Chapter 13 by Zeebop

What does Lois Lane say to Harley Quinn?

Do You Mind? I'm Busy.

Harley Quinn stopped as if she had run tits-first into an invisible wall. The reporter's half-lidded violet eyes caught and held those of the Clown Princess of Crime—and Harley sensed it then, the way she did with the Joker, and herself when she looked in the mirror. With sudden and terrible certainty, Harley knew one thing:

Lois Lane was crazy.

A drop of Ivy's pussy juice hung off the reporter's chin as she coolly regarded Harley Quinn, utterly dismissive of the threat Harley presented. Harley gulped, tried to reclaim the initiative.

"Tha—that's my girlfriend!" Harley said.

"You must be shit in bed then," Lois said. "Because she is seriously under-fucked."

Harley blinked. Her jaw dropped. Ivy moaned. The reporter's wrist twisted gently back and forth, to stir the fingers inside Ivy's ass.

"Look, I'm in the middle of making this cunt cum. I don't appreciate the interruption," Lois said dryly.

"You...you can't..." Harley said, unable to will herself forward, to swing the bat, to take Lois Lane's face off with one mighty two-handed strike. There was something infectious about the weird deadpan carnality of the reporter. Some psychic influence that went beyond mere hotness. Whatever Ivy had given Lois Lane had unlocked some power of influence or...or infectious madness.

"If you want to help, come eat her ass," Lois said. She tugged her fingers upward, and Ivy lifted her ass up. "Or don't. I don't really care."

The reporter shifted to lay her body across Poison Ivy's. Her tongue stroked the plant-woman's clit. Two fingers held Ivy's ass agape, so the red depths showed between the pale cheeks...and Harley Quinn found herself drawn forward, tongue out.