End: No—And Blaze Gets Morning Wood

Lois tugged. The woman was surprisingly heavy, for all that she was lithe. Lois looked down the length of her naked body and the only fat she saw was the small swellings of her breasts. Angelica Blaze was sheer lean muscle. Dense, not showy.

The reporter hadn't made much progress when she noted that Angelica's cock had begun to swell.

Immediately, the reporter froze. Her nostrils flared instinctively, and beneath the reek of sweat, whiskey, and sex, she could smell that masculine odor as the fat, happy slug swiftly filled out. The great ridge on the underside inflated and the cock lifted up off those perfectly defined abdominal muscles. Lois realized she was holding her breath as the swollen purple head pulled free of its tiny bit of foreskin, and a drop of clear pre-cum began to bead on the piss-hole.

Lois Lane's tongue caught in her teeth. Her head pounded. Pussy ached. She instinctively squeezed her vaginal muscles and could still feel the sticky load from last night still inside of her, oozing sluggishly out of her labia. The reporter resisted a shudder as she thought of her pussy as a dripping, gooey, cum-filled mess.

A very fertile mess. The reporter's headache throbbed painfully, right behind her eyes, as she suddenly couldn't remember the last time she'd taken birth control. She'd gone off of it months ago, because she hadn't been having sex, and she'd planned to get an IUD, but then she...hadn't.

Now she stared at the hard cock that pointed up from the naked body of Angelica Blaze, and Lois felt a pang of nostalgia. She missed waking up next to lovers like this. It was often her favorite time, to play with their morning wood, to make love in the morning, to carry that energy with her throughout the day.

Except she was hungover, she'd already made mistakes last night.

Then she felt the long, warm fingers of Angelica Blaze on the back of her neck. Silently, her one-night-stand's head had turned, the wolfish face buried in that great mane of black hair. Dark eyes mere slits as she stroked the reporter's neck.

"Look how hard it is for you," Blaze broke the silence, her voice soft and husky.

"I have to go," Lois said, and swallowed the nasty taste in her mouth, unable to tear her eyes away from the cock. The bead of pre-cum continued to grow, slowly, now pendulous and ready to drop onto Blaze's abs.

"What's the rush, sweetmeat?" Blaze gave her Mona Lisa smile. "You can't leave me like this...don't you want to play a little longer? You were so hungry for it last night. Making up for lost time."

The reporter's throat felt filled with phlegm. She flexed her hands, just to make sure she could. Now that there was no danger of waking Angelica up, she knew that she could just pull her arm up. Just pull it out from under her and walk away from that cock. That hard, swollen, throbbing shaft.

"We didn't use protection last night," Lois said, as if to herself. "I could get pregnant. I need to go take a pill."

"If you take a pill," Blaze countered. "Then one more load doesn't matter, does it?"

"No..." Lois said softly.

Yet she knew, if she rolled over. If she straddled Blaze and took that cock inside of her...somehow it felt like it would be crossing a line. One that she wouldn't be able to go back from. It was one thing to fall into bed with someone while drunk and horny, but to do it while sober...

As if reading her thoughts, Blaze flipped over. Suddenly she was on top of the reporter, with all the speed and grace of a great cat. Her hands on Lois Lane's upper arms pinned the reporter to the bed. Blindly, her cockhead stabbed at the reporter's thighs, as it searched for her hole. Those dark eyes stared into Blaze's, and then the expression went suddenly tender.

"Face it sweetmeat," Blaze whispered. "You hit the jackpot. All the cock you want...all the cock and cum you need..."

The head of the prick dug into her folds. Caught on the entrance of her vagina. Lois Lane opened her mouth, to tell Blaze to get off, to go to hell, to not...

Then Blaze's face was in her own. Lips locked. A small, strong tongue scraped across the reporter's teeth. Lois was so shocked, she only noticed a half a heartbeat later that the hard shaft pushed inside of her, and the reporter spread her knees wide and tried to lift her ass as she instinctively guided that head to rub against her g-spot.

Maybe it was the hangover. Maybe it was just how good that cock felt. Lois Lane closed her eyes and leaned into it, as Angelica Blaze began to stir her cunt, determined to dump a fresh load into a pussy that she had already inseminated last night.

Determined, though Lois Lane didn't know it, to finish the job she had started.

From the moment you walked into my club, Blaze thought, almost loud enough for Lois to hear. I was determined to make you mine!

Lois Lane didn't fall just then. One hungover fuck isn't enough for that. Only it wasn't just one fuck, even as it hadn't been just one drink. Blaze was nothing less than relentless, and incorrigible...and Lois Lane, who had gone without for far too long, did not so much fall into darkness as she stumbled, one drunken pussy-pumping at a time. Until at last she would not recognize herself or what her life had become...though she would look back, later, and realize that it had all begun with the decisions she had made during her night out.