Epilogue: The Third Game

For their third date, they went out. Lois Lane wore a black dress a little shorter than she was comfortable with, painted her nails red, wore the heels that helped show off her long, slim legs. Angelica Blaze wore a slim, dark red European-style suit with a black tie and cowboy boots, her long hair held back in a ponytail, just a touch of makeup on her face. It was a very androgynous look on the dickgirl's tall, slim figure, and Lois smiled to see her walk down the sidewalk

The restaurant was some Arabic-Ethiopian fusion place, too new and small to be trendy yet, though Lois saw a couple of food writers she knew there, and knew in a week it would be the place to be. They sat on cushions at low tables, drank strong coffee and were served injera, a kind of flat bread along with meat stews and vegetable curries. Blaze asked about her work, Lois asked about Blaze; the dickgirl had a way of dancing around some of the issues—she didn't like to talk about her family or upbringing, though Lois got her to admit she had a twin brother, wasn't on speaking terms with her father, and her mother was dead or gone.

Dessert was some sort of sherbert, sweet and tart and cold, that they ate together out of the same cup with little spoons. Playfully, Lois offered her a spoonful. For just a second, Blaze hesitated...old instincts there, Lois noticed...and then softened and opened to let her date spoon the confection into her mouth.

Lois offered to pay half, but Blaze waved it away.

"My treat," she said, smile suddenly mischievous.

They walked back to Blaze's apartment. She offered her arm, and Lois took it. It seemed so natural...the reporter didn't think anything of what it would look like, to walk arm-in-arm down the street with Angelica Blaze. A few people looked at them; one woman even made the sign of the horns with her hand! It was so strange to be judged like that...

"Are we playing a game tonight?" Lois asked as they rode the elevator up to her apartment.

"I thought we might," Blaze said. "Something simple, that we can both enjoy."

There were handcuffs on the bed, a bowl of condoms.

"Looks promising," Lois said, and she meant it. In truth, she had come to really enjoy these encounters...the freshness of them, the playful aspect of BDSM, maybe even the slight hint of danger.

"One of these condoms," Blaze said. "Has a hole in it. We'll take turns: one of us gets handcuffed, the other picks a condom...and has fun. Whatever you want to do. When I fill the condom up, we find out if it has a hole in it...and the game stops."

"Hmm," Lois said. With the number of times that Blaze could cum, they might be in for a long night of sexy playtimes. "And what do I get if I find the condom with the hole in it?"

Blaze smiled. "You get to pick our next game."

Clothes fell on the floor. They each took their time in the bathroom, getting cleaned out and ready. Lois Lane had no desire to be handcuffed to the bed and suddenly need to dash to the toilet. It was all very adult and civilized...and then Lois grinned as she thought about what they were doing. Stone cold sober, not drunk teenagers making out in a closet after playing spin-the-bottle. Two adults making the conscious choice to be kinky...and after all, why not?

Sex was meant to be fun.

Blaze went first. Her hands handcuffed above her head, legs spread. cock half-hard. The condoms were a rainbow of colors in their clear packages. Let grabbed a red one...Blaze's dick looked good in red.

In a way, it was like their last game. Except now, on a bed...well, different possibilities.

Lois Lane sat across from Blaze. The reporter's hand stole down to her pussy, to rub softly at her slit...more to tease the handcuffed dickgirl than for her own pleasure...and Angelica smiled back, helpless for the moment. That was the true heart of the game: the waiting, the wondering, the giving up of control. Lois wondered what Angie would do to her, when her turn came. But first...Blaze had to cum.

The reporter's feet came together around the half-hard shaft. Blaze raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. It was nice to be with someone like that, where there was no need for words sometimes.

The soles of her feet shuffled up and down the cock. Under the stimulation, it stiffened between her feet. Lois let her toes grab the condom-covered sides and squeezed as it grew hard. Her big toe squeezed the rubbery tip through the thin latex, and played with the semen reservoir. A little color flooded into Blaze's cheeks, but she wasn't ready to cum...not yet.

"I'll bet you want this pussy," Lois said. She used her fingers to spread her labia, flashing the pink. Blaze's nostrils flared, and the reporter grinned wider. She had a good idea of what Angie really wanted, and as her feet continued to rub up and down the condom-clad cock, she continued to spread her pussy a little wider, let her fingers dip into the exposed hole...

"Look how juicy I am. Bet you want some of this, don't you babe? Want to lick it. Taste it. Fuck it. Feel it wrap around your hard cock! But you don't get it. Not yet. Right now, your dick is only worthy of my feet."

The dickgirl's face was wolfish, eyes dark, her secret smile stretched to reveal teeth and Lois saw that Blaze's nipples were hard, her arms tense as she tested the handcuffs.

"Show me how much you want to fuck me," Lois whispered. "Cum for me. Cum for me using just my feet. Prove to me that you're worth more than that."

Blaze did, finally, though it took a lot more dirty talk and a good deal more frottage...yet the slim hips bucked against the bed, the cock leaped...and Lois let out a little squeal of joy when she saw the white ooze burble up from out of the tip of Blaze's dick into the condom, the tip of which expanded and sagged underneath the load.

Not a drop escaped. No holes punched in that condom.

Lois leaned over with the key. She kissed Angie once, on the mouth, before unlocking the handcuffs. As they switched positions...Lois lowered herself into the warm spot where Blaze's ass had rested on the bed, her hands cuffed behind her head...it occurred to Lois that Blaze had to know which condom she had poked a hole in. She could cheat, if she had a mind to. Dump a load in Lois Lane's unprotected pussy.

The dickgirl took off the used condom and tossed it into a wastebasket. She didn't even look at the bowl as she picked out another one, tore open the wrapper, and stretched it around her dick. The reporter prepared herself to get fucked...and was surprised when the first thing Blaze did was to lick up the reporter's foot and wrap her lips around the reporter's big toe.

Lois Lane's nose crinkled and she wondered if she had awoken a foot fetish in her lover...but then mouth and tongue slid from toes to ankle...down the calf...and Lois realized that Blaze was simply buying time to get hard again and fuck the shit out of the reporter.

"I don't cheat," Blaze said in between the kisses she planted on Lois Lane's inner thigh. "When I fuck you...when I cum in you...it will be fair...and..square..."

Lois moaned as the lips reached her clit...and a part of her, deep inside, realized she didn't mind the possibility of a condom breaking inside of her, if it was Blaze's cum that burst through the fragile latex. Not one bit.