Lex Luthor Uses Lois Lane Like A Cocksleeve

He didn't fuck her, exactly. Lois Lane could feel the metal studs in his cockhead slide down the tube of flesh that was her extended pussy. She could feel how slick she was inside, how hard and hot his dick was, the little shiver that ran down her spine as he scraped against every hidden g-spot. The way he gripped her fleshy super-cunt with both hands and squeezed, the better to crush it tight around his dick.

Yet he fucked her like a cocksleeve, an onahole, a fleshlight, one of those sextoys that Lois had glimpsed in adult video stores when she had, in university, finally been old enough and courageous enough to go in there and see what it was all about. Lex Luthor didn't flex his hips. He simply gripped her sensitive shafted and stroked his cock with it. Back and forth, the hot wet tube sucked at his cock.

Lois Lane, unable to move herself, could only watch as he masturbated with her body.

It was almost as if she wasn't there...a pillow, or a poster on his wall. He worked his shaft methodically, his face creased with concentration, eyes focused mostly on the meat-tube that he squeezed around his stiff dick, but now and then those green eyes flickered out to star at the reporter's thin, lithe body, her small breasts with their stiff pink nipples, the vacant expression on her face, the raven-dark hair...

She wondered, for a moment, what he was thinking about. Lois had a boyfriend once who liked to masturbate over her. She would lay on the bed, unmoving, eyes locked on his face as he stroked himself. He had a particular fascination with Lois spreading her labia and letting him shoot his jizz into her pink depths. It was a harmless kink, since Lois was on birth control at the time...and she had felt a strange sexual heat within herself as she watched him slowly lose it, every time. The way he retreated inside himself, how his eyes seemed to see something that wasn't there...he wasn't trying to impregnate her, she realized, but the Lois Lane in his head...or some other woman. An old girlfriend, his mother, a teacher. Lois had simply been the way he worked out whatever neurotic fixation he'd developed toward some other woman.

It was why, finally, things had not worked out.

Now Lois Lane saw that same thing in Lex Luthor. His stroked grew faster, the cock buried as deep inside the reporter's super-pussy as it could go, his hands furiously and roughly rubbing his head.

"Here it comes..." he said, and closed his eyes.

Which is when Lois Lane discovered she could move.