End: Lois Lane Seduces The Priests

Later on, after it happened, Lois Lane rationalized that it must have been the lingering supernatural influence of the shrine that made her act so out of character. Months of sexual celibacy suddenly ended, spurred on by some demonic entity had overwhelmed her. It was what how she explained it, later, when the time came for explanations. When Superman stared at her with those big blue eyes, a hurt look on his face, and asked her the hard questions.

In the moment, of course, the bottomless reporter simply lunged forward and tore the black pants from the older priest. A frazzle of grey hair surrounded the half-hard cock between spindly legs, pale and criss-crossed with blue veins.

"I cast you out! Unclean spirit!" The old man said, as he waved his silver crucifix at her.

Lois Lane's answer was to swallow his spindly prick with her mouth. She sucked hard, cheeks hollowed out. With his pants around his ankles, Lois pulled them toward her. His feet went out from beneath him and he landed on his bony ass, the horny reporter's face still stuck on his crotch.

Behind her, the younger priest got a good view of Lois Lane's puffy, dripping twat. She waved her buttocks at him, as if to say: "Shove it up my pussy, you faggot!"

The reporter began to bob her head, to pull slowly at the old man's dick as he futilely waved his crucifix. She could feel the blood swell his order. Her tongue scraped the bitter, gritty smegma from behind the glans of his cock, and in her nasty frame of mind the reporter was happy enough to eat his dick cheese if he got hard enough to fuck her with it. Even as the old priest tried to push her off of him, the reporter's hands grabbed at his grizzled balls and tugged gently, hoping the seed sacs still had a salty load for her.

"In the Name of our Lord Jesus Christ! It is he who commands you! It is he who flung you from the gates of Heaven to the depths of Hell!" The old priest shouted at the top of his lungs.

Behind her, Lois could feel the younger priest's eyes on her pussy.

Fuck me! Lois thought silently.

"Oh Lord," the young priest said, and Lois shivered in excitement as she felt the familiar sensation of a rubbery prick dig at her pussy lips. "Forgive me!"

"Be gone..." the old man gasped as he grabbed at his chest. Lois Lane's finger rubbed against the soft underside of the old man's scrotum, the tip of her finger edged closer and closer to his asshole. "...from this creature of God! Be gone! In the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit!"

"Amen!" the young priest shouted as he buried his prick in Lois Lane's hot snatch.

Lois Lane would like to say she didn't remember much about what happened next. The older priest's pitiful gasp as a hot, bitter, sticky flood of years of pent-up baby batter exploded in the reporter's throat. The young priest's mangled prayers as he slammed into her, utterly unable to stop his hips, unskilled and uncaring as to her pleasure as he seeded her womb. The broken complacency of both men as she sucked and stroked them hard again, and then made them lay together, leg over leg, testicle to testicle, so that she could stuff both of their cocks into her spunk-riddled twat at the same time.

It was while Lois Lane squatted over them both, her buttocks humping mercilessly, that she felt the shadow leave her...that something like reason came back to her...and then the two men had moaned and with a cry like a pair of damned souls, two fresh loads of spunk founted up inside of Lois Lane's cunt and splattered her cervix.

Lois had staggered up after that, red-faced, apologetic, and despite that fact that she hadn't cum, with a terrible foreboding sense of...fullness. Fulfillment. She helped the old man get dressed, to find his pills, and finally rode in the ambulance with him to the hospital. The reporter even held his hand as he lay dying, and his younger colleague read aloud the **** unction.

Not aware, then, that he had left Lois someone to remember him by. In point of fact, both priests had, though such circumstances were extremely rare in humans. Once more, Lois Lane attributed that to the influence of whatever demonic **** had seemingly possessed her that night.

In the weeks that followed, as her period never came and her waist thickened, Lois Lane had plenty of time to think on the events of that night out. What she had done, and not done. The choices she had made and not made. Paths taken and not taken. How it might all have turned out differently if only...but she could not go back now and undo things. She thought of the twins in her womb, and the crucifix that dangled between her breasts that had been the old priest's final legacy to her...and looked toward the future.