End: Lois Lane Cums On The Giant Demon's Tongue

Each tastebud was as big as Lois Lane's fist, and they squished against her pussy like a hot loofah. Trapped in the giant crimson fist, the reporter could only scream as the massive tongue ran roughshod between her legs, the sides slid against her thighs, the thick tongue teased her pussy mercilessly.

Stuck inside the great crimson palm, the air was hot and close...and Lois Lane's legs kicked more feebly as a terrible heat built up inside her body. She fought against it. Nails dug into her palms as she kicked and writhed. Her head twisted and turned, banged against the pad of one finger.

Yet she couldn't fight it. The stimulation on her cunny was constant. Her pour quim was subject to a giant tongue-bath the like of which the reporter had never experienced. The soft tip of the tongue tried hard to squeeze into her little box, and Lois writhed and twisted as her traitor body began to twitch her hips, to hump that huge hunk of meat, to rub her clit against those fat tastebuds, even as drool dripped down the crack of her ass and oozed down her legs, to where her toes had begun to curl...

Lois recognized the sensation inside her body. The impulse, the need, the excitement, the apprehension that rose and rose. She had first felt it as a young woman, when her fingers had found her clitoris, and she had to stifle a moan so her father would not hear her. Her whole body began to vibrate and buck as it grew and grew, and the more Lois tried to fight it the better it got, like a balloon that kept being inflated, bigger and bigger, the pressure built and built and Lois found herself writhe in the giant's grip, ready to explode.

Then giant lips, each as thick as a car tire, pressed together against the reporter's crotch...and blew.

It was like a blowdryer was unleashed on the reporter's pour cunt. The heat and pressure sent Lois Lane's mind over the edge. Her scream echoed out of the cavern of that giant hand as her pussy burst forth a tangy splatter of juices, her lower body utterly on automatic pilot as it spasmed and shook, Lois Lane's eyes rolled up in her head as the electric wave washed over her.

Lois Lane twitched and shook, soaked with spit, as she landed on her own bed. Naked and alone, the echoes of the most powerful climax of her life had overwhelmed her, and it was only with great difficulty that Lois opened her eyes and saw the orange light of dawn through her balcony window.

Down beneath the club, the demon Blaze smiled. In her mind's eye, she could see the reporter, flustered and red-faced, embarrassed by her loss of control. A seed of lust had been planted on Lois Lane's night out, and Blaze began to weave her plans to make sure that tiny seed would sprout and grow...but that is another story.