Multiple Nipple Orgasms

Lois Lane liked to think of herself as an experienced woman. Not some blushing virgin or outright slut, but willing and able and willing to have sex with the lights on. Someone who could and had educated herself about the realities of sex, experimented safely, and gained greater confidence from knowing about her own body and what it was capable of. As a reporter, she had interviewed porn stars, sex workers, **** artists, vice cops, and medical professionals; reviewed in-depth works on sexual techniques and wellness, met with sex educators and attended congressional hearings on censorship which had opened her mind to paraphilia, kinks, and fetishes she had never known existed...without passing judgment.

Yet she had never, in her varied sexual career, ever experienced multiple orgasms. To Lois Lane, a climax was possible, but it required foreplay, excitement, stimulation of multiple erogenous zones—and it usually wasn't accomplished by humping and pumping. The reporter enjoyed sex with her various male partners, but she generally couldn't cum with them, though like many women she had become adept at faking it to sate their fragile egos.

Multiple orgasms was the stuff of myth, bad pornography, science fiction. Lois wasn't one to say that it was impossible, but she herself had never managed that kind of feat. To Lois, a climax made her hungry for chocolate chip cookies and a nap. THe height and discharge of all of her sexual tension in a single white-hot moment, followed by a mellow warmth and a general relaxation of the body...not conducive to continued masturbation.

Which is why, as the hot drizzle of pussy-juice from her first climax leaked out of the bottom of her pants leg, Lois was surprised when Poison Ivy squeezed her breasts hard, two fingers pressing hard on each nipple as she clutched the reporter from behind...and Lois couldn't even scream as an electric shock went up her spin, the muscles of her back seizing up so that her whole body arched out, hips thrust in the air, feet planted on the floor, and only the redheaded villain holding the reporter aloft as Lois experienced an utterly unexpected second climax...

...except it didn't stop.

Ivy smiled wide as her fingers rubbed the reporter's nipples in small circles, and small explosions seemed to sound in the reporter's brain as her super-sensitive nipples seemed to have a short cut straight to the pleasure centers of Lois Lane's brain and body. To any bystanders, it might have seemed like the reporter was having a stroke...and based on the liquid that ran down her pants leg and over her foot to form a small wet puddle on the dance floor, that she had pissed herself as well.

Ivy knew better. She knew exactly what the little seeds had implanted were doing to Lois Lane...and more than that, she knew that with every climax in the rolling chain of orgasms, unalterable changes were being made in the reporter...