Epilogue: Progress

Boba Tea. Wonder Woman had opted for a sundress and hat. Mary Marvel a little more conservative, jacket and jeans. Zatanna had opted for athleisure garb, tight-fitting, with a ballcap and sunglasses. Angie Blaze had opted for her cleanest SLAYER t-shirt, the one without the ripped-out sleeves, and a pair of black slacks over boots.

"So," Diana said, holding her cup. "Dish."

This was their fourth meeting in as many weeks, not counting the baby shower, and the "ladies" all looked oddly attentive.

"It's been a slow week," the demonic dickgirl told the assembled heroine. "Lois is in her second trimester, you know. 28 weeks pregnant, about twelve to go. We've got the crib together, and the carseat; I think Lois is freaking out a little because it's hit her that this is really happening, and in a few months we're actually going to be parents and have three babies and...everything."

She sipped her tea.

"And?" Zatanna said. "What have you been up to in the bedroom?"

Mary Marvel blushed furiously at this remark, but it was obvious what the women had come for...and Angie leaned back and smiled, remembering one of their latest exploits.

Lois Lane stared down at the yoga mat. She had to go for the maternity yoga pants. As she entered her seventh month, she needed the elastic front to hold her growing belly...and though the skin on it was still taut, the pregnant reporter had gripped the skin at her hips lately and worried about the inevitable. Lovehandles. Bingo flaps. A second chin. None of which had happened yet, but if she kept putting on weight...!

She bent her back downwards, going from "Cat" pose to "Cow," at least according to the pregnant yoga instructor on the screen. Lois hated her immediately. One of those perky California voices, visible muscles on her arms and legs, claimed to be seven months pregnant but with a belly as small as when Lois was four months. That was triplets for you. On her hands and knees, bending her aching back downwards, Lois was surprised that her belly button didn't touch the yoga mat.

"Now, straighten your legs and lift up your butt...this position is called Downward Dog..."

The chipper voice irritated the reporter as she **** her screaming thighs to straighten. She could actually feel her swollen stomach against her thighs as she glance down between her ankles.

Every little bit helps, Lane, the reporter told herself. Gotta keep limber somehow...burn those calories...don't want this pregnancy to completely wreck your figure...

She worked her way through the poses. Even this little bit of stretching was causing her to sweat. In some positions, her swollen womb pushed up against her diaphragm, making it hard to breathe. Lois understood now those women who simply became couch potatoes late in pregnancy. It would be so much easier to just lay on a couch all day, eating brownies and ice cream, binging on television shows and letting her body get along with the whole business of babymaking. Except she didn't want to end up one of those obese slobs that hit two hundred pounds and never managed to fit into their pre-pregnancy clothes again.

Not that Angie would mind, Lois thought, with a sudden shift in moods. I'll bet she'd be happy to fuck me no matter what I weighed, just as long as there's still a wet pussy for her to stick her cock into...

At this point, the pregnant woman was in a squat that the cheerful bitch on screen called "Garland." Feet shoulder width apart, so far down her bigger, jigglier ass was almost brushing the yoga mat, her huge gravid gut hanging forward, with her swollen tits resting on top of it. Hands brought together as though in prayer, and she was struggling for balance, her pussy so wide apart, asshole clenching and unclenching instinctively.

There was a ripping sound as a seam gave way. Cool air on her crotch.

Lois closed her eyes and counted to five, not wanting to give vent to her anger.

The last time she had been in a position like this, she had been impaled on Blaze's dick. In truth, a change had come over Angie the last few weeks, as the triplets had seriously started to grow and the reporter's stomach had seemed to leap out an inch a week, so that the reporter already looked full term...and with three months yet to go. Nowadays the dickgirl insisted that Lois be on top, and was always gentle during their lovemaking. It was all that Lois could do to fuck her a little harder, to tell her that her body could take it, that the babies were going to be okay...

"Happy Baby," the pregnant yoga instructor said on the screen, demonstrating the position on her back, arms and legs in the air, fingers gripping her toes. Lois tried it. Tendons in her legs screamed at her. Dark circles of sweat ran down from her armpits. She gripped the toes...and then, right through the V of her legs, she saw Angie, walking around the house naked as usual, headed toward the toilet to take a piss...and the dickgirl paused, limp dick in hand, to stare at Lois.

The sweating reporter stared back at her. Utterly ignoring what the bitch on the screen was saying about cooldown positions.

"I know how to burn some calories," she muttered to herself. "Hey babe," the pregnant woman said. "Come over here?"

Angie turned and strode over. No questions.

"I think my shorts tore. Can you look down there and see if there's a hole?"

A hand disappeared below the curve of her belly. She felt the air on her pussy—there hadn't seemed to be a point in wearing panties—and Lois felt the finger slide right inside her hot, dripping cunt.

"Yeah, there's a tear," Blaze said, and her cock was no longer limp. "Did you want me to mend that for you, or—"

"Blaze? Honey? Light of my life?" Lois said, a maniac grin splitting her features, heart thumping. "Shut up and fuck me like you love me."

Diana had taken off the sunhat to fan herself. Mary Marvel slurpped, her boba tea all gone. Zatanna was leaning forward, hanging on every word.

"So...did you?" the witch prompted.

Angie Blaze sighed. "Well, there was...I really had been on my way to take a piss. You have to understand that. But I couldn't just leave her there like that. So the whole time I was pumping her, that tight pussy squeezing my cock, my bladder was fit to burst. It all got a lot more heated than I had wanted, because I was hoping she'd cum and then I could go pee, but then she said..."

"Cum in me!" Lois Lane panted, her face a vivid scarlet, violet eyes flashing. Her thighs and calves quivered as she struggled to maintain the pose, and Blaze was right there on her knees, pumping her swollen hard cock into the pregnant reporter's pussy with more energy and **** than she'd done in weeks, hips pushing hard as the cock heat deep.

"Babe...!" Angie panted, desperately holding on. "I can't...I'm about to blow!"

"I want a fucking gusher in my cunt you fat-cocked cunt!" Lois screamed, every pregnancy hormone coming to the fore. She was obviously right on the edge and needed just a little more to push her over it. "Do it! Do it! If you fucking love me then do it right fucking now!"

Maybe the mood was infectious. Maybe it was just madness or desperation. Angie Blaze grabbed her pregnant lover's ankles and bent her backwards, the woman screaming as her legs were stretched further, as the weight of the belly shifted and her tits were pushed toward her face, and Blaze's cock was plunging straighter and deeper, gravity helping it hit deep, and...something gave way.

A hot flood burst in Lois Lane's pregnant cunt, and it wasn't just cum. Piss and jizz spurted, almost in tandem, the **** dickgirl unable to hold her urine any longer. The pressure of pissing through an erection is hard enough, but when the body is trying to cum at the same time...it was like her cock was trying to explode into the reporter's depths, and Lois screamed, her pussy convulsing, and her own pussy squirted upward like a baking soda volcano when the vinegar is poured in. Blaze just kept cumming and pissing, cumming and pissing, her cock thrusting into the spasming hole and stirring up the terrible mix of sexual fluids until at last she finished, with that sigh that men sometimes give after a good piss clears the pipes, and stepped backward.

The reporter's legs fell down and hit the mat with a thump. Lois was breathing hard, in the middle of widening dark spot of piss, pussy juice, and cum.

She raised one hand in the air, struggling for air.

"From now on," the pregnant reporter declared. "That's how you fuck, understand! No more of the 'oh, you're a delicate butterfly shit.' When I want a dicking, you give it to me good and hard. We'll count that toward my workouts..."

"We had to throw out the yoga mat," Angie said. "Nothing else for it."

Mary Marvel licked her lips. "Have you...done anything else? Like that, I mean."

The innocent young woman looked ready to explode. Angie smiled and gave her a wink.

"I'll tell you next week."