The voyeurism thing is totally an accident. At least in the beginning.
It happens like this.
One evening Kara comes to the office after hours. Lena texted her to let her know she would be late, and the swoosh and thud coming from her balcony, while welcome and familiar, send electric blue surprise tingling down her spine.
“I brought you something to eat.” Kara says, as soon as Lena lets her in, and it’s clear from the glint in her eye that she doesn’t mean food. The fact that the grey slacks she’s wearing do nothing to conceal her bulge drives the words home. All it takes is one assessing glance and Lena knows Kara’s packing the biggest cock she owns.
In something of a Pavlovian reflex, her heart stalls. Her mouth waters.
It’s not long before she’s on her knees, and yeah, maybe the voyeurism thing is totally an accident, but Lena cannot say that there have not been any signs. She can’t pretend the spot she chooses for the kneeling isn’t random, but as close to the windows as is feasible when they do this — late night snacking, Kara fondly calls it — or that she secretly wishes someone from one of the nearby downtown offices would happen to look up and see.
An irrational desire to have. Career-ending most certainly. But Lena can’t help wishing and hoping.
Lena's just never self-examined until now.
Still, when it happens that someone does walk in on them, the experience feels more like a nightmare.
The moment arrives with little fanfare. A soft knock at the office door, and before Lena has time to freeze, or pull away from Kara — or even comprehend what’s about to happen — Jess is poking her head inside.
“Miss Luthor I forgot to— oh .” Lena can’t honestly say who between the two of them is blushing the hardest. “I’m so sorry— I didn’t— I mean—”
“There’s no need to apologize, Miss Hoang. You couldn’t have known.” Bless Kara for bringing the situation under control. Fuck Kara for nudging herself that much deeper in her throat, turning Lena’s muffled hum of agreement into a wet gurgle.
“I’m going to go, Miss Luthor.” To her credit, Jess recovers quickly. Then again she’s seen plenty of odd things over the years. “You, uh, you enjoy the rest of your evening.”
“Oh, we will.” Kara whispers once the door clicks shut. She gives a few shallow thrusts, hand loosely clasped around Lena’s throat. Not squeezing the air out of her just yet, but relishing the sensation of the muscles working to accommodate her.
Lena knows because she loves it too.
The voyeurism thing definitely starts by happenstance, and is the sort of unseen object you trip over in the dark. But then they talk about it, and it doesn’t stay a one time freak accident for long.
They talk about it later, after Kara’s flown them home and taken care of her in all the ways that count. It’s not even sexual at this point, even though Lena’s legs are definitely still weak from the height of sucking Kara’s strap. Even if there is an insistent, unspent tension in her belly.
Kara just knows an orgasm isn’t exactly what Lena needs now. Somehow, she always knows what Lena needs, before Lena herself does.
Maybe it’s her superhearing, the tells and quirks of Lena’s heart. How it is still rattling in her chest, spooked by the unscripted encounter. Excitement and fear, buffeting her like high seas do a ship during a storm.
Lena feels defenseless.
She’s aware of the slick sticking her panties to her folds, and of the almost painful jolt of pleasure Jess’s gaze landing on her sent through her body. She doesn’t know what to do with that information, which is a first.
Usually, Lena is great at putting things into boxes. She excels at ignoring, knows compartmentalization like the back of her hand. She’s learned from a young age to survive the unexpected — and honestly, with the kind of verbal warfare Lillian would unleash over dessert how could she not? — but this is something too big to be stored out of sight. It refuses to be labeled.
So, much later in the dark, after Kara’s helped her change into her favorite silk pajamas, they finally talk about it. Kara’s changed as well, although for her it’s boxers and one of Lena’s oversized MIT t-shirts, plus the soft packer she prefers to wear for bed.
As always Lena finds a measure of comfort in all that. In how good and tangible and solid it feels when Kara simply turns her on her side, her hands strong, and oh so very gentle, before she slips under the blankets too and shimmies close, and pulls her in until it feels that Lena’s entire body is tucked into the protective circle of her arms. Kara’s hips perfectly fit against her rear, drawn by an irresistible magnetic field their legs twine, and Kara settles into her with a soft sigh, nose bumping the shell her ear.
It’s perfect . It’s like a warm summer day is giving her a hug, but the pounding of Lena’s heart doesn’t quieten. Her thoughts don’t slow down the way they usually do when it’s this peaceful in their bedroom, the door locked, the world kept at bay. A wave of cold panic creeps in on her instead.
Sucks the heat off of her bones.
“Hey. It’s okay.” Kara shushes, pulling back slightly. Lena chases the loss of contact with a confused whine, flailing backwards in the bed, but grabbing only empty air. It’s one, too long moment, but when Kara returns, she’s not wearing a t-shirt anymore. The back of Lena’s pajama top is rucked up and out of the way, and Kara’s naked torso presses into her.
Suddenly, there’s almost too much skin sliding against her spine and it’s difficult to process, but that’s what ultimately stops her from spiraling out of control.
“It’s okay, Lena. It’s okay and you’re safe.” Kara’s hand curves around her ribcage, fingers seeking out her heartbeat as if Kara thinks it can be tamed by touch alone.
It fucking works.
Lena sinks back into the feeling. Into safety. Into the warm body sheltering her own.
With Kara being taller, she ends up sort of draped on Lena’s back when she’s the big spoon. As a result, the bulge in her boxers rides higher than it would if they were the same height, pushing against Lena’s tailbone, and although this packer is different than the one Kara was wearing in the office — understated is the word that comes to mind — Lena clings to this feeling too. It grounds her as it always does, in a way she can’t properly put into words. Everything is more intimate like this. In the dark, in their nest of warmth under the blankets, Kara’s fingertips tracing idle circles over her heart.
Lena coasts the line that separates wakefulness and sleep, and the thoughts she’s having — about her earlier reaction — aren’t threatening to crush her anymore.
“Did it turn you on?” Kara asks eventually, breath stirring the small hairs at the nape of Lena’s neck. She’s found a knot of tension on Lena’s right shoulder and has set herself the task of unraveling it as she speaks. “Jess, walking in on us.”
The memory is searing white light exploding behind Lena’s eyelids and she doesn’t immediately reply. She’s sure her silence is a dead giveaway anyhow, stretching on and on until it seems like she might snap in half with the tension. And if not the lack of a response, the scent of her arousal. She knows Kara can smell it, even though she chooses not to remark upon that fact.
Okay, maybe Lena’s still a little frightened.
Her breath hitches, or the rest of her back grows taut, because Kara’s arm around her waist tightens, and she makes a soft, questioning noise.
“We don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to.”
She’s offering an out that Lena almost takes. Almost. But her brain is kinda stuck on the ache that still lingers between her thighs, which thuds harder when she rubs and presses them together. And she’s already figured out how many zeroes she should add to Jess’s salary to make things up to her — as if money can somehow erase the image of her boss on her knees, sucking her partner off — so she doesn’t have anything else to think about.
She understands then, what opening up to her must have cost Kara. She’s living it too. Yes, it’s two different things, but the root of the problem is one and the same.
It is so beyond terrifying to finally feel seen .
And Lena is so desperate for it.
Again, it isn’t sexual. Well — it is, but it’s not just that.
Lena isn’t an exibitionist. She’s had a lifetime in the spotlight, not always for the right reasons, mostly not by choice. So it’s not the thought of people watching that turns her on so much — not solely — but the knowledge that nothing bad can happen to her if Kara’s near.
She can be on her knees with her mouth wrapped around Kara’s cock, vulnerable and dripping and open, and Kara’ll still protect her.
“You know it did.” She croaks with a voice that’s been dragged to and fro through a quarry a couple of times. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“You don’t have to, you know.” Lena twists in Kara’s arms, spurred by the need of seeing her expression as she says that.
It’s dark inside the room but not pitch black, and Lena’s eyes are keen enough to show her the tender look on Kara’s face. “I mean you don’t have to stop thinking about it, around me. You don’t have to hide it.” Kara continues slowly, her eyebrows pinched with the effort of picking the right words. She’s always so careful. Being surrounded by the fragility of man made her overcautious. “I don’t mind.”
“You don’t?” Lena turns around fully, so that they’re lying chest to chest. If Kara was still wearing a t-shirt, her hands would fasten at the collar, but since she’s not, Lena’s fingers hook around the elastic band of Kara’s boxer briefs.
“Nu-uh.” Kara’s smiling, she can tell. “It’s hot, to be honest.”
“Yes. The way you quickened?” Kara’s hands cover Lena’s, pry her off gently, but only to guide her on her back. Only so that Kara can nudge her thighs apart with one knee and nestle in between them with a slow roll of her hips. “Your heartbeat, I could almost taste it. Besides, I think we might have awakened something for Jess.”
“Can you please not say that ever again?” Lena pleads, a little on the side of breathless. Kara’s bearing down with all her weight, and her bulge is rubbing right over her stiffened clit. “Actually, can we just save this talk for another time and—” Kara grinds down, and she unravels into a whine.
“Yes.” Kara kisses her hard. “Talk later. Make you cum now.”
They put the talking aside for the remainder of the night, but it’s something they circle back to frequently in the next couple of weeks.
It’s never planned, really, and Lena prefers it that way. Investigating too much, all at once — she just doesn't have the spoons for it. It’s organic, slow, a discovery of the self they take at the pace she dictates, with Kara as a sounding board.
Despite Kara’s reassurances, fear shadows her in the beginning, and that’s perhaps the biggest hurdle on her path. It’s going to take research, Lena decides, before she can even consider consciously indulging in this particular subset of kink.
First of all, she needs to be sure. What if it was just a fluke? Her mind derailing off of its habitual neural pathways, her thought processes disrupted by Jess’s sudden appearance? It’s one thing to fantasize in hypotheticals next to armored windows she knows, knows, knows are reflective on the outside. It’s another to willingly, consciously subject oneself to the avid eyes of strangers whilst she’s —
— being used. Lena wants Kara to use her in front of people. But, like, she needs to understand the whys and hows and most of all she needs more proof .
One occurrence does not a case study make.
No, Lena needs tangible parameters. Numbers she can crunch, variables to document and analyze. A sample pool, scenarios to be run — that she can control this time around. Risk assessment and all that.
And, then there’s the Kara factor, which is the one thing Lena can’t predict reactions for. Kara seems accepting, eager even. But what if she’s just adapting to her needs? Worse still, she could be lying.
Lena refuses to board that line of thought to its inevitable terminus. They’ve been there. They’ve lied to one another before. Big lies. Lies that hurt, that cut deep and left them both for dead. They lie about small silly things only now, as most couples do sometimes. Over how many shots of espresso Lena sinks during one day, or the number of Mars bars Kara hoovers as part of her post-workout snack regime. Who took the trash out last. On who is the worst blanket thief between the two of them, they just gloss over. A mutually agreed lie by omission.
But Kara wouldn’t lie to her about something this important. It took them so much effort to rebuild what they now have, it makes no sense to throw it all away.
Still, Lena can’t help that the thought sneaks up on her whenever she’s letting her guard down. Kara doesn’t waste words in reassuring her, because she instinctively understands that for someone who’s wired into expecting the people she opens up with to betray her, words mean very little.
Kara’s love language is that of a magpie.
She brings Lena bits and shiny pieces she’ll find while on patrol. Quartz from the desert. Buckwheat and morning glory and mariposa lilies from the park two blocks from their apartment. Things from further off, like her favorite scones from Ireland or pastries from Stohrer a stone’s throw away from Le Champ de Mars in Paris. Just useless trinkets that make Kara think of her, or so she loves repeating as she presses the next offering into Lena’s outstretched hands with a small, adoring smile.
That’s how Kara reminds Lena that she loves her. Still. No matter what. With every little rock, or feather, or strange object she brings back — they all sit pretty on a bookshelf in their home, and are starting to spill over a second.
Kara brings her something everyday. Unwavering and punctual like clockwork.
But, most of all, Kara just listens .
In the weeks after the incident, they spend many an evening cuddled on the couch under Kara’s favorite fleece blanket, Lena’s laptop balanced on her knees. She walks Kara through her spreadsheets, the hypotheses she’s making. The relevant literature she found.
Kara sits quiet, her hands doing all the talking. They hold Lena close, and steady her without fail especially when doubt gnaws at her the hardest.
“I’m sorry,” Lena sighs roughly a fortnight after Jess surprised them in the act. “I’m sorry it’s such a chore to love me.”
Kara inclines her head and blinks, a shadow of confusion falling across her face. It’s a Saturday evening, and they’ve just come back from a long afternoon walk.
They filled their time with light topics and laughter, and spent a good half hour by the pond in the park with Kara trying to entice the local murder of crows into eating corn directly from her palm. A handsy, cold wind is what chased them back inside — at least as far as Lena is concerned. Kara isn’t affected by the chill, which doesn’t stop her from sharing the warmth of her body with Lena.
“I don’t understand.” She confesses, lower lip caught between her teeth as she thinks Lena’s words over. “Why would you say that?”
“I just feel that I am being such a burden on this.” Lena has to look away then, too frightened to find agreement flash in the oceanic depths of Kara’s gaze. Her eyes roam to the window, to the city beyond, steeped in the cool hues of blue hour — that stretch of refracted light between sunset and true night.
“Hey.” Kara’s fingers wrap around her chin and force her to turn back. “Love is work. We all need to share our burdens sometimes. So yeah, it takes work for me to love you, just like it takes work for you to love me .” Her voice dips to an abraded whisper. “I sense how you worry whenever you see me fly off on a mission. I can hear your heart jump in your chest while I’m gone. I know you fight to stay awake until I’ve made it back safe. Even if you pretend to be asleep when I come in through the window.” Chuckling lightly, Kara rests their foreheads together, and pulls Lena in until they’re clinging to each other, bodies flush. “You’re worth all the work it takes to love you, and there’s nothing else I’d rather do. No one else I’d rather be with.”
Too overwhelmed to speak, Lena buries her face in the crook of Kara’s neck, breathing of her deeply. A little of the outside chill lingers on her skin like morning brine on grass, but underneath she’s warm, and Lena burrows deeper, confident that no words are necessary on her part for Kara to perceive her love.
Because, if Kara with her gathering and her nesting speaks the love language of birds, Lena’s own is more reserved. It resides in the beats and the pauses and the missteps of her heart.
And only Kara can hear it.
They start slow.
The idea of a sex club, which Kara shared with nonchalance over breakfast, is arousing to Lena in ways that leave her cunt slick and her heart trying to beat straight out of chest, but the accompanying nausea — the taste of bile in the back of her throat — tell her she’s not quite ready for that.
In the beginning, it’s just places where they could potentially get caught. Her office again, but this time while she’s on her lunch break, with Kara’s thickest strap buried inside her to the flaring base — a knot, whatever that means in marketing spiel — and two fingers flexing in her ass.
It’s Alex’s small bathroom during game night, and Alex definitely knows what they’ve been up to because one of them excusing herself right after the other isn’t really subtle.
Kara’s sister says nothing, but keeps shooting Lena pointed looks that leave her flushed below her collar. Until she grows bold enough to undo the first button of the shirt she’s wearing that night, exposing the purple hickey Kara’s sucked into the hollow of her throat. And then, when the beer Alex is drinking goes down the wrong way, she’s almost an accessory to murder.
Things escalate when Lena decides she owes Kara something for her unquestioning support. While the fear she’s being a burden has considerably lessened after they talked, she still feels a measure of guilt over her self-exploration.
The idea takes a few days to develop, and about another week of working late hours in her private lab at L-Corp. Worst part of it all though, is she can’t tell Kara what she’s up to, which skirts very close to a lie.
But, just before she can grow too uncomfortable with the secrecy, the prototype is done, and she can bring it home for Kara — well, for Kara to try.
Lena’s a bit nervous about it, to be honest.
Choosing what packers or cocks for play to buy is something that’s always fallen squarely in Kara’s domain. She involves Lena in her choices for those she wears during sex and it could not be otherwise, but Lena’s made it clear that aside from an occasional consultation on size, Kara’s free to pick out what feels the best — rightest — to her.
Figuring out the best way to give Kara her gift is one of the hardest things she’s ever done — it takes her almost as long to deliberate as building the prototype did — and in the end Lena waits for a Saturday in which they’ve got nothing else planned.
The weather abets her plans. Morning begins so grey that it feels it hasn’t dawned at all, and they laze in bed for hours past waking up, loath to leave each other’s arms.
“I’ve got something I wanted to give you.” Lena reveals, soothing Kara’s whine of disappointment when she does climb out of bed. “Here.” She leaves for the time necessary to retrieve the box she prepped from the bottom drawer of her dresser. “I hope you’ll like it.”
Mostly, she hopes she’s not crossing a line.
The box is sturdy black plastic, burgundy silk padding the inside. Lena’s entertained they idea of making it widely available — should it work as she intends — and based the packaging on that particular industry’s standards.
When Kara pops open the lid her eyes round out, showing the white.
“Oh, Rao .” She goes to pull the prosthetic out, but stops short. “How... ? Where did you get this?”
“I developed it.” Lena feels a blush creep in. “I thought —”
“For me? You made it for me ?”
Lena wordlessly nods, her entire face tingling when Kara finally lifts the prosthetic cock from its housing. “The outside layer is a synthetic skin we’ve had in development at L-Medical for a while now.” Seeing that Kara’s saying nothing, only staring, mouth open, Lena rushes to explain. “Originally we meant it to supplant skin grafting, but I went ahead and adapted the design.”
“It feels… smooth .” Kara’s fingers run along the shaft, and her eyes are dreamy. “Real. How does it work?”
“So that part,” Lena points, “is meant to, for a lack of a better term, meld to your pelvis. It should be seamless.” Now that she’s on the familiar ground of the technical specifics, Lena regains confidence. “There’s an instruction manual in the box that will show you how to, uhm, operate it.”
“Or you can show me.” Kara immediately says. She’s grinning wide, and Lena’s back unclenches.
“If you’d like.” Lena knows she would. “But anyway, that’s not all.” The shaft is soft in Kara’s hands now, as it would naturally hang when the wearer isn’t aroused. And therein lies the difference with anything else currently available on the market.
“No. But…” On the one hand, Lena’s really eager for Kara to try it on and see what it can do. On the other, why can’t she just read the instructions? The theory of it all is rather more embarrassing to explain than Lena thought. “It’s… it’s supposed to interface with your nervous system. A sympathetic connection. This particular prototype will only activate for you, by the way. I’ve—”
“Yes?” Setting the prosthetic aside, Kara takes her hand, cradling it in both of hers. Her eyes are so blue Lena could drown. “You’ve what?”
“I’ve encoded it with your heat-signature and DNA structure.” Lena falters. She means well, but that information is classified, and her access to it wasn’t — how shall she put it — orthodox . “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Lena…” They’ve been sitting on the bed for the entire conversation, and now Kara pulls her close, fingers threading through her hair, tilting her head back to capture her lips in a soft kiss. “How could I ever mind something like this? It’s... “ She pulls in a breath, licking her lips. “Can we try it?”
She doesn’t say I , but we, as if she’s already got an inkling what’s in store.
“Yeah.” Emotion has Lena’s throat dry. She still remembers the first time she saw Kara try to pack. A glimpse of her, caught through a door left ajar. Kara had been standing in front of a full mirror, wearing only boxer briefs, hips twisting this way and that as she stared at her reflection the way one would look at a stranger they’d surprised lurking in their house.
Knowing she was the accidental witness to something private, Lena hadn’t lingered. Kara would share with her, if and when she was ready. She had.
She’s sharing now.
“It’s probably best if you remain seated the first time you put it on.” Lena cautions as Kara enthusiastically shimmies out of her underwear. “The connection can be… intense until you’ve gotten used to it.”
The one Kara is so carefully holding is not the first prototype, strictly speaking. Lena had to find a way to run preliminary testing after all, and she’s well aware of the effects the initial connection can have.
“Okay.” Kara gestures. “Do you mind…? I m— mean…. can you?”
Barely daring to breathe, Lena folds down to her knees, Kara’s thighs shaking as they part for her. Together they fit the shaft to Kara’s pelvis, watching the synthetic skin find the points of contact with Kara’s own. It merges with her, practically indistinguishable, and Lena’s hands move to Kara’s knees, anticipating what comes next.
“Just breathe.” It takes a few moments for the nanotechnology of the prosthetic to read the flow of data Kara’s body is now feeding into it, recognize it as compatible and activate. The more Kara will wear it, the faster the process will become. Part of the innovation is that these particular nanobots can learn .
Medically speaking, the impact this technology can have is revolutionary, but Lena pushes such thoughts aside. That may come later. Now it’s about Kara.
“ Rao .” Kara jolts like she’s just being touched by a live wire. “I can… it’s…” She cuts off with a choked sob, and Lena is hastily pulled back to her feet and on her lap. The angle is awkward, with Kara trying not to jostle her too much, and they end up tangled on the bed, Lena splayed inelegantly on top, like a weighted blanket.
“There’s… I don’t know, it feels that someone turned on extra lights inside my head.” Kara’s breaths come out a bit ragged, and Lena can see her quickened pulse thump-thumping at her throat. “I never dreamt this could… that I could… thank you .” Dissolving into tears, Kara buries her face in Lena’s shoulder, crying softly.
A suspended sort of silence befalls them, broken only by Kara’s quiet sniffles. Lena hugs her tight, the way Kara cradled her so many other times, until after some time Kara wipes at the corners of her eyes. They’re still watery, but her smile is luminous, rivaling the sun for brightness.
“I think you can stand now.” Clearing her throat, Lena scoots back. One of the things she’d first realized during testing is how reactive the prosthetic is in the beginning. And, while she’s not at all opposed to the idea of Kara discovering everything it has to offer, a small window of acclimation is in order.
Following her advice, Kara climbs to her feet. They’ve been living together for months, which means they’re technically past the blushing phase when they catch one another in varying stages of undress. However, a delicate shade of pink dusts Kara’s cheeks, and it doesn’t look like she’ll stop blushing anytime soon.
“Wow.” A few steps and she’s standing in front of the mirror, the way Lena’s seen her that one night. “It feels so good. Like it’s part of me.”
“It’s supposed to.” Lena comes up behind her, arms loosely wrapping around her waist. She modelled the prosthetic cock after Kara’s favorite hard packer in terms of size and girth, then let an algorithm calculate how it ought to look fully erect or soft. “It will, uhm, react to stimuli and your, uh, emotional state.” God, but she’s stammering a lot. “I mean, like—” She watches Kara watch her blush into oblivion.
“Get hard?” Kara’s fingers twine with hers, squeezing gently. “You mean I can get hard?”
“Uh, uh.” Thank fuck Kara is a few inches taller than her, making it easier to duck behind the cover of her back. “And ejaculate among some other features...”
“Other... features ?” Kara whips around, and God, but it’s as though someone injected liquid confidence into her veins. She grabs Lena by the waist, thumbs rubbing almost bruising circles on her hips, and pushes into her space. Oh, yeah. The nanobots are definitely catching on her mood.
She’s getting hard.
“Well, now I really want to take it for a test drive.”
They drift to the shower naturally, shedding what is left of their clothing as they go.
It's like they share a need to feel one another under the jets of water, stroking, palming, grabbing at each other.
"Waterproof." Lena has bracketed Kara between herself and the tiled wall, but even so, at the first brush of her fingers Kara's knees almost give out.
Lena can sympathise. Her own feel weak and tremble as if made of Jell-o.
Thanks to Kara's body heat and that of the shower, the synthetic skin of the prosthetic has warmed up, and the weight of it is hefty in her palm. It was one thing to try on the first model and see if it worked in the lab. It’s entirely different to see the joy it’s bringing to Kara.
"It's built to last." Lena wraps her first around it giving it a demonstrative tug. "You can be rough with it, if you want."
"And can I be rough with you?"
Kara's mouthing at her neck, licking at the water gathered there. Her teeth flash and Lena arches into her, moaning with the sting of the bite. She has no idea whether it’s the steam curling up in visible white clouds around them, or Kara’s proximity, but she’s suddenly light headed. Drunk on the feeling of Kara’s body slip-sliding against hers.
" Please ."
A switch is thrown inside of Kara. Her eyes grow dark, her pupils blown so wide the perfect blue of her irises is all but obscured. She burns against Lena. Hotter than a newborn star.
Before Lena can protest — or stop her — their positions are reversed, and Kara is lifting her up by the back of her thighs, already thrusting forward.
“Rao, you’re so wet.” Kara’s hips jerk into hers, the head of her cock glancing against her slit. “I can feel it drip on me. I love it when you get this messy.”
“I get this messy only for you.” Lena whispers, grinding forward. Despite the fact she’s wrapped her legs around Kara, the angle is probably not going to work too well, meaning they’ll have to relocate, but for now she just enjoys how firm Kara feels against her cunt.
How she’s finding some sort of rhythm to her thrusts, rubbing and pressing right on top of Lena’s swollen clit.
“You better.” There’s a playful lilt to Kara’s voice, but the way it lowers to a growly, possessive baritone melts right into her bones. “Rao, I can tell how bad you want it.”
“Do I ever not want you, darling?” Lena cups her face, kissing her hard, and because they’re right under the water jet they run out of breath twice as fast and taper off into sputters. “I think we need to move things back to the bedroom.” With a begrudging nod, Kara puts her back down, but before she can step out of the shower, Lena stops her.
“I thought you wanted to go back to bed, love.” Kara’s grin is teasing.
“I do, but I also want to take a good look at you like this.” With water dripping off of her sun-kissed skin in rivulets, highlighting the cuts of her muscles. A goddess just emerged from the wet embrace of the sea. Fuck, Lena would lick her dry if Kara asked her to. “You are so handsome.”
Unable to resist, Lena presses the flat of her hand to Kara’s stomach, then slowly lets it crawl ever downwards, fingers playing with the thatch of hair from which her shaft now rises. “So big, baby.” Kara preens, tilting her hips into Lena’s touch, to encourage the exploration. “So thick.” Lena knows exactly what she’s doing.
Kara’s a big fan of praise, and Lena’s more than happy to heap it onto her in spades. Before her… gift Kara preferred realistic looking straps, and Lena’s always made a point to linger on them with her hands and mouth, making sure that Kara knows just how hot she finds her.
From the way Kara drags her back to bed this time, however, Lena gets the impression they’re not going to indulge in foreplay. She can’t fault Kara, really; she’s aching to feel her inside too.
“How do you want me?” She asks, breathless, lips parting for Kara’s tongue. “Anything you want, Kara.”
“On all fours? Please?” Quiet desperation creeps in Kara’s voice. She’s been fisting herself all the way to the bed, and she’s leaking pre-cum from the cock’s built-in lube reservoir. Lena can tell she won’t last long once she’s sheathed inside her; already her abs are flexing, and her brows when she breaks away from their kiss are knitted in concentration.
She’s holding back by the skin of her teeth, her system in full-sensory overload. It’ll lessen in time, but the first few days she’s going to be a bundle of nerves. Possibly gonna spend a lot of time hard too, if she chooses to make wearing the prosthetic a regular thing.
“Yes, baby.” Kneeling on the bed, Lena drops down on her elbows, face smushed into the nearest pillow and ass up in the air. There’s a soft gasp, and then Kara is on her in a blur, draped over her back and pinning her in place by the scruff of her neck. A hand, calloused by hours spent training at the DEO, trails down her bowed spine, and as she’s firmly pushed into the mattress, the last of the butterflies that have been flip-flopping inside her stomach since she gave Kara her gift disappear. Kara isn’t offended. She likes it. She—
Kara’s fingers scissor through the engorged, reddened tissue of her labia, feathering her opening, and a fog thicker than the steam that had filled the bathroom descends over Lena’s thoughts. She can’t think. Only feels the blunt, silken head of Kara’s cock catch against her entrance. She jerks back, whimpering when the stretch sends heat blazing up her spine.
Arousal trickles down her inner thigh, and coupled with what’s dribbling from Kara’s tip, there’s enough wetness between them that the first lunge has Kara sink several inches.
“Fuck!” Shock zips through them both, from their newfound connection. Sparks flying from a fuse. Kara’s so taken aback by what she’s feeling she pitches to the side — almost capsizes — and slips out. “Shit!” It’s so strange to hear her swear. Hot, as it means she’s losing control. Not so far that she’ll risk hurting Lena, but enough to make her feel like putty in her hands.
“‘s alright.” Lena wiggles her butt enticingly. “Take your time, darling.”
“But I don’t want to take my time,” Kara whines, nipping at her earlobe while she hurries to line up for another try. “I want you now .”
With a burst of controlled ferocity, she rocks her hips forward, entering Lena in one fluid stroke.
After, she ruts into her mindlessly, pace increasing with each thrust. Every time her pelvis smacks into the curve of Lena’s ass, they’re both thrown a little closer to the edge. Wound tighter around each other.
It’s only a few more frantic, breathless moments before Kara buries into her as deep as she can go. Lena’s thoroughly stretched, molded perfectly around her and Kara’s cock gives a heavy, victorious throb. Lena’s entire body, from the crown of her head to her curling toes, clenches responsively, her arms giving out as she spirals into bliss. Someone cries out; broken moans, words too garbled to make out
Likely it’s them both.
Then, Kara releases inside her, so copious it overflows.
Their night is perfect rom-com material. Perfectly predictable, but Lena likes it that way. Due to the kind of lives they lead, they don’t get to do regular things often. So, what may be mundane for others is special to them.
The date is as regular as they come. Early dinner in an intimate french restaurant Kara came across one day by accident, followed by a movie.
The drive-in is Kara’s find as well. It’s about an hour drive from National City, but neither of them cares. It’s been a tough few weeks and they’re both enjoying the quiet. One another’s silent, steadfast company.
They flee from the last scraps of daylight, headed for a balmy, star-tossed night, and they roll the car’s roof down to let the desert in. The air is dry, smelling of trapped sunlight and baked earth, gritty against their teeth, and in the distance, barely audible over the purr of the engine, a coyote howls its greetings at the moon.
The drive-in is a blend of old and new. They were able to register their license plate and buy a spot online, but a quick perusal of what the decrepit snack stand has to offer is enough to tell them the corn dogs have been made in the Mesozoic and remained on their tray since then.
Still, Kara gives the literal fossils a yearning look.
“Don’t you dare.” Lena would like to savor Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday , and possibly make out with Kara in the back seat of their car. Holding her hair out of the way while she pukes doesn’t fall under her idea of romantic. Normally, nothing human-made can make Kara sick, but the corn dogs, layered as they are by a film of unappetizing grease, could be the exception. Lena isn’t eager to find out. “If you’re good, we can stop at In-N-Out on the way home.”
“If I’m good , uh?” Kara comments as they hasten back to the car. The lights around the drive-in have dimmed, signaling the movie is about to start and they navigate the sea of parked cars by cell phone light alone. Under their feet, the asphalt is sticky with spilled soda, and the air is sickly sweet with the smell of caramel popcorn. Coming here on a Saturday means the only free spot they could find is way in the back. Lena wonders why that is; a lot of people come to drive-ins for something other than the movies.
“And how are you gonna define that?” She is climbing back into the car when Kara steps up behind her, so close that Lena feels her bulge skim along the curve of her ass. She’s so surprised she nearly tilts into the seat face-first.
Kara has been using the prosthetic regularly when they are home alone, but she never packs around their friends or on a mission. Lena hasn't asked why, just supposing she’s not ready. In Alex’s case, she understands the reticence. Kara’s sister is strangely adverse to change when it comes to Kara.
But tonight Kara is wearing it.
And, just like that, Lena’s panties are drenched.
“I guess you’ll have to figure it out.” She manages, landing on the wrong side of shaky. Kara simply hums and follows after her on the backseat, almost predatory in her grace. Her eyes sparkle with trapped starlight, burning a cool blue, and Lena's throat goes dry. Anticipation tightens her belly.
For a while, things go as one would expect. They do watch the movie, snuggled under the blanket Kara packed in the trunk, but the promise of what could happen hangs above their heads like rain about to fall.
"I could do some of the things I've always wanted to." Audrey Hepburn is saying on the big screen when, beneath the blanket, Kara takes her hand and guides it to the bulge tenting the front of her pants.
"Like what?" Gregory Peck asks, and Lena feels as though he's asking her specifically.
"Oh, you can't imagine." Her lips move in time with Audrey's. "I-I'd do just whatever I liked all day long." Kara’s eyes widen with understanding.
"Are you sure?" Before Lena can tug the zipper down and reach inside her pants, Kara stops her. "We're parked right at the back. We could just leave. Park a little off the road, in the middle of the desert.” Her voice drops to a dark whisper. “I could have you there, bent over the hood.”
Lena considers it. Goes as far as to imagine it. Kara panting into her neck, Lena’s skirt bunched around her waist, her panties tangled at her ankles. Torn to shreds, if Kara grows impatient in her fervor. Kara’s cock buried deep inside her folds. Kara thrusting, grunting with the effort. Pushing Lena down onto the cooling hood of the car as she ruts. It’s tempting, but if Lena can’t do this thing here and now in a darkened drive-in — slide down between Kara and the front seat to take her in her mouth — there’s no hope she’ll ever get to do it in other, more public places.
“I’m sure.” She goes for the zipper again, and this time, Kara lets her. “As long as you can keep quiet.”
As soon as the words tumble from her mouth she knows Kara’s going to make her pay for that remark. Honestly, she can’t wait.
“Show me, then.” Having ascertained her consent, Kara grabs her by the back of her neck, half-helping, half-forcing her down. “Show me just how sure you are.”
As far as first time sex in public goes, Lena thinks the drive-in is a good compromise. They’ve been skirting this moment for some time now, and even though they’ve not been walked in again, they’ve come close a few times.
The broom closets around the DEO have seen some things.
(mainly it’s Kara fingering her to work off tension in between missions, which is easy to come back from in a hurry but still)
“Fuck.” When Kara springs free of her boxers, already fully hard, Lena can’t help the soft exclamation. She’s still in the adjustment period, suffering erections that she can’t yet fully control, but while working through a second horny teenager phase is tiring, neither of them minds.
And, as her eyes roll up to meet Kara’s focused stare, Lena knows tonight’s display of arousal isn’t accidental.
She starts slow, showering the shaft’s underside with devoted attention, the way Kara likes. The synthetic skin is warm to the touch, and Lena noses carefully at the base, mouth sealing around it at a slant for a sloppy kiss. Above her, Kara shudders, one hand digging into the leather of the seat, while the other winds into her hair. When Lena lets her feel the brief, sharp caress of her teeth, Kara yanks a bit, and her scalp sears with heat.
She has to pause, then, and bury a moan against her lover’s inner thigh.
“Thought I was the one who would have to keep quiet.” Kara’s tone is gravel, pebbling Lena’s skin. “Here, baby. Let me help you.”
She’s viciously tugged up and onto Kara’s cock, the tip pressing, pushing at her lips until Lena gives in and opens wide.
“Perfect.” Kara sighs, working her way into Lena’s throat. “You can moan all you want now. Nobody will hear, I promise.” But what if they do? What if the usher whose steps she can hear crunch somewhere to their left comes by, and shines his flashlights in the car to discover Lena giving oral? He’d kick them out.
Or maybe, he’ll just stare, enjoying a different kind of show.
God, she’s so soaked Kara must be able to smell it, superpowers or not.
Her next moan, a gurgle really, is muffled thanks to Kara’s girth. She’s jogging her hips, and pushing Lena’s head down fully each time she thrusts up, so that the tip of her cock brushes the back of Lena’s throat almost continuously. Thankfully, Lena’s had plenty of practice, and even though Kara’s being rougher than usual — perhaps Lena’s not the only one turned on by the idea of public sex — she knows that she can take it. She wants to.
Wants to be left with a sore throat for days.
Whenever Kara allows her to pull back, the tight-fisted grip she has on her hair slackening slightly, Lena strokes her tongue up and down the shaft. Teases and laves the slit at the tip, pre-cum and her own spit leaving a glistening sheen on Kara’s skin.
“So good, baby.” Kara encourages, nails scratching at Lena’s scalp. “Gonna swallow it all when I come. I bet.”
“Yeah.” Not caring that it’ll smear her makeup to hell, Lena rubs her cheek along her quivering length, relishing the sensual stickiness of her own saliva. It’s physical and messy, the red marks her lipstick has left behind turned an almost bruised purple by the pulsing light of the stars.
Kara makes a low, satisfied noise in the back of her throat, and Lena’s short reprieve is at an end.
The pace Kara sets next is brutal, more suited to her cunt than to her mouth. Tears spring unbidden to Lena’s eyes, and the world is lost to her. Reduced to writhing shadows and flares of light whenever Kara’s girth is forced so deep into her throat it cuts her airflow.
There’s no gag reflex to speak of, Lena having trained for this specific moment. She loves to use her mouth on Kara, and has spent many a weekend on her knees, kissing and sucking and swallowing until Kara pushes her off her deflated shaft with a laugh and a spent whine.
And, whenever Kara is busy saving the world from itself, Lena pulls out one of her own toys and teaches herself how to hold her breath when her throat is being split open by the silicone.
Okay, so maybe she’s somewhat orally fixated too, but Kara definitely appreciates it.
“Rao, Lena. I’m so—- I’m— oh, shit .” Losing her rhythm, Kara crumbles on the backseat, the back of Lena’s throat flooded by wave after wave of her release.
True to her promise, Lena swallows it all, but it’s hard to keep up. It feels as though Kara’s body has gone into overdrive, and the nanobots contained in the prosthetic are emptying the entire reservoir into Lena’s willing mouth as a form of empathetic reaction.
She’s still tinkering with the formula for Kara’s cum, so right now the reservoir Kara has to top up every few weeks holds regular, water based lube. It’s pretty neutral as far as taste goes, and harmless to swallow, but the texture is too watery. Sometimes it goes down the wrong way, especially when Kara’s buried in her so deep.
Somehow, Lena sucks her through the aftershocks without devolving into a cough, only stopping when she’s milked Kara for all she has to give, her cock falling flaccid out of her mouth. Lena gathers every droplet, spending a few minutes lapping up and down Kara’s shaft to clean her up. As she does, her thoughts shift partly back to the lab. If she changes the formula just so it would...
When she shakes out of her own reverie and finally looks up, Kara is panting as hard as if she’s run a marathon. Her hair has fallen forward, a golden curtain that partly obscures her features, but there’s no hiding the stricken, blissed-out expression painted on her face. Her eyes are vacant, and some semblance of coherent thought returns only after Lena’s squeezed her knee a couple of times.
“Amazing.” Not bothering to put herself back in her boxers just yet, Kara helps her to the seat, solicitous hands rubbing at her thighs. Lena’s muscles are screaming from the time spent in the unnatural position, and she nuzzles into Kara, showing all of her appreciation for the impromptu massage. “You’re amazing.” Kara’s nose trails along her jaw.
“So are you.” They share a soft, almost chaste kiss, then Kara uses the blanket as cover to straighten out her clothes.
Just in time too. On the big screen the credits are rolling, and one by one, the lights around the parking lot wink on.
Needless to say, it’s not food they stop for on the way home.