Epilogue: Clark Kent Meets Lizzie Long

Leaving Blaze impaled, Lois Lane left the club by the fire door...and drank in the cool air of the night as she slipped into someone more comfortable. Her bust and ass filled out, the already ripped clothes now bedecking the more fuller, more voluptuous figure of Lizzie Long...and then Lois realized she wasn't alone in the alley.

Clark Kent was buttoning up his shirt, tie still undone...but he had been so caught up in watching her transformation that Lois could still clearly see the S-shield beneath his shirt, and the black plastic frames of his glasses were still tucked into the front pocket of his jacket. With a sudden, terrible revelation, the two reporters both came to the same conclusion.

"Fancy...meeting you here," Lois said, feeling absurdly embarrassed now by the size of her bust. The tattered state of her clothes were still enough to keep her decent, but the ripped jeans and jacket left little to the imagination. Clark coughed politely and finished buttoning his shirt, began to fiddle with his tie.

"Likewise."

In a moment, Lois closed the distance between them, and began to tie his tie himself. Clark took the time to put on his glasses—not that he needed them, Lois knew. She didn't know why she felt so self-conscious beneath the gaze of those sky blue eyes, except that...well...she'd never known anyone that had seen her as both Lois and Lizzie.

"So...I suppose we should talk," he said as she cinched the knot into place.

"I suppose we should," Lois said.

"How about dinner? There's an Italian place a couple blocks from here..."

"Sounds good," she said with a smile.

Maybe on instinct, he offered her his arm. After a moment's hesitation, she took it.

They walked, and Lois did most of the talking for that first half. About that night at the club. About what had happened after that night at the club. A part of her hesitated, wanting to gloss over the details about her adventures with women...pornography...but Clark was too good an interviewer to miss the cues, and asked simple, penetrating questions, which Lois didn't want to offer any lies to.

Especially knowing who he really was.

They reached the place and got a small table near the back. Cosy and intimate. Ordered appetizers and wine...and Lois felt an absurd thrill in her stomach, a flutter of butterflies. Here she was, on what might be a date with Superman! Or at least, Superman's alter ego.

"Do you think I'm a slut, Supe—Clark?"

He reached out to touch the back of her hand.

"It's Clark. What do you prefer to be called? When you look like this, I mean?"

"Lizzie," Lois said. Her cheeks were burning.

"I don't think you're a slut, Lizzie. I think you're an adult woman who chose to explore her sexuality. There's nothing wrong with that. When I—" Clark paused, as if deciding what to say next. "You have to understand. I was born on Krypton. My costume—those are my clothes. But I was raised on Earth. As Clark Kent. This is who I am. But there are some things that I can do as Superman that I can't do as Clark Kent—and there are some things that I can do as Clark Kent that I can't do as Superman. Like have a quiet dinner with a beautiful woman."

Lois smiled. "Very smooth, Mr. Kent. I'm amazed you're single."

He gave Lois a sad smile. "I've been waiting for the right woman. Someone who...shares the same secrets."

The waiter arrived with the wine. Clark poured, just a half glass for each of them. They let the glasses touch.

"I take it to mean you haven't had much luck with Wonder Woman, then?" Lois said, after a sip.

"Didn't work out," Clark said. "Would it make you jealous if it did?"

Without waiting for her to answer, he leaned across the table and whispered. "Lizzie...Lois. I like you. I always have. How do you feel about me? Now that you know."

That stopped her. They had been dancing around the question, and here he was, putting her on the spot by just stating it so plainly, and...

...she slid her foot up, under the cover of the table cloth, and touched his crotch. They stared at each other without talking for a little while, as she traced the shape of that bulge...and he let her. All their cards on the table.

"I think," she said at last, in her best Lizzie Long voice, "that after dinner, we should go back to your place."

"Why my place?" Clark asked.

"Because if Lizzie Long goes to Lois Lane's apartment, people might put two and two together," she said. "But if Lizzie Long goes to Clark Kent's apartment, they're just going to think 'What a lucky stud!'"

She smiled. "Especially when I leave the next morning."

They took their time over dinner. Finished the bottle of wine. Caught a cab to his apartment. Stumbled into the door fumbling at each other's clothes, their lips locked, bodies pressing against one another...and then Lois found herself on the bed, with him on top of her...and she took off his glasses, and asked the question that had been on her mind all night long.

"Who do you want to fuck...Lizzie...or Lois?"

He smiled, the head of his cock pressed against her pussy, and he said with utter sincerity.

"I don't care what you look like...or what you call yourself. I want to make love to you."

And as he slid into her, Lizzie Long arched her back, thrusting her big tits in the air, holding one heavy breast up for him to suck on as his cock pushed deep...and perhaps, for the first time since she had let Lizzie out, Lois Lane felt at peace with herself.

Maybe...if he can be Clark Kent and Superman...I can be both Lois Lane and Lizzie Long.