Epilogue: Twenty Years After

Across Metropolis, three hundred surprises came that night. Fertile women found familiar lovers in their arms in the dark. Their thighs parted willingly, the condoms dissolved like morning dreams...nails scraped over broad backs, buttocks heaved, ankles crossed...and when they awoke the next day, feeling the jizz that had been Lois Lane inside of them, they thought nothing to what the consequences of their night of unexpected pleasure would be.

Twenty Years After

Professor Clark Kent walked briskly to his Journalism 101 class at Metropolis University. The students knew him as harsh, but fair. Still a big man in his early fifties, with only a touch of grey to the temples, in better shape than most of the football team. Yet he was aloof from romantic contact, his blue eyes sad and wistful. Once he had been a journalist himself, but that had ended years ago...and the women on the faculty whispered that he still held a torch for a lost love.

Journalism 101 was a seminar class, the one used to weed out most students. The lecture hall was a great amphitheater that could hold five hundred students, and no one knew how Kent graded all their papers without graduate assistants, which the department never had the money for. This was his sixth year teaching the class, and he walked in confidently, expecting business as usual...

...and stopped and stared at a sea of familiar faces.

Raven-haired young women with violet eyes stared down at him, and for a moment his heart seemed to stop. They were alike enough to be sisters...and there wasn't a one of them that hadn't noticed that fact, and begun comparing notes. All of them had been born without a month of each other, some a little premature, and they were not all identical...one young woman had a mole on her left cheek, another a scar on her chin. Three had opted for breast implants, twenty-seven for tattoos. Most were thin and fit, but there were a few that were bigger, curvier, carrying the weight in flared hips and thicker thighs. Some dressed as goths, others as sluts, and one wore a hijab.

Clark Kent swallowed.

"Ah...hello!" He gave a smile...and all the women stopped talking. They looked at him with hungry eyes. Somewhere, in three hundred souls, a consciousness flickered. Recognition surged between their eyes...and there was a strange rustling sound as six hundred nipples suddenly grew erect, and three hundred pussies grew wet.

He smiled as he leaned against the desk at the bottom of the amphitheater, a dark curl of hair falling onto his forehead. With an instinctive gesture, he pushed the black frame glasses up his nose.

"I'm professor Clark Kent, and welcome to the first day of class. I'd like to start by asking a question." He pointed at the nearest of the women...one of the eager beavers in the front row.

"You miss...what's your name?"

"Joy Jane," the young woman said, standing up. For a moment, Superman wondered if he was staring at a ghost...she looked so much like Lois. But younger, a trifle thinner. The pupils in her violet eyes were dilated, and there were rings in the upper parts of her ear that Lois never had.

"What do you want to get out of this class?" He asked.

"Your cock," the woman said, abruptly.

Clark Kent coughed...but he was the only one. The whole room was rising to it's feet now, but Joy Jane was stalking towards him, like a lion toward an antelope.

"Well Miss Jane, I'm afraid that's very...inappropriate..."

She was right in front of him. Her eyes searching for something in his face. She pushed her young body against his, and her hand found its way to his pants, and Clark Kent was already hard, harder than he had been in twenty years.

"I feel like we've met before," she said, as she undid his pants. The other women were crowding around now, and the ones nearest the door locked and barricaded them. Kent could easily get out...and knew he should. Yet something held him back. He told himself it was that he wanted not to hurt them, or to keep his secret identity...but he knew that wasn't it at all.

His pants were pulled down to his knees, and hands gripped and pulled him onto the desk...though Clark could have stood against a blow from Darkseid, or the blast of a battleship without flinching, he felt utterly helpless as Joy Jane ripped her panties and hiked her skirt, eager to be the first to mount his cock.

"No, that's all wrong..."

In Hell, Blaze frowned at the image in the black mirror. What cosmic chance had guided all of her "daughters" in that place, at that time? She felt some hand working against her...some supernatural **** which had turned her instrument of sublime **** into an orgy, as Superman unleashed twenty years of pent-up sperm into one tight nineteen-year-old-cunt after another.

"What is done, cannot be undone," an old, tired voice said from behind her.

Blaze whirled...and standing there, shining gently in the darkness, was the translucent image of the wizard Shazam. He studied her with those blue eyes, that could be soft and caring one moment, and hard as diamond the next. One aged hand stroked his long white beard.

"You!" She hissed. "Old Thunderer is this one of your tricks?"

The wizard's smile had no mirth in it.

"Hardly. This was destiny. Superman was meant to make a child with Lois Lane. You divided her body and spirit into three hundred wombs...and now, destiny has drawn them together again. Once, you might have only had to face a single son from their union, now..."

He raised a shaggy eyebrow, and came as close as the old man ever did to a leer.

"...well, their sons and daughters shall be legion."

In the classroom, the Loises were each taking their turn...and the Man of Steel never faltered, his prick always hard and ready for them, his balls always ready to spurt another load into a tight twat. Each so familiar, each so different. For a while, as he shared their kisses, groped breast and ass, played with pussies with his big fingers, he forgot all the heartache and sorrow of twenty years without Lois Lane...and relived, in a single day, some of the love they might have shared in that time.

Of course, this was only the first day of class.