Epilogue: Milk & Honey

Five days after birth, Lois had just put the twins to bed and was studying the grimoire when she heard a knock at the door. Hurriedly, she threw on a bathrobe, wincing as she cinched it tight around a waist that hadn't yet recovered from giving birth. Her enhanced breasts dribbled milk into the black cotton. Whether it was the spell or the twins or both, Lois Lane had no problems making enough milk to feed her babies...and her own appetite had increased accordingly, to make up for the increased milk production. Hoping she was decent enough to answer the door, Lois opened it...

Clark Kent had come to call.

He brought diapers, clothes, rattles, baby formula, and an unassembled crib tucked under one beefy arm. Lois hadn't had a baby shower, but Smallville was bound and determined to make up for it...nor could she stop him as he took off coat and hat and began to assemble the crib right then and there in her bedroom.

Lois felt self-conscious about the state of her apartment—the crusading investigative reporter wasn't a great housekeeper at the best of times—but Clark seemed to cheerfully ignore the smell of a trash can full of dirty diapers, or the messy clutter that was Lois Lane's overflowing bookshelf, her unmade bed where Lily & Luna lay watching the proceedings with silent amusement. The crib swiftly came together swiftly, and Lois was glad to have another adult to talk to.

Yet at the same time, the reporter could sense that Clark was distracted...and it wasn't hard to see what was distracting him. Less than a week ago, Lois Lane's bathrobe would have been modest, covering her from neck to below the knee with barely any skin showing. However, a week was two babies ago, and she knew she'd gone up at least a dress size. Now with her robe cinched tight over a wider waist, her braless breasts **** the top of the robe open, revealing a rather generous amount of cleavage...something Lois had never had to show before.

More than that, Kent seemed pensive. Like he wanted to ask her something. After the crib was finished, Lois carefully transferred the girls to their new crib. They slept like little angels. Clark stared down at them, but tall as he was, he could not help stealing a glance or two at the reporter's new cleavage.

"Smallville," she whispered, so as not to wake the babies. "If you keep looking like that, I'm going to start charging you by the minute."

His face flushed, but he didn't look away.

"Lois," he said. "As a friend, I have to ask...about your pregnancy. It wasn't natural, was it?"

The reporter sucked in her breath. She knew that she'd have to explain the situation to someone at some point...and Clark, at least, might not judge her too harshly.

They sat on the bed, and she brought out the book to show him. She explained how she had got it...how she had played with it...and started to master its magic. He sat next to her, so close that their knees touched, and she could smell that strange masculine scent of his...there was something about Clark Kent that always reminded her of clean clothes hung out on the washing line to dry under a bright summer sun...he just always smelled so clean and sun-kissed.

"...I don't regret it," Lois said when she finished. She stole a glance behind her back at where the babies were sleeping. "My babies are worth it."

His hands were on his knees, balled into fists.

"Lois...I want to help you," he said. "But I don't know how."

"Oh Clark," Lois leaned against him, and felt the bathrobe slip out of place just enough to reveal one dark nipple. "You've already helped so much...being my friend. I wish I could do something for you..."

Her left hand slid over to rest on his. Her right hand pulled the robe outside a little. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his face.

"Smallville...you told me once you were adopted as a baby, right? So you never breastfed?"

"That's right," he said, voice thick.

Lois reached down and uncinched her robe.

"Wanna try it?" She gave a smile. "Don't worry about stealing from the twins, I've been leaking like crazy since that spell...my flow is ridiculous. The last few nights I've woken up and my breasts have been so full I was afraid they'd burst."

Gently, she helped the adult man onto his back, his head in her lap. His glasses had steamed up, but he was offering no resistance.

"I thought once the babies were born I'd be able to sleep on my stomach again," she said as she brought her nipple down to his mouth. "But with those ladies, there's no way I...ah!"

He latched on. Lois bit her lower lip as he began to suck. Her breasts were so much more sensitive now...and though she tried to deny it, there was something so sensual and intimate about breastfeeding. Plus, his tongue was circling her nipple, even as his mouth worked, and hot little streams of breast milk shot into his mouth for him eagerly to swallow.

Lois began to pant, leaning into it. Her right hand found its way to his chest...fussed with his shirt...slipped under some kind of undershirt, and then her hand was trapped there, between his clothes and his naked, hairy chest...and it was so warm, his skin. The reporter's hands circled through the carpet of his chest hair, seeking...seeking...and finding what she was searching for. A hard little nipple, stiff as the tip of a baby's bottle. As Clark Kent drank her milk, Lois felt the dampness gathering between her legs...she didn't have anything on besides the bathrobe, which meant she was really naked...with a man...in her own apartment...

"Clark," she gulped, when she could speak again. "I need...but I can't...I could get pregnant again, so easily..." she huffed, swallowed, tried again. "But we can do...other things."

Which is how, very few moments later, Clark Kent found himself naked on the bed. Neither of them had a condom, but Lois Lane had some lube, and what she had planned wouldn't have any chance of pregnancy.

He looked like a fallen god as she straddled him, and once again she was conscious of her pregnancy-ruined body...but his hands sank appreciatively into the soften flesh of her wider hips, and he helped guide her downward until the tip of his prick press against her asshole. Lois was almost quivering with excitement and unsated sexual need, the kind of need she would normally turn to her grimoire for, but now...with Clark here...

She pressed down, closing her eyes, trying to relax. He was so stiff...and a little bigger than the demonic dick of the book, or at least it felt that way. Slowly, achingly slowly, she eased herself down until her softer, bigger ass was resting on his balls...and then he raised himself up, those great muscles rippling beneath his skin, and latched on to her other breast.

They made love like that, slowly, minute melding into minute. Clark Kent seemed utterly enraptured by Lois Lane's milk-swollen breasts, but his hands roamed all over her body, exploring, touching, massaging. Lois ground against his cock, lost in the sensations of his sucking mouth and stiff prick in her backside at the same time. Slowly, together, they moved. It was like no lovemaking that Lois had ever known. The book had been such a crutch to her, since she had come across it, that Lois had forgotten what it was like to be with another person...someone who could touch and be touched, who was more than a piece of meat.

When, by mutual consent, they had finished, they lay down together, side by side. Staring at the crib. Soon, the twins would be hungry again, or need their diapers changed, or have to be entertained. Lois gave a little sigh, glad for the few stolen moments, even as she felt Clark Kent's cum leak out of her ass.

"You know Lois," Clark said, not at all out of breath despite his rigorous performance. "I could help you...more."

"You like the service at the milk bar that much?" Lois teased.

He smiled. Pushed his black frame glasses back up his nose. "You know I do. But I mean, if you wanted to make this a...more permanent arrangement..."

Lois blinked. "Clark, what are you saying?"

He took a deep breath. "Lois Lane...will you marry me?"

Her jaw fell open. Her heart stopped. Somewhere, the book slipped to the flood with a crash, sending the babies to howling as their sleep was disturbed. The reporter turned to look at her babies.

Clark's hand came up on her shoulder.

"You don't have to answer me now," he said. "But think about it. I can be there to help you...and the babies."

Lois looked back at him, ignoring for a moment the twins' distress.

"You mean...even though they aren't...yours?"

He smiled. "I don't know if I can have kids. Normally, I mean. So...no, it doesn't really matter to me. As long as they're your children, they could be...ours."

"Oh, Clark!" she said, and bent down to kiss him.

Unseen by either of them, the red bookmark of the grimoire whipped itself about, as though stirred by an invisible tornado.