Get On Your Knees And Lick My Pussy

Poison Ivy pulled her fingers out of the reporter's snatch...and to her horror, the mostly-naked reporter found herself turning around to see her tormentor for the first time.

The top looked to have been torn from a once-elegant strapless green dress, one that barely covered Ivy's breasts. She had a slender, hourglass figure, the waist narrow, the hips flared. The red hair was held back by a crown of green-stemmed white flowers, stray streamers of hair falling down to her shoulders. The taut, pale midriff was bare, showing a hint of abs. The shirt was made of blue jeans material, dyed green, with a vine as a kind of belt. Ripped green leggings ended in black boots, that came up to just below the knee.

Her lips, with the smeared green makeup, twisted into a triumphant leer. Ivy grabbed the hem of her skirt and pulled it up...and Lois Lane looked down and saw a veritable forest. It was like New England in autumn, every shade of red, orange, and yellow, spreading out, a damp patch in the middle...

The reporter's eyes pleaded with Ivy, but the reporter herself sank to her knees. Everyone stopped and stared as Lois released her tips to grasp Ivy's thighs. Lois Lane hated herself as she buried her face into that bushy...as her tongue sought out that sour patch, and buried in there, the hot, wet slit. Her tongue tingled and began to burn as she tasted Ivy's juices...and it quickly spread to her lips and mouth, down her throat.

Ivy's pale hands gripped the reporter's head. She laughed as the tears started from the reporter's eyes, only to get lost in her multicolored pubic hair.

"That's it, slut!" she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Lick my cunt! Let everyone see what a clam digging dyke you are..."