The Memoirs

His journey had taken him to so many places. He's risen and fallen, he'd overjoyed and he'd cried. He had lived his life as simple as possible and had been enigmatic for it. Puzzling was in his nature... goodness in his soul. Still waters ran deep and with him, they were deeper still. He was a well of thought and emotion, of action and still awareness. And he covered it, with a thick blanket of innocence, a blanket of steel and granite--a blanket that kept him protected. Few people were tugged underneath that blanket to see the real person he was underneath. Few people ever got to really know him.

 

In fact, in Clarks short life, few people had cast enough light on his life to be called his people. Lex was, closer to his heart than anyone. His parents, simple people who worked, sewed the land, and worked with their hands. Honest people, good and salt of the earth, and to them he owed his life.

 

And one more person. One person who knew, just as he himself did, how deep the bonds of friendship went, and how unbreakable those bonds were. They could be stretched and marred, but at the core of it, and the deep down root of it... Pete was Clark's brother. And as he listened to him, only a few miles away, talking to himself... getting himself ready for what he was about to do, Clark rocked in the swing and gave him his hope.

 

Because at the end, when there was no more money or love or family, no more friends or lovers or food...no more home, no more children, no more clothes on your back...

 

There was hope.

 

Pete was trembling. Nonstop. He was shaking as he stood there, in the grand foyer of the Luthor home. It was an impressive house, all sweeping ceilings and rich fabrics. It was simple in its beauty but strong, just as the Luthors were. Strong, and sweeping, and classical. And right now, Pete would have given his liver had he known he was going to go see Lex instead of Dick.

 

Sam. His best friend. But this felt right, this was right. At this moment, this instant, he had to see his friend. The person he cared for as deeply as he cared for anyone.

 

And in his heart, he almost felt Clark, urging him on. And he reminded himself to thank his friend, even if Clark didn’t understand, for being here for him.

 

And Shayla. Shayla. The girl of his dreams. He squeezed her fingers tightly, gazing down at her as his throat worked.

 

Shayla squeezed his fingers back, looking up at him.  "Pete... you don't have to do this, you know.  I know you want to and need to... but if this is too rough, then you don't have to do this."  Her other hand rubbed his shoulder as she leaned her head against it.  She was so proud of Pete, so proud of his strength and everything else that made him the man she just adored.  "Either way... I'll be here until you tell me to get lost."

 

"I need to talk to him alone." He murmured, and stroked her hair gently, rubbing the ends with his fingertips. "Shayla, you're my goddess. Thank you, so much. I... you’re my strength. Knowing you're here… it helps."

 

"That's what I'm here for.  To help."  She squeezed his hand again.  "I'll camp out in the hallway if you need me."

 

"Thank you." He whispered, and gently let go of her palm. His sweat was ice cold, and despite the fear that was warring in his heart, the shame, he straightened his back and walked down the hall, following the instructions he'd marked into his brain like pen and ink.

 

"You're welcome."  She watched him walking, back achingly straight, and dropped her chin into her hand.  Her heart ached for her baby, but he had to do this alone.  Didn't mean she couldn't be close.

 

Dick was busy shooting a rack of balls into their pockets.  Easy, analytical shots as he calculated angles and incidences and rebounds, and each ball sunk easily into its pocket with a swoosh-thump. 

 

Robin should never be allowed into a pool parlor, Dick thought, and paused to take a pull off the Corona sitting on the corner of the table.  Another case was sitting in an ice chest on one of the other tables, and a second chalked stick leaned against the wall.

 

He was beautiful. It was all Pete could think, could understand, as the memory of it came whooshing back into his brain. Sam...Dick, he was beautiful. He always was, always would be, and there was nothing he could think of for a moment as his mind blanked like glass and he watched him play.

 

Inside of him, inside of that chest was a beating heart, a beautiful one, one that Pete had adored with every fiber of his being. Not just for being his lover, and the first person to show him what making love could be. But for the person who was inside of him, the person who he cared so very deeply for.

 

So he just watched, quiet...waiting, and swallowed down his heart.

 

Dick knew.  He couldn't have missed the footsteps coming down the hall, couldn't have missed the prickly feeling on the back of his neck that said somebody's eyes were on him.  It wasn't the comfortable, easy slide that Bruce's eyes were, but an uncomfortable slide that had to belong to Pete. 

 

He couldn't look up, and instead concentrated on lining up his next shot as he tried to think of what to say.  Finally, he ended up inclining his head towards the cooler.  "There's Corona on ice, and I chalked a stick for you."  His voice was gruffly timbre, rough and raw around the edges.

 

At the acknowledgement… and he'd known, hadn’t he? The uneasy shift of his friend had pricked it. So he finally slipped his coat off, hat and scarf set on top, and walked over to the cooler where the beer waited. He easily popped the top of it and took a long, cooling drink... the frothy, foamy, bitter drink sliding like a porcupine down his throat. He drank again, and set the bottle aside, rubbing his damp palms on his hands as he picked up the stick. So close, so very close, and the scent of his aftershave had his own throat going tight and hot and aching.

 

Dick deliberately scratched the cue on his next shot so that Pete would have a chance.  "Your shot, Pete."

 

It wasn’t, wasn’t it? His last shot. He craned his head down, looking for the ball he wanted… found it. He angled the stick, fingers spread and holding it like Sam had taught him, and he let it fly. The ball cracked, rolling across the felt, knocking another ball, and just barely didn’t slide into the pocket.

 

"Gotta watch your angles there."  Dick lined up on the nine ball, and shot it straight into the left corner pocket.  Then he lined up on the ball Pete had missed.  "Top middle pocket," Dick predicted.

 

A crack of cue on ball, and the missed ball sunk into the pocket.

 

"You want to rack up a new set?" Dick asked, taking a hard pull off his beer.

 

"No… we can keep going on this one." He said softly, watching him move, graceful as the breeze, and as easy as water itself. He knew exactly what he wanted his body to do, and Pete had been envious of it once upon a time. Still was.

 

Dick nodded.  "That's cool."  He tossed the empty bottle onto the table beside the cooler, and reached for another bottle before lining up his next shot.  "I was surprised to get your call."  He looked up and smiled.  "Glad to, but surprised."  He sank the next ball.

 

Pete smiled back a little, and gave himself a long moment to speak. He watched him hit the ball, and it rolled easily into the socket as he shifted. "Yeah." He took a drink of his own beer, the corona slipping into his brain cheerfully to do the meringue.

 

Dick lined up his next shot and made it with ease.  "This is awkward," he finally said.

  

"Not awkward." Pete murmured, holding the cue tighter as he walked around the table. "Let me get used to you for a while, okay?"

 

"Okay."  Dick was quiet as he made two more shots, and again, then deliberately bungled the third to let Pete have a shot.

 

He knew he'd done it on purpose, but Pete didn’t mind. Playing a game was an easy way to get close to someone over petty mistakes and the like. So Pete just leaned down, taking aim again, at ball 6. He pulled the cue back and let it hit, and this time the ball fell, and took with it another one. He straightened, not remembering the rules, but figured he had another shot, and started around the table, looking for seven.

 

Dick stepped back out of the way as Pete walked around the table, and hoisted himself up on the table beside the cooler as he watched.  "Remember, you can use the table bumpers to bounce the balls off of, but they trade off the force you hit it with when they bounce.  Line up your clear shot first, always if you can, and if you can't, find your best angle to bounce off of."

 

"I know." Pete said quietly, and finding ball 7, studied it. It was half curled around another one, and he was going to have to bounce off a wall. So he figured his best choice, angled the cue behind him, and hit it.

 

Didn’t even go near the hole.

 

He stepped back, reaching for the beer again, and swallowed some of it...finished it off, and set it back down again.

 

Dick laughed softly.  "You suck at trig, I bet."  Dick held out his hand, slightly tipsy.  "Gimmie your stick, Pete."  He laid his own against the table, directly over the ball.  He took Pete's, and laid it at an angle.  "Okay.  See, this is where your angles come in at.  Depending on how you aim your stick, the angle changes.  As the angle changes, the stick moves."  Dick manipulated the sticks until Pete's was pointing at the hole.  He lined up the shot, bounced it off the wall, and straight into the hole.  "See?  Not hard."  He tossed Pete's stick back to him.  "Now you try."

 

"You hurt me." He answered softly. He caught the stick easily... but instead of aiming at the ball, the bottom of it touched the ground at his feet, and he held it up and in front of him.

 

"I know."  Dick put his stick back against the rack, and sat back on the edge of the table, drinking from his Corona bottle.  "If it helps, I didn't mean for it to happen.  I didn't think Bruce would find me; didn't ever think I'd find myself in this kind of situation.  I'd like to think it's not who I am."

 

"It hurts still." He said quietly, and angled the shot like Dick had told him to, against the ball that had been next to the seven. It didn’t go in, but he went around the table, just practicing and playing around now. "I know it hurts you. Maybe I shouldn’t be here."

 

"No... you should be.  I'm glad you are."  Dick watched as Pete moved and practiced.  "I had hoped... we'd still be able to be friends.  Like... like Bruce and Lex are."

 

"I wanted to." And his heart jacktripped like a fluttering bird. "I got...we went, the four of us, to Metropolis so the girls could shop, and the whole time I was thinking about what felt wrong and what was missing and I realized it, realized it as soon as we got back in the truck," He was babbling, words stumbling to get out, and he began to tremble. "I knew it was you, because you weren’t there and I missed you so much and I know, I know you...but I want, I..."

 

"Sssh... it's okay.  Slow down, b--Pete.  I'm not going anywhere; take all the time you need to say what you need to say."  He almost slid down from his perch and hugged Pete but he didn't--he couldn't.

 

"I want you not to hate me and be my friend and I don’t know how to make it better because its all ruined now, and I miss you because you're my friend, and you can't even call me baby anymore because I screwed it up so bad and I don’t fucking know what to do and I..." He stopped speaking, closing his eyes and his throat as he reigned himself in. He didn’t want to fall apart, not in front of Dick, and he'd be damned if he'd do it now.

 

"You didn't screw anything up, Pete."  At that, he did slide off the table.  "You didn't screw up at all.  If anybody screwed up here, it was me.  I shouldn't... I shouldn't have gotten involved with you, I shouldn't have let that pink-haired twit talk me into saying I love you, even though I did, because that changed everything."  He ran his hand through short-cropped black hair.  "You--I can't call you baby anymore, because you're not my baby."  A bit of bitter bile rose in the back of his throat, though he knew he had no right to feel bitter or angry.  "You're--you are Shayla's baby now."

 

 "I'll always be your baby." Pete answered softly. "You showed me how to make love… you showed me what being best friends with the person you love is. You showed me everything I am, how to be a good man. You're everything to me, Dick." His heart jacktripped heavily. "Shayla..." He swallowed and looked down. "I don’t know what Shayla is to me. I know that I’m in love with her, and you must really take those words with a grain of salt coming from me. But I know... I know in my heart, that she’s the woman who's going to have my kids, and who's going to let me give her a house and a picket fence and dogs. She's... she's it." And with every word, Pete felt, in his heart, that it was true. "I feel it. I feel it inside of me. But Dick.. I'll always love you. You're..." He shook his head. "You're my best friend. You’re more then that...you're like Clark is to me. You're my brother. ....Brothers with a-a past, but you know."

 

Dick shook his head.  "No.  Pete... listen to me.  You love more, you love deeper, than anyone else I've ever known.  I don't take anything with a grain of salt coming from you--I haven't known you as long as some of your other friends, but I know that you don't say what you don't mean."  He swallowed hard, taking a long pull of beer to hide it.  "Your future is with her, Pete.  I was... okay, I was surprised and jealous when I heard about you and her from Clark, but I'm over it.  You... you are always going to be my friend.  You're always going to have a place inside me.  If you want me as your brother... then you got me."  He held out his hand.

 

 Pete took it, and with it pulled Dick into a fierce embrace. Hard, tight, hugging him as hard as he could, and he buried his face in his neck as he said goodbye to him. Finally. He said goodbye to his lover, let Sam rest in peace, and this man who was standing here....Pete would be friends with him until the day he died.

 

And the tears choked him, as he looked up over his shoulder to keep himself composed even as he tightened his arms, and murmured gruffly, "Bruce...is the luckiest man on earth."

 

Dick hugged Pete, tight as he could, arms bulging with the tension of it.  He didn't let go; wouldn't let go. 

 

Dick let his lover Pete go, in that moment.  And in his arms, he held his friend Pete.  "No... I think that'd be Shay."

 

"Don’t ever stop being my friend, okay?" Never. He could never let this man go, never let this person stop being his friend. He'd love him for the rest of his life, and then some. He was worth loving. And Pete tucked the memory of Sam deep in his heart, in a place where he treasured only a few things. His dog, Pepper, who'd died just a year ago. His Gramma Jean, who'd passed a few years ago, and he swore he could still smell her perfume at night. And now... now, Sam. The grief of losing him would remain with him for a long time, but now... he could heal, and he could move on, knowing that the man holding him would be there for him. No matter what.

 

"I won't, Pete.  I won't ever stop being your friend."  He tucked Pete's head under his chin, holding him tight.  "I won't let you go."

 

"Even when you go back to Gotham, and go back to your life?" Pete asked softly, closing his eyes as he rocked softly in his arms, pushing the lump in his throat down.

 

"Even when I go back to Gotham."  He looked up at Pete.  "You've got my apartment now, by the way.  Signed the lease over to you, and it's still got a year and a half left on it.  There's a computer there, all the shit you need.  Phone too, you can call me, I will email you.  Bruce and I will be back here, too, you know.  There's a lot of shit going on with LuthorCorp and we'll be jetting back and forth here.  I'll even leave you the Camaro if you want it."

 

"The..." Shock? Small word. "Dick… I... why? Why are you.." He swallowed, shifting and shaking his head. "What?"

 

"Why am I what?" he asked softly.

 

"Why are you doing that? Why are you being so nice to me, after I treated you like such shit?"

 

"Pete... you didn't treat me like shit, all right?  Get that through your pretty thick skull.  I'm the one who was crappy to you."  He gripped Pete's biceps and made him look up.  "I was the one who treated you like shit.  I'm doing this because I want you to be happy."

 

"Yeah, I did. I made you cry." Pete murmured, reaching up and sweeping a trail of wet from Dick's cheek softly, rubbing it off his skin even as he grabbed him. "Man, you're Dick fucking Grayson, you don’t cry. Can you imagine what the chicks would say if they saw you?"

 

Not that he was in a better state, but he grinned crookedly at him regardless. "You’re with the person you love. I can finally get that...I get it, a hundred percent. I’m cool, you know? I'll be alright, now... now that I know we're okay. I wanted us to be okay, and I am happy. Very happy. Thank you, Dick."

 

Dick shook his head.  "I cry, Pete.  Just like Bruce, just like you, just like anyone else," he said quietly.  "I'm not superhuman, I'm just... Dick."  He listened quietly to Pete as he looked up.  "I'm glad you're happy.  That's all I want, you know."

 

"Are we okay?" He asked it softly, and with the soft question every year of his age became apparent. He was young, and he was scared, and he didn’t want something bad to hurt them anymore

 

"We're okay," Dick said, smiling.  "We're always gonna be okay, Petey."

 

"Yeah?" He let go, finally, but it was okay and he smiled right back, crookedly and softly. "Yeah?"

 

"Yeah."  He smiled again.  "So, yes or no to the Camaro?"

 

Pete grinned softly, shaking his head. "Naw, man. You know I’ve got my sweet little ride. Can’t give my baby up." He swallowed and walked over to the pool cues, and Christ, he felt… he felt relieved, overjoyed. There was still nagging fear in his head but right now it was over shadowed by the fact that things... were OKAY. And it just made him smile, like hell.

 

"I'll leave the keys with Lex in case you change your mind, and the little blue heap decides it's time to give up the ghost."  Dick smirked smugly at that.

 

"Its not haunted! It runs just fine! I just changed the oil last week, and I only had to jump start it twice, man." He lifted the pool cues, and then glanced at him shyly. "Can I tell you about Shay?"

 

"Yeah, you can.  I'd love to hear about her." 

 

"She's a nuisance. She's insistent. She can be annoying sometimes. And she's got this little lip curling grin that just drives me wild in love with her." He set the cues on the rack, and started gathering the balls. "She's cute, man, she's so outrageously cute. And she’s shy about her body, and its such a pretty thing. She's got this heart, man, this huge heart that I don’t even think she knows is there, and she's just... she's so great with kids, and she's giving and gentle. Being a twit hides all of that deep down, cause she’s insecure. She doesn’t know how beautiful she is."

 

Dick snorted.  "Not to put down your taste in women, but... we're talking about Shayla, right?  Pink hair, metal in her face, earrings everywhere God never intended earrings to be and fake tattoos everywhere?"

 

"She took um out, man." He beamed. Just. Beamed. "I told her she'd be beautiful without all that shit, and the next time I saw her...it was all gone. Blond hair, no piercings and no tats n' shit. Just her."

 

"Haven't really seen her since; just caught glimpses of the back side of her.  She... let's be nice and say that she doesn't like me very much."  But he smiled.  "Not surprising; you could charm a snake out of it's skin, Petey."

 

"Got the skills, man." He opened the billiard door and peaked out, calling, "Shay? Shayla, you down here?"

 

Little blond head peeked immediately around the corner of the upper staircase.  "Right here," she chirped, smiling at him.  "You okay?"

 

He just grinned at her, and a weight that had been heavy in his face was gone. "Yeah. C'mere."

 

She almost balked.  "You finally going to let me nail him in the nuts?" she asked hopefully, bending down and tying her shoes before hopping over the banister and landing in front of him.

 

He snickered, shaking his head softly and he took her hand, pulling her into the room. His fingers squeezed around hers, tightly, and he presented her to Dick... asked for acceptance from this man, who's acceptance meant more to him then the world. "Shay... my friend, Dick."

 

"Should I be wearing a cup, Shay?"  Dick watched her warily.

 

"Only if Pete lets go of me," she answered back, just as sweetly.

 

Dick crossed his arms over his chest as he took her in.  Little tiny thing, standing against Pete, and she made him look gargantuan.  White skin and blond hair, green eyes that sparked at him.  "Not bad, Shay," he said, cocking an eyebrow.  "You clean up real nice."

 

"And you're not as stupid as I thought you were," she said suddenly, and straightened up.  "If you hurt him again, ain't no promise gonna keep my little foot outta your ass."

 

Dick burst into laughter at the image in his mind; a little rat terrier clinging tightly to the ankle of the mailman, teeth securely fixed in his skin.  "Petey, my man... I don't know whether to offer my congratulations, or my condolences."  But his grin was pure happiness.  "Take my advice and have her spayed.  That'll get rid of the attitude."

 

Pete grinned. Just grinned, broadly, so much so that he thought his face was going to break. Dick liked her. Oh, God. And it just made him chuckle, winking wickedly before smiling down at her. "Naw, man. Its that little attitude that I just dig. Keeps things interesting. Ain’t she cute? Told you she was a babe."

 

"Little attitude?  Like, Old Faithful is a little trickle, right?" 

 

"'xactly." Oh but he snagged her around the waist, and yeah, she made him look big and he needed that. It was a chauvinistic male thing, he guessed, but his ego liked it that she was smaller then he was, and he could all but lift her with a single hand.

 

He liked that, too.

 

"Hello?  Guys?  Still in the room here.  I know you're huge and I know Dick's an ox, but hey... I'm not that little."  She elbowed Pete gently, but settled back into his arms.  "You know, he made me promise not to kick your ass and rip your nuts off.  So, you know, say thank you."

 

Dick smiled and turned his attention back to Pete.  "Thank you for protecting my manhood, Petey."

 

"Had to, man. Bruce'd be pissed as hell." Pete grinned back, then winked down at Shayla. "You are so that little." But he hugged her once, let go, and hugged Dick. Hard. Murmured his thank yous, smiled again, and shifted. "We're gonna go catch some TV, before we gotta get ready for class again tomorrow. Want to come to breakfast with us?"

 

"Am not," Shayla sulked, and she glared at Dick Grayson as he touched her man.

 

Dick could feel eyes boring into his forehead, and he hugged Pete back, murmuring in his ear as well.  "She's still gonna kill me, man."  But he straightened.  "I can't; I promised Bruce I'd take a 8 AM conference call here for him while he's at the press conference in Metropolis."

 

"Oh, its cool. I'll catch you tomorrow afternoon then, kay?" Pete took Shayla's hand again, squeezed tightly. "Man, by the way, what the hells going on? Everyone’s been secretive as shit."

 

"Well... it's about to become common knowledge anyway."  He screwed the lid off another beer for himself, tossed one to Pete, and held one out to Shay.  "Come Monday morning... LuthorCorp and Wayne Enterprises will have merged into one super-conglomerate.  The reason for the merger?  Lionel needs Bruce's protection while they relocate."

 

Holy. Shit. "Holy. Shit." Pete gaped, taking the beer and popping it open, shaking his head a little bit. "Holy shit. What the hell? Where the fuck are they relocating? What the fuck are they gonna screw up now?"

 

Shayla accepted the beer, twisting the lid off and flipping it at Dick.

 

Dick looked down at the little silver disk as it flicked off his shoulder and fell to the tabletop.  "Smallville," he said very quietly.

 

Oh, God. Pete’s eyes widened... and he suddenly had to sit. He slid easily into a chair in front of the little table with the cooler, plopping as his eyes went wide as saucers. He had a brain for politics, and for business, though no one knew about it. And right now it was rapid firing like hell, as his mind tried to catch up with what his brain was doing. "Oh, God."

 

Shayla set her beer down and caught his, and set it on the table beside the chair as her hands went to his shoulders and rubbed.  "Pete?  C'mon, baby... tell us what you're thinking."

 

"It... to Smallville? Why is Luthor moving everything to Smallville? Does he understand how much upheaval there'll be, how much shit and planning and money he's going to lose? Not that I give a shit, but that money comes back into our community. Fuck, what the hell is his deal?"

 

Dick's eyebrows raised; apparently Pete was more in the know than anyone realized, and he quietly wondered about it. "Yeah, to Smallville.  He's losing money already; the plant rebuilding especially, because he's paying out salary with no income coming in.  But the move itself is a good one.  The loss is short-term; five to ten years.  The long term?  The gross income from the rent differentials alone gets into seven figures in the first five years."

 

"That’s insane." Pete said softly, though he sat back and closed his eyes. "Christ, Metropolis is going to lose so much. Where the hell does he plan on housing all his employees? There’s, what, a good 15,0000 employees working for him? Where does he expect 15,000 families to live? Commuting three hours to and from Metropolis is out of the question."

 

"He's already bought property in Old Smallville," Dick explained.  "Plans are underway to convert the old houses to duplexes, there's several abandoned warehouses in the district that are being converted to studio apartments and lofts, and he's buying land as we speak for new developments like Pleasant Meadows."

 

Pete rubbed his face. His mother had said OKAY to this?! "Christ. Do you understand what a complete economic change this is going to be? Inflation is going to go through the roof, before dropping. People are going to lose a lot of money, get it back, lose it, get it back. Its going to fluctuate for at least a year, more. The need for work is going to have hundreds of people… construction, architects, private business owners, whatever, come live here, or commute from Richardsonville. Holy shit. Okay. I’m.." He was giving himself a headache.

 

Shayla's eyes were wide.  Just... she was totally and completely lost.  But that was okay, because she was just busting with pride at Pete's completely obvious intelligence.

 

"We understand.  We're hoping to keep the inflation problem down as much as possible by keeping the money flowing in and out as steadily as possible.  The only problem with that is going to be the initial influx into the economy before it evens out."

 

"Has Luthor got any ideas on it?" Pete asked his friend, taking a long drink from his beer.

 

"Lex or Lionel?  The answer is yes, to both."

 

"Both. I lump them in a single group." A moment. "Can you give me some?"

 

"Yeah, I can.  And maybe you can give me some practical feedback that I can pass on to Bruce."  Dick situated himself, beer in hand.  "Lex's idea is to keep the construction crews in Smallville without switching contractors.  That'd mean as soon as the plant's finished, the renovations on the new properties begin.  That will stop at least some of the initial influx, because the local economy's already gotten a chance to become acclimatized to them and their expenditures."

 

"Bullshit. You use the same contractor, it'll take them, give or take, 6 months to put up a hundred houses. They've got to house 15,000 families, couples, and single people. They need to think about hiring local people...like the twenty five hundred people without a job since the plant fell. Local folks, high school kids looking for an after class job. You get some classes set up for anyone who doesn’t know what they’re doing, and bam. You’ve suddenly gotten yourself about, roughly, three thousand new workers. Hire local, you'll get a good group of people."

 

"We've thought about doing that, but the expense of setting up those classes, the expense of hiring people to teach them, and bringing yet more money into Smallville is going to completely upset the economic balance, and there's going to suddenly be a lot of money floating around, and there's your inflation problem."

 

"He won’t get enough housing built for the people to come work for him. People know their isn’t going to be housing, they'll quit."

 

"They've still got fifteen or twenty homes available in Pleasant Meadows.  The LuthorCorp contractors will commute because that's their job, and that's what they're paid to do.  if we hire the local contractors to start the renovations to the existing homes on the old boardwalk, there'll be adequate housing, but hiring the locals inflates the economy again by putting a lot more money in circulation, because LuthorCorp and Wayne Enterprises don't hire cheap."

 

Pete rubbed his hair forward a few times... then sighed, heavily. "In about eight weeks, the seniors and juniors at the high school do a community project. Every year, 'nstead of doing prom shit, we do community service. The teachers spring for the spring formal. Anyway, its called Community Week, and we do all kinds of shit. Last year, the seniors put up that huge kids park on the edge of town. Their community project this year can be building a few houses. There’s about four hundred and fifty of us all together. That'll give you at least 15 houses, in a weeks worth of time. And most of us are farm kids--we've been doing this shit all our lives."

 

"There's also that street down on Old Smallville... buncha really old houses. Most of um are empty. Luthor could buy them, and make dorms of them, for single people or couples. And there’s a lot of um, coming out of Metropolis."

 

 

Dick went through the desk in the corner of the room until he came up with a yellow steno pad and a monogrammed silver pen.  He started scribbling down notes.  "yeah, those houses on the boardwalk?  Those are the houses you're talking about.  He already owns them, and that's what's getting turned into the duplexes.  They're all two stories; each story will be a small apartment."  He was still scribbling furiously, making notes and finally he looked up at Pete.  "If I helped you, would you be willing to write up an informal proposal about this community project thing and present it to Bruce?"

 

"Sure." He shrugged absently. "It's four hundred free workers. Well, free that it costs you nothing, and for us its our A in English. Don’t pass English, you don’t graduate, so its mandatory. Plus, ya know, fun as hell. No class for a week, man? Can't beat that." He shrugged again. "There's another three streets, like that, he might not know about. Bunch of really huge old houses, over on Crawford, behind the Greek House buildings." A sudden blink. "Those are the buildings he bought, huh?"

 

"Yeah, everything from the top of the boardwalk to the hill... can't think of the name of it offhand though." 

 

"Well, tell him about the houses on Crawford. It’s three streets, just like that."

 

More scribbling.  "Okay, here's a question for you.  Split the seniors into two teams; half building and half renovating under the supervision of our contracting teams, or keep them as one unit on one project or the other?"

 

Shayla leaned forward and kissed his ear.  "Pete... I just gotta say... don't think I've ever loved you as much as I do this instant."  She came around and settled quietly into his lap.

 

"A minute ago, I couldn’t believe my mom said yes to this. Now I know why." A shake of his head. "This is a damn trip, man. Shiit." He shifted in his seat, drinking more of his beer as he offered Shayla his lap, and squeezed her leg gently as he thought. Her words made his belly gooey, and he squeezed his appreciation around her arm, thinking again. "Half and half. We're all farm kids, like I said. We could prolly do that shit faster and easier then your contracting bozo's."

 

Shayla smiled and kissed his cheek again.  "You're so smart, Pete."

 

Dick nodded.  He kept scribbling notes, occasionally tapping his teeth with the back of his pen as he stopped to think of something.  "Now, who do we have to pitch this to at your school, and would you be willing to work with Lex and probably Clark on this?"

 

"Lex, no. Clark, yes." And he thought a moment. "Reynolds. You'll have to pose it to the principle. Bad ass black guy, but he likes me, so I could probably warm him up to it before you guys go into the lions pit." He grinned up at Shayla, squeezing her waist gently and kissing her jaw.

 

Dick looked at Pete over the notepad.  "You'll have to work with Lex, Pete.  There's not much of a way around it.  Lex is the one with the connections at the school; Ms. Glover and Mr. Reynolds.  I gather Reynolds doesn't care much for Lex, but Ms. Glover, who is the assistant now, seems to think highly of him."

 

Pete’s face darkened. Considerably. He. Hated. Lex. With every fiber of his being, he hated him. Sure, the guy had helped during the snow storm. BIG DEAL. He was still a mother fucking bastard, and Pete didn’t mind muttering it out loud… before wincing. "Sorry, Shay."

 

"s'okay.  I know you don't like AJ.  But I do, and I'll help you deal with AJ."

 

Pete suddenly looked at her... and in his eyes, in his heart and belly, was soft hunger for her. He'd had a taste while they were in the dressing room...but he wanted his mouth between her thighs. It was sharp as a tack and instant… need, the glory of it, and he grinned privately, sharkily at her, before looking back to Dick. "Alright. I'll work with him. I won’t like it, but I'll do it. This is really going to help, isn’t it?"

 

She returned the smile and blushed, burying her hot face in his neck.

 

Dick's brow shot up at the blush and the hidden face, but he didn't say a word.  "Yeah.  It's going to help a lot, if we can pull this off.  It's actually the perfect--or close to it, anyway--solution to getting extra work while not injecting a lot of money in the economy around here.  Not that Smallville doesn't need a little pumping up, but we don't want to go overboard."

 

"Overboard means Smallville Loan getting a hell of a lot of mortgage money and closures, and funny, Lionel Luthor owns it. He wouldn’t be losing jack." But he kept the bitterness out of his voice, because it was an honest fact. He sighed, shaking his head softly and thinking a moment. "You could also talk to Project Quest. They’re an organization that does a lot of charity work around here, including the American Housing Project. You know, where they build free houses for people? They might get in on it, too."

 

"Mmm.  No, now that you've got wrong."  Dick started to rummage around before he realized that he wasn't in Bruce's desk and he didn't have access to the papers.  "Lionel owns Smallville Loan, yeah, but it's run through about three subsidiaries, one of which is... fuck if I can remember the name right now, but it's a dummy corporation that does home refinancing and things like that here in town."

 

"Oh." Okay. Bitter level down a little bit. "Well, regardless."

 

"Look, Pete... Lionel's trying to move his company here.  It wouldn't be a good business decision on his part to start alienating people, would it?  I'm sure that people's homes are safe."

 

"Whatever. Dick, he did a bunch of really bad shit to my family, man, alright? I ain’t never gonna like him, no matter what the hell he does to the community. He fucked us over, dude."

 

Dick closed his notebook and looked at Pete and the small girl that curled in his arms.  "Pete... I'm not going to deny that.  I know that Lionel's done some shady dealing in the past, and he's hurt a lot of people.  But he's trying to do something nice now."

 

"Don’t give a shit. I hold grudges, you know that. I'll give him ideas to make this work, because I don’t want to see the people I love suffer. Other then that, I hate his guts."

 

"That's fair enough."  Dick slid his pen in the spiral top of the notebook.  "How long you stickin' around here before you go home?"

 

Shayla whispered in his ear.  "You don't hold grudges, Pete... you didn't against me when I said those bad things in the car... you gave me a second chance."

 

"Couple of hours." He told his friend... then turned his gaze to Shayla and set his forehead on hers. "You're my everything. I couldn’t hold bad shit against you." He murmured, before flushing a little and glancing up again. "Anything I can do, Dick?"

 

Shayla's little hand cupped the side of Pete's face.  "I love you too, Pete... you don't know how much."  Then she hugged him, letting her cheek rub against his.

 

Dick smiled softly.  "I'll... try not to interrupt you, but once I outline the points of this to Bruce, he may have questions for you to answer in the proposal."

 

"That’s cool. I’ve got a head for business, I can lay out the shit for him." Pete nodded it, shrugging absently. "won't be interrupting. You’re my friend, its called barging in." He grinned, happiness in his eyes as he chuckled, murmuring, "Just don’t turn into Graham, man."

 

"Graham?  Turn into Graham?  Who, may I ask, is Graham, and why would I be turning into him?"

 

"You don’t wanna know." Pete grinned again and laughed, shaking his head and, after dumping his girlfriend off his lap, stood with her and snagged her hand. "I'll come lookin' for you in 'bout an hour, aight?"

 

"Okay.  I'll be upstairs in the room with Bruce; if I get done first, I'll wait for you in the library, okay?"

 

"That’s cool. See you then." And Pete waved, pulling Shayla with him out of the door, and the idiot grin on his face was just priceless.

 

Nor could it be swept off.

 

Shayla wrapped herself around him and squealed softly in his ear.  "Pete Ross!  I didn't understand a goddamned word you said, but I am so fucking proud of you!!!"

 

He couldn’t help it--he cracked up, hauling her up close to him and hugging her hard. "Christ, you're amazing. You smell so good... dammit, I thought I was going to lose my fucking mind there for a minute."

 

"But you didn't!"  She wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her.  "I'm just... bustin' with it!"

 

He grinned at her, lunging her up higher around his waist, and keeping a hand on her ass, walked them up the steps. The place was quiet now, that all the people had gone home and the residents weren’t there, and he had the freedom to haul her up against the wall on the landing and ravish her throat. He ducked his head, sucking kisses and licks from it, scraping his teeth and wide lips across the sexy skin there as he kept right on laughing. "You’re so amazing."

 

"Nah, you're the one who's amazing, Pete," she said breathlessly, her legs tightening around his waist as her hands started pushing inside his shirt to touch his skin.  "You know... we're not... going to make it... to the underwear at this rate," she teased softly.  "I just... want you."

 

"Won’t need the underwear." He grinned into her skin, lifting her up a little higher so he could rub his cock, hard as stone, against her softly, undulating his hips gently even as fire lit his blood to boiling. He snagged her, kissing all over her neck, throat, collar bone and shoulders, and lifted her shirt up enough to get a handful of one breast. He kneaded it hard, coaxing the nipple into his palm as he rubbed and pressed against her.

 

Then he picked her right up, not stopping his movements, and walked further down the hall... before moaning, pressing her against the wall again, and thrusting up against her. He was hard, boiling with need, and frenzy took over his hands and body.

 

She moaned softly in his ear, biting it gently as her nails raked over his chest.  "C'mon... here... hurry, please, come on... fuck... remind me to start wearing dresses."  Her hips wiggled hard against his cock as it pressed against her, and she dragged his mouth up to hers as she kissed him hard.  Her hands moved from his shirt to hers, and she started unbuttoning it, pulling it out of the waistband of her jeans.

 

"Not yet… not yet… not ready yet." He gasped, stroking his fingers up and ripping her shirt off.

 

In half.

 

It came apart in his hands and he didn’t fucking care, her bra following the same fate as he ducked his head and wrapped his mouth around the small, firm breast that he was insane over, sucking it right into his mouth. He rubbed the flat of his tongue roughly against the protruding nipple, begging for more of it, and kept pushing up against her, moving against her as he began to walk again. Here, when her weight was in his arms he pressed against her firmly, and he could rock his hips against her. Feel her.

 

Imagine her, in lacy, crazy, gorgeous things. Oh, and he moaned.

 

Shayla's entire body shuddered with Pete's moan as it twitched through her.  Starting at her nipple and vibrating through the rest of her, she cried out softly as Pete's mouth wrapped around her again. 

 

His hips rocked up and she squirmed lightly, working so that she could rub herself against his thrusting cock.  A squeal as her shirt ripped and she giggled as she whispered breathily in his ear.  "God, that's hot... just ripping it off like that, so hot... so strong, Pete, I love that.  Makes me so hot."

 

That was just about the it of his control. There went the it.

 

He yanked, tugging at her jeans furiously, pulling at them as he shifted her weight to one arm and dove his fingers into her where they stood. He pushed in twin digits, heat and wet and his and he stroked, thrust as his mouth continued to feast. Please, Shay, let me have you a little longer. Come baby, and let me have you a little longer.

 

He kissed her--hard, passionate, his mouth going in at an angle before thrusting his tongue down as far as he could, and thrusting up into her at the same time. His clothed cock thrust into the channel of her hip, pushing against her body as his fingers moved insistently inside of her.

 

Shayla was completely and totally drowning in her lover.  No underwear--it was probably still in Pete's pocket--and she rocked down on his fingers as she sucked his tongue, licking over and around it, moaning softly as she felt his cock pressing into her hip, and she slid her hand down to rub against the hard bulge behind his zipper. 

 

Soft moans poured out of her as she writhed against his hands, begging for harder and faster and deeper in litanies of words she'd only heard on TV before.

 

He stroked, faster, and harder, and deeper as she whispered dirty words in his ear, and drove him to madness. He caressed those bare breasts, rubbing himself as much as he could against her as his mind blanked. He held her close, closer, and walked again, thrusting inside of her as they moved...her bedroom.

 

Oh, thank God.

 

They sort of rolled on her bed… he wasn’t quite aware of how it happened but he found himself over her, the door slamming shut behind him, his mouth against her neck and breasts as he thrust his fingers into her. Fast, hard, begging her so he could taste and lick her for a little while... enjoy her without her hips ramming up against his and begging for entrance. He wanted to give her the gift of what a lover was, and he'd be damned if he'd ruin it by his own need. "So sexy, so beautiful, hot and soft, love you, warm and beautiful, body like a goddess, hard and tight. Look at how hard your nipples are...feel me inside? So deep inside, baby, so deep, touching you...here." And he rubbed his thumb against her clit, rubbing around the tiny bundle of nerves.

 

She shuddered, thrusting up against his hand as she came.  Didn't mean to, couldn't help it, couldn't say anything.  Just soft, mewling cries as she did, hips thudding up and down on the bed, pushing onto his fingers and whimpering softly. 

 

Choking back tears, because Pete calling her beautiful, a goddess... all those things just made her want to cry and kiss him and give him anything in the world he wanted, because he already had her heart.

 

Thick whimpers.  "P--Pete... God, I love you, I feel you."

 

"Love you, love you more, feel me baby, feel me inside." He whispered it, and after cleaning his fingers with a suck of them, he rolled back over her, and he touched her. His fingers, wide and dark, slipped over her shoulders...down her arms, caressing her skin as he found little spots that pleased them both. The indention of her elbow...her wrist. The outer edge of each soft breast, and he explored each spot with his mouth as his hips rose and fell insistently, slowly, easily.

 

A man as ready as he was wouldn’t dawdle, not normally. But right now, he felt compelled… he needed to show her.

 

She shivered, wrapping a leg around his waist and pulling him down against her.  "I feel you, Pete...inside and out, I feel you."  Her hands rubbed his shoulders, sliding under his shirt, feeling hard muscle and taut skin.  "Love when you're so big and strong, love when you carry me around, love when you touch me like I'm so precious to you."

 

"Are, you are, so precious." He murmured as his lips trailed down her belly. He licked each ridge of rib, each muscle, kissing her skin softly as his fingers slid all over her hips, waist, ass and belly. Down, kissing until he lapped at the top of her mouth, gently, reverently. He spread her legs gently, slowly, dipping his tongue between her spread lips and cleaning her soft folds. He sucked and licked, taking it into himself with hot pleasure, lapping all around the little clit... down, into her, tasting the familiar taste now, before looking up...and going lower. He raised her hips with a palm and experimentally licked across her back hole, glancing up a second later.

 

Shayla's eyes locked onto Pete's as he looked at her.  They were open wide, filled with a mixture of shock, surprise, and pleasure.  The wet lick was drying now over her opening, and she felt it twitching in response.  She slipped her hand down to stroke over his face and she nodded.  And whispered.  "Do--do that again.  I--never there, but... think that I like it!"

 

The pleasure was swift and hot, and he smiled at her cry for more as he ducked down. Each palm held her hips gently up, keeping her at an angle as he licked again, spreading her thighs even more and sucking at the little hole. Around it, the puckered edge, and he dipped his tongue in just a little bit, so she could feel the pleasure of those nerve endings around the rim. He bit at it, softly, sucking at her skin like it was his life’s blood. He glanced up over her belly again, making sure she was okay with it. If she wanted to feel his fingers, there. "Okay?" He whispered.

 

"Oh... oh yeah... Okay."  Her thighs were spread wide, legs open and hips canted up as she moved with Pete, letting his tongue swipe over her.  A quick, hard shudder as she felt his tongue thrust into her, and her nails raked lightly over his shoulder and forearm.  "I want to try it."

 

"Won’t hurt you, Shay." He murmured softly, gently setting her hips down and crawling up over her. "I won't hurt you, I promise. Okay? I want you to understand why... why I like it so much, and I want... you're so beautiful." He'd never been harder in his life, not ever, but he wanted this for her. So he kissed her cheeks and rose, unsteadily, and half walked and half lurched into her bathroom.

 

He searched for a long moment, finding condoms, which he grabbed for later, and a bottle of body lotion. Unsmelly, the natural kind, and he snagged it as well. Then a moment... and he took down two small towels from her shelf. One he moistened and set with the things he'd grabbed.

 

The other, he washed his face and mouth out with. No time to brush his teeth, but he didn’t want her disgusted with him. So he scrubbed his chin, cheeks, lips and tongue, rubbed the cloth over his teeth, and dropped it into her hamper. A snag of his things and he was walking back into the bedroom, heart pounding furiously.

 

"I know you won't."  She turned onto her shoulder and watched him moving in her bathroom, and she sat up on the side of her bed and then got up to walk to the bathroom.  He was already halfway across the room when she met him, and she held her hands out to help carry some of the things he had picked up.  "let me help you."

 

He whimpered. Loudly. She… when she stood, and she was naked, and her breasts hung so softly on her chest, her hips swishing and her every step... fuck. He dropped everything he'd had and snagged her up, kissing her harshly. Christ, and he ached to pound into her, anything, but he sated himself with kissing her as hard as he could, and carry her back to bed.

 

She wrapped her legs around his waist and rubbed against him as she returned the kiss hungrily, hands gripping his shoulders as her breasts pressed into his chest, and the wet valley between her legs pressed against his crotch.

 

"Shay, mine, Shay," More whimpering, and he'd be damned to admit it was coming from him. "Shay, I want you, you're mine baby, I want you, please, I… please, I want to make you... I want..." he gently lay her out on the bed, letting her go just a second to reach to the floor and grab his things. The condoms he dropped on her belly, smile suddenly crooked and shy and full of passionate need at the flavored condoms, and the towel went beside his knee. He lotioned his fingers on his right hand, gently spreading her thighs, and as he attached his lips to one hard nipple, he rubbed her tiny opening with his fingertip. "Want you to see, I want you to feel it. Don’t be scared, I won’t hurt you, I swear."

 

"I'm not scared."  She pushed herself up on her elbows and gripped his left hand for a minute.  "I want to feel it, Pete.  I'm not scared, I've just never done it but I trust you, I trust you so much."  She relaxed against him, raising one leg and propping it up against the bed as she crooked her knee, opening herself to him as much as she could.  "Tell me how I can help you."

 

"Just enjoy it. Enjoy what I can make you feel... why I like it so much." He murmured. He rubbed her lower belly, gently, and as she began to relax his first finger began to slide in. Easy and tiny, and he groaned softly as he raised her leg up onto his shoulder, the contrast startling and outrageously sexy. He slipped in, further, and ducked his mouth to suck on her clit. His mouth went easily around it and he began to suck, gently, nibbling all around it.

 

Oh, God.

 

Shayla was almost paralyzed by it.  Finger moving inside her as her body throbbed, her clit wet and aching as Pete nibbled on her, the rest of her dripping wet and slippery against herself.  Tightness in her belly, good heat spreading through her body, and she squeezed once.  Gently.

 

"Muh." Pete moaned around her clit harshly. She pressed around him just like she did when she squeezed him with her little inside muscles, and he groaned as he used the squeeze to slide the rest of his finger inside her. Tight as hell, so tight, and he kept his digit still as he lapped at the wetness that was sliding from her lips like water. He lapped at it, at her, driving his tongue into her as his finger squirmed softly in the back opening.

 

A squeak was the only noise that made it out of her throat.  She wanted to scream the roof off the house, tell him how good it felt, but all that she could vocalize was a high-pitched squeak that sounded like an oily door hinge.  Her tongue wetted her lips, she swallowed hard and tried to moisten her throat as she spoke again.  "P-Pete... so good."  Croaked whisper, and every time his tongue pushed into her, she squeezed his finger tightly, muscles contracting in front and in back.

 

Which had been exactly what he'd wanted. He soothed her belly, caressing her breasts and tweaking her nipples insistently as he thrust his tongue in and out of her...and began to stroke with his finger. Very little thrusts at first, small, before he got a little bit more bold. He stroked out and in, like he would his cock, sliding out slowly before thrusting in quickly. Over, and over.

 

He slipped his tongue from her and replaced it with the thumb of the same hand, and he began to stroke and thrust in and out, from the front and back, as his teeth worried the bundle of nerves that were tightly bound and the root of her pleasure.

 

All the while, tweaking her nipples.

 

Nuts.

 

She was going absolutely nuts.  She moaned, twisting and squirming on his fingers.  Her eyes were shut tightly, flickering open every second to look at the gorgeous man between her legs, whimpering his name in broken, breathless pants as she rocked against him.  "More, please, more more more, harder, more, please, more," she chanted softly. 

 

He slipped his fingers away, poured more lotion, slickened them again before he pressed his middle finger atop the first one and slipped back to her back opening. "Two, gonna be two, handle it baby?"

 

"Y--Yes.  Yeah.  I c'n handle it."  She opened her eyes up, and watched him.  "Wanna see you."

 

He was losing his mind. Losing it. it was gone. She was letting him fuck her with his fingers there, and why was it so goddamned hot? He pushed into her, easily, softly, watching as her rim opened and allowed him to slide in. Much tighter, so tight, but he was slow, and listening to her pants even as his eyes glassed over with pleasure. He was driving his cock into her sheets, over and over, unable to stop as he slowly slipped out, then back in. Out, in, out, in, until his fingers were swallowed within her to the root and he moaned uncontrollably.

 

Back, back to her clit, and he sucked hard at it as he trembled and shook and groaned.

 

Her thighs squeezed tightly around his head, and her back arched as she pushed down on his fingers.  "P--Pete... so... full... hot.  Inside me.  Can you... can you show me... show me everything?"

 

"What?" he blinked, his mind blank as glass as he moved in and out of her, rocked with each of her movements, aching to get her to come, to come so he'd know she liked this, and the mounting fear slid over his consciousness. "Okay? Okay? Want me to stop baby? Will stop, stop, anything for you," He babbled incoherently, licking her clit gently, face buried between her thighs.

 

"No."  She sat up, as best she could, propping herself on one elbow as her other hand brought his face up to look at her.  "Want..."  And she blushed.  "Want to know it all.  How you... you feel.  There."

 

"No, baby," He shook his head at her, fingers still inside, still flexing and it was outrageously sexy to feel her inside and speak, feel each rumble of her quiet words slide over his hand and into him. "Not yet, not for a while. Gotta get you used to it, you could get hurt. Wil-will do this, though, kay? Do this all the time, get you used to it, and t-then..." He lost his train of thought, mumbling softly as his cock screamed. "Got… got any toys baby?"

 

"The--got the vibrator you--you helped me pick out."  She arched her back, stretching her torso so that her arm could reach the nightstand by her bed, and she tugged the top drawer open.  Quick rummage with her fingertips and she brought the plastic shaft down and handed it to him.  "Want... want to do it soon."

 

"Want..." He swallowed, hard, and yeah, were they doing this? He'd never had kinky sex in his life, but he... he felt so liberated and free with this girl laying beneath him, and his smile was shaky and pleased. "Want to feel it inside.? W… when I’m inside y-you? Too?"

 

"Yes.  Yes yes yes," she said, eyes wide.  "Didn't know you could... yes.  Wanna."

 

"Teach you everything. 'm not always like this." He whispered, as if begging her tp understand as he slid a condom on the dildo. It was slender, very slender, not thicker then his fingers pressed together and it slipped inside her as easily as his fingers had. Christ, and he watched himself bury that pink dildo inside of her and he groaned softly, shaking his head as he finally let his weight down onto her. Die. He was going to die, right now, in pleasure and want and a thousand other things and he was going. To fucking. Die. "Good? Feel good baby? Don’t ever want to hurt you, want you to feel it, don’t want you to get scared."

 

Shayla bit down on her lower lip as Pete slid the cool plastic into her ass, and she moaned.  Deeply and gutturally as her body spread open further, legs opening, hips raising and exposing herself.  Dark sound in her throat as she muffled it, and all she could do was nod for a long moment.  His weight pressing down on her brought another guttural moan, and she grunted softly.  "Feels... good.  So good.  This... never knew.  Not scared... trust you."  She pushed herself up on her elbows, naked chest pressing against Pete's as she licked his lips.

 

He went wild. No other option, no other choice. As soon as the pink slid in all the way, and she rose up to flicker that little pink tongue over him, he was through. He lost his mind, grabbing her roughly... not ungently, and pulling her to sit up. Tenderly but quickly, so the dildo wouldn’t hurt her, and he ripped open another package as he held her on her knees before him.

 

The condom went on easily, and he jacked himself off for a few moments, watching her with the blind, furiously needy eyes of a man, and leaned his back against her headboard. He grabbed each petite hand, brought it up over their heads, and as he was leaning down to engulf her breast in his mouth, he was shifting her hips over him, sliding her down atop him. They were sitting up, he more at an angle, because it didn’t give as much freedom to thrusting as he would have liked.

 

And it prevented him from hurting her as he lost his mind with pleasure.

 

A guttural, deep sob of pure male need. She was tight, so tight, so very tight because he was sharing close quarters with the little...vibrator.

 

Which he reached behind her and flicked on.

 

Shayla shuddered as her lover moved her around him, held her hands over her head, wrists pinned together with broad, loving hands, and she felt herself unfurling over him.  Opening slowly, sucking him inside her, felt him rubbing against the hard shaft of the vibrator behind her and she moaned into his sob.  Burying her face in his throat, her noise was lost inside of his, and then she squeaked again, voice stolen by the sudden hard flush of pleasure as the vibrator inside her flipped on.

 

Hard squeak as she rocked against him, rubbing her breasts against his face as her hips rocked, riding both his cock and the plastic in her ass, squeezing both with tight muscles as she licked his cheeks, covering them with wet kisses.

 

He moaned, all over again, violently. She was doing what he'd hoped she would... fucking herself on his cock. It was lovely, so gorgeous, and he watched her with a dry mouth as she rose and fell above him. Her skin was like milk, dewed and shiny, and he rubbed his face into those pale breasts as she thrust. He moved with her, softly, slowly, her muscles clenching around him making his eyes roll back in his head.

 

He let go of her palms, sliding them back down the long length of her willowy arms, over the underneath of her arm, down the sides of her breasts, and back around and down to her ass.

 

Which he slapped, once, his eyes foggy with pleasure dancing in mischief as he watched her. Their sex was always so full of need and want, but here, now, he brought fun to it, enjoyment, and he grinned lustily up at her as he did it again. Not hard enough to hurt but fast and quick enough to sting and make her react to it.

 

His free palm wound around her back, anchoring her close as he leaned in to suck her throat, thrusting and moving, the bed squeaking softly and their skin slapping together with every movement.

 

Her body jerked as she rode him, sliding up and then lowering down into the stinging slap to her ass.  It shocked her, but her eyes flared a bright, glittering green as her hips moved faster, tightening around his cock in response to the slap to her ass.  It felt... nice.  Oddly nice, and she wanted another one.

 

When she got it, her sheath tightened around him again, rippling and massaging his cock with tight muscles, back arched to hold in the vibrator as it hummed against her, feeling the vibrations through the thin wall and into her front as well, shuddering at the gentle shakes that shot through her.  Her hands slowly slipped down to balance on Pete's shoulders as she squeezed them tightly, hugging him to her.

 

He saw the reaction he had to her and grabbed her ass with both of his large palms, filling his hands as he reared her closer, at an angle that he felt would please her, and using his knees, pressed into her back so that the vibrator and the head of his cock would thrust against her G-Spot each and every time. He began to thrust in earnest, hips bucking as he held her, intensely aware of her every emotion and movement as he did.

 

She felt so good inside. How could he ever describe it? She wriggled and squirmed around him with every little panting gasp, and he watched her, a man rapt, at her body. it was such a pleasure to look at, with small, firm breasts as gorgeous as little peaches, her body strong and slender, and her thighs tight around him like honey. She was just beautiful, and he couldn’t help moaning at her as he held her close. "S… Shay... Shay," He gasped, arching up into her as her muscles squirmed around something sensative on the head of his cock and sent pleasure up to his brain like a knife. "Shayla, Shay, I love you, I lov… love, oh, God, you."

 

Squeaks.  She was reduced to squeaking like an oily hinge.  She rocked on his lap hard and fast, smiling and stroking his throat with her fingernails, dragging them over his skin as she whimpered. 

 

The change in angle was all she needed.  Rocking hard, riding as she felt her ass in his hands and she melted, letting him move her as she wrapped her arms around him, and brought her mouth down to his.  Hard, sucking kiss as she murmured back in his mouth.  "Pete... love you.  In love with you... been since day I saw you... thank you."  She sucked his tongue hard again, gripping his cock tightly with her sheath as she slid a hand down between them, rubbing her clit gently and scraping light nails along his cock though she didn't mean to.

 

And he found himself arching, blindly, and letting out a desperate, harsh cry of need. He gripped the fleshy skin of her backside and held on as he bucked, thrusting twice before he exploded. He came hard, violently, letting out a shrill, deeply pitched cry of ecstasy escape him as he thrust and held inside of her. A heavy, rumbling cry of pleasure and he grasped her, harder, even as he rode out his orgasm. His thumb went to her clit, pushing her fingers away and rubbing against her in fast, light little circles, his thumb going to her more sensitive nipple and pinching it, tugging it away from her body and rolling it in his fingers.

 

Even through the condom, Shayla could feel the hot spurts of his orgasm and she whimpered at the thought; she'd made him lose it this time.  A hard shudder, a twist of her hips on his fingers and she followed, coming hard, teeth biting her lip as her body arched, riding and squeezing him hard.

 

Pete lashed forward and did it for her. He grasped her lip between his teeth, biting a little harder then he'd intended to but sucking and kissing it better, his fingers holding and rocking her as she came. God, and Christ, he liked being between her thighs. He held her tighter to him, gentling his thrusting hips, and gazed into her eyes as he slumped back against the headboard. Face to face, and yeah, he liked it like this. He grinned at her hazily, lazily, murmuring softly as he reached behind her and slid the vibration off, pulling her close and sighing.

 

She squirmed just a little bit, body squeezing and contracting as she got comfortable in his lap, curling up against him and rubbing her cheek against his, nose to nose.  "You're always full of surprises, Pete Ross," she whispered, snuggling up against him.  Cuddling was the amazing part of sex with Pete, because he was so good at it.

 

He couldn’t help the proud grin, sliding the little vibrator from her body and tossing it on the floor. He stayed inside her, though, because it pleased him, and wrapped his arms around her as he pressed his face close. She was so small, just a slight thing in his arms, and he sighed softly as he linked himself wherever he hadn’t. Cheeks and arms and legs and bodies. He buried her close, grinning into her ear, and kissed her hair. "Like?"

 

"Like using vibrators in the most fun places," she giggled, half unbelieving because she'd never really even thought about it there, but oh, it had felt good.  "And it's gotta be you... because honestly... spankings were never quite so fun ever before."  She buried a smirk in his throat as she blushed.

 

Oh, he laughed. He just cracked up, eyes wide and dancing, and pulled her closer, his huge fingers running through all her curls. "Pronouns gone. Pete like." But he smiled and buried it in her hair, rubbing his lips against it as he breathed in the soft scent he could never quite place. "I’ve never done it before. Felt you inside... wanted you to ripple around me." And the thought had a shiver running through him.

 

"Big strong caveman," she teased.  "Pete like.  Shay like.  Happy people good.  Sex good."  She stroked his cheek with her fingertips.  "I do love you, you know," she added softly, and snuggled closer at the feel of his lips against her hair.  "I'd never done it before either, but hey... with me, that's a given.  You did good for someone who hadn't done it before."

 

"Big strong black man. Pete like his Shay." He stroked a hand down her cheek, because it was reassurance. It was... yeah. "Pete love Shay, even without sex. Pete love Shay a lot. Pete too shy to tell her." Quietly, as he shifted and pulled her closer.

 

Shay kissed his throat again as he repositioned her.  "Shay love Pete, too, no matter what.  Shay wanted Pete first time she saw him."  She giggled.  "Shay like big strong black man long as his name is Pete Ross."

 

Oh, he laughed. Just burst out laughing, long and heartily, and because it amused him so much, he wrapped his arms around her and snuggled her up tight. "Good for me my name happens to be Pete Ross, huh?"

 

"Oh yeah.  You're damned lucky.  See, now, if you'd been CJ Ross, or Andy Ross, or even oh... say Clark Kent or Whitney Fordman... no.  Wouldn't ever happen.  But yeah... you just happened to be the One."

 

 

"I’m a lucky bastard that way." Pete murmured it, and stroked his palms over her breasts and chest without looking, down to where they were still joined. "Shay?"

 

"Yeah, you are."  She rested her chin on his shoulder so she could look up.  "Yeah?"

 

"Do you know how beautiful you are?"

 

She shook her head.  "Only as beautiful as you think I am."

 

"My brain, while complete liquid ooze while we were having sex, just… that’s why I had to pull your arms up. I had to look without them in the way. Shayla, everything about you… you're so beautiful." But he blushed, because compliments embarrassed him. "I mean… really. You’re so pretty, everywhere. Just...thought maybe you'd like to know."

 

Shayla pulled back, leaning away just enough to rub his chest with her palms.  "Pete... you are too.  Not... not pretty, I mean.  Handsome.  Strong... well cut... big in every sense of the word."  She shook her head slightly.  "You... you're just... amazing.  And I'm gonna keep sayin' that til you believe me."

 

He grinned crookedly at her. "You're really good at that, you know. Changing subjects. We're talking about you, though thanks anyway. But. You. Look at you. I mean, lets start with the lips. I mean, hello. Helloooo. Look at those lips. He skimmed his knuckles gently over them. "nd your skin, all over, is soft as milk. It gets flushed when I please you, and I love that."

 

The flush that Pete had just mentioned started to spread out.  "Pete--I'm just... me.  I'm not ugly, but I'm just... you know, me.  Shay.  The kid with the pink hair and fake tattoos--which, are gone.  Your fault, by the way."  She grinned at him, and kissed his knuckles.  "You bring out me.  I mean, the real me.  Sarcasm and all.  Nobody... has before.  I just... haven't let them.  But you... I couldn't help it with you."

 

"Don’t change the subject." He murmured again, continuing to speak. "I’m crazy about your collar bone. They’re deep, but not so much… just enough to dip my tongue in." He traced as he spoke, sighing softly in pure male pleasure. "And your breasts. They’re not small, not like you think… they’re perfect. Fit in my hands nice." Which he did a moment later. "I love your nipples. They’re rosy, not brown like some women. And your belly...slender, perfect for me to grab when I’m dancing with you." he slipped his fingers down, further, over her outstretched mound as he moved a little inside of her. "Here. So tight, and you taste like sugar and spice. Your legs... your ass. They’re tight, strong, perfect to push yourself to orgasm." And he reached to either side of her, sliding his face close as he reached for her feet. "And I’ve got to say, these are just damn cute."

 

Shayla's blush deepened, and it spread out over her body as he named each part of it.  Happy, gentle sighs as he touched her warmly, and she giggled as his fingertips brushed over her feet.  "Those are two left feet, thank you very much.  You're just good enough a dancer that nobody noticed."

 

He grinned at her. "Did you like it? Really?" Spoken, of course, while he tickled each tiny toe. Christ, she must have been a size 6, at the most. It was just so fucking cute he couldn’t help grinning sideways, wrinkling his nose at her.

 

Shayla giggled as he tickled each one of her toes.  "Yes... I really did like it."  Her toes wiggled and she squirmed, which just tightened her sheath around him as she moved in his lap.  "That tickles."

 

"I know." He murmured, and yeah, he was aware of the adverse affects of his tickling her. He gently wrapped an arm around her, and his hips moved again, shifting as he began to harden inside her. Goosebumps flew over his skin, his fingers stroking down her back.

 

She purred in his ear as he stroked her back.  She couldn't help it.  She arched into the gentle petting, squirming more on his lap and getting comfortable as he grew inside her again.  "Mmm... you feel good."

 

"Shayla... I think... I’m going to make love with you again." He murmured, as he shifted, keeping her waist and thighs close as he stretched out on the bed atop her. He laced his fingers through her own and started to rock, so very gently, his eyes dancing as he pressed kisses to her face. "I hope you don’t mind."

 

Shayla raised one leg to wrap around his waist, pulling him down further onto her as she arched into the easy kisses.  "Oh... I think I could... find a way to live with it."

 

 

-fin-

 

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