might be something  here after all.”
“What makes you say that?” Lois asked, relieved her voice didn’t betray anything but weariness. She added a convincing yawn and stretch to sell it. She just hoped Lucy was buying.
“I’m waiting on a call from Shriver.”
“That old man you’re fucking?”
“He’s a hot old man,” Lucy snapped.
“He’s a pedophile.”
“He is not. I’m not a baby, Lois.”
“You almost are.”
“I’m not here to talk about my sex life. I have something interesting to tell you.”
Lucy described the conversation she’d overheard between Clark and Martha at the fair. Lois snorted derisively.
“You’re joking! That’s it?”
“I have a feeling I’m onto something.”
“And I have a feeling you’re just on something, Lucy.”
“Why are you so eager to leave?” Lucy asked with open suspicion in her dark, dead eyes.
“Because I’m sick of this stakeout. It’s a waste of time and resources. Chloe isn’t here and these people are boring as hell, Lucy.”
“Maybe they’re not. There’s more to them than meets the eye. I’ve had that gut feeling since the old woman came out swinging those stupid rape charges against Dad.”
“Oh, yes. Of course, that explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“You don’t like what Martha said about Dad so you’ve got it in for her. The woman was only repeating lies that Chloe told her, Lucy.”
“This isn’t about loyalty to Daddy.”
“Dad. You’re too old to call him Daddy.”
Lucy’s lips disappeared into a thin, angry line. Lois couldn’t help herself. She loved to taunt her psycho little sister, especially if it distracted her when she was zeroing in on the truth, which she was doing right now with her usual annoying accuracy.
“You’ve always hated Daddy.”
“He killed our mother. The worst part? It was you who betrayed her.”
Lucy laughed harshly. “You want to talk betrayal? That whore was screwing ‘Uncle’ Gabe. She used to take us on her little visits --”
Hearing Lucy call their mother a whore was more than Lois could take. She snapped and punched her sister hard across the face, catching her under her left eye. Lucy hissed in pain and fell back, hitting the hood of the H3. Lois couldn’t stop herself. She knew Lucy told on their mother about the visits. She knew she did it out of loyalty to their father and anger at their mother for being in love with Gabriel Sullivan. She blamed Lucy as much as she did her father for their mother’s death.
She wanted to punch Lucy until she sagged to the ground and never moved again.
The world would be a better place without her.
It would also make Lois’s ultimate goals much easier if her black-hearted sister was out of the picture for good.
Lucy began to fight back after four punches. She brought her knee up and into Lois’s stomach hard enough to knock the wind from her lungs and send her staggering back and into her surveillance van. She slid to the ground only to receive another few kicks to the gut.
Screaming with what sounded like a mixture of rage and sexual arousal, Lucy climbed atop Lois and began punching with deadly precision. Lois felt her body begin to feel heavy. She’d lose consciousness if she didn’t do something fast.
Lois drove her fist up and it made a solid connection with Lucy’s jaw. She bucked her hips upward and managed to dislodge her sister, sending her rolling to the front tires of the H3. Lois reached for her sister’s ankle only to get a near kick to the head. She leaned back, avoiding Lucy’s kicking feet and got up into a crouch.
“Bring it, bitch,” Lois hissed like an angry viper.
Rather than responding Lucy pulled her phone from her pocket.
“Talk to me,” she said, breathing hard. Blood poured down her nose and both women spat mouthfuls of it into the dirt.
“I’m fine, Shriver. Just having a little friendly fight with my dear, sweet sister. Tell me about Kent…Uh-huh…I see…Thanks.”
“Interesting news. Clark Kent hasn’t flown to China or anywhere else in his entire life. He doesn’t even have a passport.”
“So?”
“So, his mother specifically spoke of China being a long flight, even for him.”
“I still don’t get it,” Lois said, playing dumb, though she knew what Lucy was getting at.
“That’s because you’re a stupid, vapid whore, Lois. You throw a decent punch, though.”
“What are you getting at, Lucy?”
“I think Kent may be some kind of meteor freak who can fly. He was so far off he wasn’t able to get here in time to save dear old paw from some guy with a gun.”
Lois thought of the video she’d captured of Clark lowering Chloe slowly to the ground from the air. She’d made a few screencaptures of it, for proof lest he ever try to deny it when the time came for her to confront him so she could get his attention, before destroying the video itself.
Now Lucy was beginning to work out the truth for herself, all from one thoughtless line Mrs. Kent had said to her son in a vulnerable moment.
“It’s time to bring Dad in. We need to find out more about Clark Kent. Truce?”
Lois thought it over. She couldn’t kill Lucy now. The time wasn't right. She had a very specific plan and it required some cooperation from her father and sister, albeit that cooperation would be completely beyond their knowledge. She would put an end to them, avenge her mother, and save the world from their research, and that required both of them to be alive. Now was not the time to act.
Taking a deep breath, Lois nodded. “Truce."


-------------------------

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9 comments:

  1. Anonymous1:39 PM

    Wow!!!!!This chapter was very exciting.
    Knowing that the mother of Lois and Lucy had an affair with Gabe was a big surprise. Now I'm even more curious by the course of events.

    You describe Lucy as a psychopath perfectly. Her thoughts are sick ...
    Poor Lois, Chloe needs to know how much Lois also suffered all these years.
    And the barn scene was hot ... : D


    Again, I loved the update! The fic makes my Mondays much sweeter!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you so much! Thank you for faithfully commenting, too. I appreciate the feedback. It's very encouraging.

      Delete
  2. Anonymous1:59 PM

    great chapter

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks so much, dear! How is your trip?

      Delete
    2. Anonymous12:22 AM

      going good, thanks

      Delete
  3. Anonymous8:09 PM

    That was a really good fight scene between Lois and Lucy. I'm not much of a fan of Lois usually, but I like her in this fic!

    And very nice naughtiness between Clark and Chloe : )

    ReplyDelete
  4. Anonymous1:15 PM

    The eighth chapter will not be posted this week? :(

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh yes, it's been posted. I also posted chapter nine on the off chance that next Monday I won't be able to do the update because of real life stuff. This week you got a double shot of chapters 8&9 :)

      Chapter 8 is linked to on the main page.

      Delete
    2. Anonymous3:29 PM

      :) thanks

      Delete

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