Lois Lane vs. Mercy Graves, Round 1: Fight!

The naked reporter led with her left. Mercy Graves dodged, easy and confident. Lois Lane didn't let up, throwing combinations that never quite seemed to connect. A sexual flush now covered more of the reporter's body, and her shoulders started to burn. Graves smirked, eyes focused on the reporter's, watching where the next hit would come...

...and didn't realize her mistake until she backed straight into the corner of the White Room.

Lois Lane's leg shot out stiffly and caught Mercy straight in the midriff. Surprised, the bodyguard pitched forward. There was a solid crack as her descending skull met the naked reporter's uppercut. The bodyguard reeled back, a cut above her left eye...and Lois didn't let up. Blows hammered on Mercy Graves, who did her best to cover up, wait for an opening that didn't come.

The kick to Graves' knee brought her down to the ground...and then Lois was on her, the naked reporter wailing away. She straddled the bodyguard, screaming incoherently. Pinned Mercy Graves' arms back with her knees and grabbed her head with both hands and banged it into the floor.

Winning a fight isn't about who's stronger, or faster, or more skilled. That's how you win at sports, where there are rules. In a real fight, there are no rules. Winning means being willing and able to do what your opponent won't. Stars spun in Mercy Graves' eyes, and she tasted blood in her mouth. Her whole face was lit up with pain, thoughts came thickly...but she could smell a tart-fishy odor that was tantalizingly familiar.

Until the woman beneath her laid there, barely conscious, eyes already swelling up, blood trickling from nose and mouth...and Lois Lane realized how hot her pussy was, absolutely gushing, dripping down on Mercy's chest and soaking the bodyguard's shirt.

Lois scooted forward. Smashed her labia against the bodyguard's swollen lips.

"Eat it," Lois panted. "Eat my fucking cunt, and if you bite me I'm going to crush your eyes into gooey pits."