Disbelief

Lois looked down incredulously at the cock stuff into her cunt; her mother's mouth had dipped down to suck on Blaze's balls. Her pussy felt wet...really wet...and as the reporter lifted herself up she saw streaks of something black as crude oil, but sticky like jizz.

"Is that it?" Lois said. "I mean, I...I haven't even..."

"I'm very potent," Angelica Blaze assured her. "Although I hate to leave you unfinished. If you climax, it will increase the odds of conception. We can keep going; I'm still hard."

"I just...I guess I expected..." Lois swallowed. "I'm not pregnant yet?"

"Biology, Lois," the dickgirl said patiently. "It can take a few hours for conception to take place, even when you're ovulating—as you are—and even with a pussy full of fresh cum—which you have. Of course, we really should maximize your chances. I can cum several times in a row, and a few extra loads should really increase the certainty that you 'take.'"

Lois let out a breath. Somehow, with all the talk about magic and curses and ghosts, she'd expected this whole thing to be more...instantaneous. It was almost a letdown to think that she'd actually have to try and get pregnant, like a normal woman.

Ella Lane released Blaze's balls with a wet plop. "Lois Lane, I want you to sit right back down on that cock. You're letting all that perfectly good sperm leak out you."

Something in her mother's voice reached into Lois Lane's brain and demanded obedience. Lois felt herself settling back into the dickgirl's lap without a thought, grunting softly as, once again, she let it go too far and the swollen tip bumped the back of her pussy. She winced, and mentally reminded herself not to do that again in the future.

Wait, what am I thinking? I mean, she already came in me, I could just get up and...there's no guarantee we're still going to fuck, I haven't even said yes to...

"Were you really proposing marriage just now?" Lois asked. "Or was that just pillow talk?"

"Oh, I assure you, my dear, I am completely serious." Blaze released one of the reporter's breasts so that her fingers could slide over the reporter's flat belly, down to tickle Lois Lane's clit. The reporter's mother had turned her attention—and her tongue—back to her daughter's labia.

"I know you don't love me yet, but there are many marriages that started out as unions of convenience...and who knows, you might grow to love me in time...I'm already very fond of you, I have to say. I can imagine enjoying our...conjugal times..."

A question arose in Lois Lane's mind, a very pertinent one.