Massage Lois Lane's Tits

Maria's hands, fingers still wet with her pussy juice, immediately went to the reporter's swollen breasts. Lois Lane stared down at them, surprised at how much bigger they looked. She hadn't really been paying attention, caught up as she had been in the movie, and in touching herself. But now she was staring down at her breasts and could see the young woman's hands sink into the pale flesh, the excess tissue bulging from between the fingers. For a woman that had come out of puberty with bare palmfuls, it was a realization to look down at her chest and see them hanging there, jutting out proudly.

I've got tits, Lois realized. She had never thought about her breasts in that way before, but looking down at them there seemed to be no denying it. What cup size am I now? D? E? I'm going to need an entirely new set of bras.

"Does this hurt?" Maria asked as she ran her hands in gentle circular motions, starting around the outside of the reporter's boobs and working her way toward the nipples.

"They're sore," Lois said, blinking slowly. "But that feels good."

There was a kind of ache, deep inside and behind her tits. Like tired muscles. The sense of pressure was almost gone, though, and what little was left of it was disappearing as Maria' gently rubbed and kneaded her breasts, never too hard or fast. Lois found herself relaxing as the massage continued. On the screen, the film credits rolled, ended. There was a moment of blank screen, and then something else began to play, though neither Lois nor Maria touched the controls.

A series of bright pink flashes left Lois blinking. She was sure that just for a moment she had seen something, some words, too fast for her to consciously register what they were. Then the program began.

It was one of those Girls Gone Wild videos, from the look of it. Found footage, raw and spliced together in a montage of shaky cameras. Not the usual college parties and Mardi Gras parades though. This was at some sort of a beach, or beaches. Pale brown sand, women taking off their bikini tops. Not porn stars or drunk teenagers, just regular women, some Lois Lane's age, others older.

Most of them were smaller than her, in the tit department. That made Lois feel weirdly happy, somehow. A few of them, though, were bigger. Much bigger. Tits taut and shiny, round and packed if implants, hanging down a bit if natural, but still in all their variation, oddly...beautiful.

The soundtrack was weird too, a kind of electronica beat and whine mixed with a kind of whisper. If Lois concentrated, she could almost make out the words. Something about breasts, surprise, surprise. Lois laid back, eyes half-closed, letting Maria play with her tits. The reporter's own hand started to rub her pussy again. Her body was starting to feel hotter. Especially her tits.

"Do you like tits, Lois?" Maria asked, squeezing the base of the reporter's tits.

"Yes," Lois breathed, barely registering the question, eyes fixed on the screen. The venues were changing now, away from the beach, into some kind of nightclub...no, a strip bar. Lois shuddered at the thought that she was about to see some stripper tits.

"Big tits?" Maria pressed, hands hefting the reporter's breasts. Lois had never had enough to heft before.

"Yes," Lois breathed as the first topless dancer appeared on stage, dropping low in front of the audience, ass against the pole, shaking her tits at the crowd. "Big tits."

"Do you want bigger tits?" Maria's voice seemed to be directly at Lois Lane's ear, though that didn't make any sense. The young woman was right in front of her, massaging her tits. There was a confused moment where Lois swore she was staring right through Maria, as if the young woman wasn't there, the screen filling her vision as the camera focused on a stripper with massive implants, the almost-spherical tits like balloons attached to her tits, just smaller than her head.