Marry The Steel update (Patreon)

Among the extensive collection of knowledge Clark had amassed was the addresses of all his co-workers. He flew not at top speed, but definitely too fast to be perceived, Cat Grant wrapped in his cape to protect her privacy and more than a little of her nudity.

Presently, he was letting himself into her apartment. Most single women in the city locked their doors, but few their windows—not sixty stories up. He floated inside, accompanied by a soft breeze that lowered the temperature a few degrees. Something about the influx of cool air into the apartment’s warm air conditioning got to Cat in her sleep. She snuggled up closer to Clark’s broad chest. He made his way to her bedroom, which amused Clark in looking like a one-woman seraglio, though he didn’t feel judgmental about it.

In contrast to the lushly, tastefully appointed rest of the apartment, the walls of the bedroom was covered with soft silks, the floor with deep, Chinese-wrought rugs. The bed was large and intricately carved, worthy of a opium den, with satiny fabrics covering every inch of the mattress and unlit lanterns hanging from the posters. Heaps of thick, downy cushions replaced the pillows. It seemed like a sensual world all its own.

Clark carried Cat to the bed and set her down in it, gently gracing one of the cushions with her head. Despite all his care, she stirred at being deprived of his touch. In a flash, Clark replaced his work clothes over his Superman costume, as he’d carried them with him alongside Cat.

Cat blinked awake to see Clark standing over her. “Clark? Is this my—what are we doing in my bedroom? How much did I have to drink?”

Clark pulled a sheet over her. “Maybe one too many. Don’t worry about it. I was just leaving.”

“Clark,” Cat sighed. “Stay with me. Please?” She held out her hand. “I know you. You don’t wanna be paraded around like the butt of some joke at a ridiculous bachelor party. You wanna stay with me.”

“Cat, I… I really should keep the guys company.”

Clark faltered as Cat pulled the sheet away from herself, revealing some of the beach bunny body that’d be the envy of any Playboy playmate. With her bleach blonde hair and large, majestic breasts, Cat could’ve been right out of an episode of Baywatch, but that belied just how intelligent—and how kind—she could be. Still, Clark felt an almost entirely untoward attraction to how she presented herself as a bimbo.

“They probably haven’t even noticed you’re gone. C’mon, Clarkie. Stay with me. Play with me. Breed me, Clarkie. Breed me.”

“You don’t have to…” Clark gestured and as he did, Cat took his hand. He let himself be pulled in close to her and her magnificent body, all tits and ass and long, lean legs. She wrapped a creamy arm around his neck and fanned slender fingers onto his strong back. “You don’t have to act like, like some sort of, you know, fallen woman to get me to be interested in you, Cat.” He pushed up his glasses. “I think you’re very interesting just as you are.”

“Fallen woman?” Cat chuckled a little drunkenly, intoxicated with the nearness of him. “Do you mean a slut, Mr. Kent? Because I am a slut, Mistah Kent.” She led his hand to her plump lips and sucked on his forefinger, only reluctantly pulling her mouth off of it with a champagne bottle pop! “Just a slut for the right guy. A guy who gets me wet… and makes me smile… makes me laugh… makes me come…”

Her hands was down to his pants, feeling how his prick leapt at her touch. She stroked it through the cloth of his trousers.

“You’re so beautiful, Cat,” he mumbled. “You deserve—“

“To get what I want?” Cat interrupted. “I want you, Clarkie. And even if I don’t deserve you—I always get what I want…”

She took his face in her hands, giving him a sweet, lingering kiss. Clark willingly let his tongue go into her mouth, to play gently with her own.

Clark barely pulled himself away, but it was more like Cat let him go. She grinned at his retreating lips. “I’ll never want anyone but you, Clarkie. I’ll be your one-man woman. You fucked me so good tonight… so hard… so deep… I want you to do that again. Then stay with me, stay all night! Be mine? My husband? The father of my child?”

Clark could not feel anything but himself giving in, becoming more and more aroused by her loving touch. He cared for her. He had feelings for her. He didn’t feel any sense of betrayal or unfaithfulness toward Lois and Lana, but the same romance with Cat that he’d found with them. And with Cat provoking that feeling of love in him, how could he not respond to it?

But the suit… he couldn’t risk leaving it on. Cat would doubtlessly strip him—she wouldn’t be satisfied with him fucking her through his open fly twice. She’d want to be bare skinned with him, so he’d have to hide the suit. He could do it at superspeed, but she’d still notice something happening. She wasn’t really drunk, after all… just very unprepared for the rigors of Kryptonian sex. He’d have to find a way to hide the suit nearby without her noticing…

“C’mon, Clarkie.” Cat’s hand stole under his waistband but over his costume. She grabbed his stiff cock through the trunks, thankfully taking it as simple underwear. More importantly, she stroked his erection lovingly up and down. “You’re not going to disagree with me and him, are you?”

“No,” Clark said, loosening his tie. “But you have to do something for me.”

“Anything… anything…”

Clark pulled his tie from around his thick neck. “You have to let me blindfold you.”

Cat Grant grinned widely.

***

Dressed again, clinging to each other, Lois and Mercy stumbled back to their table, where Lana was getting a lapdance from ‘Marvelous Mark’. Lois gave him a pat on the ass. “Get a move on, Marky Mark. Girl talk.”

“We’re not in a very… boyish mood,” Mercy added.

Lana pouted as he left, carrying plenty of her dollar bills in his G-string. “You guys are no fun.”

“You’re getting married to Clark,” Lois pointed out. “Does that guy really compare?”

“Maybe not,” Lana conceded. “But Clark doesn’t have moves like him.”

“Oh, Clark has moves,” Lois countered.

Mercy nodded eagerly. “Definite moves.”

“You know what I mean. Not on the dance floor… or whatever.” Lana grinded the heel of her hand into her eye, trying to clear her head. “Does anyone else hear that loud buzzing…?”

“That’s my cell phone,” Lois said, fishing it out of her purse. It was a text from Clark.

Lois.

I’m going to be out for the night. Not the hobby, but I’ve ditched the bachelor party. Cat showed up and one thing led to another. She’s very affectionate toward me and it’s taken a lot for her to reach out like she has. If I have to let her down, I want to let her down easy, but I’d like to have a conversation with you and Lana (and Mercy, I suppose) about including Cat in this life we’re building. She’s a much better partner than most would give her credit for and I know she’s been a good friend to you, in her way. But let’s not talk about that too much over the phone. You get your thoughts in order and I’ll line up mine. There’s no rush to settle this. Right now, we can focus on the wedding, but I didn’t want to keep anything from you when it concerns our life together. XOXO

Lois texted back: k

“Wordy mofo,” she remarked. “I guess that’s what having the fastest thumbs in the West does to a guy.”

“Mmmm,” Lana moaned. “Thumbs…”

***

Clark stared at his phone, waiting for Lois to reply more to his text, but it seemed like that would be all he was getting for the moment.

Kneeling at his feet, her eyes blindfolded by his tie, Cat licked her lips. “C’mon, Clarkie. Feed your kitty. I can smell it, now I want to feel it…”

Back to the salt mines, Clark thought to himself, not without a wry sense of humor.

“Hey, was that your cell phone just now?” Cat asked. “Are you taking pictures of me? Can you give me a minute to blend my contours—“

Clark interrupted her with his cock deep in her mouth, into her throat, making her gag, gag and moan at the same time.

“That’s good,” he groaned, his own voice heavy at the moment. “Hold it there a minute. Yeah, like that…”

He made a noise deep in his chest, then pulled back and let Cat breathe. He kept coming away from her until only his glans were still in her mouth. Then he took hold of her head. Glanced at his cell phone, which was still dark, no light on the screen to indicate he’d gotten any messages. Clark considered using his superhearing to try to pick up Lois and Lana’s voices in hopes they might be thinking out loud, but no, giving them space then demanding to know what they were thinking would be too much a violation of their privacy. If he had reason to be concerned about their safety, he would check in, but between Lois and Lana and Mercy, it was hard to think of a situation they couldn’t handle.

So he supposed he would just have to fuck Cat’s face.

“Hold still,” he told Cat. “Keep your mouth open and hold still.”

“Just so long as you do the moving for both of us, Clarkie,” Cat simpered.

Clark chuckled lowly. He had to admit, she was a lot of fun.

He started rutting into her face and Cat moaned into his thrusting prick. He was treating her mouth like a cunt, a widespread opening meant to take his cock. He pumped his hips and his thick erection claimed Cat’s mouth, her throat, again and again.

Underneath the blindfold, Cat’s eyes rolled back in her head. She wondered how much she could take. Hopefully, Clark wouldn’t let a little thing like facefucking her into a stupor put an end to their fun.

***

“Cat fucking Grant,” Lois said as the waiter, wearing only leggings and a bowtie, brought them a tray of cocktails.

“Oh, I love her column,” Lana said, taking the remaining cocktail after Lois grabbed two. Mercy didn’t notice the theft, staring off into space to where Mark was working the pole.

“That’s nice,” Lois replied. “Clark loves her pussy.” She knocked back one of the cocktails. “Does anyone remember when Clark having both of us seemed like a big deal? You know, like almost a dealbreaker?”

“Hey,” Mercy said absently, still watching Mark do his dance.

“Mercy’s… pretty great, actually,” Lois conceded. “But fuck, Kara?”

“Yeah…” Lana said. “She’s a lot. But I guess there’s just something about Kryptonians…”

Lois watched suspiciously as Lana sipped her cocktail. Her reporter’s dander was up. That did not sound like how her old rival talked about people who were trying to steal her man, even if they’d worked out a peaceable arrangement.

“And about Kara, specifically?”

Lana pursed her lips. “She’s a lot.”

“You said that already.” Lois dropped her elbow onto the table, leaning over it to eye Lana up close. “You ask me, the little bitch could use an attitude adjustment. Sure, her super-ass can juggle tanker trucks, but it’s not like us Earthlings are short on power. We’ve got Wonder Woman, Captain Marvel, Aquaman, Power Girl…”

“She’s not an Earthling,” Mercy said without looking.

“She’s not? I thought she was from Atlantis. That’s on Earth, right?” Lois looked at her empty drink. “What’s in this? Fuck it, what’s in this?” She switched to the other glass and took a swig. “Fuck, spill, Lana. What’s going on with you and Kara?”

“Nothing!” Lana insisted, her face going through various pleading expressions of innocence. “We just fooled around some.”

“Fooled around? With Little Miss Perfect?”

“Okay, well, you know how Clark can be kinda… domineering?”

Mercy snickered. “Oh yeah.”

Lois elbowed her. “Hey, cool your jets, sister, you’ve been trying to kill him. Shut up and look at the pole dance.”

Mercy nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

After another sip, Lois refocused on Lana. “Are you trying to tell me you got topped by Supergirl?”

Lana was very attendant on inching her empty glass around to a proper position. “I might’ve… well, she might’ve… I guess I just go for the whole forceful, daddy kinda thing. Even if she’s a mommy. Or something.”

Lois looked around for the waiter. She needed some martinis for this conversation. “And they call me a cape chaser.”

“You’re not?” Lana asked.

“She so is,” Mercy laughed. “Me and Lex got video of Batman—”

“That was taken out of context!” Lois interrupted. “And for your information, he’s rich. I could just as easily be a gold digger.”

“What’s the difference?” Lana asked.

“Better fashion,” Lois said. “Some of Clark’s fangirls, they… Well, it’s not hard to see why Clark stays faithful.”

“He’s holding out for Cat Grant,” Mercy quipped.

“Bitch,” Lois snapped.

“Sorry.”

“Cat Grant?” Lana repeated. “I love her column!”

***

“Tighten your lips,” Clark said. And that was all the warning Cat got before he started coming. The semen boiled out of his prick, spurting from Cat’s tongue to the back of her throat. She had to swallow not to let it overflow her mouth. There was so much of it. She had thought there wouldn’t be that much after how Clark had already inundated her that night. Instead, she got a full load of hot cum, like he hadn’t climaxed in days. She didn’t so much gulp it down as let it force its way down her throat, feeding a fire in her belly.

When Clark was done, Cat pulled herself off his cock, her lips popping free of the erection that had strained them to the limit. She wanted that vacuum-sealed pop before he shrank any. “Now can I take the blindfold off?”

“No,” Clark told her, helping her up off her knees and propelling her to bed. He didn’t want her to see how hard he still was. She might end up with sleep deprivation.

He laid her down on her side, then eased himself down in front of her, letting her wrap herself around him from behind. Hopefully that would keep her from noticing his tumescence.

“Oh, you want me to be the big spoon?” Cat asked, wrapping her arms around his broad chest. “God, I love that, Clarkie. You’re not afraid to let a girl see your softer side…”

Her hand trailed down his chest hair, along the chiseled abs like brickwork, and then to the straining stiffness growing from his curling pubic hairs.

“Oh my God!” Cat gasped. “You really like me being the big spoon!”

Clark sighed. If he was going to marry Cat, he was going to have to find a more definite way to keep from ruining her sleep cycle.

***

“So, Kara isn’t so much into SuperMan as she is S&M,” Lois thought out loud. “Maybe we could use that.”

Lana giggled woozily. “Are we doing another scheme? Is that what we’re doing right now? I kinda thought we’d’ve outgrown that when we actually got Superman to marry us.”

“Superman set up one of the rooms in my apartment to have red sunlight in the—in the lightbulbs,” Lois explained. “You know how he is. Worried about General Zod coming to take me out.”

“He gave a green Kryptonite ring to Batman,” Mercy commented. “Maybe he’s a little more worried about the Black Knight.”

“No,” Lois contradicted her, the single syllable drawn out. “Batman isn’t black. And Clark didn’t want Kryptonite radiation that could lead someone to my apartment and wait are you sure it was shaped like a ring?”

“Are you seriously worried Clark is gay now?” Lana asked through her latest drink. “Because if the guy hasn’t asserted his masculinity enough with you at this point…”

“Forget it,” Lois snapped. “Kara. We need to deal with Kara. If we are going to be one big orgy, we can’t have one person running roughshod over the whole thing.”

“Other than you,” Mercy sniped.

“Other than—“ Lois began to agree with her, before dumping her own new drink down Mercy’s cleavage. “Listen! All of us, we’re a girl gang. We have a balance of power.”

“What power?” Lana asked. “Clark fucks all our brains out regularly.”

“Exactly!” Lois cried. “We’re all, like… you know. But Kara, she’s. She’s all Wonder Woman-y. She can give him a superfuck. We need to deal with her before she cuts us out of the loop.”

“Okay,” Mercy said. “Where is she?”

Lois moved to throw her drink in Mercy’s face before remembering it was empty. A lone ice cube inched out of the horizontal glass and fell to the floor. “That’s a good point,” she said as if nothing had happened, as indeed it had (hadn’t). “Let’s just go find Clark and remind him that we saw him first.”

“I saw him first,” Lana said.

“I think Kara saw him as a baby,” Mercy said.

Lois set her empty glass down. “I wish this place had bottle service.”