Epilogue: Baby Crazy

Lois Lane woke up to find HOT PREGNANT SLUTS still playing on her smartphone. Bleary-eyed, she turned to see another pregnant woman, slamming her ass against a hard cock. The reporter recognized the stall. Nausea crept over her, and the reporter stumbled out of bed. Barely made it to the toilet as hot boil lurched up from the depths and she spewed out last night's dinner into the toilet.

"Th-three days in a row," the reporter groaned, and rubbed her stomach. Although still flat, Lois knew she'd missed her hours at the gym this week. HOT PREGNANT SLUTS was taking up too much of her time. Every spare minute of her day at work was spent researching the website owners, the models, and pregnancy in general. Lois had learned more about pregnancy in the last seven days than she had in the last twenty-seven years. Then when the day was done, she'd grab some takeout and come home and scour the website all night until she passed out.

"Not healthy," the reporter mumbled to herself as she stepped onto the scale. She frowned at the reading. 127. It had been 124 just a week ago, and 122 the week before that, when Lois had gone to the club. Lois frowned and pinched at her stomach. A little more skin than normal...she hoped her outfit would still fit. Her whole plan was riding on it.

The dress had fit Lois perfectly a month ago. An open-backed black cocktail number that tied around the back of her neck, and the skirt didn't even reach her knees. The reporter checked the time on her smartphone, not even bothering to turn HOT PREGNANT SLUTS off. The moaning and thudding of the pregnant women fucking was just background noise as she climbed into the shower with her disposable razor.

A long, hot shower. Lois ran the razor up and down her legs, blissfully ignoring the moans and screams of the knocked-up sluts she needed to find. Shaving her crotch took more time, because Lois was always afraid of nicking her labia...but when it was over with she smiled to see how smooth her mons was, and gave her little clitty a tap. The arm-pits were a bit of an afterthought, but Lois didn't want to make a bad impression...

It was critical that this date went well.

In the end, Lois had to squeeze to get into the dress. Her ass was never huge, but the skirt hugged her hips. The next hour or so was spent on hair, makeup, brush her teeth, let the wine air...he was supposed to be here at noon, and Lois wanted to make the best possible impression.

Right on the dot, the doorman buzzed him up. Lois turned off HOT PREGNANT SLUTS and slid into her heels, and just as she heard a knock at the door, she opened it.

Clark Kent stood in the door, in one of his characteristic rumpled suits. He looked slightly cross-eyed at the dark-haired bombshell in the tight black dress and heels.

"Come in, Smallville," she said with her best smile. Closed and locked the door behind him.

"You...said you wanted me to come by?" He stood in her kitchen, this huge, awkward, lumbering nerd of a man. Lois felt like a cat with a mouse.

"Something like that," she ran her hands up and down his lapels. "Let me take your coat."

Somewhat sheepishly, he let her slide his suitcoat off those broad, muscular shoulders. Kent stood a head taller than Lois, but she could feel his eyes on her ass as she hung his coat up in the hall closet.

"So...what's the occasion?" He looked her up and down, without letting his gaze linger.

"I need your help with something," she said. "A story I've been working. I've gone about as far with it as I can on my own...and now I need a partner. Let's have a drink."

Lois sat him down at the kitchen table. There were two glasses there—her best crystal—and Lois poured a glass for both of them. He took the nearest glass by the stem, holding it gingerly as though afraid it would break.

"What are we drinking to?" Clark asked. Behind the black plastic frames, his eyes were piercing.

"To us," she said, still smiling. Their glasses clinked. They sipped; it seemed to Lois that he did little more than taste his wine before he set it down. She followed suit...and then leaned forward, and gathered his big hands in hers. A little flush came to his cheeks, just from that contact.

"Smallville...Clark," she took a breath and let it out. How many times over the last couple of days had she run through this scenario in her mind?

Just say it, Lane, Lois told herself.

"I need you to impregnate me."

His mouth fell open...and then his jaw tightened. Lois could see him struggling to grasp the concept...and then she began to tell him everything, absolutely everything, all the things that she had gone through over the last couple of weeks since finding HOT PREGNANT SLUTS, and...

"...I need to go undercover, Clark," she said, voice shaking. "I need to be a hot pregnant slut! But I don't...I don't want to just get pregnant with some random stranger's baby. I want to have a child with someone I trust...a friend...someone I can depend on...someone I can..."

Her lip trembled. She couldn't say the word. The L-word. But he seemed to understand.

"You're ovulating," he said. No question there. Lois gulped.

"I...I mean I think so. My cycle's been a little off but...but I haven't...had my period...and I'm not getting any younger. I mean, I'm not asking you to...if you...if we could just," Lois swallowed. "It can just be sex, Clark. If you don't want a relationship. That's..."

"No," he said with utter finality. Her heart seemed to skip a beat. "No, I won't let it just be sex. If you want me to impregnate you Lois, I'll do it...but only if you agree to be my wife."

His whole demeanor seemed to have changed while he had been sitting there, listening to Lois talk. She swallowed, taken aback...and then his hands moved forward, and Lois couldn't stop them. It was like trying to overpower a locomotive, he was so strong. His hands clamped onto her legs and slid up her thighs. The tight skirt pushed up and Lois gawked as he exposured her naked, freshly-shaved puss.

"Well, Lois?" He asked.

"I...oh Clark...I..." There were stupid tears in the reporter's eyes, falling over her cheeks. "You mean it?"

"Absolutely," he didn't stop, pulling the dress over her hips. Lois raised her arms and let him pull it straight up over her shoulders, up and off her body...and there she was, naked in front of her, pink nipples already hard, pussy wet.

He stood...and carried her, as lightly as he might have a child, towards the bedroom. Lois clung to him, looking over his shoulder to where he had let the dress fall to a heap on the floor. A part of her couldn't believe this was actually happening. She was...she was going to get pregnant. And he wanted to marry her. And...

Clark Kent laid her on the bed. He stood over her and began to disrobe. The tie came off. The belt. Shoes. Pants slid down, to reveal hairy legs as thick and solid as tree trunks, and old-fashioned white boxers. He unbuttoned the shirt, revealing a mass of chest, superbly muscled, with a dark triangle of hair that ran all the way down his hard, well-defined abs...and he stood there, in just his socks and his boxers and his glasses.

Lois smiled. She opened her legs, not caring how lewd it must look. Reached down with one hand and spread her labia with her fingers.

"You must want to be a daddy pretty badly," Lois joked, and half-kicked herself. Here she was, trying to be sexy...

He took off his glasses. A look of recognition crossed the reporter's face.

He took off his boxers. A look of horror followed.

The biggest human cock on the planet was thirteen and a half inches. Superman's was bigger. Unrestrained, the dark head was even with his navel...and it was thicker than the reporter's wrist.

He dropped down to his knees. His head nestled between her legs, and Lois realized she was shaking. The tongue was warm...hard...and it pressed into her pussy deep. She bit her lip, but the reporter quickly realized Clark Kent wasn't eating her out. Just getting her wet and ready to accept him.

"Clark," she felt weird, calling him by his name now. "I don't...I don't know if I can take that."

He ignored her. Diligently, he worked his tongue all around her slit. Inside, spitting, getting her cunny wet and slobbery...and Lois blushed hard, her ears burning, body tense and shivering with excitement as well as fear when he raised himself...his tongue tracing a wet line over her stomach, kissing her navel. Up between her breasts, to kiss each of her nipples in turn. Along the hollow of her throat, up to the corner of her jaw, and then down to her mouth.

Superman stared into Lois Lane's eyes. The tip of his mammoth prick pressed against her cunt.

"Super-saliva," he said. "Is the best lubricant in the world."

Their lips met, and his cock pressed forward. Lois grabbed onto his back, nails breaking against his invulnerable skin. From her perspective, it was like being slowly broken in half. It didn't matter how tight her pussy was, against that impossible strength; it didn't matter how small her hole was, compared to that massive girth. With implacable power and gentle slowness, Lois felt her cunt break beneath his super-cock.

It pushed forward, and Lois Lane's eyes bulged, her body trapped beneath his as the cock buried itself deeper inside of her. Her womb had lifted, but even so there was patently not enough space inside of her. Walls stretched slowly but painfully, the once-tight muscular chasm that was her birth canal pushed to its limit. She wondered, very briefly, if this was what giving birth was like, only in reverse. Lois cried out as she felt a sharp pain as the battery ram pressed against the back of her pussy.

"You feel so good," he said, after breaking the kiss. "I've...I've wanted to do this for so long...I don't know how long I can hold it."

He began to move.

Once, after getting her own apartment, Lois Lane had bought one of those fucking machines. The kind that had a dildo on a pole, driven by a motor. It wasn't a lover, and it wasn't perfect, but it was relentless in pure mechanical efficiency. It usually took Lois far too long to set the thing up, and then get into position...but when she did...she could stay there for as long as her body could hold out, knowing that the penetration would never stop.

Fucking Superman was like that. Except there was no off-switch. His fat cock pulled out, and Lois felt like her whole reproductive system was going with it, the tight pink channel gripping his impossibly girthy shaft. When he pressed it back inside, Lois felt like someone was punching her in the gut, rearrangeing her insides. The reporter grunted in pain and pleasure, sure that her kidneys were taking a pounding, and that she'd probably be pissing blood before the night was out.

Yet a deeper part of her thought that it would be worth it.

Because she kept cumming...and cumming...and cumming... Her hips ached as the minutes turned into hours, thighs quivering, heart thumping until she feared it would burst, but she could feel the frothy spunk spilling down her thighs. She clung to him, whispered perverted promises in his ear, rubbed her tits against his hairy chest, and her kept pounding her on and on with a relentless need...and the afternoon war on and all Lois could do was hang limp beneath him, and he flipped her over onto her stomach so that he could pound her harder and deeper...she felt the tremble of excitement that ran through his body, hear the slight change in pitch as he got closer. Her whole body was like a ragdoll, fucked almost into oblivion, and yet Lois was super-sensitive to how that impossible third leg seemed to grow even stiffer...until it lifted the limp reporter off the bed...and came.

Lois managed to let out a groan as in a single breath all the space at the end of her pussy filled up in a moment. Her aching, battered cervix felt as though it was being pressed inside out by the liquid pressure of the sperm trapped inside her. The reporter grinned like an idiot, too tired to move, thinking about how she had done it.

She was going to be a hot pregnant slut.

Then Clark eased her down onto her side.

"Don't worry," he said. "Plenty more where that came from. I won't blow so quickly this time, either."

The newly impregnated reporter gave out a little mewl of disbelief as her pussy, already fucked nearly numb, began to realize that they were just getting started.

I'm not going to be able to walk after this, the reporter though as Superman held up one of her legs, so that he could slide his fat cock in and out of her busted cunt. She thought back to part two of her master plan. I hope the club has handicap stalls.