Drink It

Lois Lane's heart beat faster as she wrapped her hand around the bottle. It felt heavier than it had in her pussy, all those long miles. Trembling in anticipation, the reporter brought it to her lips.

I shouldn't do this, Lois told herself. This is crazy, insane, sick, disgusting...I don't even know whose cum this is!

There had always been times like this in Lois' life—when the thrill and danger of the moment overwhelmed her. Out in the streets, she could keep control of her carnal instincts, but here, in the safety of her own home...it was harder to stop herself from indulging her baser instincts.

She threw her head back and upended the bottle.

It was cold and bitter as three-day old espresso, thick and stringy like syrup. The white goo slid down her throat in great gelatinous globs...and Lois Lane's chest heaved as she recognized the taste.

Cum, she thought, sucking harder at the bottle, swallowing gob after gob. Real cum! It's been so long...

If Lois Lane had a therapist, she wouldn't tell him about her little kink. It was something less than a fetish, more than a passing interest. Her first sexual experiences, before she had ever had the courage to suck a cock, had involved the wadded up tissues in the trash can at the co-ed dorms...the spent jizz rags of those young college men, left to waste. At first she had just been curious about the smell...and then the taste...

Her stomach tingled, suddenly feeling funny, and Lois realized she was pushing her tongue into the neck of the bottle, lapping at the last stringy bits of white goo.

I can't believe I drank it all, the woman thought as she lowered the bottle. I can't believe it's all gone!

She set the bottle back down on the counter...and that's when she noticed something strange.