Epilogue: Incorrigible

The next week, Angie showed up in a red Lamborghini Countach and they drove out to a winery for a tasting. They laughed and sipped, listened to the sommelier and sampled the cheese. Angie bought a case which Lois had to hold in her lap the whole way back because it wouldn't fit in the car's ridiculously small trunk. Ordered delivery from the Thai place down the street, and talked about the pairing.

They killed three bottles before midnight, and Lois Lane was holding her knees against her shoulders as Blaze slowly slid her cock into the reporter's ass for the first time. Lois shivered as she saw the red light of the digital camera recording; Angie had remembered to bring the camera and the tripod this time. Lois felt the world spinning around her as the cock slowly pressed inside...maybe it was the **** but Lois swore it didn't hurt as much as she thought it should have...and all the while, Angie was staring down at her, with those dark eyes...except sometimes...just sometimes...they looked like they had rolled up inside her head. Pure white, with no pupil or iris.

Angie was gone by morning, leaving Lois three bottles of wine, a sore ass...and a thumb drive with a sticky note on it.

Until next time.

XXX -B

The thumb-drive had three video files on it. Lois didn't need to look at the thumbnails to know they were of all the times they had made love.

Made love? Lois thought, wondering where the term had come from. She squirmed, her ass feeling weirdly sticky. More like I got fucked.

It was a long week. Lois was distracted for most of it, tracking down the young man that a very married city counselor was having an affair with and getting his statement, cross-checking the information he gave her with certain real estate deals in a section of the city due for renovation, the issuance of certain building permits, and the non-disclosure of financial ties...and the best part was, the construction company involved was a LexCorp subsidiary.

Yet when she went home, sometimes late in the night, Lois would pour herself a glass of wine...and that put a familiar warmth in her belly. An itch that needed scratching.

Which is how she found herself watching the videos, one after another. Touching herself. Hand in her panties, rubbing at her clit, sipping the wine as she watched those fat balls pump inside of her. The volume turned down low so that the neighbors wouldn't hear her recorded screams. She watched herself writhe beneath the dickgirl, her fingers scratching at Angie's back, legs wrap around her ass so that she couldn't pull out...

Except Lois found she couldn't get off. Oh, the videos were hot, and she was in the mood. Climax, however, simply didn't happen. No matter how long she placed with herself, fingers dripping and starting to prune, Lois always had to shut the laptop and go to bed, because tomorrow was another day. It got so bad that Friday night, when the article was complete and turned in, Lois gave herself an enema and decided to finger her own ass while watching Angie fuck her...and it was the same result. It was so weird to feel her finger squirm around inside her asshole, trying to push and pull in time with the video, to feel her heart thunder in her chest, nipples hard, sweat dripping down...and just not be able to cum.

Saturday morning, Blaze was there to greet her. She had coffee, and donuts. Lois didn't even wonder how the dickgirl had gotten in the door.

"Get dressed, sweetmeat," Blaze said. "We're going to tour three microbreweries today."

"Let me guess," Lois said dryly, as she peeled off a sweat-slick nightshirt and reached for a bra. "After that, we come back here and make some home movies?"

Blaze gave that damnable Mona Lisa smile. "Well, if you want..."

"You're incorrigible," Lois said. Yet in truth, the reporter knew she was looking forward to it.