Epilogue: Recovery

The nausea had stopped. Her appetite had come back. The Amazon doctor had given Lois and the baby a clean bill of health. She stood on the threshold, suitcase in one hand, the other on her swollen stomach.

"You can come back, any time you need to," Diana assured her. "If you need to talk, or just a cup of tea. We're here for you."

"Thanks, Di," Lois said. "But I need to move on with my life."

Clark Kent stood on the sidewalk. He nodded at Diana, but kept a respectful distance. Men weren't welcome in her shelter, and Clark knew it.

"Take your suitcase?" he offered...and Lois surprised him by not only letting him carry her bag, but clutched onto his arm. He smiled at that, and arm in arm they walked down the sidewalk, to the subway...and Lois Lane felt good to be around people again. To be allowed to be among people. Not to ask permission. Not to be afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing. To be free.

"Everything's moved over," Clark said. Lois nodded. It had been the one favor she had asked of him, to close out her old apartment, the one she'd shared with Blaze, and move over the few personal possessions she wanted to keep. Everything else had too many bad memories, painful memories. Ones she didn't want to relive.

She trusted him to do that. Trusted Clark with a lot of things. Now that she knew, in no uncertain terms, who he really was...who he always had been. And there had been a lot of soul-searching when Lois had realized that. What they had had, or almost had, right under her nose the whole time. Her hand rested on her baby bump, and she wondered, as she had wondered long and hard the last couple of weeks, whether it was too late.

The apartment was a ground-floor studio in an area that was rapidly gentrifying. Clark had negotiated a five-year lease at about half of what Lois was paying for her old apartment. She explored her new space: all the furniture was thrift-store antique, but completely refinished, the wood lovingly sanded and stained and polished like new. Lois had a sudden twinge of intuition and knew Clark had done it himself.

Her few essentials were there: her Pulizer, framed first pages, pictures of her family, her laptop and the battered military filing cabinet where she kept her hardcopy files. He had set up one corner of the open room as an office, with a slim new printer and scanner still in their plastic wrap, and another corner as a nursery, complete with a stout crib changing table. There were packages of diapers, cups and plates in the kitchen, a chiffarobe instead of a closet which eld the clothes she asked for...

It was almost too much.

She turned to him, with tears in her eyes. He had set the keys on the table, next to a small pile of paperwork—insurance forms, **** certificate for Angelica Blaze—and her accumulated mail.

"Are you hungry?" he asked. "I've stocked you up with a few non-perishables, or I can get takeout—"

"Smallville," she said, as she hung off his arm. "I...can't thank you enough. I'm not even going to try. But I need to ask you to do something for me. Something I wouldn't ask anyone else."

"Anything," he said instantly.

Lois Lane unlatched her arm and pulled her dress up over her head. To stand there, in her white panties that looked too small with the four-month baby bump, and the white bra that was getting a little tight as her breasts swelled a little.

"I haven't...it's been a month, Clark. My hormones are going crazy, and I...want..." she buried her head against his chest. He smelled like laundry left out in the summer sun to dry. His big arms closed around her almost instinctively. "I want you. Please. I know I've made so many mistakes and...and you don't have to worry about the baby, they won't be in the way, you can take me from behind and..."

His hands reached down to crush her ass to him, and she could feel, for the first time, how big he was. How hard he was, for her. Lifted her clear up off the ground so that he could silence her with a kiss. It was a chaste kiss, nothing of the oral **** that Blaze used to subject her to...but there was a shiver of passion that ran through him, of barely-constrained need.

He carried her over to the bed and laid her down. His blue eyes drank in the sight of her as her pulled off the frumpy suits he affected...and seemed to straighten up. The wide shoulders bulged with muscle as his tie hit the floor. Lois pulled off her bra and panties as his shirt and pants came off...she was awed at the sight of his hairy chest, as perfectly sculpted as a bodybuilder's, the abs so well defined she could grind meat on them. She shook, suddenly aware of how wet she was as his boxers came off...and his cock came into view.

Shorter than she had imagined, no longer than the average six-inch cock, but broader. As thick as her wrist at the base, and barely narrowing at all on the way to the round tip with the very prominent glans. It was, Lois was glad to see, so completely different from Angie's dick...

The glasses came off last...and that was when Lois Lane knew, she wasn't just about to be fucked by Clark Kent. She was going to get fucked by Superman.

"I was thinking," he said. "If you get on your side, and lift your leg...I can squeeze in behind you."

A flash of the old Lois Lane came back, for a moment. She smiled wickedly and cocked an eyebrow as she assumed the position. "And how long, exactly, have you been thinking about fucking a pregnant woman, Smallville?"

He smiled back as she slid into place. Guided the head of his cock to her wet slit.

"I've wanted to make love to you for a long time, Lois," he said. "and I happen to find pregnant women very, very sexy."

Lois had no more words. Not when that cock squeezed into her cunny, the girth utterly obliterating her ability for conscious thought as it stretched her pink labia wide. His hands came around and from behind, big hands that completely covered her swollen breasts...and his mouth planted kissed on her shoulders, her neck, her face as she began to move against him.

It wasn't fucking. Not the way Blaze did it, the way she made Lois feel as if she was taking something from her or forcing something on her. Clark was eager, but in control. Hungry, yet restrained. They worked together, explored what made each other feel good. She actually had to guide him, to lower one of those big mitts down and gently stroke her clit. He was so patient too, as Lois lost herself in that gentle strength...until the lights danced behind her eyes and her breath came in ragged gasps, one hand under her to cradle her gravid abdomen as she shook and spasmed, her body pressed against his, her cunt on fire...and if they did not cum together, it wasn't long afterwards that she felt him tense and shudder, that big bear of a man, and something hot dribbled out of her pussy and...and she was glad to have done that much for him.

"You know," she said as he held her in the afterglow. "A woman could get used to that."

He kissed the corner of her mouth.

"Anytime you wish," he promised.

She turned to smile at him, an impish smile on her face.

"What will people think?"

She didn't mean it seriously, but there was a sparkle in his blue eyes as he gave her the answer in her heart of hearts she had wanted, all these long weeks, to hear...