Epilogue: Lois Lane, The Daily Planet's Best-Laid Reporter

At the Daily Planet, Clark Kent was the first to notice the change in Lois Lane's demeanor. She smiled more often. Much more cheerful, though tired most days. He noted how she moved to a standing desk, and sometimes winced when **** to sit. Saw her clothes begin to grow a little more daring. Skirts shrank. Shirts showed more skin. Heels got a little higher.

Nothing he could really talk to her about. Nothing that was any of his business, really. How she dressed, what her extracurricular activities were. Perry White, the editor of the Daily Planet, was more than happy with her work. Yet there was one thing that Clark noticed that no one else in the office did...or could.

The smell.

Oh, Lois Lane was scrupulous about keeping clean, but his supersenses were more sensitive than a bloodhound's. He could smell when she was menstruating, what she had for lunch...and now, he could smell them on her. The men. It clung to her skin, the essential oils and bits of DNA hanging around her like an invisible cloud that even her careful scrubbing and perfume couldn't quite eliminate or cover.

A part of him wanted to ask her about it, except they weren't... He grit his teeth. They weren't together, like that. Clark wasn't sure how she would react, if he asked. Or if Superman asked.

'Why Miss Lane, what have you been up to?' He mockingly said to himself in his Superman voice. 'You know, if you're that **** for companionship...'

Clark Kent shook his head. No. He couldn't make that kind of pass. But...he had to know.

That night, seven o'clock on the dot, she left. Unseen, he slipped out of the office behind her.

As a reporter, he'd done his fair bit of tracking. It was easier for him, with his powers. He could keep an eye on people even in crowds with his X-ray vision. Follow their footsteps and heartbeat by hearing from blocks away.

He paused outside a restroom as she conducted a quick, thorough, well-practiced enema. Watched her from a distance as she stuffed her panties into her purse. Daring, to walk around at night in a skirt without underwear, even in Metropolis. His heart thundered as he followed her from a discreet distance, keeping out of sight.

They were in the warehouse district. Old buildings, most standing empty and unused, others cut up into loft apartments, legal and illegal. Lois was headed toward a club in one of them...and then turned, suddenly, down an alley. Clark frowned as he approached, and nearly gagged at the smell. Lots of people had stood here...done things here...to his super-senses, the alley reeked of sex. It was a grime soaked into the bricks, which even the night air and the rain couldn't wash away.

Heart sinking, he walked to the end of the alley, half-knowing what he would find...

...and not expecting the smiling Lois Lane to be waiting for him just as he turned a corner.

"Smallville!" she said with a grin. "I thought that was you! Following me, uh?"

His eyes widened behind his glasses. "Lois...how..."

She reached up and straightened his tie. "Your reflection in the mirror. You're good, Mr. Kent, but you should work with a partner. You're not used to keeping out of sight. Anyway, you're here now. I guess you're wondering where I disappear to, huh? Wanted to find out what I've been up to?"

He took a breath, and let it out. Caught out.

"Yes," he sighed. "I don't...I was worried about you."

Lois's smile widened. "You're sweet. Well, as you might have guessed..."

She turned, and exposed the holes in the wall. Filthy graffiti was written there, nasty and degrading things.

One of the holes was occupied. Slim hips, round buttocks, the glimpse of freshly clean, pink in the middle of the great peach. The dangling testicles and limp penis, tied up in some kind of harness.

"This is Rose," Lois said. She gave the pale ass a little slap, the flesh quivering. Pulled one of the cheeks apart. The pink anus seemed to wink at him.

Her other hand went to Clark Kent's crotch. It broke him out of his momentary reverie.

"Lois...wait..." he said, but she was already unzipping his pants.

"Clark," she said, her voice sinking into a husky whisper as she fetched out his prick. "You were worried about all those men fucking me in the ass, weren't you?"

He swallowed hard and nodded. As powerful as he was, he felt suddenly powerless to do anything while she was touching him like that...stroking him.

"Did it turn you on?" She asked. "Thinking of me getting fucked in my ass, over and over? All those strange men stretching out my little hole with their cocks, pumping their loads in me? Sometimes they'd leave the condoms in, and I'd have to pull them out. Sometimes two of them would get the idea to fuck me at the same time...or three or four of them would just stick their fingers into my gaping ass-pussy..."

As she spoke those lurid words, she stroked...and Clark Kent's cock rose, until it was hard as steel, so big that Lois could scarcely get her fingers around the base, the great purple head round and hard.

"I like you, Clark. I need to get my ass fucked on a regular basis. I think you might help me out on that."

Still stroking his cock, Lois Lane's other hand came up with a small bottle of lube. She poured the cold gel over his dick, and began to massage it in.

"Do you want to do that Clark? Fuck my ass?"

There was something about the way she said it. Lois knew what buttons to press, and Clark felt ready to explode.

"Yes," he said, in a hoarse whisper.

"But before we can do that...I need you to show me that you can do that."

She tugged at his cock. A tank could not have moved Clark Kent, if he didn't wish it, yet he moved forward. Guided by Lois Lane toward the soft ass in front of him.

"Fuck that boy-pussy, Clark. Fuck it good. If you want to get with me, you have to get with my friend..."

It was early. The free use hour would not start for a while. No one showed up too soon for such an event. So there was no one except Lois Lane to see as Clark grabbed those boyish hips and pressed the tip of his cock against that pert pucker. To hear Rose's moans as that thick cock stretched her slutty little hole. Or see Lois Lane finger her own asshole, cheeks flushed as she watched Clark Kent slowly press forward, a little harder and deeper, his body almost shaking as he struggled to contain his lust...and Rose was shaking too, a white dribble leaking out of her pathetic little prick as the big cock crushed against her prostate, knees wobbling as even the experienced bottom struggled to contain all of that super-dick...

...and Lois Lane knew as Clark Kent's heavy sack slapped against Rose's taut, swollen little marbles, that she would need to feel that herself.