Superman & Lois: A Bigger Family (Patreon)

How many weeks, months, years did it take to put back together a broken life?

Lois didn’t know—at this point, she’d been with Clark for so long that it was like he’d always been there for her. Even when she’d miscarried, she’d had him.

Lana wasn’t so fortunate. Her marriage had been unhappy to begin with—or rather, it had become so by the time the Kents had come back into her life. Then her husband had been taken from her, possessed by a long-dead Kryptonian. They’d been able to cure some of Edge’s victims, but not all of them. And not Kyle. He was gone, and whatever he might’ve done to save his marriage was now forever denied to his widow.

Lois couldn’t know what she was going through, but it felt like that added insult to injury—robbed Lana of closure. If they’d separated, there might’ve been a note of finality to it. If he’d died while they were on better terms, than at least Lana would have her memories. Instead, a cut that should’ve been clean and precise was messy and painful and festering.

For months now, the Kents had practically taken Lana in. Tending to her children, running errands for her, trying to clear all the space they could for her to work through the feelings that they felt responsible for, letting Edge get away with his crimes for as long as he had. Lois knew Lana blamed herself too. Even if Kyle had gone behind Lana’s back to join Edge’s program, it was still impossible for her to blame him. It was even hard to blame Edge—Lana was too sweet to properly hate the man who was, in the end, truly responsible for it all.

At least Lois had a sense of pride in her family. Jonathan and Jordan were sweethearts, acting as brotherly as could be to Lana’s girls, while Clark was a model godfather to them and Lois herself tried to play aunt. Lois also felt a streak of guilt running through that pride. As troubled as her family was, she still had it. She had Clark. She knew what a good man he was, knew how much better Lana’s life would’ve been if things had worked out with her and him. It made Lois almost feel like she’d stolen something from Lana. Maimed her, even.

That Kent sense of responsibility was powerful stuff.

So here they were, spending another night in with a bottle of wine. Lois’s boys had taken out Lana’s girls, who of course appreciated a night on the town more than an evening in with the grown-ups, so all there was to do was nurse Lana through her moroseness.

Clark told stories about growing up in Smallville, stories Lana could half-finish, but didn’t. Usually, Lois would feel a bit excluded by these shared memories, but with Lana so maudlin, she wished she could go back to her worried paranoia that Lana would steal her high school beau back from Lois.

It felt almost obscene to her, having Clark, his comforting warmth that she would hold onto in the night—that she could kiss and caress and feel anytime she wanted, while Lana was shut out. She could look but not touch; see their togetherness but not have it herself. It seemed so unfair.

At least Lana knew when to call it quits with the wine. When she finished her third glass, she set it down on the coffee table with resounding finality. “Thanks for staying up with me, but all I really feel like doing is going to bed early. I’ve taken up too much of your time anyway. You mind if I use your guest room again? I’ll get some rest and you can do whatever you want to do.”

“All we really want to do tonight is keep you company,” Clark assured her, “but if you need your rest, you need your rest.”

Lana ran her tongue along the inside of her mouth, twisting her hips a little to the left and to the right. “Maybe what I really need is just to be in a house that doesn’t feel so empty. I always get such a good night’s rest over here. I’d be over all the time if you didn’t need your privacy.”

Lana was facing Clark, so Lois came up behind her, wrapping her arms around Lana’s waist in a supportive embrace, her chin set on Lana’s shoulder. “Hey, you are never intruding on us. We’re here for you. As far as Clark and I are concerned, you’re family. This place is as much yours as ours.”

“You know Ma,” Clark added, coming forward to wrap both women up in an enormous bear-hug. “She wouldn’t want anything else—for any of us.”

Lana took a deep breath, her lithe body heaving against both husband and wife, and Lois finally felt, gratifyingly, like they were getting through to her. Like Lana’s walls were coming down, some of that sea of inconsolable grief inside her finally leaking out. She heard a sniffle and knew there was a tear on Lana’s cheek. She nuzzled her face to Lana’s.

Big, tall Clark couldn’t stoop to hug Lana like she could, but his stalwart, masculine physique was its own kind of comfort. Lois petted his chest as she hugged Lana, all her jealousy put aside. It was hard not to be a little envious of how Lana had gotten to have Clark in her life for so long, but now, she was just grateful that she had such a good man, who could give so much of himself to a friend, be partners with her as they both tried to help Lana back to her feet.

Then Lois felt Clark stiffen, a palpable tension now in the air. Lois was too attuned to Clark’s moods to make any mistake. And she knew the man—he wasn’t the innocuous hayseed he’d pretended to be so often in Metropolis. As Superman, he’d seen pretty much everything under the sun. So the only thing that could really embarrass him was if he’d sensed something sexual, something Lana was doing, something she was feeling. And it wasn’t hard to guess what that was, with Lana wrapped in Clark’s arms.

Lois was not patient, Lois was decisive. A long time ago, when she didn’t know Clark and Superman could count their differences on a pair of spectacles, she’d gotten used to the idea of being in love with both of them. Comfortable with the notion of sharing, since, after all, she was the one being shared. Obviously, it hadn’t exactly come up, but Lois hadn’t gotten prudish now that she was a mom. Now she saw a way to finally get through to Lana, to really help her, and all it required was that she share Clark. Well, she already shared him with the whole world—and most days, she liked the world a lot less than she did Lana.

She pulled Lana aside, an arm wrapped around her shoulders. “Lana, before you call it a night, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Lois,” Lana replied.

Clark picked up the wine bottle and put the cork back into it. He seemed relieved no longer to be noticing Lana’s reaction to him. Lois knew he’d feel guilty about it, feel it was his fault Lana had gotten turned on, but she had no intention of raking either of them over the coals. Lana was probably equally embarrassed. They’d need Lois to put that squeamishness behind them.

“I know things with you and Kyle,” Lois paused, “that they weren’t where you wanted them to be before he passed. But I have to ask—when was the last time the two of you were intimate?”

Lana blinked in disbelief, sobering with shock. “Lois, how can you ask me that?” she demanded, sounding hurt.

She tried to pull away, but Lois wouldn’t let her. “Wait, wait. I was just thinking… maybe that’s why you’ve had such a hard time moving on. You really suffered a double loss. Not only was your husband taken from you, but even before that, you lost being touched, being loved… being made to feel beautiful. The things every woman deserves. Especially one as kind and as gorgeous as you are.”

Tears were welling up in Lana’s eyes. Clark nervously kneaded the bottle in his hands. “Lois, maybe we should pick this up some other time—”

“Why not now?” Lois insisted. “This is when she’s feeling it, so why shouldn’t we talk about how she feels?”

“Do you want to humiliate me?” Lana brought her hand up, cleaning her eyes of tears with the back of her fist. “Make me admit that I’m jealous of you, having Clark… embarrass me for still wanting him after all these years?”

“No, that’s not what I want at all. I… You’re a good person, Lana. No one here wants anything but for you to be happy. Even just to want to be happy. For so long, I’ve watched you barely be able to get up in the morning, you want so little to do with the world. And now you want something. How could I possibly deny it to you?”

Lana blinked, the incensed look easily leaving her face—like she didn’t have the strength to stay angry—replaced with a look of befuddlement. “What are you talking about? You think I want your husband… and you’re—you don’t…”

Clark tried to play peacemaker, just like he’d stop a train from derailing. “Look, we’ve all had a good bit of wine, maybe we should continue this conversation in the morning, when we’re well-rested…”

“Why wait?” Lana turned to him, some fire finally in her eyes. “I’ve wanted you since the third grade. I had you in high school and I lost you and I still want you. God, if I were going to stop wanting you, it would’ve happened by now. But every time I see you… and I just keep seeing you, because now you’re here, where I live, and I’m supposed to stop thinking about you.”

Lois approached her from behind, her hands lightly landing on Lana’s shoulders, reassuringly squeezing and massaging at the tension now knotting up Lana’s body. The tension she was just now letting show.

“If he were yours,” Lois whispered, “and I loved him the way you do… would you let me have him?”

Lana turned her head slightly to the side, enough to see Lois behind her, but enough to keep looking at Clark. She eyed him like a skittish deer, like a bird that had landed on her outstretched hand. Like she was worried if she looked away, he’d fly off, might never even have been real in the first place.

“If he loved you the way he does now,” Lana said slowly, “I could never stand between you.”

Clark sighed deeply. He had to drag the admission out from deep inside him, and he would’ve thought doing it in front of Lois would make it difficult, but instead, it was like she gave him absolution. “I’ve never stopped loving you. I just started loving Lois too.”

“Then why don’t we all do something about it?”

Lois’s hands traced down Lana’s flanks to her midriff, where her white tanktop met her blue jeans. They skirted her belt to the buckle. Lois worked the clasp open, Lana holding her hands carefully abreast, making sure to let Lois do it. Like it was a blessing she was being sure to receive.

“What did you do?” Lois breathed in Lana’s ear. “When he was yours?”

She unzipped Lana’s fly.

“He never had me, never took me… oh God,” Lana whimpered. “I was his—I would’ve given him everything—but we never did anything about it. We just kissed… and touched… and I let him lick me. I would’ve let him do anything…”

“Of course. But all he wants to do is appreciate us,” Lois said with a wry grin, as she tugged Lana’s jeans down until she took over, kicking them off her bare feet. “Smartest guy I know, but too dumb to realize what we really appreciate…”

Lana’s panties were white and lacey, crowning her firm thighs, combining with her white tanktop to look like lingerie on Lana’s magnificent body. Age and two children hadn’t diminished her body at all, they’d merely given her thick thighs and proud breasts, gorgeously swelling out the front of her tanktop with no bra in the way.

Lois’s hands caressed Lana’s thigh, petted her groin. Lana closed her eyes and keened.

“You got him to lick you. Let’s pick up where you left off. Clark, would you please lick Lana’s cunt?”

Lana trilled like she’d had a small orgasm, heard a word that gave her permission to come. She went willingly as Lois pulled her down into an easy chair with her, down onto her lap, and she spread her legs wide, too overwhelmed to realize she still had her panties on.

“Get her panties too, Clark,” Lois purred politely, still holding Lana in her lap, feeling how the other woman’s body vibrated, a pulse of electricity entering her with every word Lois spoke. Shocking her back to ecstatic, sensual life. “She won’t be needing them.”

One look through Lana’s thin, wet panties at her sex and Clark had all the license he needed. The motivation was already there—to please both the women he loved, to give Lana what she needed and Lois what she wanted.

He ripped away Lana’s panties like tissue paper, then dropped to his knees between her legs. Between her legs and Lois’s.

“Make me come, Clark,” Lana whined. Lois kissed her cheek in reward for wanting, for finally wanting something for herself.