Epilogue: Regrets, She Had A Few

Lois Lane knew before she ever peed on a stick. She had watched her weight creep up on the scale, even though she hadn't really changed her diet. A sluggishness in the morning had given way to nausea that went beyond hot coffee on an empty stomach. No actual vomiting, but Lois had spent the last couple of weeks chewing Pepto tablets and nibbling on saltines, avoiding ****, taking care to avoid any sharp bumps.

The confirmation was really no more than an anticlimax. The gynecologist gave her a warm smile and congratulations, a list of things to do and not to do, most of which the reporter already knew. Lois had already determined not to tell anyone at work just yet...many pregnancies ended by themselves in the first couple of months, natural miscarriages. Better to wait until it was safe. There were only two people she had to tell.

Superman met her on the roof of the Daily Planet. It was night, and the moon was full. She shivered in her coat, and wondered whether the reflected sunlight on the moon powered Superman too...and then he was there, red cape flapping in the breeze. Lois steeled herself for what she was about to say, having already worked the script out in her head.

"I'm pregnant," she said. A carefully edited version of events followed. Undercover at the club, the unprotected sex, the arrangement. His mouth was a firm line throughout, a good listener who gave nothing away, just let her pour out her case to him. "...I'm going to keep the baby. I'm in a relationship with the parent. A sexual one, I mean. I just...I think I'm ready to be a mother. I just wanted to tell you."

"Lois," he said after a moment. "I appreciate that. But are you sure that this relationship will work out? It sounds very...transactional. I don't want to interfere with anything, I just want what's best for you. And the baby."

There was that pause. Lois heard it. The reporter **** a smile onto her face, even though she didn't feel it. In truth, he hadn't said anything that Lois herself hadn't already been thinking.

"I'm a big girl, Superman. If worse comes to worst, I can raise this baby on my own."

He paused then...and for a moment Lois wondered if he would step in, declare his undying love, offer to care for her and the baby...but he didn't. Lois couldn't even feel upset about that. It was a foolish, fleeting fantasy, and even this perfect man couldn't be expected to take in a woman pregnant with someone else's child.

"I know Lois. You're one of the strongest women I know. But even the strongest women need help sometime. If you need anything..."

"Thanks," she said. Then a siren rose, far off, and his whole demeanor changed. He stood up straighter, head turned toward the sound, all of his attention focused on the fire or robbery or whatever other emergency it was...and then he ran toward the edge of the roof, launched himself off...and he was gone.

Which left one other.

Blaze was in what passed as a lounge for the brothel. Not everyone who came to a brothel were there to get laid, some were hangers-on who waited while their friends fucked, or who wanted a particular man or woman and were willing to wait. One regular, Blaze told Lois, brought his 80-year-old mother here, once a week, and left her in the lounge as he had his "appointment." Those who worked the lobby kept her supplied with coffee and magazines, and even changed the television channel to the Westerns channel for her benefit.

She greeted Lois with a kiss on the cheek. Tonight, Angelica Blaze was dressed in a black business dress, the skirt conservative enough to cover her cock—the dickgirl refused to wear underwear—but the wonderbra and a careful cut of the lapels gave her at least a modicum of cleavage. The reporter kissed her back, and then dropped her surprise.

"The results came back today," Lois said. "The rabbit died. They think I'm six weeks along, which is about right for our first night."

Blaze's familiar Mona Lisa smile grew wider, showing teeth. She leaned in and gave Lois a hug, pulling the reporter against her body...

...but Lois caught the dark eyes slide off of her, just a little. The reporter followed the gaze and noticed the new girl—a young, buxom, saucy minx who went by the name "Jinx." She was twenty-one, and had strangely pale skin, hair in red-and-black pigtails, and tended to black dresses that were too short, dyeing her pussy hair surprising colors, and practical jokes. Jinx took a tremendous glee in practical jokes, and more than one woman had found holes poked in their condoms, spermicidal jelly replaced by toothpaste, and other things...but as she bent down to tie her boots, Lois and Blaze both caught a clear glimpse of her pert little ass and the line of her pussy...and the pregnant reporter felt Blaze grow hard, right then.

"That excited at the news?" Lois tried to put the best spin on the scenario. "Why don't we get a room and celebrate properly?"

"I really should—" Blaze began, but Lois leaned in and whispered.

"You know, when I get too big, you'll have to fuck my ass. But I haven't done that with anyone before. Maybe we could do it tonight..."

It was a trump card that Lois hadn't expected to deploy this early in the relationship. Yet now that Jinx was working at Blaze's brothel, the reporter found herself worried. She was depending on Blaze to help her through this pregnancy...and the way that the dickgirl had been talking, Lois had hoped maybe their relationship would become something more permanent. Yet if it was just sex and surrogacy...and Blaze started to stray...

The reporter let Blaze drag her toward the nearest room, the rock-hard cock tenting her dress. Determination settled in Lois. She would just have to make sure that didn't happen. No matter what it took, she knew she had to monopolize Blaze sexually for the next thirty-six weeks.

That was not something even Superman could help her with.