End: Lois Has To Make Love All Night

The demon turned over a card...and Lois sighed. Eight of diamonds. She didn't dare ask for another card.

"Stay," Lois said.

Lois: (6♠) 5♥ 8♦

Blaze: (?) Q♦

The demon surveyed the field. A tiny pink tongue-tip slid past her lips—and Lois suddenly knew how much this meant to her. It was the closest thing to a tell she seen crack the succubus's poker face.

"Dealer takes a card."

The ivory rectangle hit the felt...and the demon gave a little sigh. Her lips curled up as she turned her face-down card over...and the reporter's heart sank.

Lois: 6♠ 5♥ 8♦

Blaze: 4♥ Q♦ 7♦

"Twenty-one," the demon said. "Looks like I win."

The reporter stared at the cards numbly.

"Or perhaps I should say we've both won. After all, those women are free now...they will wander back into their old lives. You'll probably hear from them tomorrow." The demon pushed herself to her feet, the rigid red dick casting a shadow over the green felt.

"Somehow, I don't feel lucky," the reporter leaned back in her chair, eyes drawn to the one-eyed snake pointed at her. There was a phantom pain in her stomach...Lois knew she shouldn't be able to feel it when she ovulated, but in her imagination, that's what it was.

"Now, now...you're upset. That's natural. Let's get you a bit more comfortable..."

The demon snapped her fingers. An electric crackle filled the air, and around Lois the shadows lengthened and twisted. A dark black carpet erupted from the bare concrete floor beneath her feet. Great black curtains hung down to hide the ugly walls, and the ceiling creaked as it rose and arched. A massive, four-poster bed slid into existence, black silk sheets and pillows, smooth ebony columns...and scattered with black rose petals. It was a goth's dream boudoir.

"What if I say no?" Lois said, looking at the bed in quiet desperation. The door was still there, behind her, but the reporter wasn't sure she would make it.

"You're not a welcher, Lois Lane. We both know that," the demon extended her hand. "Come. This will not be unpleasant for either of us, I promise you that. Has it not been long since you enjoyed another's touch? Do you fear a night of intimacy?"

"I fear the result," Lois **** herself onto her legs.

The demon's smile haunted the reporter as she walked stiffly to the bed.

"Would you like something to help you get in the mood?" Blaze asked. "Wine? Cannabis? It's best to relax. We have all night."

The words stung, though Lois knew they weren't intended to. It felt like a betrayal, though of who she didn't know.

"Wine," the reporter said, as she sat on the bed...and a moment later, there was a dark wooden table at her right hand, on which was a bottle of coal-black wine and a glass. Lois pulled the cork and poured. The scent that came off of it was sweet, almost sickly so...and the reporter fairly jumped as the naked succubus sat next to her on the bed.

"Sit against the backboard," the demon suggested. "And spread your legs. Drink...and allow me to have a taste of you."

It made too much sense to argue against. So Lois piled some black pillows and laid against it. Brought the glass of sweet black wine to her lips...and through the glass, eyed the blood-red demon that slithered forward on all fours, like a lizard, her tongue seeking the reporter's fertile slit.

The scarlet skin was bright against the reporter's pale flesh, especially on top of the black sheets. Lois repressed a shudder at the hot breath on her most intimate part...and then a soft, warm tongue slid over her pussy. Not aggressively, but softly, sweetly, intermixed with kisses...and the growing warmth in the reporter's belly was not all from the wine, as Lois finished one glass and poured another. Despite herself, Lois could feel the sensual heat that spread gooseflesh across her skin, pink nipples hardening, cheeks flushing as with infinite patience the demon lapped at her, now pressing that tongue deep, now sucking on the little clit, and as Lois finished the second glass of wine, feeling the pleasant buzz fill her head, she found her eyes focused on that rigid prick with the great veins standing out prominently on it...

Nor did Lois fight when, after the second glass was emptied and sat aside, the demon's tongue slid upward...and red hands dragged the reporter down, onto her side, left leg raised. Heart thundering in her chest, the reporter reached down to guide that swollen scarlet shaft to her own pussy...and trembled in Blaze's arms as it pushed forward, bigger than any of her previous lovers, and feeling all the bigger because of the reporter's long period of abstinence. Yet she was wet, and Blaze was gently, squeezing the cock in slowly, letting Lois get used to the length, the girth that spread the pink labia.

Her kisses fell on the reporter's shoulder, and Lois extended her neck in invitation, the succubus's hot lips tracing a line of hard, hot, sucking kisses all the way up to the corner of her jaw, leaving behind dark hickies that would blossom and embarrass the reporter in the morning...but that was many hours away.

Scarlet hands groped at her breasts. Scarlet lips sought her mouth. Scarlet prick split her pussy as it pushed in deep, the hairless balls hot against her thigh...and maybe it was the wine, or the way Blaze's hot hands squeezed the reporter's small tits and thighs...or the earnestness with which she sought more from Lois, to make her respond, to draw her into the mating dance...and Lois found that she liked the sense of being wanted.

Their lips met. Tongue tangled. Something hot oozed out of the reporter's pussy as the dickgirl pumped away, and Lois realized that Blaze had already cum in her and she hadn't even felt it...and that was only the beginning of a long, long night, that found Lois and Blaze move from one position to the next. Something was in the reporter now that she had gone past the point of no return. She didn't care about the possibility of pregnancy, only sought for her climax...and Blaze, gentle but insistent, white eyes glowing from within laughed as she did her best to draw Lois from height to height, drinking in the soft moans and animal grunts, the shiver of the soft flesh, the whole-body quake as Lois Lane seized up, unable to move as the violet eyes rolled up into her head...

Dawn broke over Metropolis, and Lois Lane lay sleeping on the dark bed. Black seed oozed from her cunt...and the lips of her mouth...and left streaks across her thighs and belly. The demon smiled to herself, her priapic prick finally sated, letting her fingers comb her lover's dark hair.

"Long years you have spent, thinking yourself in love with that hero," she whispered, quietly so that the reporter could not hear her. "Yet this night, I have cracked the citadel of your heart...and I tell you this, Lois Lane, that once I have set myself to a task, I am not easily dissuaded. I have had you tonight...and I mean to have you again. You will be mine."

Yet Lois Lane would awake alone...body aching and tired, pussy pulsing in echo of the pounding of that night, crotch sticky and filthy...but Blaze was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps the reporter's heart felt a sudden emptiness at that...or perhaps her cunny, aching as it did from the unaccustomed exercise, yet wished that it had something to massage it from inside.

Lois Lane's Night Out was over...and now the reporter was left to deal with the conflicting emotions that Blaze had left her with...among other complications.