Lay Back And Enjoy It

Something moved inside the reporter's sore cunt. At this point, she wasn't sure she cared what it was. The bloody head drifted closer, the warm wet lips planting themselves against her neck. Hands grasped the reporter's breasts. A soft moan escaped Lois Lane's lips.

She knew, deep down inside, that she should probably be fighting this. Or that it might be some kind of dream or hallucination brought on from tiredness, drink, the events of the night. Yet just now, the reporter couldn't remember the last time she had been kissed like that.

The whole tub seemed filled with blood now, and the crimson mouth was leaving bloody kisses up her lips. Fingers squeezed and teased at her nipples. The cock...if it was a cock...was not simply plunging in and out of her as though pumping oil. It felt solid, yet slick, and it moved in and out shallowly yet rhythmically, up and down, side to side, searching out the little sensitive spots in the reporter's pussy that made her moan harder.

Some unseen warm cushion lifted the reporter's ass, and she was floating, buoyant, in the bloody tub. Her breasts crested the surface, and through half-closed eyes, Lois could see the crimson hands that massaged her breasts and circled her hard nipples. The red djinn or whatever it was had raised her torso up above her, cresting the reporter like a crimson wave, and their lips met with a taste like bloody meat, coppery and tangy.

It was what Lois had always imagined it would be like, kissing another woman. The tentative exploration, the hot breath shared between them for a long moment. The kiss broke, and the reporter felt for a moment that her mouth tasted like an abattoir, and wondered if that was what it was like to go down on a woman during her period.

"Let me in," the scarlet spirit said. "Grant me permission to enter you."