Epilogue: Date With Icon

It was a small black tube dress, much more daring than Lois Lane would normally wear. She held her purse in her hands, felt the cold air on her thighs and shoulders. No bra...no panties either. BBCinderella wasn't a site for people who were going to chicken out; it was for adults who knew what they wanted.

The car pulled up in front of her. A Rolls-Royce Ghost, elegant yet expensive. She opened the door...and met user "Iconic" face to face for the first time. Tall, proud, broad of shoulder in his tailored suit, with brown eyes that seemed to bore into her. His whole expression was one of confidence, poise...and, with a slight nod of his head, approval.

"BBChick," he said, a statement not a question.

Lois smiled and slid into the passenger seat.

"Iconic. A pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise."

Door shut. She fastened her seat belt, and they were off, into Metropolis traffic.

"I've made reservations for dinner," he said. "I hope you don't mind."

Lois swallowed. The powerful rumble of the car's engine could be felt during the acceleration. There was something more under the hood than just stock.

"To be honest," the reporter said, putting on her bravest face. "I'm happy with skipping straight to the end of the evening, if you are."

He said nothing, until they paused at a red light. Then her turned toward her, the gaze appraising.

"Is that all you want?" He asked. "No getting to know you, no human contact?"

Lois met his gaze. "I want your cock inside of me."

His lips turned up at the corners in a slow smile.

"Then we want the exact same thing."

He could afford a hotel, but they pulled into an alley. He sat on the hood of the car, and Lois pulled up her skirt, revealing the freshly-shaven pussy, pale white in the moonlight. His cock sprang forth...and Lois tried to swallow her drool. It was exactly as thick as it had seemed on screen. Fat and pudgy as a beercan, not very long but so damn thick...in a moment she was straddling him, and almost idly he pulled down the top of her dress, so that her small breasts burst free. He rubbed big brown thumbs on the nipples as Lois rubbed her cunny against his swollen head...preparing herself for the ordeal of getting this big piece of black meat inside of her.

Too late, she thought to ask: "A condom..."

"Unnecessary. Also, I want you to stop shaving," he said, his voice a bass rumble. "Down there. I prefer women who are unshaved. It traps more of the scent..."

Lois grinned at him.

"You want to do this again?"

"Of course," he said. His brown eyes bored into hers again. "My people mate for life."

For just a moment, Lois Lane's heart stopped...and in that moment, his hips rose, with a strength that was unbelievable. Lois Lane's eyes widened, her whole body frozen as the swollen brown down of that cockhead punched into her pussy...and then his big hands were circling her waist, thumbs and forefingers almost touching...and he began to push her down...and up...and down...

Lois shook as her fucked her like a pocket pussy, her pink cunny clamping onto his dick of its own accord. Her hands reached down and found those massive forearms...not to stop him, but just to better balance herself. She leaned forward, those tiny tits in her face as she arced her bag, easily the angle of penetration. Lois began to pant, so damn full of black cock...it was like a dream come true, better than she could imagine, whole body quaking as some deep, primal programming was fulfilled.

"You need to stop whatever birth control you're on," he said. "Eat healthy. Exercise regularly."

"Yes, yes!" She gasped. Her ass was slapping down into his lap now, working with him to thrust that dick deeper inside of her, shins braced against the hood of the car. Her whole body felt hotter, and in that moment she would have done anything he asked...sucked his black balls, licked his asshole, let him cum on her face or bite her breasts. Lois had never felt anything like the overwhelming wave of desire that sped through her now, all those weeks of playful teasing and imagining on the internet finally coming to fruition...and all the nervousness that had built up washed away...

He grunted, once...and Lois stifled a scream as something hit her deeper inside her pussy than she had ever felt, with such **** that it felt like she had been stabbed. He grunted again, and again, and each time Lois felt a similar stab...the pain shook her out of her reverie, and the reporter realized, belatedly:

He's cumming. I can feel him cumming inside of me.

Lois had never felt that before. Not with anyone. Oh, she'd taken a load or two, but she'd never felt the moment of ejaculation...just the added wetness. This black man was...something else.

His hands moved to the small of her back. With that easy, eerie strength he stood up, turned...and laid Lois on the hood of the Rolls-Royce, her legs spread wide.

"You haven't orgasmed yet," he said, absently. "We'll have to correct that, to increase the odds of insemination and conception. Four or five climaxes should do it."

Lois Lane's eyes couldn't get any wider...but she noticed, that despite the fact he had just cum, his big black cock was still stiff as a steel rod.

Viagra...has to be... Lois told herself. Yet in her mind's eye, she was running through all the fantasies she had ever had about black men. Of having a brown baby or two in her belly. It was crazy...irresponsible...but the sex was out of this world.

"Breed me," she whispered.

"What," he said, and now his smile showed big white teeth, perfectly even. "Do you think I've been doing?"