Lois Lane Smokes Crack

Crack. Crack is bad, Lois Lane told herself. She'd grown up hearing about how one hit would get you addicted, the terrible physical effects, the way it affected your baby... Oh god, that's right, I could be pregnant! Except...I mean, it's only one hit, right? Despite everything they told us in school, that was all the "scared straight" nonsense. Marijuana isn't going to kill you, one use of cocaine won't kill you, probably. It's like having a beer or a cigarette when you're pregnant isn't going to hurt the baby. And that's if I keep the baby. If I get plan B...or an abortion...

Lois stared down at the little glass pipe. Was she really going to do this?

"Yeah, okay," The reporter said. "But I, um, I've never done this before."

Di smiled. She moved the stem of the pipe up until it almost touched her lips. A lighter appeared in the blonde woman's other hand.

"I'm going to heat up the rock. When it starts to bubble, you exhale, then put your lips around the pipe and inhale hard. Hold it until you count to ten, then release it. Got it?"

"Yes," Lois said, her heart beating faster.

I can do this, she thought as the lighter clicked. Her eyes were focused on the little white rock in the bowl, the burnt black and brown residue from past uses. Inside her chest, her heart began to race, and butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She couldn't believe she was about to do this.

"Now!" Di said.

Lois exhaled hard, bit down on the glass stem, and inhaled. White smoke streamed up the clear pipe, and hit her mouth so hot that she almost stopped and coughed. Face screwing up, she **** herself to inhale...the hot smoke moving down her throat and into her lungs.

One...two...three... The reporter counted blearily, eyes tearing up...and by the time she hit ten, mouth opening, coughing, smoke pouring out of her lips, the **** had started to hit her. Lois Lane's eyes went wide, her heart beat faster, but more than that, it was...it was...she lacked the words for it. Not like getting buzzed from ****, she just felt...really fucking great. Jittery and energetic, all the **** pain and tiredness of the night wiped out in a second. She felt like she could run a marathon, like she could fuck a football time, like...like...

...like she wanted more.

I absolutely cannot do this again, Lois decided. The reporter knew she had an addictive personality. Adrenaline junkie, always throwing herself into danger. If she smoked crack again, she knew she'd want to do it again and again, and then she would be addicted bad and she didn't want that, baby or no baby.

"You like that, huh?" Di said.

"Yeah," Lois licked her lips. "So...we cool now? You'll show me?"

"Sure," Di said, as she put the pipe up to her lips and sucked it hard...about finishing off the tiny bit of crack cocaine left, the tiny white rock utterly disappearing into the bubbling mess at the bowl of the pipe. She didn't cough, but she wheezed a little, smoke coming out of her nostrils. "I need some more anyway."