End: Lois Is Tired Of Getting Fucked

Something clicked inside of Lois Lane. It wasn't a sudden bout of prudery; a woman cannot take twenty-four cocks in a row and maintain any illusions about the sexual act. Yet what the reporter decided is that she was tired of laying back and getting fucked. This kind of sedentary behavior was against her nature. She wasn't the type of journalist that laid back and waited for a story to drop in her lap—she went out and got the stories.

Lois grunted as she sat up, abs aching, pussy sore and spilling jizz out over the edge of the table.

"Sit down there," Lois said, gesturing at a chair. "This table is killing my back. I want to be on top this time."

The dickgirl smiled. She did as instructed, sitting on the edge of the chair with thighs spread wide, so that her heavy balls hung loose over the edge, the cock pointing straight into the air.

The Daily Planet's Greatest Reporter slid off the table. Now that she was moving, she could feel bruises and unexpected soreness all over her body. Pins-and-needles sensation ran through parts of her ass that had the circulation cut off by the position she had been in, and cum dripped and drooped down her legs in nasty, sticky strings. Lois wondered how sex workers and porn stars handled this kind of thing—probably with the proper precautions and ****. Neither of which Lois had.

Lois straddled the dickgirl's cock, so that they would be face-to-face. Angelica Blaze set her hands on the reporter's hips...and then hesitated, staring up past the reporter's breasts as though asking for permission. The reporter nodded her assent, her own hands grasping the dickgirl's shoulders as she lowered herself down.

Her pussy was in worse shape than she thought. Either that, or Blaze's dick was bigger than Lois remembered. Then Lois felt someone's hands on her shoulders. She twisted her neck around to see her mother, smiling at her.

"You're doing so well, Lois." Ella Lane said. "I'm so proud of you. Just one more might do it I think."

"Mom, it hurts!" Lois said.

"I know, dear," Ella said, tears in her violet eyes, a sad smile on her face. "Growing up always does."

With a hard shove, Ella shoved her daughter down onto Angelica Blaze's cock.

Lois seized up. It definitely felt bigger...and her pussy was tired, fucked raw, supersensitive and swollen and puffy from repeated pounding. All she wanted was to put an ice pack on her pussy...but she grit her teeth. Her mother was right. She had to see this through to the end. It was the only way.

Feet on the floor, hands on Angelica's shoulders, Lois began to slowly bounce on the dickgirl's cock. She would rise until she could feel the clans almost slip out, and then sink back down and grind. Her mother's hands disappeared after the first few repetitions of this new exercise, but Lois heard behind and below her some obscene sucking sounds, and from the strange cross-eyed look that came across Blaze's face, Lois imagined that her mother was making herself useful by sucking on the dickgirl's heavy balls.

It was different, from being fucked. Lois Lane bit her bottom lip as she achieved a good rhythm, and Angelica was rubbing the reporter's thighs, her lips planting kissed on her chest and breasts, collarbone and throat. The heat was building in Lois Lane's legs, but she was...in control. No longer the passive fuckdoll, the sperm receptacle just waiting to be filled. Now she was going out for that cum on her own terms, squeezing her pussy as she stood up, letting it go loose as she sank back down, rotating her hips in little circles as she felt her mother's hot breath on her asshole, and then back up again...

"Do it," Lois Lane said, as her breasts heaved, the heat reaching her face, burning her cheeks, hands slippery and massaging Blaze's shoulders. "Knock me up."

"As you wish," Angelica whispered throatily...and Lois brought her cunt down hard, her hot mouth seeking out Blaze's. As they kissed, the reporter could feel the hands squeeze tighter, felt the cock almost jump inside of her...and for the first time, the very first time, Lois Lane swore she could feel the **** of the ejaculation, burning deep and hard inside of her...and Lois shivered as her own body clamped tight, her stomach fluttering, thighs locking tight against the chair, fingernails digging into the dickgirl's flesh as she came...just a little.

Maybe it was enough.

Lois sagged against Angelica Blaze. Stupid tears filled her eyes.

"Is she gone?" Lois asked.

"Yes," Blaze said, her hands moving to massage the reporter's ass. "It was her time. She did what she had come to do."

Lois Lane sniffed.

"I want you to...consider something," Blaze said. "You did what you set out to do. As I knew you would. But that doesn't mean this has to be...the end."

The reporter got her meaning. After all of the events of tonight...her pussy ached fiercely, and she was exhausted from hours of sex and lack of sleep, dehydrated and very likely pregnant...she didn't have an answer. Not right now.

"I'll think about it," Lois promised. Because Angelica Blaze was right: Lois Lane had achieved what she set out to do. Maybe this wasn't how she had planned for her night out to end...but no journalist ever knows how any story will end, not really.