Chapter 8 by Zeebop

Does Lois get wet?

Lois Gets Soaked

Water burst out of the spigot in a torrent, catching the reporter in its cold blast. Valeria laughed as Lois Lane sputtered, stepped back...and then the Latina was on her, those fat soapy tits pressed into the wet white t-shirt, her hot lips pressed against the reporter's own...

...and for a moment Lois lost herself in those warm lips that tasted of sour beer and lime, the warm wet masses that pressed into her own much smaller chest, the hands that grabbed her jacket and pulled it off of her, tossing it safely out the way of the shower. The water that sprayed on them both was beginning to heat up...and Lois could feel the wetness that drenched her to the skin.

"Oopsie," Valeria said as she broke the kiss. "Our clothes are all wet. We should get out of them before we catch cold."

Lois Lane shook her head. The lines were corny, like something out of a cheesy pornographic film...but she had to admit that right now, with the buzz of the **** in her head and already soaking wet, she felt herself giving in.

Why not play along? The reporter said as she let Valeria peel off her wet t-shirt and bra. The hungry mouth going for the comparatively tiny titties that sat like two perfect teardrops on the reporter's thin chest, the pink nipples hard and stiff as eraser-tips.

Valeria kissed each one appreciatively.

"I can't wait to see these swell up!" She whispered softly to herself...and dimly, in the back of Lois Lane's mind, that seemed to trigger a warning.

Yet as soon as the thought occurred, her mind was distracted by Valeria peeling off her pants.

"Come on, come on! Get naked!" The Latina insisted. "How can we wash our pussies with our pants on!?"

Lois had no answer to that.