Bizarro's Balls

The john who had fucked Lois at the glory hole couldn't have gone far; the reporter reasoned, as she dipped a hand to her snatch to scoop up another dollop of chocolate-flavored jizz, he might even still be in the club. Maria was right behind Lois as they turned to the noise and atmosphere of the dance floor, the barmaid keeping a running commentary.

"...I mean, normally I only give head to get head, or if it's a birthday or something, y'know? But that was the Godiva chocolate of sperm. I wouldn't let any hard on go to waste. I'd suck on his crunchy old socks and drain his balls after every meal..."

Through the dim light and the crowd, Lois saw a rankled, slightly hulking figure shambling along the outside of the dance floor. People bumped into him and spun off as though they'd hit a wall; if he made it into a mosh pit the brute would be a safety hazard. Lois walked toward him a briskly as she could, Maria trailing along.

"...I've heard that sometimes the taste depends on what you eat, but that was more than anything oysters and vegetables could do. Shit, I want to tie him up and milk him like a friggin' bull with one of those pumps they use. I want to stuff my face in your cunt and spread blue jizz straight from your pussy onto a chocolate cake..."

In public, Lois couldn't afford to dive down into her cooch for another taste, all she could do was lick her lips as she narrowed in on her target...and he sensed her coming. Turned and stared at her, through tilted black frame glasses. Hair like a bird's nest, black hair stiff as stray and pointing out at all angles, even though it looked like he'd tried to comb it. He stood there and waited as Lois sidled up to him.

"You no am looking for me?" The brute growled low and gravelly.

Lois smiled as she put her arm on his shoulder, feeling the hard muscle underneath, like steel.

"You didn't fuck the shit out of me," she had to half-yell into his ear, to hear herself in the crowd. "I didn't like it! I don't want more!"

She pulled at his clothes, gesturing toward the fire door that led to the alley. Maria, getting the idea, grabbed his crotch and began rubbing it with one hand, while the other grabbed his shoulder and tried to pull him.

The ill-dressed brute was like a statue...or a five year old...constantly distracted by the stage lights, the dancers in the cages flashing their ta-tas...but Lois and Maria cajoled and pressed him, shuffling him along toward the exit...