Epilogue: Lois Lane, Single Mother of Three

For the first three months, in the brief snatches of sleep she was allowed, Lois remembered the pain of giving birth alone in the dark. Of climbing up the long, dark shaft, babies clutched to her with a makeshift sling. The long lonely ride to the hospital where doctors waited with questions she couldn't answer. Darling, pink-skinned babies with jet black hair and violet eyes, just like her own.

Lois named them Lyle and Lyta.

Three children under one year of age was not a task for a single parent. Perry White was a saint in granting her maternity leave, and then sick leave and personal leave when that had been used up, doing puff pieces from home. Her recovery was longer than it had been, help harder to find—Clark was a saint, coming be nearly every day when he could. It was six months before the Daily Planet's star reporter returned to the office, and when she did...

Most of them would only see her in the tight pantsuit that emphasized her new curves. The way her hair had grown longer, approaching the middle of her back. The smooth, blemish-free skin and excited smile as she saw her colleagues again, catching up on everything.

But there were dark rings under her eyes that no makeup could cover. Her face was thin, bone poking through at wrist and shoulder. The most perceptive might have noticed the little sag in her belly, which would need surgery to bring back to its former tautness; others would mentally whistle at her wider hips and more generous ass, jiggly and nearly double in size from her previous toned glutes.

Yet Lois felt all eyes on her biggest changes, right out in front. The bloated marvels that were her tits.

With Lily, Lois Lane's breasts had experienced a modest growth—nipples grown dark and puffy when milking, breasts swollen and veiny, moving her up a couple bra sizes. But with the twins Lyle and Lyta...

Her chest jutted out in a shelf, the saggy milkers kept in shape by a custom-ordered maternity bra. In terms of volume, they were tremendous, each easily as big as her head, the dark nipples sucked raw by the greedy mouths. Without support, however, they sagged low on her chest, nipples just an inch or two above her belly button.

The single mother didn't want to think what they would be like when her milk stopped. She was seriously considering implants, at least to give them more shape, but that wasn't an option while she was breastfeeding...and her milk was still coming in strong, day after day. Even Lily, who had moved on to solid foods, sometimes tried to latch on while sitting in her mother's lap, nestled between her warm, massive tits as Lois worked on her laptop.

She hated to be away from the babies. But she couldn't afford to be a stay at home mother. Money was too tight, and her sister had her own career. Only Clark Kent was there for her, the rock she could rely on.

Lois saw the way he looked at her, too. In the moments when he thought she wasn't watching as she pumped her milk, or breastfeeding the babies. Clark was raised a good man, shy almost to the point of prudishness. But Lois had noticed the bulge in his pants some nights. The way their friendly hugs lingered a bit. How he blushed every time she kissed his cheek goodbye.

Without Clark Kent, Lois would not have been able to return to work at all—might have had to go back on welfare, move in with her father, do freelance pieces for little pay, her whole career flushed away...and she was determined, somehow, to make it up to him.

The opportunity came that first day at the job. Perry had given her a separate office, with a door, for privacy while she was breastfeeding. Clark came in and helped her set up her computer, going through boxes of awards to be put on the wall, pictures of the babies.

When she brought out the breast pump, he turned to leave. She caught his wrist.

"Smallville," she said softly, her little nickname for him. "Stay. Please."

He turned, blue eyes watery behind those glasses. Swallowed nervously. Lois walked right up to him, pressing her breasts into that broad chest, and shut the door.

"You know the fridge at home is full of milk. I don't need any more for the babies. What I need is a little—relief."

She unbuttoned the shirt, pulling it aside to reveal the pale white expanse of her maternity bra. A Wayne Industries special made with nanomaterials; Clark had actually gotten her in touch with their brassiere division. The new mother pulled down the special patches to expose her nipples, already dark and leaking.

His endurance was superhuman, but she could see him waver in some inner struggle.

"Oh Clark," she gasped. "Don't make me beg. You've been so good to me—"

And that was it. He bent down on one knee, a tall man kneeling before her, and took the right nipple in between his lips, sucking gently...urgently...and as the milk began to flow, Lois shuddered. Feeding the babies had always been a sensual experience, but it had been six months without a cock, and the babies left her no time to even consider another adventure...

Lois Lane grasped his head to her breast, basking in the first sexual contact in half a year. She vowed it wouldn't be the last.