No, Lois Doesn't Want A Pill—She Wants Cum!

Lois Lane blinked. She stared at the baggie of pills in the Black transwoman's hand. Then her eyes were drawn up the brown arm. Aisha's dress seemed to hug her lanky brown frame. In the reporter's eyes, the fabric looked like the shed skin of a snake. The reporter's eyes dropped to the bottom edge of that dress, scandalously short...

...and the cock that tented that dress, the shaved balls barely visible as they dangled underneath.

The reporter knew that some transwomen on hormones had a hard time getting erect, or lost their sex drive altogether. Maybe it was the ****. Aisha seemed to follow the reporter's eyes...and with a wicked, shark-toothed grin, the transwoman reached down and pulled back the edge of her dress, so that the chocolate cock stared at Lois like a one-eyed serpent.

It wasn't that the cock was particularly long or fat. Hormone therapy often shrunk cocks. Yet there was something hypnotic about the stiffness of it. Lois wondered if those little balls could still make cum. A red tongue ran over red lips as Lois Lane imagined what that jizz would taste like. Bitter, probably. Yet just now, Lois could really go for something bitter and salty.

Before she knew what she was doing, Lois was on her crimson knees. She stared cross-eyed at the chocolate cock. It smelled a little different from other pricks. There was something musky, reptilian about Aisha's dick. The swollen purple helmet wavered in front of Aisha's face...and then Lois saw the transwoman's hand come down. A little pill between two fingers. Lois stared, almost hypnotized, as the pilled was lodged in Aisha's urethra.

"You want something to wash it down with?" Aisha said. "Get to sucking!"

Head swimming, hard tile beneath her knees, the red-skinned reporter opened her mouth and pushed her face forward to engulf the head of that cock. Utterly unaware of what Maria was up to...