Lois Lane Does Not Lose At Beer Pong

"Time out!" Lois cried. She reached down under her shirt, unhooked her bra, and pulled it off. She let the black cups rest on the head of her drunken, passed-out partner. The reporter grabbed Aimee's paddle out of her unsuspecting hand. Dual-wielding the two paddles, she planted herself at her end of the table. Took a deep breath, let it out...glad now that her girls could move freely, and that she could breathe...and then the reporter looked her opponents straight in the eye and smiled.

Little did they know, Lois Lane was better at sports when she had a few drinks in her.

It was a knack she had picked up at sorority parties, as she built up her **** tolerance and learned how to appear less drunk than she really was. A valuable skill for interviews and schmoozing...but the real surprise was that a few drinks made Lois more loose and relaxed, but her reflexes weren't affected at all. She was just as fast and coordinated as normal, even when a normal person would be quiet tipsy.

Something that Jorge and Mac quickly found out.

Their teamwork was lacking, and as the ball sailed across the table Lois Lane's paddles flew with a free-wheeling intensity, returning the serve with greater precision than she had a moment ago, when the drunk and bumbling Aimee was in her way. Splash after splash landed in the men's cups, and with increasingly glassy eyes they struggled to match the reporter's reflexes, the two men jostling and over-extending themselves almost comically.

Of course, it helped that without her bra, the reporter's small breasts were now moving freely, the stiff nipples clearly visible through her white shirt, and the men she faced couldn't help but stare...the extra distraction helped her pick up rebounds and surprise them with acrobatic leaps that caused her shirt to dance, revealing hinting slices of underboob, the pink edge of a nipple...

It can be hard enough to play beer pong without a hard-on.

"What the hell?" Jorge said, eyes wide and staring at the reporter in disbelief. "How are you still standing, lady? You've drunk more than both of us!"

"Yeah, seriously," Mac wiped the sweat away from his brow. "What is your liver made out of, cast iron?"

Real panic showed in their faces. They were down to a single cup now...and Lois Lane grinned as she went in for the kill...