It's difficult to tell where one body stops and another starts.

Frantic movements.

Jarring collisions of flesh, fingernails, teeth, lips and cocks.

Hay and wood splinters jabbing at knees, ass and shoulders, completely ignored.

Stifled groans and moans of ecstasy.

Whispered words.

Dirty words...not words of love...only sex.

Rutting, animal sex.

Thumps and bumps as they struggle to sate their passions.

Strangled cries as they climax simultaneously.

The older man cleans himself with a grease stained cloth. "Clark's in the north field. I'll tell him you're here. Get dressed, Lex."

Horror and revulsion battled futilely against his throbbing cock. Who was he kidding? Lex threw off the covers, pounding the pillow in frustration. Surrendering to overpowering lust, he slid a hand down to grasp his rigid shaft.

It was just...so wrong; terrible, going to Hell kind of wrong, but...So. Fucking. Hot.

Lex exploded immediately, sticky cum spilling onto his belly and Jonathan Kent's name spilling from his lips.

The lingering sensation of Jonathan Kent's callused hands roughly using his body made Lex climax again in the shower.

They were always in the barn, the loft to be exact; late afternoon sun warmed their skin and cast a golden glow on the stacked bales of hay. Jonathan stripped the younger man naked; ordering Lex to call him Daddy. Jonathan scolded and often spanked Lex before fucking him senseless.

He usually climaxed before waking. Deeply ashamed of having wet dreams at his age, Lex started wearing a condom to bed to reduce cleanup and avoid the risk of servants gossiping about frequently soiled sheets.

Lex avoided eye contact with Clark, whenever the boy visited the mansion. He made lame ass excuses when Clark invited him out the farm. Just climbing up to the loft would be enough to expose him.

Lex felt guilty for alienating Clark, but until he gained control over these obsessive fantasies, he would not deal with Jonathan Kent face to face. He knew without a doubt, the first time Jonathan gave his patented scowl or a gruffly muttered greeting Lex would have to excuse himself for a little self abuse in the Kent bathroom.

Gabe Sullivan was elected to speak with Lex. He nervously escorted his young boss into the plant office and closed the door. Gabe blushed while stumbling through a badly rehearsed speech. It was no secret that Lex and Lionel weren't close and something was wrong. Gabe offered Lex a sympathetic ear.

Lex lied through his teeth; insomnia, nothing more. Thanking Gabe for his concern and assuring him that there was nothing to worry about; Lex fled the office, embarrassed almost to the point of tears.

That night, Lex took two sleeping pills and slept dreamlessly.

The Smallville High sophomore class bussed to Metropolis for a weekend excursion of art and culture, including two day passes to the MMoFA.

Jonathan Kent pulled his battered pickup to the servants' entrance with Cook's weekly vegetable delivery.

Sauntering into the kitchen, Lex stared in stunned surprise. He offered Jonathan a nervous smile and inquired, "What brings you to my humble abode, Mr. Kent? Where's Clark?"

Jonathan turned on Lex and growled furiously, "You've been avoiding Clark for the past two weeks, Lex Luthor! Why should Clark want to come see you?"

Shaking his head in disgust, Jonathan concluded, "That's what I thought." He turned to leave but stopped in the doorway. He whirled back to face Lex. "I don't know what's going on with you but leave my son out of it or you'll answer to me. Do you hear me, boy?"

Lex nodded, muttering a weak apology, "I'm sorry, Mr. Kent. This has nothing to do with Clark. I haven't been sleeping well, lately." He dropped his gaze, unwilling to explain further.

The bulge in Lex's pants was a painful thing indeed. He bit his lip to keep from whimpering, 'I'm sorry, Daddy!' as Jonathan waived a finger in his face. Suddenly, realizing the absurdity of this entire scenario made Lex laugh out loud.

"You think this is funny? I'll show you funny, boy." Jonathan advanced, gripping Lex by the shirt collar.

Jonathan wanted to knock the smile from Lex's face but he couldn't hit a man who stared him in the eye while apologizing. Wiping his hands on his own shirt, as if they'd been dirtied by touching Lex, "Stay away from Clark, until you're better." Leaving, Jonathan slammed the door.

For the first time in weeks, Lex was not worried about falling asleep. He poured a large brandy to celebrate.

He ordered delivery pizza and watched a favorite movie, still chuckling to himself occasionally all evening long.

That night, Lex turned in early, snuggling into bed, sans protection, and dreamed of Martha Kent.