Epilogue: Confessions

Clark Kent had been looking at Lois strangely for weeks. Hovering closer. Helping her with doors, chairs. Being especially conscientious. Lois hoped that this wasn't some puppy-love crush. It really wasn't the time for it.

On her knees in the family bathroom of the Daily Planet, staring at lunch swirling down the commode, the last thing she wanted to think about was breaking his heart.

Six weeks. She had been living the lie for six weeks. Part of her had wanted to get an abortion, but Lois knew she couldn't do that. Other women, sure. Their body, their choice. But for Lois Lane...she couldn't help but feel the knot of fear in her stomach and think of it as my baby. Even if it was just a clump of cells right now.

Maybe if she had miscarried it would be easier. Women miscarried all the time. But the farther along she got, the less likely that seemed. So she had been taking the vitamins and scheduling the appointments and...and trying to psych herself up for all the lies she'd have to tell. Who was the father? How had she gotten pregnant? Why had she kept it?

Lois brushed her teeth, rinsed with mouthwash. At least this late, there was almost no one else in the office to wonder why she had dashed off so suddenly. One less lie she had to tell.

There was a knock at the bathroom door.

"Just a minute," she called, wondering who it could be.

"Lois? It's Clark. Can I...come in?"

The pregnant reporter blinked. That was...completely unexpected. Her heart felt like a lump of lead when she realized he must be ready to confess to her.

Rip that bandaid off now, Lane, she told herself. You're not doing either of you any favors stringing him along.

She opened the door. He stood there, hulking a couple inches over six feet, though he usually was so stoop-shouldered you wouldn't know it. Clark had played football in college and it still showed; broad as a linebacker but with none of the gut. Sky-blue eyes behind those glasses, a chin to kill for. His smile, familiar as always, was kind as Mr. Rogers.

"What is it Smallville? There's a men's room, you know."

The gentle giant stepped forward, into the room, and Lois retreated two steps to give him space as he closed the door behind him. He stood up taller then...and Lois knew she should be afraid. A large man in a restroom alone with a single woman was a recipe for a sexual harassment suit, if not something worse...but she knew Clark Kent. He was harmless.

"I know you're pregnant."

The bottom seemed to fall out of Lois Lane's soul. She began to shake. He knew...he knew her secret, he...

"How?" She whispered. "How could you possibly...?"

He removed his glasses and stuck them in his shirt pocket. A small change, but it made an enormous difference to his bearing and demeanor. Big hands pulled at the buttons of his shirt with a well-practiced gesture. The bright yellow-and-red of the S-shield came into view.

"I smelled it, the day after you came in from the club." His voice still had the same broad Kansas accent, but something else behind it, something Lois didn't recognize. "This morning, I heard the fetus' heart beat for the first time."

"I couldn't...I couldn't tell you," tears well in Lois Lane's eyes. "I'm sorry Clark, I'm so...so..."

He kept unbuttoning his shirt...and when he got down to his pants, he undid his belt. Unzipped the fly. The red shorts and yellow belt of his costume were underneath his street clothes...and the reporter watched in strange fascination as he undid that belt too.

"I have to confess something to you Lois. I've liked you for a long time. But I...I have a fetish..."

He pulled down pants and let his Man of Steel swing free.

It was hairless, and a little on the long and thick side, though nothing that would give the reporter pause for complaint. If anything, it looked...perfect. Textbook dick. Curving upwards a little, the scarlet head like a little Greek helmet.

"...for pregnant women. I know that sounds weird and I...don't want to put you on the spot. But could you...would you..."

Lois blushed. "You want me to blow you?"

"No!" he blushed. "I mean, yes, I mean..."

He fell to one knee, the cock not even wobbling a little. His great big hands took her own in his.

"Lois Lane, will you marry me?"

She froze in fear. It was everything she had dreamed of and dreaded. How could she marry him, carrying someone else's baby in her belly? But he knew, didn't he? Was it just that she was pregnant? Was it...was that so wrong? Nothing about this was right, but if he knew and wanted it, and she wanted it, and...

"It's going to be okay, Lois," he said. "I love you. I want to help you with the baby. I want to help both of you...forever. Please. Say yes."

The pregnant woman couldn't stop staring at that cock. So hard it must hurt like a sonofabitch. Hard for her. And he was...Clark Kent. Clark Kent was Superman. Superman wanted to fuck her. Wanted to marry her.

Tears fell down her cheeks. If she could let herself be honest with what she really wanted...after six weeks of being terrified when someone found out, of giving birth alone, raising a child alone, spending the rest of her life as a single mother...if she could just say what was in her heart...

"Yes!" She cried, smiling, pussy trembling with excitement. "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes, I'll marry you!"