Lois Heads To The All-Night Gym

The 5th Street Gym was open all night...and even past midnight, there was a smattering of folks on the weight machines, listening to an 80s pop-rock medley. Lois changed in the locker room and hit the indoor track. Tight athleisure pants and top, springy-soled running shoes, and her hair held back in a ponytail, and the reporter was off. She had the track all to herself, and for a while Lois lost herself in the run. Pushing herself hard, legs pumping, letting the burn settle into her muscles and work out the tension.

The workout was good...5k indoors was enough to leave Lois shaking and sweating...and reflecting on the events of the night. The more she thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed weird. What were the odds that she would find that bottle? That she would take it? That was out of character for her. Then to stick it...up inside of her...and to drink from it. The reporter chewed her lip, wondering what it all meant. It felt like something was working on her. Like a fly caught in a web.

At least here, far from the bottle, Lois felt like she was thinking clearly.

Until someone lapped her on the track.

Long of leg and lean, with the build of a marathoner. She loped past Lois easily, and beneath the sway of her dark hair Lois caught sight of the firm buttocks in the tight shorts she wore...the lean smoothness of her legs, the dainty ankles swelling into calves...and then the smell hit her, and Lois felt a dab of wetness between her legs, saliva filling her mouth...and the reporter veered off, slowing down and panting as she dashed to the women's locker room.

There was a long line of stalls, and Lois chose the last one on instinct. The women's locker room shared a wall with the men's, and as Lois sat down, pulled her pants and panties down to her knees, one hand delving down over her sweaty pubic hair, struggling to contain herself and wondering where this sudden urge had come from. She wondered idly if there was anyone on the other side, doing the same thing she was.

Then a tile fell off the shared wall. It hit the floor with a clatter...and what was beyond it, Lois noted with surprise, was not a blank patch of wall. It was a hole, carved or cut or dug out of the thin intervening wall...and it was with only mild surprise when Lois soon saw a vivid purple cockhead slide out of the formerly hidden gloryhole...and all at once the thirst hit the back of her throat, and Lois felt herself salivating. She could smell that cock...no, not the cock...the cum...the promise of cum. A milky droplet beaded the very tip of the cockhead, and Lois Lane's body began to shake.