End: No—But She Can Manipulate Him

Words gave way to primitive urges. Raw needs. Echoes of sensations. Zeroed in on Buck's mental wavelength, Lois Lane could feel an echo of what he felt. When her slit squeezed down on his prick as it pumped into her, she felt the tightness of her own cunny clamp down onto him. A feedback loop that made it all the more difficult to "play dead" as Buck grunted and heaved, driven mad with lust at this hot, tight vise about his prick that seemed to react to his every move, to make him feel better and better...

Lois Lane didn't need to feel the pressure build at the base of Buck's prick to know he wasn't going to last long. With all the **** she could muster, Lois broadcast into his brain:

CUM ON HER TITS

His eyes opened as he stared down at the reporter's half-tear-drop-shaped knockers. The tiny pink nipples were stiff and erect as eraser-tips. They shook with every thrust. Lois could feel his resistance. The instinctual urge to cum inside of her. Yet Lois Lane had no intention of needing to take a morning-after pill just because Buck wanted to sow his wild oats.

PAINT HER FUNBAGS WITH YOUR SPLOOGE

Buck shuddered as the suggestion was buried deep in his brain. Images erupted from his subconscious. Masturbation sessions. Long ropes of thick jizz sprayed over bare tits on screen. Something none of his girlfriends or whores had let him do in real life. Yet for Lois Lane, it was far preferrable to get that spray of baby batter across her cleavage than in her cocksocket.

DO IT. CUM ON HER. MARK THAT BITCH AS YOURS. WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO GET ANOTHER CHANCE?

The words seemed to reverberate in Buck's head, and to his mind they were his own thoughts, his own desires made manifest. Indistinct from his normal thoughtstream. She felt his resistance crumble as he pictured himself unleashing a torrent of pent-up sperm out of his pecker, to literally hose her breasts down with rope after sticky rope.

She allowed herself to stir...to moan softly...raised her back to thrust her titties up towards him.

LOOK AT HER. SHE'S FUCKING BEGGING FOR IT. HAVEN'T YOU WANTED TO CUM ON SOME TITTIES YOUR WHOLE LIFE?

With a **** wrench, Buck pulled out. Lois Lane resisted the urge to smile as his fist pumped his penis tightly...and watched through his eyes as a hot rain burst on her bare breasts. She quivered beneath him as rope after salty rope burst out onto her, glazing her breasts with a virile load...and as one drop struck her chin, the reporter could not resist the urge for her tongue to sneak out and taste it.

Which made Buck groan with fully satiated need as he strained to drain the last wriggling white drop from the end of his swollen glans. He panted, suddenly exhausted, as a ghost of a smile played on Lois Lane's lips...and she pushed into his mind.

Uh oh. What if she's discovered like this? All that DNA evidence...jail time for sure. Best to get her out of here...

Sudden panic spooked Buck, as the thought came to him out of nowhere. He glanced up at the camera. Evidence! Too much evidence! He had to get out of here...

And take Lois Lane with me. Maybe she'll be thankful. Imagine a grateful blowjob from the Daily Planet's greatest reporter.

Even though he had just blown his load, Buck's balls squeezed at the idea of Lois Lane sucking him off. The reporter had to control herself as Buck hurriedly put his dick away and then picked the limp "****" reporter up. He mentally planned a route out to his truck. Her little mental suggestions nudged him this way and that. A labcoat, since a dressed woman was less suspicious than a nude one. A wheelchair, easier than carrying her. Grab the harddrive from the computer on the way out, because if he needed to cop a plea it was best to have evidence of all of their wrongdoings...

The reporter smiled to herself as she was wheeled out to Buck's truck. His cum oozed down her chest, grew cold and sticky even as he sweated and drove them away. Not to his apartment, no...to the Daily Planet Building. That was a much better place to drop Lois Lane off. No one would connect Buck with her showing up naked except for a lab coat...

Lois Lane smiled as she planned her act of waking up. A part of her wanted to give Buck his reward for "rescuing" her from Lex Luthor's trap. With the hard drive he'd stolen, and his testimony, she could reveal the mad scientist's whole scheme, experimenting with red kryptonite on human guinea pigs.

I wonder how long this telepathy will last? Lois thought, as Buck's truck pulled into the Daily Planet's underground parking garage. Buck swallowed heavily as he stared at the beauty that began to "awake" in the side seat. Who opened her eyes and gave him that sweet, sweet smile that made his pecker jump in his pants. It was as if she knew what he was thinking as she reached over with her right hand to stroke his bulge.

"Hello," Lois Lane said, her first conscious words to him. "What's your name?"

"B-Buck," he said, with an idiot grin.

"Buck," she repeated. "You rescued me from that terrible place, didn't you? I think that deserves a reward..."

It was simultaneously the best and worst night of Buck's life. The night when he lost his job and got to experience blowing his load all over the Daily Planet's greatest tits...and in Lois Lane's mouth...and as she spit out his seed and accepted a wet napkin, the reporter wondered what other uses she might have for Buck.

But that is another story.