Epilogue: ++

Six weeks since Lois Lane's night out. Six weeks of getting wined and dined. Of surprise sex. Sometimes Lois woke up from a wonderful dream and found a hole in her panties, pussy sticky and full, a pleasant soreness all throughout her body. Normally, that would have been a relationship ender. Except Blaze...had different standards for what was acceptable behavior.

Why do I put up with that? Lois thought, as she stood at the sink in her bathroom and stared down at the little plastic wand. Ten minutes can be an eternity, when waiting on a pregnancy test.

She'd been weighing herself every day. Watching what she ate. Lois lifted up her shirt and turned to the side, to look at the profile of her abdomen in the mirror. Let one hand run down the flat plane of her stomach. Tried to imagine what it would be like, if she was...

"How could I not be?" Lois whispered to herself.

All the sex. All that cum. The first time, in the restaurant, that had been a moment of devil-may-care madness. Every other time...Lois knew the risk. She could have re-started birth control pills, taken a morning-after pill, asked Blaze to wear a condom, gotten an IUD. Except she hadn't. A part of Lois had welcomed the risk. Had been curious to see if it would happen. That little taboo excitement thinking that maybe this time, it would be it.

Plus, Blaze was into it. Utterly devoted. Insatiable. She wasn't like those men who would cum and go. Blaze stayed hard even after she came. Kept fucking and kissing until Lois came...and came...and came again. The heat and excitement were almost infectious. Lois found herself on her back, legs, spread, as that crimson cock left her pussy a constant dripping, sticky mess, always slick with her sperm. Sometimes at work she felt rivulets of Blaze's cum run down her thighs and Lois had to excuse herself to run to the bathroom.

Poor Clark could sense it, too, even though he never said anything. Lois had hinted she was seeing someone. He'd put a brave face on it, but she could tell he still held a torch. If she was knocked up though...that might finally cool his ardor.

Lois licked her lips. Of course, the question was if it would cool Blaze's. The demonic dickgirl had been so focused on getting Lois pregnant, the reporter wanted to know if that was all Blaze was interested in. If, once the goal was accomplished, Blaze's interest would wane.

"Am I just a womb for you?" Lois asked herself as she stared at the little plastic test. "A jizzrag for you to use and discard? Or is there something more?"

They talked, when they weren't fucking. Blaze had centuries of experience. Lois wasn't sure if it was even all true, or how much might be lies mixed with truth. Yet the demonic dickgirl had been there during the French Revolution...the Renaissance...ancient Egypt...China, under the legendary Yellow Emperor. Had bartered for the souls of empresses and prostitutes, had degraded men and women wholesale, committed sins there were no words for.

It was absolutely foolish for Lois to think that she could change her. It was more likely that Blaze would change her. Maybe she already had.

Then a familiar pair of dark horns appeared behind Lois Lane's head in the mirror. A pair of red hands slid underneath Lois Lane's arms and settled on that flat stomach. Ran down to run through the carefully-trimmed pubic hair, to pull the labia apart. Instinctively, Lois spread her legs a little wider, bent her knees, pressed her ass back...and she felt the familiar sensation of that hot, smooth cock rub against her cunny. Even though Lois Lane still ached down there from last night's pounding, she felt that itch deep inside, the excitement, the need.

"Morning, sweetmeat," Blaze whispered as she teased the reporter's hole. "What's the good word?"

Lois Lane looked down at the pregnancy test.

++

"I'm pregnant," Lois said. She stared into the mirror, to see Angie's face...and for a moment, the mask slipped. No poker face. No Mona Lisa smile. A childish look of absolute glee and wonder distorted the demon's features. A broad grin that even centuries of emotional repression could not resist. It was like Christmas morning.

The cock slipped into Lois, and the demon trembled with excitement. Lois grunted as the dick pushed in, hard and fast, but the hands slipped up to grab the human woman's stomach, as if she could feel the pregnancy.

"Sweetmeat, that's...so fucking hot!" Blaze whispered, her voice a hoarse whisper of **** need. "Do you know that pregnant women are so sexy? And they need so much more fucking. Like all the time. I'll have to teach you how to summon me. Don't want mama to go without her cock..."

Lois braced herself against the sink as Blaze began to hump with a kind of desperation that Lois had never felt. She saw her own rueful grin in the mirror. Told herself this was a positive development.

At the very least, she didn't have to worry about Blaze losing interest.

But what will Clark Kent say?