End: Blaze Shows Her New Girlfriend Everything

They visited every corner of the facility. Lois Lane chatted with all the women, even the janitors who kept everything clean and hygienic and the maids who did the laundry and changed the sheets on the beds, the security guards who helped screen the most drunk and dangerous customers before they could see the women. She saw the bathrooms, the changing rooms, the waiting rooms where the clients picked out their partners, the little library of sex literature where small, intimate classes were taught on advanced sex techniques, and the little cafeteria where a tiny wrinkled Latina made Lois Lane the best tamale she'd had outside of Mexico City.

The tour ended at the security room, where two plus-size women in bikinis watched the monitors, the cameras covering every inch of the club and the brothel beneath. Angelica Blaze hovered in the background as the reporter asked them a few questions, made her final notes...and then the dickgirl's hand slid into the crook of the reporter's arm and she guided Lois away.

"Wow, that was...a lot," Lois said, as they stepped into Angelica's office. The carpet was a deep blue, and there was a brown leather couch beneath a baroque painting of a woman being seduced by the devil. The dickgirl's desk was a slab of wood from another century that could have served as a sacrificial altar to some enterprising druid, and on the far wall was a small bar topped with black marble. Lois spotted a door to a private bathroom, and Angelica busied herself with mixing drinks as the reporter stepped in to take care of her needs...and was surprised, surrounded by the black tile and golden fixtures, at how tired she really was.

Tired, sweaty, and smelly. Lois peeled herself out of her clothes and stepped into the shower. It was strange how used she had gotten to the smell of sex. Lubricant and latex, the food smells in the cafeteria...Lois used a natural sponge to scrub it off of her skin, enjoying the hot water as it rinsed the grime of the night off of her skin...and then her sponge slid over her breasts, and down between her legs.

What are you doing, Lane? Lois asked herself. Outside was a dickgirl who had declared herself Lois Lane's girlfriend...and the reporter had to admit that she had never been fucked like that. Never been filled like that. Her hand rested on her stomach. She hadn't thought about pregnancy or STIs much so far, but Lois knew she should be thinking of that. Of the future. Of what would happen when she stepped out that door, hair wet and wrapped in a towel. What Blaze would expect of her new girlfriend.

Am I going to ask Angelica for my clothes back and a ride home? Lois wondered. Claim I'm too tired? Ask her to slow down?

Lois didn't have good answers to those questions. But she thought about it, as she wiped the last of the makeup from her face. Dried herself with a towel, then wrapped it around her. Determination set in. She'd ask Angie to take her home. This whole thing was too much, too fast, she couldn't...

She opened the door to darkness.

The couch had folded out to a bed. The lights were out, replaced by small black candles. Angelica Blaze stood naked in the darkness, her hair billowing out behind her, at one with the stillness and the night, a cocktail glass in each hand...and as Lois stood limned in the doorway, the reporter was so arrested by the sight that she let the towel drop.

Between Blaze's legs, the cock rose. Slowly, hypnotically. The sight of the reporter's naked body made that impressive piece of meat swell and rise. To point stiffly at Lois Lane's pussy the swollen head bobbing gently in urgent need.

It had been a long time since Lois had felt so...wanted.

So as she stepped into the darkness, putting out the light behind her, Lois forgot what she was going to say. Accepted the glass from Blaze's hand as her eyes adjusted to the candlelight. Tasted something sweet and salty, thick and viscous, oddly familiar as it slid down her throat...and then she felt the head of the glans poke into her abdomen. Lois moved forward, the cock sliding up her stomach. Until her small breasts touched Angie's. Her head tilted up as Blaze's face canted, so their lips could meet. Flavors mingling, the hot, pulsing cock sandwiched between their bodies...

The glasses were put away. They fell into the bed, tumbling for dominance. Lois rolled on top, shifting forward, aiming the head of that cock against the entrance of her pussy...not suppressing the moan as it stretched her cunny out a little, as she slid back and let it fill her. Beneath her, Blaze's hands explored the reporter's body...but she didn't try to stir Lois to a greater pace. She let the tired reporter move as she would. The woman's hips rolled, bucked back and forth, all the exhaustion slowly fading as the heat and anticipation built up in her body...and Blaze never faltered, never wilted, never came inside Lois. Not until the reporter shook and shivered in her own climax. As the candles sputtered and died one by one. Until they were all alone in the dark and Lois begged to feel that hot rain of jizz drench the mouth of her womb.

Afterward, they lay together. Blaze's body was so warm, they didn't even need a sheet. The reporter's cheek lay against her girlfriend's shoulder, and her girlfriend's spunk slowly oozed out of a happy, well-fucked slit...and Lois Lane thought back to everything that had happened tonight, all the times she could have zigged instead of zagged, the choices she had made that ended up with her right here, right now...and she wondered...

What am I going to tell Superman?

But that is another story.