Fertility

Lois sighed. "It's not that I don't trust you, I'm just not...used to the whole magic thing." She confessed, staring down at her navel. "I'm just used to...science. Fertility ****, that's all about biology, medicine, chemistry..."

"I can do chemistry," Blaze took her finger and traced a circle around Lois' navel. "If that's what you want. I've got some fertility **** over in my office right now...if you want to make sure it takes."

The reporter considered. She didn't think Blaze was lying to her...and the prospect of having a baby was honestly getting her a little excited. Sure, she'd been creamed good and proper, but a little something extra wouldn't hurt, right?

"Okay." Lois licked her lips. "Let's do it."

They disengaged, Lois letting her lover pull back, and clambering onto unsteady legs. Their clothes were a bit the worse for wear...and Lois didn't even bother replacing her panties, just squeezing her legs back into her tight pants, going commando and letting her fresh-fucked puss press against the tight fabric.

Part of the reporter wondered if she had done the right thing, making such a promise. She had no idea what **** Angelica Blaze actually had—or what she was really capable of. Promises in fairy tales and fantasy tended to be very binding. Yet as she admired her lover from behind as she shimmied back into her clothing, Lois knew that she honestly did wish to continue their liaison.

Angelica wore a black one-piece dress that came to about mid-thigh; Lois wasn't sure how she normally handled her appendage but the shemale's hard-on made a notable bulge against the sheer material. She pouted, obviously frustrated at this turn of events. The reporter sidled up and handed her a small, folded black cloth.

"What's this?" Blaze brought it up to her nose to give them a sniff.

"My panties." Lois grinned. "I've got a piece of you with me, so...I think you should have a piece of me with you."

They held hands as Angelica guided them out of the bathroom, back into the club; they skirted the noisy dance floor and waltzed past the security as they headed through the door near the bar to the back rooms—Lois blinked as the light and decor changed, from trashy club to general white-collar offices. Blaze led her to what might have been a foreman's office once...there was a computer, and a desk, filing cabinets, peeling wood veneer on the walls.

The shemale opened a desk drawer and dug around, coming up with a small unlabeled brown prescription bottle and a bottled water. She popped the caps off and handed the prescription bottle to Lois. The reporter stared down into a sea of little brown pills.

"Here you go," the shemale's smile couldn't conceal the eager edge to her voice. "Conception guaranteed."