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Chapter 17 by Zeebop Zeebop

What Does Blaze Do?

Ejaculate Prematurely

Blaze grunted. Something warm and wet splattered against Lois Lane's pussy. The reporter looked down to see black goo dripping down from the entrance of her pussy, where the demonic dickhead was parked.

"Did you just cum in me?" She asked in disbelief.

"It's...it's precum," the demon lied. Lois raised her face to stare into the demon's white-on-white eyes, aghast at the insincerity of the transparent deception.

"It was a rhetorical question. What the fuck? We're bargaining with my life and ovaries and the souls of four women on the line, and you can't keep your gods-be-damned nut in your balls for one minute to seal the deal?"

Outrage filled the reporter. She, unbridled righteous anger married with sexual frustration. The demon flushed, a purple stain spreading across crimson cheekbones.

"Look, I'm still hard, we can still do this..."

Lois rolled her eyes and took a step back. "I'm calling the Justice League."

She walked over to where her clothing was, shaking her head. Like her freshman year at university all over again. She had thought once she graduated she'd be done with premature ejaculators.

"Don't." Blaze caught her wrist. A dark halo surrounded the demon's head now, sending out crackling spikes of black lightning that seemed to drink in the light. "Look, I was just a little over-excited, you're so beautiful, but we can still deal..."

The reporter turned and grabbed the swollen cock by the root, squeezing it hard.

"Oh, you want to deal? You want to deal after spilling your pathetic fucking seed all over the outside of my pussy? You still want to drive your dong deep in my guts and knock me up? Well forget it. The only way you're getting any poontang now is if you earn it!"

They say Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, but as the demon Blaze shrank back, she quietly amended that bit of popular wisdom. Hell had no fury like a woman faced with a pre-ejaculator.

"Okay?" the demon took a deep breath. "So how do I 'earn it'?"

Lois Lane stared down at the cock. Her pussy was a sodden mess, but even without that, she could still feel her sexual arousal. She still wanted that cock, dammit. But she had her pride.

"Sit on the couch," the reporter ordered. "We're going to train you to hold your wad."

How Do They Do It?

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