Lois Is So Fucked

Darkness embraced Lois Lane completely then. She couldn't move an inch, couldn't see. She could scream, but who would hear it? If anything, it felt like the latex was growing thicker around her, the pressure on every square inch of her body increasing, the world getting that much farther away. Her body was hot, unable to shed heat fast enough.

A hot, gaping hole, waiting to be fucked.

Trapped in her sensory isolation Lois Lane could feel the fat cock as it slid into her cunt. It was almost all she could feel. Reduced to a living sex toy, sucking in cool air, feeling the invader slide deep inside of her.

A raw cock. Lois could scarcely remember the last time she'd had a lover who didn't wear a condom. Years of safe sex education had drilled that into her skull as a must. There hadn't been a single encounter since her first year of college that hadn't involved a layer of latex. Even then, when Lois had been most sexually active, she'd been on birth control, had herself tested regularly for STDs. Just in case.

Now...now she had ****. She could feel her cunt dripping, and told herself it was just the heat, her body cooking from the inside—but she knew it was more than that. If she could move, she knew she'd be shaking in anticipation. To be taken like this—no control, no protection—it was like a nightmare.

Or a wetdream.

The cock bottomed out inside of her, thicker than anything else she'd ever had, but not one of those cervix-tickling dongs that stabbed you in the gut with every thrust. The dickgirl began to slide in and out of Lois, nice and slow, taking her time. It didn't matter to her how Lois felt. The Daily Planet's greatest reporter had been reduced to a cocksocket...and a part of her loved it.

Loved the surrender, the lack of power. Loved the fat fucking cock that rubbed against her walls until she thought her pussy would burst, loved the rhythmic vibrations of the dickgirl's hips hitting the solid latex.

Her head began to swim, the heat inside her body reaching some critical mass. Time lost all meaning, only the endless thrust of cock in cunt. The only thing that told Lois that it was getting closer to the end was how the pace quickened, the cock pushing and pulling at her twat with greater **** and urgency.

Lois felt ill, fevered, as with heat stroke. A part of her prayed that the dickgirl would finish soon, spill her seed in the reporter's unprotected depths and be done with it. Her clitoris was forlorn, unstimulated, and the heat was making her ill. All dangers of pregnancy or STDs be damned, Lois couldn't get off and was beginning to get afraid that her body would completely overheat, that she would die trapped in this latex hell.

Please! She begged, unable to do more than moan. Cum and let me go!

When the cock did cum, Lois Lane, fading near unconsciousness, wasn't ready for it.