End: Lois Doesn't Whore Herself Out For Information

Lois Lane stood up. Behind the pounding headache, righteous anger flared.

"I don't fuck to get what I want," the reporter stood up. "Thanks for the coffee."

A hand reached out and grabbed the reporter's right wrist as she turned to leave.

"Wait," the dickgirl said. "I didn't...I want to take you out on a date. That's all."

Lois hesitated.

"It's the principle of the thing," the reporter said. "I know we slept together last night, but that wasn't...that wasn't business, right? That was just some drunken mistake. A one-time thing. I'm a reporter. I can't afford to whore myself out just to get information. If that got out, my whole reputation, my whole career that I've built up, would be worthless. People would assume I've slept my way to the top. And I didn't."

She tugged her arm. Blaze didn't let her go.

"Look. I understand. I'm not...well, I'm not saying I wouldn't love another crack at that pussy, but I was just hitting on you. Sit down. We'll talk about this. No sex, I promise."

Lois Lane chewed the inside of her lip. She had her principles and stuck by them...but she had already fucked Blaze once. The reporter sank down into her chair. If the dickgirl didn't have any information for her, then Lois could still leave.

"Now," Angelica said. "What are you looking for?"

Still somewhat distrustful of the lusty dickgirl's intentions, Lois explained about the missing women. By an effort of will, she tried to keep her gaze on Angelica's eyes. Not to stare at the nipples that pressed against the t-shirt, or the bulge in her pants. Lois could well remember what both looked like.

"I know them," Angelica Blaze said with a frown. "We ran this wet bitch contest a couple of weeks ago—that's like a wet t-shirt contest, but, y'know, more hardcore—and they won. All-expenses cruise down to Cancun. They're on the Blessed Voyager, Royal Norwegian Cruise Lines, probably getting white-girl wasted on free drinks and blowing their per diem at the onboard casino."

Lois opened her mouth... "Can you put me in touch with them?"

The dickgirl dug a phone out of her pocket, scrolled through it for a moment, then turned to show a series of phone numbers. The reporter quickly took out her own smartphone and tapped them in. Not at all what she expected, but this was the break she needed...

The reporter looked up from her phone. The dickgirl was looking at her expectantly. Lois Lane sighed.

"Okay," she said. "One date."

Cum oozed out of the reporter's pussy. She made a mental note to go easy on the **** this time. It was bad enough that her night out had ended with her getting multiple creampies, but to do it again would be utterly reckless. Blaze hid her Mona Lisa smile by sipping her coffee.

Oh well, the reporter thought. All's well that ends well.

Except for Lois Lane, this felt, oddly, more like a beginning than an ending...