End: I Want A Baby

It was though a dam burst inside Lois' mind—why she had grabbed the idol, why she had been feeling so weird this entire evening. All she needed to push the final piece into place was Angelica's gentle prodding. Maybe it was her biological clock ticking, maybe it was just the right time...and maybe Lois didn't have a partner right now, but when had that ever stopped her from achieving anything? The reporter made up her mind, and she stated it clearly.

"I want a baby."

A pair of hot lips pressed against the corner of Lois' mouth, quick and fleeting.

"As you wish."

The whore grunted—and now Lois felt a different sort of dam bursting inside of her. Holding Lois tightly, Angelica rolled her client over, so that her belly was against the bed...and then pulled. The reporter felt her legs slip over the bed, her ass hanging out...and from this angle the escort could plunge her cock deep into Lois, humping her from behind...and proceeded to do so.

The ramming thuds of the prostitute's hips drove Lois across the bed, fast, long, power-strokes that aw the length of the shemale's cock pulled out and of the reporter's snatch and slammed back home, punctuated each time with a thigh-slapping smack of testicles. Lois, tits pressed into the bedspread, held on for dear life as the fucking intensified.

She couldn't see the idol anymore, not from his position. But Lois didn't need to. The image of her gravid self hung in her mind's eye. Lois Lane, single reporter, knocked up. And what was wrong with that? Why shouldn't a woman of her caliber and accomplishments choose to have a child?

There was a soft roar as Angelica came—a wordless cry of release, the hard fuck pausing for a long instant with the prostitute's cock buried deep within Lois. Once again, Lois felt, not an orgasm as such but the sudden sensation of contentment. A hunger that had been gnawing at her suddenly satisfied. She shivered to think of all the spunk inside of her, swimmers headed for their target...and if they didn't make it, well, she could always try again...

Except that was the second time tonight, Lois knew. Even if cialis kept Angelica hard, she doubted the shemale had another load in her, at least not for a while. Refractory periods being what they were and all that.

So it was with a bit of surprise when, a moment later, still breathing heavily, Angelica started moving her slick cock in and out of Lois' sloppy cunt once again.

"You can't..." the reporter protested. "Your balls must be dry!"

"You hired me for the entire night," Angelica slammed her cock into its snug home once again. "And more than that, you've given me a goal. One I aim to achieve."

Lois felt a strong hand toy with her hair as the prostitute pressed her cock deep inside and began to grind...and she could feel herself getting excited again. Most of her boyfriends were good for one shot and then they were done. She had never met anyone with this much endurance...or determination. It was actually kind of enduring.

"Do you really think you can impregnate me?" Lois asked, squeezing her wet cunny around the still-hard prick.

Angelica leaned over Lois, hands ranging over the reporter's body, pinning her to the bed with the prostitute's own weight. Gentle kisses traveled up her spine, her neck...the face buried in the mother-to-be's hair, and finally Lois turned her head, and the lips brushed her ear.

"I'm damn sure going to try."

That would be a night that Lois would never forget. One that pushed her sexual endurance to its uttermost limits, and beyond. When the dawn finally cracked through the early morning windows, Angelica pulled her limp prick from Lois' pussy for the final time, and took the opportunity to admire the view.

The reporter's cunt was raw, the labia red and inflamed, the carefully-trimmed pubis matted with half-dried sexual fluids. The lips gaped apart, and Lois tunnel was bare and exposed, a dark void gently leaking pale cream onto the bedspread. Angelica, standing on wobbly legs, fell to her her knees before the sight and laid a series of gently kisses up the pale, bruised thighs, culminating with a peck on the rapidly-softening clitoris as it retreated for the last time into its hood.

Lois' limp hand found the escort's head in her lap, and ruffled her dark hair.

"Do you think it took?" the reporter croaked out between parched lips.

"If it didn't," happy exhaustion filled Angelica's voice. "You have my number."