Epilogue: Eight Weeks After

The cock had not gone away. That had involved less of a life-change for Lois than she thought...new underwear, fewer tight skirts and pants, remembering not to pee standing up when there were other women around. She still got erections at inconvenient times...like when Barbara Gordon pulled up in front of the Daily Planet on her motorcycle, wearing low-rise jeans and a long black jacket.

Word in the office that Lois was dating a woman hadn't taken long to spread. It's hard to keep secrets in a newspaper. Most of the folk had been good about it, though Clark Kent looked a little crushed when the gossip finally hit his ears. Still, as she climbed onto the back of the bike, slid the helmet on her head, and held on tight, the Daily Planet's greatest reporter had to admit...

...she was in love.

Or lust. She had been afraid to so much as touch her cock in the eight weeks they had been dating, preferring to let it go down on its own...which seemed to take longer and longer these days, especially when she thought of her Batgirl in those tight pants. Barbara had teased Lois about the conditioning, but they had both decided not to experiment with that.

In fact for the first two months of their relationship, both women had been very careful to avoid making it about sex at all. They tended to part the night with a kiss that left the reporter hard and throbbing, but neither had taken it any further than that.

They zoomed through the streets of Metropolis, Lois leaning in so close she could smell Barbara's hair, feel her breasts under her black blouse. They had to move as one, turning into the curves, keeping the bike on balance. When Batgirl opened up the throttle the wind whipped past them and it was like it was just them together.

The bike crawled into the underground parking garage of Lois Lane's apartment building. Up the elevator together.

"So...what did you want to do tonight? Go out somewhere to eat? There's this Thai fusion place I've been wanting to try..."

The redhead smiled at her. "I was thinking we might go out for breakfast."

"Oh." Lois blushed. "I mean, ah...I didn't...I don't have any condoms."

Barbara leaned forward. "It's okay. I have a surprise for you."

The elevator never seemed to take a longer time to reach Lois Lane's floor than it did that night.

Lois unlocked the door, and let her girlfriend enter first. She wasn't even sure when she had started to think of Barbara as her girlfriend, yet here they were. As she shut and locked the door behind them, a part of her wondered whether her Batgirl thought the same way.

"I've been thinking about your condition," the redhead said, taking off her coat. "I thought we might try a little experiment tonight. I've put a lot of work into the prep for it."

"Oh?" Lois said, kicking off her shoes. She shivered a little as Barbara bent down to unbuckle her knee-high boots.

"Oh yes. Six weeks to heal. Stopped my birth control too."

The reporter's mouth went dry. Her eyes were captivated by that perfect ass in those tight, low-cut jeans, showing just a hint of pale skin on the lower back...and something else, something Lois didn't remember.

Barbara kicked off the boots and was making a bee-line for the bed when she pulled the shirt up over her head to reveal her new tramp stamp.

The rugged, Gothic letters were graceful, clear and distinct—they could have spelled the name of a black metal band or of a loved one, living or dead—but what the letters spelled out was CROATOAN.

She didn't even have her bra off when Lois tackled her from behind, carrying them both onto the mattress. The Batgirl giggled as the lust-maddened reporter pulled down the low-cut jeans, and tore off the small grey panties with her teeth.

Batgirl hadn't shaved, her pussy a dense forest of lightly-perfumed red curls, packed tight, pink slit wet and dripping. Lois had no memory, then or after, of removing her own underwear. The terrible erection simply tented her skirt, which was torn off with a snap of buttons, and then she was in her.

It was different from that first, lusty mating beneath the club. Barbara Gordon was free to move, and did, meeting the reporter's hip-thrusts with wild abandon, using her strength and skill to guide her lover into positions pleasurable for both of them. For her own sake, when Lois reached her first peak, pounding into Barbara from behind like a maddened dog in heat, she unleashed eight weeks of pent up cum in the Dark Damsel's fertile snatch...

...and that was only the start of the evening.

Barbara shifted, catching Lois by surprise, and spun around on her cock. The reporter winced as the skin twisted in the tight pussy...but as the word disappeared, she felt the uncontrollable need to breed die down. Still hard, still ready to cum, but pinned beneath her lover's weight.

"How do you feel?" Batgirl asked, helping Lois out of her shirt.

The reporter gasped, not sure where to look, her eyes straying from Barabra's eyes to her lips to her small tits with their spray of freckles, to the hard abs...

"I think I need to cum again," Lois said, weakly. She swallowed. "I love you."

Barbara grinned. "I love you too. Now for part two of the experiment...I want you to try and visualize the word...as if it's hanging right in front of your eyes..."