End: Whip Cream

"Hold her ass open," Harley Quinn said, her eyes wide and smile wider. "I got an idea!"

Poison Ivy settled her ass on the back of the reporter's head. Pinned down beneath the plant-woman, Lois could hardly breathe as Ivy's fingers pulled the reporter's asscheeks apart. Then they worked closer. Stuffed as Lois Lane's pussy was, her cunny clenched tight as Ivy's fingers reached the rim of her anus. The reporter's heart hammered against her breastbone as the long, slim fingers gently pulled the anus open.

Wide enough to get two fingertips in. They wiggled against the ring of muscle, and Lois fought the urge to squirm. Fought a lot of urges as Ivy tugged the asshole wider. Spit oozed down into the open orifice as the villain worked patiently, first one finger-tip and then the other. Until the reporter's asshole was a gaping hole that showed the pink insides of her colon.

The rattle of a can caught the reporter's attention.

"Birthday girl wants her cream pie!" Harley said with a giggle.

"Go for it baby," Ivy said, as her pussy leaked into Lois Lane's hair.

The hiss of the can. The cool, soft, squishy feeling as the cream poured deep inside Lois Lane's gaping asshole. Lois forgot to breath. Face flushed, hard nipples pressed against the floor, her pussy stuffed until it was about to burst, Ivy's pussy juice leaked down past the reporter's ear and dripped down her cheek and Lois knew exactly how she felt. A part of her wished she could see it. The little swirl as Harley's hand made tiny circles. Like the final swirly bit on a cone of soft serve ice cream.

Then Harley buried her face in the cream-filled ass. Ivy laughed as her lover pigged out. Pulled her fingers wider until Lois Lane's anus strained to its limit. Beneath Harley's butt, the reporter moaned and quivered. The tongue of the Clown Princess of Crime rimmed the inside of Lois Lane's ass, ran over Ivy's fingertips, dipped deep into the cream-filled colon.

"You know, Ivy..." Harley said at last. "I don't think I can eat all this cake myself."

Lois couldn't hear Ivy's reply. Just the wet moan as they kissed. Then the feel of a second tongue that slid along the crack of her ass, as Harley's tongue tickled her taint.

A part of Lois Lane, probably the part most blasted by Ivy's chemicals, never wanted her night out to end. Yet all things have to end. In time, the whip cream was gone...or too deep in the reporter's ass for their tongues to reach.

They left her there, holding her own asshole open. That was Ivy's final order.

"Keep it gaping until morning," the villain had said. "The suggestive state will wear off at about six. Thanks for showing my girl a good time, Lane."

It gave her a few hours to think. To feel. To wonder why she, Lois Lane, the Daily Planet's greatest reporter, didn't have a relationship like that. Somebody to be crazy with. To do things with. Even crazy things. With her forehead pressed against the floor and her gaping ass pointed to the darkness, the reporter vowed that would change. Whatever it took, she would find someone that would eat whip cream out of her gaping asshole.