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Lois Lane waited with bated breath. She had never really understood that term before. Teenage Lois had thought of masturbation, they way she tried to hold her breath while you touched yourself so her dad or sister didn't hear her. Now she knew, it was more about...apprehension. Expectation. Edge of your seat waiting.

The dildo was out of her asshole now. She could see it on the screen, very clearly. The reporter didn't know how much time she had lost, but her muscle control down there was excellent. When the fake cock retracted, she was able to hold the gape for over a minute. Staring down her own pink tunnel in fascination.

But now...now she could hear footsteps coming toward her. The camera had shifted to another angle, lower down. Showcasing the little dip where her cheeks met, the freshly cleaned asshole, her dripping pussy, the thighs quivering in anticipation.

Lois could feel him before she could see his presence on the camera. That animal-like sixth sense when someone is standing right behind you. then the dark brown hands came into view, and she felt them spread her ass cheeks. Instinctively, the reporter winked her anus at him. Open and close, open and close.

Thighs came into view next, seeming to almost straddle the camera. The dangling hairless scrotum blocking the view as he lined himself up. No tattoos or other identifying marks, but definitely...African American. Male.

Something warm and hard just touched her rectum. She could feel the precum dribbling from the knob. Definitely male.

The light in the room turned a different shade of pink. The sound beats had turned into a low-volume indecipherable slurry, from which Lois could only make out the occasional word—ASS, COCK, BLACK, FUCK—she got the gist of the message, but not the specifics. She waited, feeling the cock touching her down there where no cock had ever been, barely holding her breath, heart leaping in her chest...

...and waited. He wasn't moving. She winked her asshole again, feeling the orifice move against the hard tip. Felt the hands, warm and strong and sure, holding her ass until she felt it might melt like butter beneath his calloused grip.

It took Lois Lane a moment to realize that if anything was going to happen, she would have to initiate it.

The reporter flexed her ass experimentally. Her channel was still lubed up. She had enough freedom of movement to do it. Wouldn't be hard at all to just press her backside against him and...let the cock slip inside of her.

So why can't I do it? The reporter's hands gripped and ungripped. It's like...I'm waiting on something. But what?

And then she found out.