End: Unsatisfied

The Goth collapsed onto his ass. His skinny chest was slick with sweat, and he panted in the darkness. The spent cock hung limp and useless. Lois Lane nudged it with her toe.

"Pathetic," the reporter grumbled, as she dug in a pocket for a tissue to wipe his cum from her ass. "You were supposed to fuck my pussy."

"And you're not supposed to be a skank," Rat shot back. "What the fuck happened? Ever since you saw that shrine with the idol, you've been all...weird."

Lois Lane tossed the jizzrag in his face as she pulled up her pants.

"Maybe I got my priorities in order," she said, and left him there in the dark.

As her heels clicked down the corridor, Rat's words ate at the reporter. What he said was true. Ever since she'd come to this club, everything had gone weird. She had been acting out of character. Then that encounter with the shrine, the idol...Lois had felt that black spark. Could still feel something inside of her. Like an itch that couldn't be scratched.

Her ass hurt. Embarrassment burned inside of her. Stupid tears threatened to spill out at any moment, and Lois hugged herself as she walked alone. Aching. Empty. Lonely.

When she came to the elevator, just across from a black door, Lois Lane didn't hesitate. She stepped into the ancient steel cage and pressed the button for the roof.

On the ride up, a sweaty hand dug the smartphone from her pocket. She practiced the call in her mind. The words. Her tone. Even as butterflies fluttered in her stomach, she knew she had to get the words just right.

The cage rattled to a stop. It opened. Lois Lane stepped out into the night, beneath the moon and stars. The cool air whipped at her hair.

Lois Lane held the phone before her lips. Closed her eyes.

Poured out her heart.

Like a prayer.

There was the flap, like a flag in the breeze. A shadow across the moon. Lois Lane looked up into the night sky...so bright, from the city lights. She squinted to see what approached. A bird, a plane...no...her lips curled into a smile.

Superman's boots touched the roof just briefly long enough to wrap his arms around her. To crush her to his chest. Then they were up, up, and away...

Lois couldn't wait. She'd left her shoes on the roof. In mid-air, she shimmied out of her tight pants. Panties long gone. Her bare legs scrambled over his hips as they rose, and while she clung to him with one arm, the other fiddled with his pants.

Gripped his penis tight. Guided his cock to her dripping snatch. Impaled herself on him with all the ferocious eagerness of a prom queen for a king, the head cheerleader for the star quarterback, the vapid bitch in the Hallmark movie for the rugged small town man who was about to teach her the meaning of Christmas with his dick.

"What got into you, Lois?" Superman said, even as she sank down onto his stiff prick. Stupid tears flowed from her eyes and she smiled as she felt him stretch her inner walls out, just as she always imagined he would. Clung to him as they swooped through the air, high above the streets, one big hand clasped to her bare ass, while the other cradled her to his chest.

The story came out, as they fucked in midair. She could feel how hard he was for her, how much he wanted her, but Superman's voice was calm, his questions measured and collected. As a reporter, Lois Lane could only admire his technique, even as her body moved like a bunny in heat who had found her perfect mate.

Superman listened. He moved. Both hands on her ass now, and they were far out above the ocean. Then he asked her a question.

"What's your favorite position?"

"Cowgirl," Lois said breathlessly.

He rolled over onto his back, and Lois sat up. She rolled her hips, his cock so deep inside of her. One hand slid up under her shirt, to cup her breast. They moved together like that. The anticipation built and built, and as cold as the night was, his body was warm, and the wet slap of cock and cunt together was hot with friction...and she began to pant. To whine, deep in her throat. She could feel it start, the crest, the excitement building, but she needed to hear him say it...

"Here comes our baby," he said and arched in mid-air, one hand clasped on her hip so that she wouldn't fall off as that superhuman prick pushed deeper inside of her than ever before.

It didn't kiss her womb. Yet Lois Lane felt every hot spurt of his virile seed erupt inside of her. She cried out in an ecstasy she had never known as an electric wave ripped through her body, spine arched, toes curled. It was perfect...it was too perfect...

...and it was only the beginning.

"We should really do it a few more times," Superman said, as the reporter collapsed against his chest, still impaled on his prick. "Just to make sure it takes."

Lois Lane mumbled something. It might have been "I love you." It might have been "Don't stop. Never stop."

Superman took it as both.

In her lair deep beneath the club, the demon Blaze stared into the mystic pool. She watched the end of Lois Lane's night out and frowned. This wasn't at all what she had intended. This was supposed to be Lois Lane's night of utter ruin and defilement, not the little push she needed to turn into Superman's perfect breeder bitch.

"Damn you, Rat," Blaze hissed as her vision turned to her unwitting pawn. The Goth had picked himself up, tucked in his pathetic prick, and made his way back toward the shrine. The demon's eyes narrowed as he arrogantly tossed the jizz-rag at the idol...and then her lips curled in a grin.

A black spark arced forth. Rat screamed...and a moment later a very confused, very horny, and terrible fertile Goth woman stumbled away from the shrine.

"Well, might as well get some satisfaction out of tonight," the demon said as she rose to go fetch her unwitting minion.