End: Wonder Woman Is Coming To Fuck Lois Lane's Ass

Oh God, Lois Lane thought as she stared at the phone in her hand. Oh fuck. What have I done?

The reporter stared blankly, her drunken brain unable to fully process what she had done.

"Okay, Lane, don't panic." Lois said aloud to calm herself. "Just...just text her back that it was a mistake. A joke. You're drunk. And horny. You didn't mean to text her. She doesn't have to come over and..."

"Fuck your ass?" A melodious voice with the hint of a Greek accent said from the direction of her balcony. "Oh no, Lois. I do. I really do."

The naked reporter looked up at her, eyes wide. There, in the flesh, form buttocks clad in star-spangled shorts, golden brassiere lifting her generous bosom up to an impressive cleavage, dark hair held back by her golden tiara, stood the Princess of the Amazon.

"How? Why?" Questions blurted uncontrollably out of the horny reporter's mouth. Diana smiled and pulled off her boots.

"I can fly. And I'm aroused," Diana said, as she set the golden lasso of truth aside. The heroine's hands reached behind her and caught some catch, and the belt came off of her trim waist. "On my island, lovemaking is a simple matter, whenever two adults feel the mutual need. I've taken care of many of my sisters' needs, as they have mine. But here in man's world, so many of your are so...prudish."

The Amazon sighed with relief as the brassiere came off, and she pulled down, the whole outfit slipping down that body. Hard pink nipples, stiff and begging to be sucked, popped into view as the breasts, no longer contained, settled and shifted a little. Lois Lane's jaw hung slack she stared at the vision of feminine perfection that bent over to step out of her star-spangled shorts.

Amazons did shave, apparently. The pussy was completely bald, but the dark inner labia protruded far outside the Amazon's gash.

"Now then," Wonder Woman said as she folded her costume and set it upon her belt. "Have you any olive oil?"

Lois Lane blinked, but stammered directions for a cabinet in the kitchen. Too **** to ask herself why the Amazon would want it.

At least, not until a few moments later, when Lois was on her side on the bed, Wonder Woman beside her. One oil-slick finger squirmed knuckle-deep in the reporter's asshole, and Diana smiled as Lois squirmed and pressed her buttocks against the Amazon.

It was a long night. By the time morning came, the bottle of oil was empty...and Lois Lanhad experienced things she had never imagined before.

The terrible fullness of the Amazon's entire fist inside of her ass, Diana licking the stretched anus as she pressed on it from inside.

Cunt-licking lessons as Diana told her about her adventures on the sandy beaches of Themyscira, where she would dive naked except for a thin bit of rope that served as a belt, to hold her knife and bag as she dove for oysters, and then slice them open and pour them into a lover's pussy, to slurp them out.

Diana singing a soft song as she pushed her arm into Lois Lane's ass until the braclet disappeared, the reporter's abdomen distending slightly.

Sucking the sweet spit from Wonder Woman's tongue, after Diana had found the reporter's emergency wine.

The Golden Lasso mercilessly rubbing against the reporter's clit and labia, as Lois spilled out her deepest, darkest erotic fantasies, unable to leave anything out, even the ones about her coworkers at the Daily Planet...or her sister...

...then in the morning, the sensation of waking up pinned to the bed by one of Wonder Woman's muscular arms, the torrent of dark hair half-covering Lois Lane's face, her ass a ring of fire as if one of the bracelets was still in there.

Gently, Lois tried to lift the arm....and in her sleep, Diana half-turned and drew Lois to her, one heavy thigh catching and trapping the reporter's leg. Now, at last, as her face was pressed into Wonder Woman's breasts, Lois understood how a teddy bear or a body pillow felt...and she surrendered at last.

Her night out was over. Her day after lay ahead. Yet that was another story, and right now the Daily Planet's greatest reporter was lost in a cleavage designed by the gods of old, and all thoughts of the club, the missing women, and even Superman were very far away indeed.