It was hard not to stare. It's not that the jeans were improperly tight. After all Clark was just a corn fed, all American boy. Not the kind of guy who would wear anything intentionally suggestive. The fact that he was unaware of his sex appeal was even more of a turn on than if he were in a muscle shirt.
But the way, those thick calves, and upper thighs strained at the seams, the way that solid round ass moved and rubbed against the constricting fabric worn light at the apex of the curve as it walked down the hallway was hypnotizing. Lex knew he should avert his gaze before his riveted trance would betray his malicious longing ..longing..ooh but just a few more moments..." Mr. Luthor,..MR LUTHOR!..Mr. Luthor, um ..sorry, would you sign these invoices for me?" His receptionist was looking at him uncomfortably, or was that simply his paranoia? Did she suspect? She was only a minion. What did he care? He signed and she floated out of sight. Lex turned his gaze back to Clark who had bent to reach a file from a lower drawer. The ass in a fuller more inviting position "Soon, my golden boy...soon that denim will not protect that from me."
Clark was working for Lex to earn money for the year off between high School and college. His family, as always was struggling, and with sickening predictability Clark was doing the right thing, instead of taking off to seek fame and fortune. Lex had watched this boy scout excel at everything he turned his hand to, while Lex who enjoyed every advantage had never received praise for all the work he had done to keep his father's empire growing.
It was even worse working with him closely. When looking into those blue eyes, it was hard to conduct a casual, workplace conversation. If Clark had any idea what he wanted to do to him, he'd be a dead man.
But now he knew that Clark enjoyed one great and secret advantage. No wonder he was always the strongest the fastest the best. And he knew that Clark also had a weakness, just as secret.
He had watched, from within his unnaturally pasty self this small town hero grow...no ripen.. into an irresistible, and maddeningly modest stud, out of school and managing his own life he now moved with a more assured manly poise. He had watched and nurtured a friendship, and waited, and now it was time to reap this juicy harvest.
"Clark I need to talk to you." The budding super-hero returns, so hard to look into those melting blue eyes and still speak coherently. "Clark, we had an intruder last night. Some of Luthor Industry's most sensitive material has been stolen. We've traced it to a cave outside of town."
"Have you called the police?"
"Clark" he places a confidential hand on the broad shoulder, the steely delts turning his knees to water. "As a matter of national security, the existence of this equipment has to be kept completely confidential. We can't have this! We're playing in the big leagues now, my friend. I'm going out tonight to see what I can salvage."
The dark eyebrows furrow with suspicion. "Why me?"
"Come on Clark, we've known each other too long to play this game. You're the only one I can trust, and we both know that you have displayed certain unusual abilities. I don't want to put you in harm's way but this is important. You're my only real friend and I need you"
Of course he would agree, that's what hero's do....and that's how you snare them.
Next page