End: Stuff The Vibrating Smartphone In Lana Lang's Pussy And Suck Her Clit

"I want you to know," Lois Lane said, as she clicked through to activate a very special app that she reserved for sexual emergencies, "that I wouldn't do this for just anybody."

The redhead was flushed, her ass braced against the edge of a porcelain sink, and her monstrously engorged demonic pussy dripped slime onto the floor. Lana Lang was literally on her toes, and whimpered like a bitch in heat. The reporter couldn't leave her to suffer like that.

Which is why she clicked the Vibe app.

The vibrate feature was common to all smartphones. The vibe app just activated it. Immediately, the slick black rectangle with the rounded corners began to buzz in the reporter's hand. Except there was no incoming call. Just a constant mechanical agitation until Lois turned the app off or the battery ran out.

The reporter grinned as she rubbed the vibrating phone against Lana's engorged pussy. The redhead shuddered and moaned wantonly.

"Fuck...yes...yes...more..." Lana said, her eyes glazed over, nipples stiff. Lois grinned.

"Oh, you're going to get more, Lana," Lois assured her. "See, this model isn't just water-resistant...it's water-proof! I could drop this in the Amazon river for a month and fish it out and it would still run. So I reckon it should last at least ten minutes in your twat."

Lana was beyond words as Lois rubbed the thin edge against the huge, horse-like slit—and then she pressed it in, as easy as feeding her credit card into a slot at the gas pump. The great, thick pink lips swallowed the phone easily, and sucked at the reporter's fingers as she pushed the pulsing phone in deeper.

The result was volcanic. Lana Lang shook from her head to her toes. Her face twisted in a rictus of mingled exstasy and relief, and the reporter watched, fascinated, even as a hot stream shot out from the pussy and drenched her wrist. Lana's new pussy, it seemed, was a squirter—and exquisitely sensitive.

To Lois Lane, it brought out Lana's beauty in a way she had never considered before. It made her curious how much more the woman could handle.

Which is why the reporter bent down to wrap her lips around the thick, throbbing clit at the apex of Lana Lang's monstrous muff. It was thicker than the thickest nipple Lois Lane had ever seen, even on a pregnant woman...and at the touch of her lips and tongue, Lana nearly collapsed. Her toes left the ground, and the redhead's entire body was suspended off the ground, ass on the edge of the sink, her hands held the sides in a white-knuckled **** grip.

Lois Lane's own pussy burned with barely-repressed need as she sucked softly on the colossal clit. Yet somehow, touching herself seemed less interesting than to touch Lana. To hear her animalistic whimpers grow in frequency and pitch as the Kansas farmgirl moaned through a chain of climaxes, each building on the last, to reach higher and higher peaks, as all semblance of control and decorum faded away.

How long they stayed like that, Lois didn't know. Not until those fat netherlips slipped around her wrist, until the pussy-juice dripped down from her elbow, and the buzzing, vibrating phone finally stilled, its battery utterly spent.

Only then did Lois removed her mouth from the clit....and Lana slowly unclench her body. Eyes rolled up in her head. Mouth slack and tongue extended. Fucked into utter idiocy.

It was obvious to Lois Lane that she couldn't leave her friend like that. Nor could she do any more investigating tonight, with the phone dead and Lana in such shape.

The reporter slid her own panties up Lana's legs, to keep the phone wedged into that huge cunny. With one arm slung over her shoulder, Lois could just about stagger Lana out of the bathroom, then out of the club. To all onlookers, it was just one more white woman who'd had too much to drink, her girlfriend helping her out.

They weren't far wrong.

By the time the cab brought them to Lois Lane's apartment building, Lana Lang had recovered enough to walk on her own two feet—although she was, the reporter noted with a smile, quite discomfited to feel the still and silent smartphone still wedged deep into her pussy. Unable to extract it in public.

The reporter was smug as she took Lana by the hand and dragged her inside, taking the long route up to her apartment.

"Th-thank you for that," Lana said, when they were finally alone. "I don't know what came over me, I was just so...needy...and I didn't do anything for you..."

"Well," Lois said, as she pulled down her pants and stepped out of them. Wet droplets ran down her inner thighs as she watched Lana extract the smartphone from her cunny. "I think I know a way you can repay me, Smallville..."

Neither woman slept that night. Nor did Lois discover what happened to the missing women, or who was behind the DMN app. These were questions she was determined to find the answer to...but not on this particular night out.