End: Lois Lane Calls For Help

The Daily Planet's greatest reporter hated herself a little as she did the boring, mature, predictable thing and called for help. The Justice League hotline picked up on the third ring. A few moments of explanation later, and they were on her way...and Lois Lane slipped quietly out of the room, the lights still flashing, the massive dildos still fucking the air.

Every step hurt, and it wasn't just the reporter's heels. Lois Lane's better lovers had been bigger than average, and the hours after intense lovemaking had left her pelvis sore, but nothing like this. Ruefully, Lois realized her eyes had been bigger than her pussy. She really wasn't a size queen slut, and being in her thirties, she couldn't fuck all night and then go and run a marathon the next day.

She found the fire door to the alley just as the first of the heroes arrived. A female Green Lantern descended, an emerald platform held Zatanna, Batman, and Cyborg; Hawkgirl, Doctor Fate, and Supergirl descended under their own power. The Maid of Steel was the first to touch the ground next to her.

"Lois!" Supergirl said. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Lois said, even though she felt as if her legs were about to fall off. "Just a little worse for wear. Where's Superman?"

"In space. We've seen a transmission, but it could be hours before he gets it." The blonde said. "Do you need to go to the hospital? You look like you're in pain..."

"Just tired," Lois said. "I just want to get home."

"Of course," Batman said, he gestured toward the end of the alley. The Batmobile had appeared. "My car will take you."

Trust Batman to make a self-driving car that actually works, Lois Lane thought as she sat in the passenger seat of the Dark Knight's bespoke vehicle. The ride was so smooth that for a moment Lois didn't even feel much of the terrible ache deep inside of her. A part of her wondered if she would ever be tight again. It would make sense. After all, women who gave birth eventually went back to normal, or almost normal. She'd never heard any man complain about a MILF being "loose."

After the batmobile pulled up to her apartment, Lois staggered out of the car. Grit her teeth all the way up the elevator. Every little bump and shock seemed to go up from her legs to her poor cunny. By the time she reached her own door, the reporter was in agony, and wondered if she should have gone to the hospital.

A moment later, Lois had shed her pants and shoes, and lay, still dressed from the waist up, on her own bed, with a bag of ice stuffed between her legs.

She lay there, as the cold numbed her poor overworked pussy, and ruminated regretfully on the events of the night. What decisions she had made. What would have happened if she had gone left instead of right. Her labia throbbed, but the ice helped...though it couldn't reach the deeper ache inside of her.

Cervix is probably bruised, Lois thought with a frown. Probably piss blood tonight.

There was a knock at the balcony door. She stared at the glass portal and saw a familiar blue-and-red figure. Superman had got the message.

"Come in," she said, as she flipped a sheet over her nude lower half. It always felt silly to cover up around him, what with his X-ray vision, but Lois was too tired to get dressed.

He slid the door open, stepped inside, then turned and closed it. There was worry and relief in his face. Worry for her, she hoped; relief that she was alive and mostly intact. She **** a smile onto her own face.

Superman sat on the edge of the bed and held her hand as Lois gave another rundown of the events of the night...and maybe it was how tired she was, or the lingering effects of the hypnosis attempt, but Lois found herself not leaving out any detail, no matter how graphic. What it felt like. How much her pussy hurt.

"Great Caesar's ghost, what I wouldn't give for someone to just kiss it and make it better," Lois ended, eyes closed...and then she felt Superman draw the sheet aside.

"I'd be happy to, Lois," Superman said, as he plucked the half-melted bag of ice from her half-numb cunt.

Her cheeks burned as Superman laid down on the bed. Lois stared dumbly as he kissed her thighs. Hot kisses, on cold flesh. The reporter was embarrassed at him seeing her like this, the cool wetness of her pussy. Then his hot breath blew across her labia, and the reporter's clitoris went from soft to painfully erect in a second..and his tongue pushed past her lips.

It wasn't six inches long. Nor, Lois suspected, was Superman packing a micropenis in his crimson shorts. Yet as she began to mewl, and his super-strong tongue delicately massaged her innermost recesses, utterly dedicated to his new task of massaging her cunny from the inside, Lois thought to herself:

This is just what I needed.

Her fingers touseled his jet-black hair. His chin slid into the cleft of her ass. Lois swallowed hard as her breasts heaved. It was just what she needed. A perfect end to her night out.