Epilogue: Past Due

The waiter never came for the dishes. Lois Lane panted on the floor, pinned beneath the bulk of her belly. She wasn't sure she could move.

Her tits sagged to either side, down onto her arms. Glorious swollen sacks the size of small cantaloupes. For now, gravity left them puddled on top of her. But most of Lois Lane's attention was given to her belly.

It looked bigger than forty weeks.

The swollen orb stood out at least a foot from where her abs had started at the beginning of the evening, the navel popped and standing out like a third nipple. Lois could see the sag, the belly having dropped down, ready to give birth.

The devil's fingers crept into the palm of the reporter's right hand. Lois clasped them.

"I think we overdid it a little," Blaze said. Her hair was a wild mess, and she had shed all of her clothes during the last couple hours of their tryst, Lois always wanting to eke out one more drop, to drain those demonic balls dry and see how big she could get. "You look a little past due."

The reporter smiled. Her pussy itched. She could feel a kind of cramp building inside of her, and knew that Angelica was right. Forty-two weeks, maybe forty-four. Lois didn't have a good eye to judge. How often do you see a woman a month overdue?

She licked her lips.

"Got another one in you?"

Angelica Blaze smiled, knelt down to kiss Lois' forehead. "I think if you swallow another drop, you might pop."

Lois shifted her head, bringing her lips up to press against the demon's nose.

"Wasn't thinking of swallowing. I was thinking how they say semen helps induce labor..."

The hot breath from Blaze's lips washed over the reporter's mouth. "You want to give birth tonight?"

"Why not?" The reporter told her. "We've gone this far."

Gently, they moved the gravid reporter so she could rest on her side. Blaze squeezed in beside her, the big spoon. Lois lifted her leg to provide access for that fat cock to enter her snatch. The demon slid her dick into the tight but well-greased passage.

"Did you...want to talk about anything? Baby names? Living arrangements? Marriage?" Blaze whispered, one hand reaching around to grope one of the reporter's milk-swollen tits.

"That will all sort itself out," Lois reached back and slapped her lover's ass. "Less talking, more fucking."

And they lost themselves in the rut. It was less urgent than their first mating, Angelica Blaze infinitely more gentle and considerate, sliding her cock in and out, not too deep or too fast, holding up Lois Lane's leg with one hand, mouth planting kisses along her back and neck as she slow-humped her pregnant mate.

It was Lois who had to urge her to thrust harder, faster. To reach around and maul her bloated breasts, squeezing the nipples until milk ran out over the dickgirl's folders, for her love-kisses to turn into light bites, for the cock to punch deep as Lois' free hand reached around her swollen stomach to rub her aching clit.

When the reporter's moans finally turned into a long-drawn out "OH!", her pussy squeezing tight—then and only then did Blaze unleash her last, final gout of jism from her drained and exhausted reservoirs, balls pumping, urethra burning as the overused channel shot out its final load.

The rested there in the afterglow for a moment, tired and happy, both of them completely fucked out.

Then as one they turned and looked down at the spreading pool that they were lying in.

"Okay, so my water broke." Lois said. "Let's get me to the hospital."

With a supernatural surge of energy, the demon launched herself to her feet, gathering clothes and calling the waiter to get a cab...

Lois looked down at her belly, wincing at the first contraction. She traced a small circle around her navel.

"Lily if a girl," she said. "Lyle if a boy."