End: Not Long

Minutes ticked by in the stall. Not long as far as the clock went, but Lois had no clock, no smartphone to tell her the time. The naked woman sat on the toilet seat, the souls of her feet dirty, every sense attuned to the sounds and smells of the public restroom. Pussy wet, ass clutching instinctively as she thought of the old woman's orders...to come back with an ass full of cum, or don't come back at all. To prove herself to be a bitch, earn her tail, or...

...or go back to my normal, boring life hunting for missing women at that club, Lois thought, her shoulders drooping. In truth, the reporter had almost forgotten about her first goal tonight in the whole excitement of her unexpected sexual encounter, the thrill of exhibiting herself, of walking naked for blocks. It was as though that little voice in the back of her head had unlocked some deep-seated need in Lois Lane, and subtly guided her to the exact right circumstance to make the most of the reporter's newfound kink.

The reporter frowned. When she put it like that, it seemed suspicious. Maybe she had made a mistake, maybe...

The sound of a bus outside interrupted the reporter's thoughts. She sat up on the toilet seat, ears perked as the door opened...the rubbery tread of workboots on the tile...making their way down, past the urinals, past all but the last of the stalls...and opened the door.

Immediately, Lois Lane's eye went to the hole drilled in the wall, wrapped with tape. Her body shook, butterflies flit in her belly, gooseflesh rose all over her...the sound of a zipper descending...and then...

The gloryhole was three inches in diameter, about three feet above the floor. Big enough that a tall man could press his hole soft cock and balls through the hole. It flopped out, dark brown skin, uncut, the purple head hidden in the folds of the foreskin.

Lois shifted on her seat, her fingers touched the warm flesh—not her first cock—and she gently peeled back the foreskin. A bit of that spoiled-cheese smell wafted up to Lois, a touch of white smegma visible in the folds where purple glans faded into brown skin. The reporter didn't even hesitate as she bent down, ass still seated on the toilet, and ran her tongue up and over the head.

It tasted like every other cock Lois had ever sucked. Stale piss, the ammonia whiff of cum, the gritty reek of dick cheese on her tongue—yet this time, as the voice in her head uged her on, Lois felt an erotic thrill throughout her entire body. This was so wrong—so degrading—and she loved it. Loved what it was like to just let go and do something like this, to stop being the prissy reporter and just be the slut, the dirty bitch she had always, in her heart, half-wanted to be. To live the sex life that most people only dreamed of.

Her lips slid over her teeth as she brought her mouth down around the head, tongue slobbering on the soft tissue as it began to swell. With her free hand she lifted and tickled his balls, running one finger on that extra-smooth, extra-sensitive hairless patch right at the base of the scrotum...and it wasn't long before the meat grew erect, and she held the shaft in one hand, gently stroking it with thumb and forefinger as her mouth bobbed on the head...

...but she wasn't here to taste his cum.

Off the toilet in a moment, Lois held onto the slippery cock with one hand as she turned around, stepping up and over her arm, then bent her knees and guided the dick to her butt. It was tricky, doing in that way...but her customer on the other side, who couldn't see what she was doing but could feel it, hissed in excitement as he felt something much tighter than a mouth press on the end of his dick.

Then he was in her...and Lois panted, shivering with excitement, not believeing that she was doing this, taking a random cock up her ass. He was unable to thrust, so it was up tot Lois to move. She braced one bare foot on the toiler seat, grabbed the toilet paper holder with her left hand, and began to move her hipswhile rubbing her clit with her free hand.

Eyes closed, the reporter bucked her hips. Her violated ass burned a little as she fucked him, and not for the first time tonight Lois was glad of her policy of an enema before she went out clubbing, because now she was clean and ready, and the hot, hard meat slid in and out of her greased by her own saliva, her asshole hugging tight to that flesh.

It was weird, and perhaps if Lois had been less aroused it would have been terrible, like dogs fucking through a hole int he fence—yet right then and there, that was what Lois needed, that image, and she squeezed her anus and pumped her hips harder, making the divider shake as she slammed her butt back into it, moaning loud enough that everyone in the bathroom could hear her...and when, at last, he spent inside of her, she only knew it wen the softening meet slipped out, leaving a hot, slimy trail.

Instinctively, Lois reached back with her fingers to scoop the cum back into her ass. She needed that...needed to show her mistress...

...and was not prepared when another cock jammed itself through the hole and stabbed her in the buttock.

It was two hours before dawn when Lois Lane walked back the way she had come. Too early for school buses to be running, or people to go to work. She didn't see a soul as she walked back along those same streets, her asscheeks clenched tight to hold the gooey load.

There had been five of them, in the end...and her ass was sore, inflamed, pulsing. Perhaps she had even overdone it a bit...but as Lois came up to the door, she could not help but feel a certain pride. She was a real bitch now. This is what her whole night out had been building to—and Lois knew the terrible satisfaction of someone who had met and overcome some deep personal goal.

The only thing she didn't understand was why the voice inside her head was laughing so hard...