End: Actual Fucking

Angelica Blaze's hips shifted, trying to shove her cock in even deeper. Lois grimaced as the discomfort inside of her spiked into actual pain. The reporter reached up and pinched one of the dickgirl's nipples, hard.

"You're going to bruise my cervix!" Lois hissed. Then she looked in the dickgirl's eyes.

They were pure white, with no pupil or iris...and they were glowing from within with a pale, steady light.

Lois pinched nipple again, harder. There was no response, so this time she slapped the tit, hard. Blaze's mouth opened and she began to speak, a nonsense burble of syllables.

"Gof'nn hupadgh Shub-Niggurath..." Angelica's head inclined to look Lois in the eye. She raised a hand to caress the reporter's cheek, using the back of her hand...a gesture that the dickgirl had never used on Lois before. With a jerk, the hips drew back, and Lois sighed for a moment...and then they plunged forward again, and Lois squealed in pain as the cockhead drove once more into her tender cervix.

The hand hovered over Lois Lane's abdomen, drawing signs in the air...and the air glowed, the runes hovering there for a moment before sinking down into the reporter's skin as the cock sawed back and forth inside her cunt.

Freaked out, Lois Lane tried to back away...but the dickgirl moved with her, as if in some kind dance, her free arm blocking the reporter's movement as they twisted around the bed, the cock plunging in and out of the reporter's pussy as those strange sigils sank down into the reporter's stomach and.

****, Lois tried to think of what she should do. Blaze was obviously in a trance or possessed or something, and she didn't want to hurt the dickgirl...but at the same time, she didn't want the dickgirl to hurt her. Too much repeated pounding on her cervix could trigger a miscarriage. She could already feel weird butterflies in her stomach, the strange sensation of her guts almost twisting themselves around. With increasing panic, she looked around...

...and saw that the carvings on the gravid idol were glowing with the same strange light pouring out of Angelica Blaze's eyes.

Plan and implementation happened at once. Lois reached out and grabbed the nearest item at hand—her alarm clock—ripped it out of the wall and threw it at the idol as hard as she could. Bottom-heavy as the idol was, the **** and mass of the airborne timepiece caused it to rock...waver...and as Angelica Blaze's cock pushed painfully deep one last time, to fall.

The crash was anticlimactic. No burst of white light, no opening-the-ark-of-the-covenant light and sound effects. Blaze grunted, and Lois felt a by-now-familiar warm extra wetness down in her pussy. The sweating reporter looked at Angelica Blaze's eyes to see the dickgirl blinky...but normal.

"Huh," Angie said, shaking that wild mane of black hair. "That wasn't supposed to happen."

"It was the idol," Lois said, indicating the fragments. "The carvings were glowing, and your eyes..." In short order, the reporter relayed the whole story.

Angelica pulled her limp cock, still dripping spunk, out of the reporter's pussy. She wasn't smiling.

"This is going to sound weird but uh...can you spread your legs and let me take a look?"

Lois Lane knew she should feel embarrassed...but hell, they'd already come this far. So she laid back on the bed and spread her legs over the edge of the bed.

Angelica got on her knees, and with her fingers gently spread the reporter's labia. She made a grunting sound in the back of her throat, and holding the lips open with one hand gently scooped out some of the cum with the other.

"So...you definitely wanted twins, right?" Blaze asked.

"I...guess. Why?"

"Well, the magic...uh, I guess invoking Shub-Niggurath, she's a goddess of fertility, was a bit overkill. Seems there was a resonant effect with the idol over there...I didn't think of that..."

"Angie, be straight with me," Lois insisted, staring down the length of her body, through the valley of her breasts and over the flat stomach.

Blaze sighed. "So...you've got two vaginas now. And two uteruses, two cervixes..."

"Cervices," the reporter corrected automatically. "So you're telling me that instead of splitting the fertilized embryo in two, this...Bigg-Shrubamaranth..."

"Shub-Niggurath," Angelica corrected.

"Split my entire reproductive tract into two functional ones?"

"Pretty much. Except I'm also pretty positive that both sides are pregnant, too."

Lois Lane blinked. This was a lot to absorb.

"I want you to lick my pussy now. I don't know when I want you to stop. Just...keep going until I get bored or your jaw falls off in exhaustion. Then, I'm going to schedule a doctor's appointment and...confirm things...and..." She sighed. "We need to have a long talk about how we're going to handle this pregnancy. Pregnancies."

"Sure, sweetmeat," Angelica said with that familiar Mona Lisa smile. "Whatever you wish."

That was how Lois Lane's night out really ended: on the bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering what int he hell had even happened to her that night, as a skillful tongue dove into her channel—now two channels—and deep within the fertilized embryos were attaching themselves, the body moving through the first stages of realizing that it was pregnant. The reporter sighed, wondering how in the hell she was going to explain this...and was glad, as Angie's nose brushed her clit, that at least the dickgirl knew when to keep quiet. That boded well for any future relationship.