No, Lois Is Soon Bent Over A Table As Well

Before, Lois Lane had been wary—now the anxiety built within her. Her pussy was exposed in the Star Sapphire suit, and despite her fake smile, she could not help but feel that everyone knew it. Every eye seem drawn to her crotch as she set down the drinks and cleared away the empty glasses. It took all of the reporter's powers to act calm and collected, even as her heart thundered inside her breast.

Any minute now, one of these animals could just...just push me down and fuck me! Lois thought as she nervously filled her tray with glasses. What could I do? Scream? Fight? That's what the waitresses are here for. Little better than whores. This was a bad idea, a mistake, I should leave...

The moans of the Supergirl waitress had died down, the poor woman doing her best to pick herself back up, legs wobbly after the super-fucking she had received, cum oozing down her legs...and Lois saw, out of the corner of her eye, that the young woman didn't go back toward the kitchen, or to the bathroom, but through another door the reporter hadn't seen before. Immediately, Lois Lane's curiosity was triggered...but she should have been watching the crowd.

She didn't see who tripped her. Only felt her feet go out from under her. Twisted in midair and came down, tits-first, onto the table she had just cleared. Heard the clatter and tinkle of broken glasses. Lois didn't even know something was wrong until she felt someone grab her arms and stretch her out across the table....and then realized she couldn't move her arms or legs...and something hard and stiff rubbed against her exposed cunny.

"J-just don't...move," a voice slured behind her. "There's iron in your bl-blood, you know..."

Lois Lane's eyes were locked straight ahead. She didn't know the voice, but in the reflection of a glass she could vaguely make out the costumed figure drunkenly wrapping a condom around his average-sized prick.

Doctor Polaris. The so-called master of magnetism. He must have been gathering his liquid courage all night for a sexual ****, and now here he was...and Lois could barely gasp as he slid into her.

There was no art to his lovemaking, just a fierce determination to enjoy the reporter's hot, wet hole. He plunged into her like he might have a blow-up doll, hands grabbing her waist, his body slamming into her butt. It reminded Lois of once, when she was at a sorority party at university, when everyone was too drunk to consent an she'd fallen onto a bed and some random young freshman had fallen on top of her. They had moved then, but Lois had become so nauseous she had just lain still as he flopped on top of her until he had finished and rolled off. She had been too stunned and humiliated at the time to report it...and now here she was again.

It ended, almost as abruptly as it had begun. A huffing wheeze came from behind her, and then she felt him pull out...glad, at least, that he wore a condom. The magnetic paralysis wore off a moment later, and Lois pulled herself off the table, legs shaking, mind a tumult of emotions...not sure what she should do now.