The Doll's House
headers and warnings

I want a pretty boy to beg me to fuck him. That's the impetus for tonight's little venture back into the sordid depths of the Metropolis club scene. I dig through my closet, finding the trunk buried deep where my father's servants probably hoped I'd never find it and drag -- isn't that just the perfect word -- the heavy thing out into the center of my bedroom floor.

The key is still where I'd hidden it, in the false bottom of my least favorite cufflink box, and a few moments later I'm seeing Adina in all her glory, so to speak. Bad blonde wig that just screams "drag queen", gaudy clothes and bright, clashing makeup. Wide flowered chokers and pink and orange scarves and everything I'd thought I needed to be once.

I sort through the pile, finding a few salvageable items here and there. The wig, with judicious use of scissors and hairspray, becomes an adorable short bob that frames my face with honey. A little dye and I've got blue streaks that make my eyes seem feral and icy. A forgotten box from some high-class internet store and I've got makeup more suited to my complexion, cool blacks and greys for the eyes, sparkling soft glitter on my pale cheeks, colorless powder and bloody dark lipstick making me seem like a corpse.

But a fuckable corpse. After all, it's a bit of homoerotic necrophilia that I'm looking for, resurrecting a dead personality just so I can use her to lure a pretty boy into some cheap hotel room for a therapeutic fuck. I find the red plaid skirt that says "schoolgirl gone wrong," and Adina's very favorite red satin panties. Those will be perfect, and I pull on some opaque black thigh-highs to accent them.

Butch boots buckle up my calves, heels making me taller than everyone but Patty and helping along that whole genderfucked image. High quality fake breasts are next, hidden under a sexy red bra, satin and lace darker than the panties and lighter than my lips. Underneath those big scary boots I've painted my toenails a corresponding pink, and my fingernails match the panties almost exactly. I may not have known colors then, but I've got some taste now.

A slender black leather collar rounds my throat, hiding my Adam's apple and making my neck seem endless and slender and oh so bitable. Maybe Adina thought she wasn't pretty back then, but she's learning better now. One of my fine white linen dress shirts gets tied around my waist, baring my belly button and inviting inappropriate touches. Adina's almost ready, almost perfect. A pair of dangling earrings, some jangling silver bracelets and a wash of glitter across my exposed skin makes it look just right.

I've got "fuck me" written all over me and a deliciously androgynous cologne adds to that aura. I know I'll get disapproving looks on the way out, and tomorrow I'll get a packet from my father full of compromising photos and disdain. But for now, it's just what I need, and I step out into the hallway jangling the keys to Adina's expensively classic cherry-red 1967 Mustang Shelby GT500. Loud and butch and just right for a woman who's finally come to terms with the size of her ass.

Adina's panties are tight around my half-hard cock, and I'm both dreading and secretly looking forward to an hour and a half of highway driving with my panties quite literally in a twist. It's uncomfortable as all fuck, yeah, but there's something about that feeling of satin riding up into the crack of my ass, chafing the sensitive secrets found there and wrapping around my cock and balls like an impossibly soft hand... yeah, there's just something about that feeling that makes me wonder if maybe tonight's the night.

After all, even better than having a pretty boy beg me to fuck him might actually be letting that pretty boy fuck my sweet nearly-virgin hole. No one since Jimmy, and even if it is his fault that Adina's stayed locked in a trunk this whole time, maybe he did me a sort of favor. No virginity left to lose, just inhibitions and I've long since proven that enough alcohol or the right cocktail of drugs will serve to get rid of those just fine.

My hand keeps wanting to stray under my skirt, but I'm resisting. Only the hard edge of unrelieved desire will be enough to make me willing to open myself, and now that I've started my brain down that route I'm convinced that this is really why I've brought Adina back out to play. Because no matter how much my father lectures about weakness, sometimes there's strength that can only be found in vulnerability.

I'm completely hard now, and my hips are making little rhythmic motions that just emphasize the constant vibration from the car. I am now more aware of my ass than I have been since that fateful morning after, only this time it's tingling with a kind of lust I usually reserve for certain beautiful hero who pulled me out of a river. Those red satin panties are gathered in my cleft, rubbing and sensitizing my hole until it's practically begging to be filled.

And yeah, that's all kinds of new but maybe, just maybe, this is something I need to do. Because if I'm ever going to make it with my farmboy I'm going to have to do a few more things for him than dozens of unheard "as you wish"es. My skin is tingling and I'm remembering how it feels to fuck, and suck; the weight of a cock on my tongue and the heat of a schoolboy's ass. Pre-come is making my panties damp and I'm starting to worry that I'll come without ever touching myself when I see my exit up ahead.

I spare a moment of guilt for my poor Adina, having spent the last few years locked up in the back of my head, wanting to know what it feels like to be taken and not just wake up with a sore ass and a hole in her memory. My memory. Possibly this thinking of myself in the third person is a little strange, but the way I've been raised to view women I could never quite believe that I had any of those things inside of me.

Jesus, I'm so fucked up. We're so fucked up, me and this woman who lives trapped in my head, thinking of herself as a dog who lost her virginity to some date rapist. And now I'm getting maudlin, losing my edge and if I do that she'll never get laid and neither will I, because Smallville hasn't exactly been good for my track record either. I park the car, adjust myself and grab Adina's frightfully fashionable clutch purse. It's showtime.

The bouncer's eyes slide right by my definitively male ID, because I fit right in here at the Doll's House, a haven for Metropolis' genderqueer population. There's men here who will profess they don't know that all those lovely girls are really boys; butch boys who started life as butch girls; pretty little boys playing at being real girls; and a whole host of in-betweens like myself who aren't pretending anything. There are even a few real women dancing around, although most of those are of the "fag hag" genre and none of them interest me. Adina and I are trolling for cock and from the looks I'm getting, everyone knows it.

I make a brief stop at the bar to buy us both a drink, a triple shot of scotch for me and a Midori sour for Adina to sip delicately afterwards. It's hard to be coy with a shot glass in your hand, but I need a little more than just determination if I'm going to let her go through with this. Because no matter how much I want Adina to be happy, it's my body, my ass that she's going to be doing it with.

And how is that for a fucked up image? Adina opening me up so some beautiful boy can fuck her. I'm getting hard again at the thought, wanting a mirror now so I can watch as her perfectly red nails spread my white cheeks wide. If they do. If I even find someone that's interesting enough to open up for, because it's not looking that promising yet; the Doll's House may be a prestigious club, but it's mostly got an older, more elegant clientele than the one in my head.

I decide to just mingle for awhile, finishing off Adina's girly drink -- well, it's mine, actually, because this is me we're talking about here after all -- and sashay my way through to the dance floor. I learned a long time ago that dancing is mostly in the hips, or at least it is if you're using it as a way to get laid, and the heavy techno beat that's playing is perfect. I stretch my arms over my head, crossing my wrists as though they're bound and arch my back in supplication, thrusting my hips in time to the music.

It doesn't take long for me to start getting the attention I crave, bodies moving close in the strobing darkness, stealing little groping touches at my belly, thighs and ass. Someone comes up behind me and fits their hips to mine, hands hovering at my waist as we thrust. I turn in the circle of arms, wanting to see what it is that I've caught with my carefully chosen net of clothing and makeup.

I find myself smiling as I take in the image before me. Dark hair, tacky blue eyeshadow that somehow works with her bright red lipstick that, yes, does in fact almost match my nail polish. I run gentle fingers down the side of her face, over her throat with its prominent Adam's apple, and feel the soft tingles of desire spark into full-blown flames. My thighs are on fire, and I am aware of my ass in a way I have never been before.

She's dressed like a drag queen, all bright shiny jewelry and strong shoulders under her sequined blue gown, and I grind my erection into hers to make sure we're clear on everything. Some of the men come looking for the fag hags, after all, and although one hopes that they'd be smart enough to realize that a woman over six feet tall is likely to come with extra equipment, it's good to make sure before things get intimate. Such men are often fooling themselves, and react badly when their illusions are broken prematurely.

So much of this is about illusion, after all. Mine, theirs. Adina is an illusion, I know that; she's a part of myself I'm just not ready to be without all the trappings. Her favorite panties are stretched tight over my cock, and my self-confidence is all that's holding her together right now, on the verge of finally realizing her womanhood. Or something; I lose the thought completely because really, it's just too hard to stay philosophical when I've got pretty lipsticked lips wrapped around my matching fingers.

God, the wet heat is bringing back my original desire pretty fucking hard, and Adina's voice in the back of my head is barely enough to make me remember why I'm here. Maybe we can have it both ways, because I'm not nearly so drunk I couldn't do this gorgeous creature twice. I pull my slick fingers from her mouth and bring mine in for a kiss; we're nearly the same height and it's just rarely this easy. The sequins are rough like scales against my hand as I cup her firm, tight ass.

Just as we break apart I hear a voice in my ear that I'm pretty sure isn't hers, mine or even Adina's, "Now if this isn't a lovely sight, I don't know what is."

I don't bother to turn my head, just grind back into the person behind me. He's a little shorter, and hard, and I think he might even be dressed like a real boy so I turn around to see what else Adina's managed to catch. I spin languidly in the circle of their arms, until I've got hot breath on the back of my neck and a very sexy man in front of me.

He's about my height when I'm not wearing platforms, and despite a huge patrician nose he's startlingly handsome. High cheekbones and short spiky dark hair, green eyes and strong, soft lips that are drawing me in like a magnet. He's got on a black silk shirt, or at least he thought about putting it on but really it's just hanging open to reveal his thin, pale chest and a stomach I really want to run my tongue over. Black jeans fit closely on long, slender legs and one of them slides between my own to grind up into my cock.

I bend my knees and let him grind away, arching my back and putting my arms around her neck as she grinds into my ass. And yeah, it might be nice to get names soon so I pull her head forward so I can lick her ear and whisper "Adina."

She's a smart girl and when I tilt my head back forward I hear her husky voice in my ear saying, "Brandy. He's Adam."

Brandy. One of my favorite things to savor and sip, and I take that as a very good sign as I lean in and capture our boy's mouth in mine. Adina couldn't hope for a better omen than 'Adam,' the first man, and she's rubbing herself shamelessly on his leg as we kiss. I assume they're together since she knows his name, and so I kiss my way to his ear and whisper, "Where do we go from here?" just as the song is coming to an end.

He doesn't reply, just grabs the front of my shirt and leads me through the crowd to a table, Brandy trailing along behind. He's got a long duster draped over his chair, and she's got an adorably tacky black coat with blue maribou trim that matches her gown. At least I assume that's the way they match up because I really can't see Adam in the maribou, but you never know. There's also a beer and another of those girly drinks sitting on the table, and when they sit, my theories are confirmed.

Adam sprawls lazily in his chair with a grace that says he owns the world, or at least the little piece of it he's occupying. I recognize it easily, as it's one of my own standard moves and I can feel it tweak my libido the way I always hope it does Clark's. I take the seat between them, deliberately flashing some red satin at him as I sit. I turn to Brandy, smiling, and ask, "Interested in taking this somewhere more... private?"

Adina's a little shocked at my forwardness, but Adam is making me want to get things underway very soon. His legs are spread just enough that I can see the outline of his cock in his jeans, and I want to get out of here before I end up on my knees under the table. Because, yeah, that's right where this is heading, and Adina's still dying to see what Brandy's got under that sequined sensation.

Adam smiles a slow, lazy smile and Brandy answers it with a little private grin of her own before replying, "Of course, lovely. There's rooms upstairs, or we can go to Adam's place, if you like."

Adam's back stiffens a little when she says that, and there's an evil glint in her eye as she smiles sweetly at him. I can't decide at first if I want to play along with Brandy or take mercy on Adam, but Adina deserves better than one of the fuck rooms in a club. I smile back at Brandy and then turn to Adam, saying, "I'd love to see your place, Adam, if that's ok...?"

This gives him an out, and me another option; after all, there are other cocks in the club and I'm sure more than one of them wants to be Adina's first. My first. And I'm making a tent out of my pretty plaid pleats, one that's drawing more eyes than just Adam and Brandy's. Our little side table is starting to get a lot of surreptitious glances, and I guess between the three of us and the vibe we've got going I can't blame them.

All the attention is making Adina preen. Even if nothing else goes according to plan, at least I've finally convinced her that she's beautiful. Which, truthfully, is one thing I've always had trouble with myself; too many years of being called a freak coupled with endless rounds of parental disapproval. Adina's few short weeks of verbal abuse were just the icing on the cake of my childhood horrors.

This is not the time for mood swings, but one look at the naked desire on Brandy's face puts everything back in perspective. I'm here to get fucked, and I think she's quite ready to oblige me. I look back over at Adam, glancing not-so-subtly down at his cock and letting my eyes roam over the pale planes of his naked torso before meeting his gaze. Evidently whatever he saw in my face was enough to decide him, because he chugs the last of his beer and stands up, grabbing his coat. He holds out a hand to me in an oddly gentlemanly manner and says, "Coming?"

I lay my hand in his, ever the lady, and stand. He gives me his arm and I take it, Brandy coming up to rest her hand on my hip as we walk out. I lean over to Adam, grinning suggestively and whisper, "Not yet, but I'm hoping you'll fix that soon."

Adam laughs, surprised, and Brandy gives me a questioning look. I just smile demurely and lean over to her, my painted lips close to her ear as I whisper, "You've got lovely taste in boys, my dear."

I follow it up with a nip of my teeth and then we're outside in the cold, dividing up into cars and heading off into the night. Brandy comes with me, two lovely drag queens in a boy's car riding through the night. Adam peels off as we're getting settled and she giggles demurely, saying, "Boys can be so impatient!"

I grin, because we both know that we're not only both really boys, but really impatient ourselves. Still, I make a show of leaving in a more sedate and dignified manner, if only so that I won't beat Adam home. He mumbled something when we were dividing up about wanting to clean, and I suspect that his bat out of Hell routine was a symptom of a man with dirty laundry on his bedroom floor. I don't mind, because it leaves me alone with Brandy for some girl talk that I think probably needs to happen.

My hands tighten on the steering wheel as I get ready to open up to this stranger, in mind as well as hopefully body in the near future. She sees my stiffness, senses that there's something going on with me and lays a gentle hand on my arm. I take in a harsh breath; fuck, this is harder than I thought. I'd thought my time with Clark was getting me used to all this honesty crap but evidently the river of deception runs deep in us Luthors.

As it's now time to completely forget I'm a Luthor and try to put aside that I'm even a man, I guess starting with confessions is probably for the best. I can't seem to look at her, but her hand stays so I guess she understands. One more deep breath and I'm trying, Jesus I'm trying to get the words out but my throat's tight and my head is swimming and I'm just so fucking relieved when she says, "First time?"

I try that deep breath thing again, thinking third time's the charm and what do you know, it works, and I say, "Sort of."

A painful half-shrug jerks up one of my shoulders, pulling my arm out of her grasp. I needed to shift anyway, so it's not like it's a huge tragedy, but she seems a little confused. "Sort of?"

"I believe it will be my second time, but I was unconscious for the first one so I don't really think it counts." My reply is clipped, short, painful. Just like I suspect my first time was; there wasn't a lot of soreness, but enough to let me know that the stain on the outside of my skirt wasn't the only one I'd picked up. At least years of clean blood tests showed that a ruined skirt and a lost evening were Jimmy's only "gifts."

Christ, I just want to get this over with and move on to the extremely pleasurable part of the evening. All this up-and-down angst is giving me a case of blue balls, and it's on the verge of giving Adina cold feet. Then Brandy runs her short red nails up the inside of my arm and suddenly all of that other crap just doesn't matter. Not when I've got the world's biggest vibrator under me, red satin panties riding their way back up where only one man had gone before and a beautiful drag queen by my side.

And let's not forget the lovely and hopefully talented Adam waiting for us back at his apartment. Everything I've seen of him so far just makes me want more. Brandy smiles as I relax back into my seat, evidently figuring -- quite correctly -- that there could be no better response to my declaration than to show me a really good time. Her smile grows predatory as her hand wanders down from my arm to my knee.

Her fingers are cool against my leg, teasing deftly at the top of my thigh-high. Adina feels a sickeningly familiar clench of apprehension as they drift higher, nearer to the things that show she's definitely a he. But of course Brandy knows, and is sensitive to what's going on here, and she keeps her caresses just shy of my balls, tantalizing but not spoiling the main event.

A few more directions and we're pulling up to a very nice townhouse. I'm starting to wonder just what Adam does and hope whatever it is there's no major ties with Luthorcorp. Because that would just, well, suck. And not in the very good way I'm hoping to experience soon, because I've been hard for most of the ride and I really think that this time there's no looking back. We get out of the car and walk up the drive to find Adam lounging in the doorway with his shirt off and nipples stating their objection to the cold.

Adina's purring in the back of my head, melting into me and my desire for them both. She suggests and I follow through, my hot mouth descending to lick a swipe up his chest. He gasps, Brandy laughs and we all sort of fall through the door and into the blessedly warm interior. I follow the best ass I've seen in weeks up a flight of stairs and into a sparse but tastefully decorated bedroom, only to appreciate the sight even more as he skims out of his jeans, revealing that he's gone commando.

I note in the back of my head that his apartment seems to be filled with antiques of impeccable taste and incredible quality, but the majority of my brain is busy cataloging Adam's physical virtues. His skin is pale, stretched taut over a wiry, compact frame. He turns and I see his nipples are a dusky rose in the light, and still crying out for my attention. His cock has a hint of the same rich color, the head shiny with pre-come and bobbing hypnotically.

I'm tempted to give up my fantasy of seeing him beg just so I can suck him, but before my legs can follow my brain, Brandy reminds me of why I'm really here. She's evidently knelt down behind me while I was otherwise occupied and has pushed her head up under my skirt. Her teeth sink gently into my left cheek, and I jump a little, yelping. Adam laughs and kneels in front of me and suddenly I feel very spoiled.

Brandy continues to nibble and bite, teasing around the tops of my thigh-highs, and between them they manage to get my panties off. His head is also under my skirt and I'm very very glad I decided to go with this impulse as I feel talented tongues working their magic on me. Adam licks my balls, laughing as my cock paints wet stripes on his forehead and hair; Brandy spreads me wide, fake nails sinking into my flesh, and starts working me open with her tongue.

I have a sudden mental image of my opening covered in lipstick, but Adam banishes it when he deep-throats my cock. I'm going to be coming before we even get going at this rate, and Adina's starting to make panicked safe-sex noises in the back of my head, so I pull him off after a few hot strokes and say, "Why don't we move this to the bed?"

Kinkily enough, neither of them seem interested in removing any more of my clothing. Instead Adam starts going around lighting candles, and we end up with the room glowing, the overhead light turned off, and him laid out in the middle of the bed. Brandy has stripped off her dress and shoes, and is left in matching black lace stockings and garters, bra and crotchless panties. Her cock rises up out of a nest of dark curls, and she's stalking towards me with serious intent.

I'm sitting on the edge of the bed, knees together and cock tenting my skirt like some sort of perverse nervous schoolgirl, which is of course the image I was going for. I lean back on my hands and spread my legs for her as she comes towards me, then scramble up and away when she gets there. I end up on all fours over Adam, which is just where I wanted to be, with Brandy behind me and all my goodies on display for her. Adam stretches his arms above his head and grabs onto the headboard, offering himself to me.

I hear the unmistakable sound of lube being opened as I lean in to capture Adam's lips for a kiss. Adina sighs in contentment, moaning softly into Adam's mouth as she feels a gentle finger teasing at her opening. I move down to nibble at Adam's neck and collarbones, and Brandy slides a finger gently in. I whimper and sink my teeth into his shoulder as she adds a second finger, and Adam arches and moans under me. Encouraged, I bite one of Adam's nipples and thrust back onto Brandy's fingers.

Adam cries out and thrusts his hips upwards, his cock colliding briefly and unsatisfactorily with mine. I move down and back, which shoves my ass into Brandy's face and allows me to spread Adam's legs and kneel between them. I grin evilly up at him and he looks back with undisguised lust as I begin to cover his thighs and hipbones with punishing bites and nips. He struggles and twitches, but never lets go of the headboard, and his moans are music to my ears.

Brandy's got two fingers pumping in and out of me now, and Adina's delighted sighs fill my ears. I'm feeling these sparks of pleasure light her up as places inside me are stroked, the tight muscles coaxed open. Brandy's hands are slender and agile, and I'm having trouble imagining her not insubstantial cock fitting inside, but Adina's still there in the back of my head, urging her on, offering me up, and who am I to refuse a lady? Adam's got teeth marks and love bites all over his body by the time Brandy slides a third finger into my ass, and I'm gratified to hear him pleading for me to suck him.

The distraction of having Adam beneath me is just what I needed while Brandy systematically reduces Adina to a puddle of warm goo in the back of my head. I briefly wish there was some way we could exchange personal info after all this, but regrettably I can't take that risk. Otherwise, I'd send Brandy something from Tiffany's that would really dress up her look. Adam's going to get everything he needs tonight, I think, as I stick my ass into the air and spread his legs wide, pushing them up over my shoulders and lowering my mouth.

He moans like a dying thing, his cock pulsing out pre-come as I leave a large and painful bite at the juncture of his hip and thigh, and then another lower one on the other side where thigh meets ass. I'm just getting to the real target when Brandy decides I'm ready for her, and I feel hollow at the loss of her fingers but manage to cushion the loss with my tongue swiping over Adam's hole. "Move all the way to the foot of the bed, will you, love?" she says, tugging my hips as she stands.

Adina's encouraging me as I move back and spread wide, pulling Adam down with me so I can continue to rim him. He gladly slides with me, thoughtfully holding his knees so I can concentrate on pleasuring him. Brandy tosses the lube down next to me on the bed in silent invitation, followed by a condom, and soon I feel her cock demanding entrance. She's relaxed me enough that I open easily, and the feeling is nothing like I expected; the pleasure as she slides into me is intense and relentless, and there's no pain at all.

I feel full, filled and fulfilled, and I no longer have any doubts as to why women put up with men if this is what they get. I'm being taken and claimed, yes, like all the cheesy cliches, but only because I've allowed her inside of me, Brandy in my body the way Adina is in my mind, becoming a part of me, yet still separate. Brandy's just staying still, letting me get used to the sensation much like the last few years of life with Adina; first the big push to get us together, then a period of acclimatization. I don't know whether to dread or anticipate the rest of the metaphor, so I put those thoughts aside for later.

Right now, my tongue is working its way deep into Adam, and this beautiful boy suppliant beneath me is finally begging me to fuck him. Brandy's balls are resting against mine, the fur tickling my hairless sac; enough boys shave these days that I'm hoping she'll assume it's a fetish, not a flaw. I grab the lube and try to concentrate on preparing Adam, but he seems beyond ready. Brandy makes a little impatient thrust with her hips and Adam surprises me by rolling on the condom for me and then spreading himself invitingly wide.

He's practically speared himself on my cock, and Brandy helps out by pulling out and then thrusting forward hard. It's awkward for a moment, but then Adam shifts his hips and I'm sliding into the hot, tight embrace of his body and everything just clicks. My knees are spread wider than I thought physically possible, but when I let go and just let the motions happen around me, I quickly lose all sense of discomfort or really anything else but the sensations of fucking and being fucked.

Adina and I have drifted into total agreement and now are just riding the moment, hoping we don't come too soon. My nipples are tingling, my teeth have latched onto Adam's neck, leaving a love bite that'll be around for a week, and my ass is asking me why the hell I waited so long. Adam's legs are pressed into his chest and my shoulders, and he's holding his knees wide. The feeling of him lying beneath with the sole purpose of being fucked by me is a heady one.

My skin has turned to one big erogenous zone; the wool of my skirt no longer chafes but caresses and the tug of my thigh-highs is somehow transmitted to my balls, ratcheting up the tension another notch. My chest itches where the adhesive holds my breasts in, and my nipples begging for attention they're just not going to get. The knot of my shirt is hard against my stomach, and damp where the head of Adam's cock keeps colliding with it. It must be like sandpaper against the delicate skin, but he doesn't seem to mind or even notice.

Still, these sensations pale in comparison to the feeling of Brandy's cock in me and mine in Adam, and the dual stimulation is driving me to the edge awfully fast. It's like going towards a cliff in a Ferrari with the accelerator floored and nowhere to turn, no way to stop. Only much, much better, because let's face it, even the most expensive car doesn't feel this good. My balls are drawing up and I start to feel bad for jumping the gun when I feel a flood of heat and wetness over my belly and realize that Adam's coming.

That's all it takes, one last bit of stimulation and I rest my forehead on Adam's shoulder and just tremble as orgasm sweeps over me. Brandy takes that cue to start pounding into me, and me into him, until both he and I are making these breathy little submissive whimpers. I start twitching all over with pleasure overload, and Adam's not faring much better; both our cocks are still valiantly pulsing out those few last drops. A few more thrusts and she's joining us at the cliff, falling over and filling me with heat.

When she's done, she pulls out and it's all I can manage to just roll over and collapse in a heap of goo. Adam seems to be seconding that motion, letting his legs flop down and stretching his arms back over his head. My cock twitches for a moment at how extremely fuckable and well-fucked he looks, covered in bites and bruises and grinning like a fool. I summon up the energy to capture his mouth in a deep kiss before joining Brandy over by the trash can to clean up with the convenient box of tissues.

"Well, that was fun," says Adam, and I have to agree. He rolls over and crawls up the bed, stopping for an incredibly sexy catlike stretch. My cock twitches again; if he keeps that up, I'll be ready for a second round in no time, and neither I or Adina are surprised when he says, "Now get over here and get naked so we can do it again."

Title: the Doll's House
Fandom: Smallville/Sweet November/Sorority Boys/Highlander
Pairing: Lex(Adina)/Brandy/Methos
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slash, crossdressing, threesome, mentions of past non-con
Summary: "I want a pretty boy to beg me to fuck him..." What if Adina was Lex's past? Written for the Neil Gaiman Title Challenge.
Acknowledgements: Thanks to my wonderful bunnies and my beautiful blue-cat betas.
Note: Adam Pierson is one of Methos' alter egos. Adam from KOK doesn't exist in this world, Lex is taking over his role as the male from whom Adina sprang. Brandy is just Brandy.

All of the works contained herein are labours of love, unauthorized by those who hold the rights to such things, and no profit is made from them. No harm is meant, and hopefully no offense given.