Just for fun. No billionaires, farmboys, or bats were harmed in creating this story. Fourth in the "foot fetish" series--follows Road Trippin' found in Wave 13 of the ClexFest at www.kardasi.com/.

When Lex and Clark emerged from the ruined bus into the echoing space that passed for the "garage" in Wayne Manor (at least the public garage), Clark was relieved to see no one, especially Bruce, lingering to greet them. Checking the time via his com, he realized that it was nearly 4 a.m.

Entering into a dimly lit service corridor, Lex tugged him past the kitchen, toward some stairs at the back. "Where are we going, Lex?"

"To bed, of course." Lex glanced back at him, amused. "I feel like I've been fucked through the side of a bus, and would like to recuperate a bit."

Oh. Clark hung his head, ashamed. "I'm sorry I ruined your bus. It was a really nice bus. Just like a rock star's."

Lex snorted and remarked, "While it lasted." Suddenly, he turned around and pushed Clark against the wall next to the stairs. "Trust me, Clark, that memory is worth far more to me than any bus. As are you." Pausing only momentarily to kiss his lover soundly, Lex continued up the stairs, confidently leading Clark by the hand.

"Do you know where you're going? It's a big house."

"Of course I know where I'm going. I have a regular room here."

Clark stopped unexpectedly, tugging on Lex's hand. "What do you mean? I didn't know you were that buddy buddy with Bruce," Clark said suspiciously.

"Don't worry, love. Bruce and I have known each other since school, but you're my always and forever, believe that." Pushing Clark in front of him, they reached a room on the second floor and Lex ushered Clark in. "I'm sorry, Clark, I promise I'll tell you all about it, but do you mind if we get some sleep now? I'm beat."

Clark allowed himself to be guided through the sitting room and toward the giant four-poster in the center of the bedroom. Pushed by Lex onto the bed, he bounced on the lofty mattress, eyeing himself in the large mirror hung strategically at the end of the bed. Lex went into the bathroom adjoining the room and made splashy noises. Clark eased back contentedly, willing to let the subject go. For now.

Later, in the dim morning, he held his precious boyfriend close to him, watching him sleep. Not being especially sleepy himself, Clark nevertheless knew the value of a wakeup ritual starting the day, so he let himself fall into dreams, breathing Lex's air as he snuggled in to him. He decided to let tomorrow take care of itself.

Clark watched as Lex he calmly buttered a scone in the morning light. "Okay, bub, time to spill. What's going on? Why are we in Gotham, and who were all those people on the bus? And what's the deal with you and Bruce?"

Lex merely raised his eyes mildly to Clark and bit into his scone. Clark wasn't fooled. He knew that look. Lex was Up to Something. Clark leaned back in the dainty little garden chair that went with the breakfast set, setting it to creaking alarmingly, and crossed his arms across his chest. It was the pose he used to intimidate people and encourage them to loosen their tongues, and it usually worked like a charm.

"Relax, caro. I'm in Gotham to attend the Fashion Week opening gala and the launch of the lines of shoes I'm sponsoring, "Fetishe."

Clark grimaced, and the muscles in his arms bulged alarmingly as he tightened his arms. "Lex, not another fashion thing," he complained half-heartedly. "Are you planning to dress me up and parade me the whole week?" While completely willing to indulge Lex in his interests, dressing up and mingling with a bunch of weird fashion people was not high on Clark's list of good times.

"The whole week, no. Just tonight, at the launch party, and tomorrow night at the opening gala. As a matter of fact, Arturo should be here pretty soon with some clothes for you."

Now Clark more than grimaced; he groaned. "Arturo?"

"My stylist," Lex replied calmly.

"Stylist." Clark uncrossed his arms and sighed. "You have a stylist. Okay, so this was your big secret project? The shoe line? Are you putting your name on pornographic shoes, Lex?"

Lex laughed. "No, no, not my name, just my money, and they're not pornographic. Well, not precisely. But we've been working with this fantastic designer from Italy, and I do have some creative control. You'll like them. See, there's only a women's line now, but . . ."

Clark held up his hand to cut off the outpouring before Lex could really get started. Lex in shoe mode could go on for hours. "Okay, yeah, I'm sure, and you can tell me all about it later, but what about those people on the bus? Who are where, by the way? They weren't there last night when we--stopped. Thank god." He added the last under his breath.

"They're all connected with the shoe production, and are all in downtown Gotham at the hotel where the gala will be. Trust me, Clark, this will be fun, and I'll get to show off my gorgeous, stunning, boyfriend. You like being shown off, don't you, Clark?" Lex asked slyly.

He did indeed like being shown off by Lex. A lot of people stared at him, but Lex owned him, and the thought of being claimed in public, however subtly, as Lex's property made him squirm with desire. He subsided into his eggs and bacon momentarily, but started up again after a few bites. "Well, what about Bruce's involvement in this? And that doesn't explain why you seem to know his house like the back of your hand."

Just then, Lex's cell phone rang, and he answered it, rather rudely in Clark's view, since they were having a conversation. "Luthor. Yes, we'll be right up." Standing up and wiping his lips on a snowy linen napkin, Lex said, "Come on, Clark, back to the bedroom. I'll explain."

Winding their way back through the halls of stately Wayne Manor, Lex crowded up against Clark's back and began to whisper. "I've known Bruce a long time, Clark. Since we were at school. He was a couple of years older than me, but he was considered a "proper" associate by my father, so we were thrown together. He had a reputation as a sullen loner, rather like myself." Suddenly stopping in a corner of the second floor before their room, Lex continued, in a very low voice, pressing his body against Clark's.

"You have to understand about Bruce, Clark. He was a very lonely boy who had undergone a severe trauma. By nature, or by circumstance, he was very different from most people. Unlike you, his real self is truly expressed through his alternate persona, and you know how dark that is. He was, from the beginning, really very twisted."

But before Clark could ask what exactly Lex meant by that, he was pulled into the sitting room adjoining their bedroom to encounter racks of clothing and a well dressed man (though not, of course, as well dressed as Lex) -- Arturo, he supposed, waiting for them. Clark directed a heated, frustrated glance at Lex before turning to be introduced to the stylist.

"Arturo, this is Clark Kent. Will you show me the things you have picked for him, please?

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kent. Of course, Mr. Luthor, I have several items for him to choose from, and I have your clothing, ready, too of course." Eyeing Clark as if he were a mountain to scale, Arturo came closer.

Clark held out his hand, stopping Arturo's advance. "Just a minute. You brought clothes for me?"

"Yes, of course sir. Just let me show you . . ."

Ignoring the man, Clark turned to Lex and said, "Just what do I need?"

"You need an outfit for tonight's party, and a more formal one for the gala tomorrow."

"Okay, but I can choose, right?"

"Well, within reason. Arturo knows what I'm wearing, of course."

"Okay. Come on, Arturo, let's get this over with. Why don't you lay out the first outfit for me to try on, and I'll be right there." As Arturo turned to his rack of clothes, Clark turned to his boyfriend and whispered fiercely, "Are you and Bruce lovers, Lex? 'Cause I don't care how twisted he is, you belong to me."

"Only to you, of course my love. It's just that Bruce and I have a certain--history."

Beginning to growl, Clark leaned in closely to Lex, only to jerk away at Arturo's inquiry, "Ready, Mr. Kent?" Giving Lex a smoldering look, he went into to the other room to inspect the first offering. Quickly sorting through the garments, he argued distractedly with the stylist, his mind on Lex and Bruce and their "history," finally choosing a semi-formal outfit and a tuxedo which seemed tolerable to him and acceptable to Arturo. He was getting better at this stuff.

Clark emerged from the bedroom only to find Lex ensconced in the sitting room in front of his computer talking on the phone, apparently to a LexCorp employee. Lex looked up and mouthed, "Sorry," before returning to his phone call. Frustrated, Clark left the suite and started looking for a certain bat boy. He had something which needed to be said to the other man.

He heard voices and clattering and headed for the main part of the house. There he found Alfred supervising the catering personnel as they set up for the party to be held that night at the mansion for Lex's shoes. "Alfred, have you seen Bruce?"

Alfred said, "I'm sorry, Master Clark, but I'm afraid he's left the property. Something about the arrangements for tonight. Is there something I can do for you?" Unfortunately for Alfred, despite the cool aplomb he exhibited Clark could tell from his bodily responses that the older man was lying.

"Thanks, Alfred, I'll talk to him later." Clark walked away and began searching the manor house with his x-ray vision, concentrating on the levels beneath the house proper. As he suspected, he found Bruce's skeleton deep beneath the house, working on something or other which Clark couldn't make out. Surveying the house's structure, he noted a few entrances into the caves below, but opted to fly in to the cave exit below on the cliff.

Clark touched down in the interior of the Bat Cave and looked around curiously. He had never been here before. Clark noted without surprise that after only a few seconds, Bruce, who was wearing civvies, stiffened over the console he was looking at, and said, "Clark. So good of you to drop in."

Bruce's diction and attitude retained the stamp of prep school, just as Lex's did, and Clark was reminded uncomfortably of their shared "history." He took a step forward and opened his mouth to speak, but Bruce forestalled him, lifting a hand.

"I know, Clark. You don't have to say anything. Be assured that Lex is a friend of mine, as are you, if I may be so forward, and I only wish you both the best. You are both unique men and I'm pleased you have found each other. And if you ask me, it's about damn time."

Clark closed his mouth with a snap. "You knew?"

"Of course. I've made it a point to learn all I can about my allies, of which you are one, and I've known Lex for a very long time. I am, after all, trained in observation."

Uh huh. Clark knew that about the man; always sneaking about in dark corners "observing" people. A bit nonplussed at having his entire righteous speech preempted, Clark merely stated, "Right. So long as you understand. It's just that I never knew you and Lex were so close, but Lex told me you were at school together." Clark paused and then said, challengingly. "He also told me you were a twisty bastard."

"Oh really?" Bruce replied coolly. "And did he mention how much he enjoyed it?"

Clark gritted his teeth and stepped back. He liked Bruce, in both his incarnations, he really did, even if they sometimes didn't see eye to eye. Judging that further words would be counterproductive, he turned to leave with nothing more than a pointed look of warning.

Back in the suite, Lex was still on the phone, this time calling up spreadsheets and email accounts in multiple windows on his computer. "Screw it. I'm going to take a nap," he announced, not even staying to see if Lex was paying attention. Minutes later he was in his favorite napping spot on the beach in Mexico, soaking up the sun which gave him so much power. Digging into the hot sand with his toes, he tried hard not to imagine any part of the upcoming fashion party fiasco, or allow thoughts of Bruce and Lex together to intrude upon his siesta.

Later, standing in Wayne Manor's ornate library after dinner trying to be polite to Lex's shoe designer (an Italian gentleman who Clark thought his parents would charitably label a "character"), Clark acknowledged that he had only been partly successful in keeping stray thoughts of his host and his lover out of his head. It had been late in the afternoon when Clark returned to Gotham. He had been frustrated and half-hard when he entered the suite, but glad to locate Lex in the shower. Grinning to himself now as he accepted another glass of champagne from the liveried waiter, he remembered the sweet, slick interlude of soapy wet fun they had shared, followed by Clark tenderly blow drying them both with his warm superbreath. Lost in his reverie, he nevertheless noticed Lex as he glided up to press himself against his side.

"Whatever Mr. Balduco is saying to you must be awfully interesting, Clark, judging by the expression on your face."

Coloring faintly, Clark recovered. "Oh, right, he was just explaining how challenging making the lasts for this line is." Clark blessed the alien ability to track separate trains of thought as much as he ever had in school. "But I think you and I still have some things to discuss, Lex. Excuse me, Mr. Balduco, good luck with your endeavor." The impeccably dressed man beamed, not immune to Clark's good looks and charms, even as Clark moved his boyfriend away into the great room, where several people were dancing to the sounds of Bruce's well equipped stereo.

Clark glanced at the colorful crowd in their wild clothes then down at his own simple, but expensive ensemble. "Jesus, Lex. Where did you get these people? It looks as if they were all dressed by color-blind mongeese."

"Mongeese, Clark?" Lex's eyes were laughing. "I assure you, as People's Best Dressed Man for the past five years, all these people reflect the height of fashion." Clark only grunted, gripping Lex tightly and beginning to sway to the music. The champagne flowed freely after the elaborate unveiling of the shoes themselves, and the partygoers were beginning to get very loud and animated.

Clark noted Bruce, in his guise of playboy bon vivant, in the center of a group of young men and women hanging on his every word. Sugar and Spice were among them, dressed in elaborate matching rubber outfits and heavy makeup. The outfits were designed to complement some of the more fanciful footwear creations in the "Fetishe" line, and Lex had been keeping a horny eye on them all night.

As if he sensed Clark's eyes upon him, Bruce suddenly looked up at Clark, brown eyes glinting. Clark hissed, and pulled Lex even closer, grinding his hips against his lover. Pretending to dance, Clark moved Lex into a darker corner and leaned into his ear. "So, you never got finished telling me about that history of yours," he said, not bothering to clarify which history. Lex knew.

He could feel Lex's mouth move into a smirk as he answered, speaking in a low, heated tone. "You seem pretty interested in what was between Bruce and me, Clark. Can't stop thinking about it, hmm?"

Clark growled and shook him a little. "Quit stalling and spill!"

"All right." Lex swayed with the music, turning Clark's imitation of dance into something a bit more socially acceptable. "I met Bruce at school when I was 11 and Bruce was 13. There was little privacy at school, and I became aware that Bruce would watch me. That was the first clue, really. Bruce had a habit of . . . " Lex trailed off.

"Yes?" Clark demanded.

"Well, he was a dirty Peeping Tom if you must know. Still is, really. He used to skulk around in that way of his, and ogle the boys in the showers and in the bathrooms, especially liking to catch them jacking off. And he was the king of the circle jerk, always goading boys to masturbate in front of each other."

Clutching his lover hard, Clark gasped. "You, too?"

"Oh, he went far beyond that with me." Clark shivered at the lasciviousness in Lex's voice.

Lex put his mouth up against Clark's ear and said, "His room was next to mine, and we would hang out sometimes. He would come over after lights out and wrestle and rough house with me, in our underwear, both of us getting aroused. We would parade around partially dressed or nude, jacking off together if we dared. He had a long leather coat which he had dug up somewhere, and he would wear it, and nothing else, or make me wear it while we wrestled around. It was all very adolescent. We were only boys, you understand, but I did have a huge crush on him. He was older, handsome, and was very commanding. He also had very nicely cared for, very big feet."

Rolling his eyes where Lex couldn't see them, Clark asked, curious, "Yeah? And what did he command you to do?"

Lex continued to dance against him for a moment, then said softly, "I let him tie me up and fuck me when I was twelve. He was my first."

"Oh, Jesus," Clark moaned, throbbingly excited at the thought. He started to sweat. Clark rubbed his cock in its elegant cage of cloth against Lex's lower body, torturing himself. "Lex, I never realized you shared that much history."

"Well anyone besides you is ancient history indeed, my love. But he's been a friend when I had very few. Although we haven't done much in recent years, I know he still likes to watch and he still likes to play those nasty games with leather." As one, they turned their heads to look at Bruce, who was still watching them steadily.

Clark shuddered with desire, and said, urgently, "Let's get out of here." Pulling Lex out of the room where the bulk of the party lingered, Clark started searching for an out-of-the-way place where he could indulge himself with his boyfriend. He began to take a shortcut through the side parlors to the stairs, but stopped short outside a row of closet doors in the corridor. Staring intently for a moment, he glanced at Lex in surprise, then pulled open one of the closet doors. There, amidst brooms and spare coats, were Sugar and Spice, extremely engaged with one another, their mouths smeared together and their hands busy underneath the elaborate outfits. Their rubber dresses squeaked rhythmically as they moved against each other, and tinkling, musical sounds emanated from between their legs in counterpoint to their breathy moans.

Showing the cool unflappability and decisiveness he was famous for, Lex smoothly pulled Clark into the closet next to the writhing women and pushed himself against Clark, kissing him roughly. Between kisses he panted, "Ladies, I'm so glad you're enjoying the party. I've been hoping to run into you. You know my boyfriend, Clark?" he inquired rhetorically, as he slid down to his knees, pulling Clark's zipper down with him.

Clark looked down at Lex, crouching next to the girls' feet as they finger fucked each other, their soft cries getting steadily louder. Lex dove down on Clark's cock and reached into his own pants to pull out and jack his cock slowly. Unbearably aroused by the tale of Bruce and Lex in school and the smell, sound, and sight of all the luscious activity around him, Clark felt his balls begin to draw up already in approaching orgasm. Just then, the two heavily tattooed women reached their peak together, moaning loudly as their movements slowed.

Lex squeezed Clark's cock hard at the base, preventing his orgasm. Clark wrenched his eyes away from the spectacle next to him, shocked and about to protest as Lex put him away and turned toward the women. "Ladies, that was beautiful. I would like to invite you to join us in say, ten minutes, in our room upstairs? I have something which I'd like to share with you." Giggling and panting, the girls gazed at Clark, obviously thinking Lex was referring to him. They agreed to meet upstairs in their room.

Racing up to their room, the two men were breathless and in a hurry, tumbling against each unsubtly. Once in their room, they started to kiss and sway against each other, tearing off their clothes carelessly. Clark thumbed Lex's nipples and nipped at his throat, while saying, "Lex, what are we going to do with those girls? Are we really going to fuck them?" he asked, excited by the thought. As much as he did love Lex and was turned on by him, absolutely and completely, Clark still liked girls.

"You'll see," replied Lex, as he sat down on the couch in the sitting room to remove his shoes. "I have a little surprise for them."

"You and your surprises," grumbled Clark as he imitated his lover, removing his belt and shoes. Lex got up and busied himself at the sitting room's small wet bar, pulling out several bottles of water.

A few moments later, there was a knock on the door. "Here we go," said Lex, grinning, and sauntered over to open the door for the ladies. Sugar and Spice stood there, giggling and looking over their shoulders, and Lex pulled them in, kissing first one, and then the other. Clark reached for them and took his turn kissing. Handing them the water, Lex said, "Excuse me a moment," leaving Clark to become better acquainted with them both on the settee.

"Hmm," Clark murmured as he played with the girls. "You are very pretty. Is this okay? Oh, what a great ass you have," he softly said as he passed his hands over the posterior of one of them. "Where is that noise coming from? I bet I know," Clark continued, as was his wont, speaking softly and sexily, while he waited for Lex. After long, sloppy moments kissing on the couch, Clark heard Lex's voice.

"Come in here, all of you, please. I think I have something you'll be interested in." Clark was sure of it.

When they were all in the bedroom, grouped around the four-poster, Lex silkily suggested, "Why don't you take your clothes off and make yourselves comfortable," and began divesting himself of his own clothes. "But leave the shoes and stockings on if you can, please, ladies." Everyone hastily complied, giving each other heated strokes and kisses all the while. The two girls were even more striking, if possible, almost naked and showing off the shoes that Lex loved, with fantastic tattoos decorating much of their bodies. Clark noticed that each girl's labia and clit hoods were heavily pierced, confirming the source of the tinkling sounds. Clark enjoyed watching them, especially now that they lavished attention on each other's naked breasts, every nipple pierced with either a barbell or a ring. Clark always had liked boobs.

Lex, as always at his ease naked, even with his cock filled out and bobbing in front of him, pulled out a towel-wrapped object and carefully lifted the towel to show them what he had. At first, Clark didn't understand what he was looking at, but it was obvious the women did. Squealing, one of them (was it Sugar or Spice? Clark realized he didn't know which was which, and didn't care) lifted the object off the towel and began caressing her partner with it. Clark finally saw that it appeared to be a double-headed dildo made of glass. Clark reached over to touch it in wonder.

"You can make dildoes out of glass?" he blurted, surprised.

"Oh yes, tempered glass is a wonderful material for sex toys," said one of the women.

"Yeah, you can sterilize them and ice them or warm them for different sensations," said the other.

Clark looked at the smug face of his boyfriend, and resolved to get the action moving. He really didn't want them to talk. Other noises were preferable. Lex took the clue, and directed the women into the position that he wanted. Lex carefully pulled out condoms for him and Clark and put them on, lubing them and the dildo "Not much lube is needed, because the glass isn't porous." Clark groaned, bouncing a little on the bed. More action! Less talk!

Inserting one end of the dildo into the pussy of the first woman (Sugar?); then having her lay on her side facing the other as she, too guided the toy into her body, Lex soon had them all on the bed arranged in a sexy sandwich, with Lex and Clark spooned behind the women as they fucked each other with the dildo. The men gazed into each others' eyes from their positions behind the women; even as their hands were busy fondling girly curves, breasts, and clits. Clark began to pant. And talk.

"Oh, Lex, this is so wild. Hey, girls, are you okay, is this hot?" The women merely nodded their heads vigorously, getting into each other, and squirmed their bare bottoms against the erections rubbing up against them. "Ooh, yeah, that's it, come on, look Lex, they're fucking each other, yeah," Clark panted. "That's so hot. Look, you can see us in the mirror," and he studied the reflection of the writhing, panting bodies in the mirror at the foot of the bed.

Pretty soon the girls' gasps came louder and louder, and first one, then the other came in rapid succession. Lex reached down and carefully removed the dildo, soothing them, "There now, that's my good girls, now it's our turn," and looking straight at Clark, ordered him harshly, "Fuck her. Fuck her now. Put your cock in her pussy and fuck her." And with a practiced move, he inserted his cock into the body in front of him, and started to fuck the women in long smooth strokes, all the while looking straight into Clark's eyes.

Clark rolled his head and his eyes like a maddened bull, and began to fuck his girl's very wet pussy strongly. "Oh, oh, yeah, fucking her, but I'm fucking you, my love, oh god, fucking hot," he babbled. The girls were banged against each other with their strokes, but they didn't appear to mind. They were kissing passionately and moaning into each others' mouths.

Clark reached for and grabbed Lex's hands, needing the connection with his beloved. Just as the noise level and activity reached a crescendo, Clark looked over at the mirror again, to get a glimpse of themselves fucking. What he saw there shocked him into orgasm suddenly, and he came, shuddering and shrieking, "Lex!"

For reflected in the mirror, standing in the dark open door on the other side of their suite, watching them intently, was Bruce.

"I'm telling you, Lex, he's getting on my nerves." The following night, Clark was grumpy and jumpy and horny. He had endured another interminable fancy dinner with Lex, this time poured into a tuxedo and seated with a group of people he didn't know at the gala. All that day, everywhere he turned, it seemed like Bruce was watching them, and it was driving him crazy. He couldn't seem to get Lex's whispered tales of boarding school lewdness out of his head, and the lingering sensuality of the mnage a quatre of the previous night kept him on edge.

"What's the matter, Clark? I thought you said you wanted to play with him." Clark looked sharply at Lex, who wore that cat-got-the cream look. Still. Lex was having way too much fun showing him off tonight. He had been plastered to Clark's side all night, patently possessive, and blatantly touching him.

Clark sighed. "Can we go back to the manor? We've done our duty here, haven't we? We've mingled, made our point, well, your point, whatever it is, about the shoes, and we can go back, can't we baby?" Clark heard himself whining, but he didn't care. He wanted Lex again, preferably deep in his ass, and was tired of waiting; tired of playing games.

"Of course, Clark. Just let me tell Bruce we're leaving."

"No, wait -" but Lex wasn't listening, moving off in the crowd toward where Bruce had been silently watching them.

Coming back a moment later, Lex said, "Come on, let's go get the car."

Unfortunately, when the car pulled up to the portico in front of the hotel, it turned out to be already occupied. By Bruce. He and Lex settled in the seat across from Bruce, and Lex immediately engaged the older millionaire in conversation about the people and events at the gala. Bored and frustrated, Clark looked out the window, trying not to watch Bruce watching them, even as the chit chat became more banal. All of a sudden, in the middle of a sentence, Lex turned and straddled Clark, lowering his head to nuzzle his neck, and undulating his ass against Clark's crotch. Acting like nothing was happening, he continued to chat with Bruce about nothing at all. Clark gasped, and involuntarily rocked his hips, watching Bruce's eyes as he surveyed them with open lust. At this rate, he wasn't going to make it to the manor.

But he did, as eventually the car turned into the gates surrounding Wayne Manor. Lex nonchalantly climbed off Clark's lap and called out to Bruce, "Thanks Bruce. Great party, good night."

This time, it was Clark who was leading Lex through the darkened hallways and corridors of the great house. He wanted Lex naked, horizontal, and on a bed! He began to pull off his bowtie and undo the complicated studs of his tuxedo. When they reached "their" rooms, however, and Clark pulled Lex into the bedroom, he stumbled to a stop. There seemed to be an awful lot of - something - spread out on their bed. "Lex, what's all this?" said Clark nervously, eyeing the assortment of chains and straps on the bed.

Lex sidled up to him, reaching for his hand, and bringing them up to his mouth to kiss them, eyes catching the dim light. "Just a little game, my love. Please?" He dropped Clark's hands and began to undress. "You look so hot tonight, and I'm so hot for you. Won't you indulge me a little?" Lex was a master at saying one thing and meaning another, and although his tone was pleading, his body language was demanding. Panting and flushed now, as he stepped out of his trousers, Lex rubbed his chest against Clark. "I'm only going to tie your hands. I know you could get out of them if you want, but it's symbolic, okay?"

Clark looked at the bed again, and felt sweat pop out on his forehead. Lex could do anything to him, but probably wouldn't. He started to take off his own clothes.

"Do you have a safe word?"

Clark numbly shook his head. "It's not as if I could play these types of games with anyone else, Lex. There's no one else I would feel safe around, and you can't hurt me anyway."

"Color code then," Lex asserted. "I could hurt you in other ways, and I want you to have the code. Green means go, Red means stop, all right? I'm not going to gag you, because I want to hear you."

"All right. What do you want me to do?"

Lex directed Clark to lay down on the bed, on his back with his hands above his head. Lex fastened leather cuffs around Clark's wrists and linked the cuffs together. Even though they both knew exactly how useless the contraption was, given Clark's strength, still both men were turned on by the idea it represented.

Lex paused a moment at the foot of the bed, staring at Clark in appreciation. For his part, Clark was becoming unbearably aroused, feeling his lover's eyes upon him like a brand. Clark stuck out his tongue, tasting the lust on the air. Was Lex going to beat him? Fuck him? Oh, he hoped Lex would fuck him. Soon, please, please, he thought, unaware that he had begun to babble as he slowly arched himself against the sheets, displaying his body and his cock as it bobbed, leaking, in the air.

"Turn over," Lex ordered, and Clark eagerly complied, trying to hump his engorged cock against the bed. "Stop that." The command was followed by a sharp swat to his backside. Clark jerked at the unexpected sensation of it. Even though it didn't hurt, exactly, he still felt it. He craned his neck behind him and glimpsed a wicked looking studded leather paddle before it came down on his bottom once again. And again. In his heightened state of arousal and sensitivity, he was definitely feeling the paddle. Lex began to speak in a low, impassioned undertone. "You've been a bad boy, my love. You've been thinking about Bruce, showing off your body to him, enjoying the way he watches you."

"No! No, Lex, it's not him, it's only you, please, Lex."

"Please, what? Please let Bruce watch us? I know you like to be watched, baby, don't lie to me. And he is a good looking man, after all. I should know. You love to be watched. It turns you on, doesn't it? Doesn't it?"

Clark didn't know what to say, what to do. He was so far beyond coherence, only feeling the sting of the paddle, the sting of Lex's words, and the sting of his own frustration. And it was all true, anyway. Abruptly, the paddling ceased. Clark lay there, panting, twisting slightly.

"Turn back over, love, and see what you desire."

As Clark turned over on his back again, awkwardly, with his hands still tied over his head, he saw Lex standing at the foot of the bed, chest heaving. And behind him, in the darkness, Clark could clearly see Bruce, sitting in a chair. He was wearing a dark robe, which was open to show his muscled and very aroused body. He held a thick strap of leather in his hand, and was using it to caress his own body, brushing it back and forth across his nipples, swirling it around his large, purple, erect cock standing straight away from his groin.

"I invited him to watch. It's his home, after all, and he does so like to watch. Just like you like to be watched, isn't that so, my sweet caro?" Lex continued to speak as he reached over and brought out the lube, flipping it open one handed. "Isn't my Clark magnificent, Bruce? Every muscle large and defined, yet so exquisitely responsive. From his shoulders to his toes. Bruce appreciates the male form, don't you, Bruce?" Lex tossed out over his shoulder as he encouraged Clark to scoot down a bit farther on the bed. He began to lovingly caress Clark's feet as he continued. He leaned down, as if imparting a secret, and said, "He used to hide in the closets at school and watch the boys jack off. He appreciates the girls, too. Bruce used to snoop around in the bushes at the school dances, hoping to catch couples making out. He'd hide in the closet and watch me fuck a girl, then come out when she'd gone and fuck me himself."

Clark moaned at this, never taking his eyes off Bruce who was just sitting there in the dark corner. "Lex, what are you doing to me, oh god, oh god, Bruce, what are you going to do?" He tossed his head wildly back and forth as he felt Lex push his feet together and begin to slide his hot dick between them. Feeling helpless and excited with his hands still bound above his head, he continued babbling, " Ah, ah, please, Lex, please fuck me, won't you fuck me? Are you going to - are you going to fuck me, too, Bruce? Are you going to take that strap and hit me with it?" He broke off as Lex's thrusts against his feet became harder and Bruce suddenly clenched the leather strap hard against the base of his cock.

Bruce spoke for the first time. "You could gag him," he suggested.

"No, no," Lex laughed, slowing down a bit. "He always does that. I like it. I like him."

"So I gathered." Spoken dryly. Then, gratingly, "I want to see you fuck him."

Lex gasped at this, and pulled at Clark's hands until they were in front of him, still bound, and Clark's bottom was even with the foot of the bed. Scrabbling wildly for the lube, Lex squirted some haphazardly on his cock and pushed Clark's legs open, exposing his hole.

Clark began a litany, "Fuck me, please, fuck me, Lex, come on, fuck me good, ram your meat in there, fuck me for Bruce, fuck me in front of him." Impatiently, he began to bounce a little on the bed, as Lex stepped in between his legs, stopping only when he felt Lex's cock breach him.

"Oooh," Clark exhaled, in ecstasy. "I love you, Lex, oh god, you have the finest cock on this planet. I love it when you fuck me, come on, do it, do it. Jack me, please, please," Clark wailed, helpless with his hands tied. And Lex did, pushing him down on the bed and fiercely kissing him, shoving his dick rapidly in and out, in and out, and grabbing Clark's leaking, needy cock.

Clark had forgotten about Bruce for a moment, until he felt the bed dip behind him. Snapping his eyes open, he looked into the mirror and saw Lex's back and ass as he pounded into him. Above them, completely naked, was Bruce, mouth open and panting harshly with lust. One hand was braced against the bed, and the other gripped his cock cruelly, frantically stroking it with the strip of leather held tightly in his fist. His eyes were fixed on the place where Lex and Clark were joined. Bruce's face was flushed, his eyes glittered and he was grunting softly, ecstatically, in time with his strokes.

For an endless moment, Clark and Bruce locked eyes in the mirror, and then Clark tilted his head back. "Yeah, that's it, fuck your fist, Bruce, that's so hot, come on, come on me, come on my face!"

With a loud grunt, Bruce did exactly that, aiming the shiny head of his cock at Clark's face and unloading spurt after spurt of come all over him. Clark opened his mouth to try to catch some of that bounty as he felt his balls draw up and his own cock cover Lex's hand with cream. Faced with the cum shots of the two beautiful men in front of him, Lex could hold out no longer, and begin to thrust his hips fast and hard into Clark's ass, coming and coming until he collapsed over his lover.

For long moments, there was only the sound of three men panting. Then Bruce shifted, climbing off the bed and heading toward his robe. Shrugging into it, he approached the bed again. Lex came to his senses and, still joined to Clark, unsnapped the restraints on Clark's hands. Bruce stepped up quietly behind them, and gazed at Clark's face. Smiling a little smile, he carefully leaned over and began to lick his come off. When it was all gone, he pressed a soft kiss against Clark's lips, and slid his arm around his shoulders. Clark had never seen that particular peaceful expression on Bruce's face before. Bruce murmured, "You're always welcome in my house, my brother." Giving Lex a quick hug and a kiss, he said to him, "Thank you, Lex. He is magnificent and you are amazing together. Be happy." Bruce turned and silently slipped out of the bedroom with a swirl of dark robe, echoing another, darker garment.

For the rest of the night, the mirror reflected only the sight of two men in love. If there had been anyone to see.