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Aquaman/Superman – Clark has enormous titties and Arthur needs to get his hands on them.

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“Swimming, are ya? Never pegged you for a water rat.”

The water ripples violently when Mister Clark Kent jerks around, paddling awkwardly to not sink as he peers up at Arthur.

“Well- I don’t often get the chance to enjoy myself, but I do quite like a swim every now and then.”

When Arthur just keeps staring at him, a small smirk plastered on his face, he becomes visibly flustered and begins to move toward the stairs at the end of the swimming pool.

“Oh no, please keep at it. I did not want to interrupt you… enjoying yourself,” Arthur drawls, lifting his arms in deprecation. “Please.”

“No, it is alright. You didn’t interrupt at all, I was basically done anyway. Maybe… Maybe this would be a good time to talk? I had been meaning to get some one-on-one time with you.”

Arthur’s smirk widens into a shark-like grin, pale blue eyes fixed on the way Superman’s muscles look when they are wet. Of course he is just wearing the tiniest pair of speedos. He still has to figure out whether the golden boy is doing it on purpose or truly has no sense of self.

In any case, Arthur moves closer, slowly closing in on his prey.

“Oh did you now? Some one-on-one time… hmmm I see.”

He can tell that his manner is confusing good old Clark; but he can’t bring himself to care much when Superman turns around and shows off that quite incredible view from the front. Arthur can’t help how his gaze immediately drops to the huge pectorals that the other is displaying so open and proud, the wall of muscle lightly jiggling with his movements.

He wouldn’t have thought that they could look even more perverse outside of the tight suit that Clark enjoys wearing usually, but – there they are, utterly obscene in how huge they are.

“Arthur, I-”

“Damn…”

Superman pauses, blinking profusely. He is starting to look flustered now, his hands nervously moving at his sides. He doesn’t know what to do with himself now that he is standing there, showing off his body like a whore; that much is clear.

Arthur, seeing his chance, quickly closes in on his target now. He’s not body shy in the least, and Clark Kent’s huge milkers are making his fingers itch to touch. So he does. While Superman is still waffling about, stuttering and showing off that Clark Kent is much more true to his nature than anything else, Arthur reaches up and grabs a nice fist full of one of his pectorals.

It astounds him quite honestly that they’re not drooping under their own weight like a nice fat pair of lady tits. They look obscene; and they feel obscene, too.

Clark’s hand lifts abruptly but stops halfway and falls helplessly back down again before ever coming even close to grabbing Arthur’s wrist and twisting his arm away from groping him like he had any right to do it.

His face has taken on an almost alarming shade of red, turned away from his groper as he clears his throat profusely.

“Mister Curry-” he starts, trying to put in some semblance of authority into his voice.

Arthur, not too impressed by the display, looks down and smirks as he sees how tight the speedo has become around Superman’s cock already.

“You wanted some one-on-one time, yes? Why don’t we… talk a little. In the showers. Get that chlorine off of you…”

He’d never thought that it would be so laughably easy to bully Superman around… or maybe that is it: this is not Superman, not right now. Outside of his suit he seems to be much more Clark Kent than he likes to admit, docilely following his groper out of the pool area. Were his tits not so damn huge, his dick would lead the way.

It’s gotten big enough that Arthur can see the ridge of his crown clearly outlined by the thin fabric.

When they are in the showers and he makes Clark take them off, he does not pretend not to stare at the way his dick comes wagging out like a dog’s tail… or that he hadn’t brought him in for the express purpose of molesting his huge milkers.

He’s a tits man – what can he say.

The water raining down on them from the shower is nice; it also masks a bit of Clark’s whining once Arthur really gets into digging his fingers into the plump muscles. Someone is having really sensitive breasts…

Clark doesn’t look shy – but he is flustered, grabbing on to Arthur’s shoulders and looking like a fish as he keeps opening and closing his mouth without a word coming out.

His cheeks are flushed, growing darker and darker… but through all of it, he is not denying Arthur. Hmm. Might the perfectly good super hero be a secret slut? Might it be that he loves getting his obscenely fat pecs fondled like they’re a pair of juicy tits?

How naughty…

Arthur steps closer, forcing him against the cool shower tiled wall. The space is wide open, nothing there to hide them from view if any member of the league were to make up their mind and go for a late night swim just as Clark had. He loves the thought of someone seeing them.

Someone being witness to the fact that Superman loves getting his pecs squeezed by big, mean hands. It’s not like Arthur has any problems with being watched. He’s not actively looking for it either, though…

“Damn, Clark… you got some nice udders, don’t you?” he croons once he takes his hands off of him for long enough to just stare at them. He’s got fat nipples that Arthur doesn’t even know how he managed to hide them in his tight suit.

“You usin’ tape on those puppies?” he says with a low, rough laugh, pinching one plump tip between thumb and forefinger and squeezing down until he hears Superman’s sharp gasp. “Don’t want them to put even more attention on your whore tits, I guess.”

“A-Arthur, please-” Clark says weak. With his hair slicked back by the water he looks so much like Superman… but his behavior is all Clark Kent, subservient like a dog, one hand shielding his eyes, the other just impotently holding on to Arthur’s shoulder as he gets his fat tits molested by him.

Sure, he’s got a banger bod, but there is nothing that Arthur doesn’t have himself; meaty thighs, tight belly, big biceps… it’s nothing special at all – other than the huge pecs he’s carrying around with himself, visible for anybody who can see.

His nipples are ridiculous; fat and sensitive as far as he can tell; all but little cocks that stand at attention for him, nice and erect so he can pluck them like a damn harp.

“You’ve got such a slutty body,” Arthur rasps.

For a second Clark seems to want to duck away so Arthur all but slams into him, pushing him against the shower wall and reaching down to curl a hand around Superman’s cock. It’s a big one but certainly not as large as he would have expected from a man larger than life.

It’s enough to make him settle down again, head thumping against the wall, Adam’s Apple bobbing with a nervous swallow.

In Arthur’s tight grip, Clark’s cock flexes every time his teats are played with, be it a mean pinch or a harsh pull. He seems to absolutely love any and all punishment that Arthur can dole out… which is arousing in and off itself.

He likes giving pain in the bedroom; and Clark’s whore tits are certainly big enough to be slapped around some – which he does: an open palmed slap to the side of his chest, pale eyes fixed on the way it gets the muscle jiggling.

All Clark does is gasp like the whore he is, cock flexing once more in Arthur’s strangling grip. He’s probably drooling bucket loads of pre-cum, all of which is washed away by the constant spray of water from over their heads.

So he slaps him again. And again. Left, right, left, right – a constant rain of slaps that gets his mega pecs bouncing obscenely. They quickly flush as much as his cheeks have, then even darker and more splotchy; showing off the shape of Arthur’s fingers.

In the end, it is his teeth that make Clark come like a bitch; he digs them into the meat of his pec first and then harshly around one of his pervert nipples, digging them in until he can hear a sharp, high-pitched little cry, combined with the cock in his fist briefly swelling even more before starting to erupt hot ribbons of semen against his abdomen.

What a nasty pain slut… who would have thought?

Arthur is sure that he can train Clark into a nasty little whore… get him absolutely addicted to having his slutty tits used and abused. He’s so glad he joined the league after all.

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