It's Hard To Plan When You're Orgasming Non-Stop While Being Impregnated

It must have been Lois Lane's imagination. Blaze's balls could not rumble audibly, or swell until their sack was drawn taut and hard against her skin. A shiver could not travel through that iron-hard cock, her pussy could not vibrate in some sympathetic frequency, sending her to the verge of orgasm.

The first hot blast of jism could not hit the back of the reporter's vagina with so much **** that it made the eyes roll back in her head, cervix opening and closing spasmodically, another egg popping out of her ovary almost by reflex. Nothing human could continue to fire rope after rope of sperm, those pure white-eyes closed to mere cat-like slits, the scarlet succubus' mouth trapped in an O of pure ecstasy.

Egg cells, floating in their ducts on the way to the womb, have no nerves and no connection to a woman's nervous system. There should be no way that Lois Lane could feel the demonic semen pumping into her cunt surrounding her fragile, floating eggs. No way the sense of anticipation could grow and grow within her as the hard little heads of the sperm burrowed against the cell membrane, seeking entrance.

Yet some extrasensory sense must have been at play—because Lois could feel it, the semen swimming through her uterus as though drawn by invisible currents. The eggs under attack, every hammering blow echoing another splash of cum in her cunt as Blaze sent reinforcements. The terrible agony and ecstasy of the final moment of penetration, when a sperm slipped through sent Lois off, body leaping up on Blaze's cock, ankles locked hard around her backside, muscles all along her spine clamping, hard to breathe...

...then it happened again.

Lois shuddered as the second orgasm hit her, and automatically she knew what it was like for the first-time crack smoker, taking that second hit and knowing that they were bound for a chemical romance that wouldn't quit. The edge of the addiction hit her as her cunt overflowed, excess jizz dripping out of her overstuffed pussy, cervix still greedily gulping.

Almost absently, the reporter caused her ovary to release another egg.

Carried on swift currents, the virgin cell traveled down her oviduct more swiftly than nature would normally allow. The legions of Blaze's sperm were waiting, tails flagellating, seeking out the victim they were made to penetrate.

It became very hard to think, then.

Five minutes later, the dickgirl demon fell back, her supernatural sexual stamina utterly spent by the oath-induced stunt. A torrent of black jizz poured from the reporter's shivering slit, like crude oil bubbling from a wound in the Earth. Lois Lane lay in a haze, ovaries throbbing, body twitching gently, most autonomic controls temporarily loss as she drifted in pure pleasure.

She had lost count of how many eggs she had released in those five minutes. But she as sure that every one of them had been fertilized.