Lois Lane Doesn't Need Help

It is true that many times in her life, Lois Lane had gotten into situations over her head. Tied up, tied down, threatened by an alien invader or a madman or a criminal with ****, dismemberment or worse. In such times of crisis, Superman would often come to save her. Often, but not always.

Because sometimes, Lois Lane could save herself.

Bueno Excellente had caught the lust-maddened reporter by surprise. The Kryptonite had so addled and confused her, she had not even suspected his presence until after his tool had torn painfully into her ass...and his fanatical strength had also caught her unawares as his massive member tore into her, the anal fissure dripping blood behind her as he fucked her across the floor.

Yet for all of his experience, he was, at the end of the day, an overweight pervert whose biggest advantages were surprise and priapism. Lois Lane, on the other hand, had advanced unarmed combat training, was in excellent physical shape, and was super pissed.

Her right foot hooked behind his right knee. With a twisting motion, she sent Bueno to the ground. Unprepared, his instinct was to grip on tight and continue to pump away...but Lois Lane was already athletically flipping backwards. His arms bent at the elbows and the reporter's thighs crashed into the floor next to his ears.

The last thing Bueno saw was the cunt that came down to muffle his mouth.

"Eat my fucking pussy you **** shitbag!" Lois growled as she clamped her thighs tight about his head and planted her pussy against his face. His cock, with all of its scars, subdermal implants, and piercings, spurted uselessly onto his fat gut as his legs flailed. "Eat it or die!"