End: Lois Lane Wants To Contemplate Her New Sexuality

In a haze, Lois Lane found herself no longer in the shower, but fully dressed, back in the club, at the bar. One finger twirled a strand of blonde hair...her hair. The reporter stared at it as if for the first time. Vaguely, she realized she must have toweled off, dressed, come upstairs. Yet it was all vague and foggy.

A tall, thin woman in a black t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off and skinny black jeans and dark boots laid a hand on Lois's shoulder. There was a clink of glass on glass, and Lois saw that in her other hand was a beer bottle. As the woman tipped back her bottle, Lois did the same. Cool, sticky-sweet beer slid down her throat. The woman was talking, and Lois couldn't hear her over the crowd.

Blaze. Angelica Blaze. That's her name. Lois thought. She recalled now how she had helped the reporter into the shower...and held her in the shower. The reporter blushed as she thought about how those slender hands had rubbed all over her.

She was touchy-feely. The beer bottle in the woman's left hand stayed there, but the right hand was always touching Lois. Her shoulder, forearm...smooth a blond lock of hair out of her eyes...down on her thigh, her knee...

Lois bit her lip as her heart started to beat a little faster. She found herself staring at the woman's breasts. The certainty grew on Lois that Angelica wasn't wearing a bra. The reporter could almost make out the nipples pressing against the t-shirt, and quickly swallowed more beer as butterflies began to flutter in her stomach.

I mean, it shouldn't be a surprise, Lois thought to herself. I'm bisexual. It's natural to be attracted to a woman. It's not weird...

The reporter jerked her head up, **** not to be seen staring at the woman's breasts...and stared directly into Angelica's eyes. It was a knowing, almost hungry look. Blaze leaned forward on her stool, and then further forward, one foot touching the space between them as she came half-off her stool and the face drew closer and closer, and the reporter froze as she pictured those lips kissing hers...but instead their cheeks touched, and the lips pressed almost against her ear as she said something.

Lois still couldn't hear exactly what it was, but she was pretty sure it was something along the lines of "Wanna fuck?"

She remembered shaking her head up and down.

Then they were gone. On a bed, in a loft. Angelica peeling the reporter's t-shirt off, Lois Lane's blonde hair falling into her face. The reporter found her hands tugging that black sleeveless t-shirt off, wanting to touch those small breasts with the big, hard pink nipples, but Blaze was more interested in pulling at the reporter's pants. For a moment, Lois wondered if they were going too fast...

On her back, naked body pressed into the sheets, a hot tongue swirling inside her leaking cunt, and Lois arched her back and moaned. She couldn't remember how she had gotten there, but it didn't matter, Angelica's tongue was a living thing exploring her depths, and Lois grabbed her head and ran her fingers through that dark hair, her mouth opened to moan like the slut she was...

Something hot and swollen in the reporter's mouth, her lips wrapped around the strangely familiar object, which pulsed. A masculine flavor in her mouth, earthy, salty, ripe with ammonia like a men's urinal, strong hands guiding her. Lois opened her violet eyes and looked up at a man whom she had never seen before but who was vaguely familiar...the whipcord leanness, the sharp angle of the bones in his face, the broad forehead and dark eyes...just like Blaze's...

"My brother and I share everything," Angelica's voice came to the reporter's mind, swimming up from the depths like a memory, and Lois wished she could remember when Blaze had said that to her, when her brother had arrived, when she'd agreed...

On all fours, her head buried between Blaze's legs, her own tongue so awkward and strange as she licked at the woman's cunt. Angelica's lips were sucking on the reporter's clit and her brother's strong hands were spreading Lois Lane's ass, the tip of his cock pressing against her asshole...and Lois felt her heart jackhammer as he pressed forward, somehow grateful he'd gone for that hole, still not quite believing she was doing this...

But then, she thought, panting and exhausted as she lay on the bed between brother and sister, her blonde hair covering one violet eye, hot cum leaking out of her aching asshole. I am a blonde bisexual slut.

Below the club, whores whored. Poison Ivy fertilized her plants. Perhaps down there among skanks and sluts were the four missing women that Lois Lane had come to find...and failed. Those were the last thoughts that ran through Lois Lane's mind as she drifted off to sleep.

Lois wondered in the morning how much of this night out she would remember...how many of the memories would surface with time...and, perhaps, whether they would fuck again when the dawn came.