Epilogue: A Different Kind of Positive

The reporter waited in the chair in the waiting, her swollen stomach in her lap. She squirmed. It felt like she had just come back from the bathroom, and now she had to pee again. Even though she had just given them a urine sample. The twenty-week pregnant woman eyed the long walk across the waiting room. With a resigned sigh she tucked her smartphone away and grabbed the arms of her chair to heave herself up...

"Lois Lane?"

The pregnant woman looked up, still holding onto the chair arms.

"We have your test results," the doctor said. The woman wasn't smiling. "If you'll come with me please?"

The reporter waddled—actually waddled—past the bathroom, and gave it a wistful glance as she headed into the doctor's office. Somehow, this didn't feel like good news.

It's just for safety, Lois told herself. You have sex with a stranger, you get tested. Perfectly normal. You're pregnant, you have to be cautious. If anything, with all the sex I've been having I should have gotten tested four weeks ago when I started.

The doctor stood silently and watched as Lois settled herself back down.

"Your urine sample came back positive for gonorrhea," the doctor said, cutting straight to the point.

Lois mentally cursed herself. The pregnant prostitution had yielded a few clues to further her investigation, but now...

"We're doing some further testing, as there's been new antibacterial super strains that have been making the rounds lately," the doctor said. "But I'm going to inject you with a very powerful antibiotic. You're going to need to refrain from sexual activity for six to ten days, and then you can take an over-the-counter test. If you aren't clear, or if we call you sooner to let you know that you have a super-strain, you'll need to come back here for further treatment."

The reporter let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. She nodded.

"Please stand up. I'll need to inject this into your muscle."

Lois swore. She stood up, glad today that she wore the stretchy maternity pants with the elastic that rose up over her belly button. The reporter fairly fumed at herself. The stupidity, the irresponsibility of going out and fucking a complee stranger...and Blaze! A dull ache pierced the reporter's heart as she pulled her stretchy pants down to expose the pale cheeks of an ass that had been steadily filling out for four weeks.

"Panties too," the doctor said, and Lois didn't even hesitate.

I brought disease into our home, Lois thought to herself. I endangered our child. For what? A fucking article I haven't even finished yet? Oh God, she has to be tested too...

Which is when something slid between the reporter's thicker thighs and pressed into her cunny from behind. Lois Lane froze in shock...and then a very familiar pair of hands slid under her armpits and grabbed at the reporter's breasts.

"Gotcha, sweetmeat." Blaze laughed as her cock slid forward into her pregnant lover's tunnel.

"You...how..." Lois was too shocked to form a coherent thought...but her journalistic instincts grabbed on how. "How the hell did you..."

"I'm a master of disguise," the dickgirl pressed Lois forward, until the reporter had to press her hands on the edge of the exam table.

"So...I don't have the clap?" Lois said. "And what happened to the doctor?"

"She's out on her smoke break. And no, you don't have an STD. Do you really think I'd let that happen to my sweetmeat?"

A pink tongue ran up the side of Lois Lane's face...and the reporter turned and let her head roll back on her shoulder, so that their mouths could meet.

Relief flooded through Lois. Her fingers tightened on the edge of the exam table. She still had to pee, but other biological urges were making themselves known...and Lois moaned into her lover's mouth as the dickgirl manhandled her tits. The reporter needed a quick climax...

"Fuck me," Lois huffed as she broke the kiss. "Make me cum. Please. I need it."

Blaze showed Lois that broad toothy smile...the smile she only showed Lois...and said, low and throaty as a cat's purr.

"Don't beg, love. Never beg. I'll make you cum for me."

The dickgirl's hips began to move. Her right hand slid down, around the gravid belly where their child grew, between Lois Lane's legs. The reporter could feel herself pant with animal need as the dickgirl found her clit.

But after this, Lois vowed to herself as the dickgirl got to work. I have some serious questions for Blaze. Master of disguise my entire ass...