Epilogue: Her Second Victim

Gotham was cold and dark. The wind ripped off the bay and through the alleys, picking up stray trash and fluttering the skirts of prostitutes. From on top of the building, crouched between the gargoyles, the sky reflecting off the low-lying clouds on a moonless night, she could almost see it all.

It was a news beat that suited Lois Lane's mood, at least for the moment.

Six robberies in as many days. In a city of millions, even the Batman and his family couldn't be expected to cover every high-profile bit of crime. So she had come here on a stakeout, waiting with her cameras. Trying to ignore the insistent piece of meat between her legs.

She had avoided jerking off. Even in the mornings, when it was like having a third leg slapping against her belly. Lois had taken to strapping it down with a belt, at least until the special underwear she ordered came in, the padded ones transvestites wore to help hide their bulges. As it was, more than one of the girls at the office had been giving her the eye like she was developing a belly, and she couldn't exactly tell them...

There was a breath of silence behind her. Lois spun, pointed the camera and clicked.

A lanky figure smiled at her, six feet of blackness with the zipper down to show her cleavage. Dark goggles over the eyes, curved up like a cat's. Little ears on the helmet, hair tucked down out of sight. Lois swallowed heavily, feeling the belt creek as her cock throbbed to life.

"I'll be needing that film," Catwoman sauntered toward her, hips swaying.

"I don't suppose you'd like to consider an interview?" Lois said. "I'd heard you were one of the good guys, these days."

"What the Bat doesn't know won't hurt him," Catwoman grinned wider. "But what you know might hurt you..."

Claws glinted in the streetlights below. Lois used the camera to block, felt the impact. Her leg kicked out by instinct, tripping the thief. Taking them both to the ground.

Jiu-jitsu does well on the ground. Find a limb, get a hold, lock a joint. Lois Lane was far from being an MMA-level fighter, but she knew a few moves...and maybe Catwoman wasn't on top of her game, exactly. One wrong move is all it took to have Lois on top of her, the villain's arms behind her back. The reporter's cock rubbing against the leather-clad ass.

"Okay...maybe we can work something out?" Catwoman said, squirming...but Lois had locked her thighs open with her own legs, and was applying her wait. The cock throbbed against the belly, swollen impossibly hard. Lois could feel the ball of need pulsing deep between her legs, demanding release...

"Yeah, okay," Lois said. She unzipped her jacket, reached under her shirt and removed the belt. Carefully, she tied up Catwoman's wrists. "Truth is, I'm a little backed up. So I'm going to get some relief with your kitty...and you can go on and do whatever it is that you were going to do." Provided you can still walk after.

"Hmm, that sounds fun," Catwoman said, fingers already scrabbling at her bonds as Lois pulled down her pants, exposing a round moon of pale ass. "Deal. Though I don't really go in for women...wait...what the fuck is that?"

The tone changed suddenly as Lois freed her python and began to feed the head of her cock into the tight, warm, sweaty triangle of hair between Catwoman's legs. It took a few moments of fumbling and adjustment, and Lois still wasn't really at a good angle for penetration when the villain found her voice again.

"Jesus, just...stop! Look, let me get on my knees. Then you can fuck me with that monster, okay?"

Not without misgivings, Lois slid off of Catwoman's legs...wary that the thief was going to attack...but instead the Gothamite villain raised her ass in the air, like a cat ready to mate. The shreds of Lois Lane's belt fell away as she brought her hands out in front of her.

"Now...give kitty her cream." The villain purred.

Lois settled in behind her. She rubbed her cock against the pussy...and then began to guide it in.

"Fuck...is that...all you?" Catwoman hissed. Lois said nothing, focused as she was on not blowing her load immediately. The woman's cunt was tighter and hotter than anything, squeezing down on her cock so hard...and it felt so good!

"Oh fuck...baby I...I don't think I can fit any more..."

Lois looked down. Maybe six inches of her cock was inside, the pink rim of the pussy tight around her throbbing shaft. It occurred to her that was a downside of having a big dick: it wasn't always possible to bury all of it in a hot pussy, even a wet and willing one.

"Okay," she said, swallowing heavily as she tentatively put her hand on Catwoman's ass, getting a good grip. "Going to start moving now. Tell me if...if this hurts or..."

She let the sentiment die, and began to fuck.

Somewhere down in an alley, a tomcat pinned a female and her screams yowled through the night.

Up on the roof, Selina Kyle, the Catwoman, was doing her best imitation.

Backed up for weeks, denying herself and her cock, now that Lois was finally permitted to let loose she felt the last shreds of her restraint evaporate. Her cock slammed in and out of Catwoman's pussy like drilling for oil. Black claws scrabbled at the roof, leaving lines of scratches as Lois threw her full weight into the pounding. Even if the villain couldn't take the full length of the cock, the sheer girth of the fat prick was stretching the pretty puss past endurance.

Lois fucked without style, lost in the insatiable need to unleash a steaming gusher in Catwoman's cunt...and within a very few minutes she did just that, pushing her cock in as far as she dared blasting the villain with her spunk.

"W-wow," Selina said, huffing gently. "Bit b-backed up there? I almost wouldn't mind doing that again some time...yow!"

The reporter flipped the villain onto her back. The black thighs spread and Lois put her hands down on either side of Catwoman's head, staring down at her. The hard-on hadn't gone down at all.

"Not...not done yet." She puffed...and began moving again.

It was slower this time, less frantic. The immediate need had died down as that hot ball of lust inside Lois had shot out the length of her porn-star cock, deep into the thief's fertile depths. But there was more left. She could feel it, gnawing at her, and didn't know when she might get this opportunity again.

Catwoman for her part smiled.

"Okay hon," she said. "Let's see if this time you can make me cum."

Lois slid her hand down on the Catwoman's exposed pussy, one hand pressing against her clit. The thief moaned, pressed her own hand against the reporter's own, and guided her fingers. They rubbed together, Lois on her knees, bucking her hips to slide her cock in and out, in and out as she pressed and rubbed. It was hard to see the woman's body react, with her costume, but Lois could feel how wet she was getting, see the color rise in her cheeks. It was like being a dildo, a living sex toy, the Catwoman's hips rising to meet her thrusts now, guiding that hand...

This time, Selina came first.

Not as hard and hot a spurt as the first ejaculation. But once more that grunt and sigh of relief, the ecstatic moment that made the reporter's toes curl in her shoes as the semen shot out the length of her cock, buried in that tight pussy. And this time they both rested together for a moment, panting and moaning.

"One...one more time," Lois said, practically begging. Selina rolled her head to stare at her with shock and surprise. Her lips curled into a smile.

"Got another one in you?" She said with delighted surprise. "Go on then. Go for the hat trick. Make your mark."

There was no help from Catwoman this time. The kitty was too tired. She lay back and let Lois grab her thighs, pushing and pulling her pussy on and off her schlong, the fat prick wet and slick with the previous two ejaculations. The last little but of cum was churning in her, even though her urethra burned from cumming twice in such a short time. It was something that she had heard about from prisoners just out of jail...the **** need to clear the pipes, to empty themselves entirely. It was something behind mere lust, but a physical necessity.

Minutes ticked by, and the sweat was dripping from Lois Lane's brow and armpits, her shirt soaked with it, breasts swamped and itchy where the bra was sticky and biting into her undersides. Catwoman was laying back, moaning softly, a pussy getting pampered. Lois felt like she could do this forever and never get closer to cumming again.

She tightened her muscles, trying to push more blood into her cock. To flex it, make it move. Began to push faster, harder, grabbing and squeezing her lover's thighs, making her hips swing, feeling the pressure build up inside her again slowly...achingly slowly...replaying every sexual fantasy in her head, whatever did it for her, narrowing it down to one image, one thought, one need...and she felt her lungs seem to freeze as she pressed her cock in as deep as Catwoman's pussy allowed and more through **** of will than anything else unleashed that last burning burst of seed deep inside of her.

Lois Lane sank back on her haunches, letting her cock slide out of the wrecked pussy. Catwoman didn't move, twitching gently.

"Thanks," the reporter said, wholeheartedly. "I needed that."