End: Wrap Her Legs Around Them Both And Don't Let Go Until Ivy Impregnates Them Both

The reporter's legs opened wide—and scissored closed against Ivy's buttocks, drawing the plant-woman and her double-strap-on in deep. Lois Lane's arms wrapped around Harley Quinn, pinning the criminal clown's own arms against her sides, and Lois grabbed her own wrist. They were trapped there together.

"If I'm going to get pregnant—and I am going to get pregnant," Lois said, crazed hysteria edging into the reporter's voice, "Then you're going to get pregnant with me! And we're both going to go through our pregnancies together, and Ivy can fuck us whenever she wants you can fuck me whenever you want, and I'm going to fuck both of you whenever I damn well please—"

The reporter's voice rose in pitch as Ivy instinctively humped. Harley Quinn shook, whether in fear or sexual excitement or some weird combination of the two Lois couldn't tell, but even her trained muscles couldn't overcome the reporter's sudden fanatical strength. The events of the night had pushed Lois Lane over the edge, and the reporter could feel her grasp on things slipping.

She'd failed to find the missing women.

Failed to find who was behind this club.

Had been fucked, poisoned, dressed like a whore.

Now she was in a threesome with two costumed criminals, and Lois Lane knew if she wasn't pregnant already from Poison Ivy's weird pollen, she was probably going to be...and she refused to do that alone.

Also, she desperately needed an orgasm.

Her face shot forward, lips pushing against Harley Quinn's....and slowly, as if she had gotten the joke, Harley began to kiss her back. Ivy kept humping, unable to move very far, but steadily pushing the double-barrelled zucchini into her bitches' twats. They moved together then, as a threesome, and there were no more words, only the animal grunt and slap of flesh, the building heat, the roughness of the warts on the gourd scraping against Lois Lane's most sensitive spots, and as the excitement grew inside of her and Harley's tongue slid out of her mouth to lick her ear...

Lois screamed like a mandrake pulled from the ground. Her whole body tightened, crushing Ivy and Harley to her. The reporter's climax set off the other two women, and within moments Harley was screaming obscenities in her ear, and then Ivy's ass was quivering and...

Most ejaculations cannot be felt. A tablespoon of liquid jizz, deposited at the end of a warm, wet tunnel; a woman is lucky to feel the additional wetness as it seeps back out. Ivy's pollination felt like a dustbuster shoved in Lois Lane's cunt venting in reverse. Heat and pressure and a terrible awareness of a mass of sperm cells being blasted as deep inside her cunny as it could go, and the quivering cervix didn't know what to do as the yellow-white plant-like jizz coated every surface inside of Lois Lane...and what made it better for Lois was to know that the exact same thing was happening inside Harley Quinn.

They collapsed into the dirt then, all three of them sweaty, dirty, exhausted. The reporter slowly unclamped her cunny, and was unsurprised to see that the plant-dildo had been crushed by the **** of their exertions, so that she had to pick pieces of it out of her happy but sore vagina.

"So..." she gasped, when she could talk. "Girlfriends?"

"Yeah, okay," Harley managed. "Fuck, I think my pussy's numb."

"That'll wear off soon," Ivy promised. "I guess it'll take a few weeks before we know if you two are really pregnant. What are we going to do until then?"

"I've got a bottle of tequila at my place," Lois offered. "The bed is only a double. Bit of a tight fit."

"Hmm," Harley said. "There's that bed store on 56th street...we could steal you a bigger bed."

"Oooh, one of those with a pillowtop!" Ivy said. "But we'll need to get new sheets to go with it...and a truck to move it."

"So we steal a truck, then we hit the store..."

Lois Lane closed her eyes as they planned out the crime. A part of her knew she should stop them, but...

Fuck it. Her night out. Why not go a little crazy? The stores were all insured, right?

"I can drive the truck," she offered. "I learned how to drive a big rig for a piece I did last year. Even got the license."

Which is how, in the early hours of the dawn, Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn were asleep on Lois Lane's brand new bed as the bleary-eyed reporter typed up her article on last night's exciting fire at the mattress store.