A Very Long Tongue

The sorceress raised her head...and the long pink tongue remained in Lois Lane's tattooed and pierced twat, a great fleshy ribbon that moved like a great worm or serpent, sliding around in the reporter's depths, curling back on itself so that it could like her cervix and rub against her clitoris at the same time.

"Oh...oh goddess..." Lois moaned, her hips bucking and thighs opening to give the sorceress better access to her cunt. It was like nothing that the reporter had ever experienced before. Normally she didn't get off on penetration, but Circe's tongue was literal magic...pumping and rubbing against her g-spot, her clit...hot saliva and pussy juices ran down her perineum and dripped over her asshole, down into the damp sands...and all Lois could do was lay there and quiver, her fists burying themselves in the hot sand, the heat of the sun baking her already tanned body even darker...

Circe was relentless. Lois moaned louder and louder, her body tensing, muscles bunched as she began to shake uncontrollably...and just when she approached her climax, the sorceress and her peculiar tongue would pause, absolutely stock-still, even flinching away when Lois tried to move her cunny to rub against the great prehensile pink ribbon from Circe's mouth...and only when the reporter had calmed down and laid still again would the sorceress begin her ministrations again, driving Lois on to heights of ecstasy and frustration like nothing she had experienced before.

The reporter lost track of how many cycles they went through. She mewled in frustration, rubbed sand into her tits, pulled at the piercings in her labia. Pushed past the brink of self-control, the reporter crowed with need as the sorceress relentlessly drove her once again to the very height, her whole body tense as a drawn bowstring, **** to cum...until finally the reporter begged, babbled...

"Please...Mistress! Please I need to cum! Let me cum, please, please, I'll do anything, please..."

A flicker of interest in Circe's eyes. One eyebrow raised. A terrible question seemed to impose itself on Lois Lane's mind. A growing certainty. Circe wanted something. Wanted Lois to offer something. The brand above the reporter's pussy began to itch, and Lois knew that the sorceress already owned her cunt...but what else could lose offer her. Aching with need, the reporter was ready to offer something else to her mistress, if only she could finally cum.