Blaze Laughs At The Suggestion

The dickgirl's laugh was like the errant cigarette butt that set off a forest fire. It seemed to reach straight past the reporter's conscious mind and self-control and push primitive levers in the back of her brain. Lois Lane's body tensed with a sudden surge of adrenaline.

"Don't be ridiculous. Look, if you haven't cum, give me a second and I'll fuck you agai—"

Quick as a panther, Lois struck. Blaze wasn't even sure what happened until she realized that she was on her back, the reporter's legs pressed against her biceps, the gooey, dripping slit pressed against the dickgirl's mouth. The reporter grabbed handfuls of Blaze's hair and pulled hard...but the dickgirl simply stared up at her, dark eyes inscrutable, face placid. More shocked than hurt.

"Eat. Me," Lois Lane ordered. "Or else!"

Blaze's eyes narrowed. The cheek muscles moved against Lois Lane's labia, as though the dickgirl smiled. Unspoken, but clear as day, Lois understood the response.

Or else what?

Lois Lane shook with frustration—frustrated need since she hadn't cum, anxiety over possibly getting pregnant, Angelica Blaze's smug expression—and then it happened. A thin golden liquid trickled out of the reporter's bladder. It wasn't unusual for Lois, during moments of **** stress, to need to pee. She had learned to use adult diapers during long stakeouts, and more than once she'd been tied up and had to beg to use the toilet, for fear of pissing herself.

This was just the first time she had lost control while sitting on someone's face.

For a second, Lois Lane's cheeks burned with embarrassment...then she saw as the thin yellow liquid reached Blaze's nostril, and the dickgirl, suddenly aware of what was going on, changed her expression completely. With a grin, Lois pressed her full weight against Angelica's face, her sopping pussy squelching noisily, bladder throbbing with a need to offload.

"Or else I'm going to piss in your face!" Lois Lane said triumphantly.