No One Catches Them

They moved to a park bench. Metropolis was not yet one of those cities that angled the benches or put spikes on them to discourage the homeless, but the night was cool and by some miracle the light above was out, so that they were hidden in darkness. Angelica Blaze sat on the bench, her knees spread wide, pulling down her pants and drawing forth her cock and balls...and Lois Lane sank down, her knees on the cool grass, heart beating wildly.

I shouldn't be doing this, the reporter thought, as she grabbed the fat, floppy dick in both hands. Even soft, she could feel the warmth of it, the size of the balls. Much more of a shower than a grower was Angelica Blaze, the self-declared demon and daughter of a wizard. Lois opened her mouth, tongue running over the piss-slit. Circumcized, no foreskin to catch any nasty smegma, nothing to get in the way of her tongue running all over the soft head of the cock. I mean, on my knees in public, sucking the cock of someone I barely know, hoping the magic jizz comes out...

Of course, Lois could feel some of that jizz inside her pants right now. Her pussy was filled with it, and the sticky mess was making her itch to clean herself out. Yet curiosity would not let her stop, especially now that she had come so far. She needed some proof, that what Blaze was saying was true and not some weird wind-up.

Maybe something more than that, Lois thought as she gripped the cock near the base firmly with one hand. She had the whole glans in her mouth and was sucking on it, her free hand making an "O" and gently stroking the shaft...and the reporter could feel it beginning to harden, the veins becoming more tangible beneath her fingers, the head in her mouth swelling, the soft skin acquiring that rubbery texture as blood flooded into the dick.

It must have been the heat of their previous encounter that was working on Lois, or maybe the hardboiled reporter had a soft spot for hard luck stories. Yet a part of her couldn't help but wonder...if Blaze was telling the truth. If she did want to have more of a relationship with Lois than just a one-night stand at a gloryhole...

If if if, Lois told herself as she stroked the hard shaft faster now. Admit it Lane! This is like a bad comedy sketch. You're literally sucking Satan's cock! Do you think you can make the bad dickgirl Princess of Darkness reform and change her wicked ways with the power of your pussy? Like all she needed these long centuries was a bit of muff to bury her cock in and empty her big, fat, virile balls into some fertile womb? Get real with yourself, Lois Lane, you're nobody's ideal for motherhood; you couldn't be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen for five minutes when there was a deadline for a story...

She told herself that, yet it was her mouth slurping hungrily over that swollen shaft, eager for more of those jet black pearls to slide down her throat. Lois was trembling with excitement, hearing Blaze's breath quicken, feeling the hips rise and fall a little as Angelica almost instinctively tried to fuck the reporter's mouth. Yet it was Lois Lane in control, her hand at the base moving down fondle those fat bitchbreeder balls, her tongue that tingled as it played with the piss-slit, tasting that precum, her lips that brushed against the rubbery crest of the glans, her shoulders that Blaze tapped when it was time...

Lois held the cockhead in her mouth as it exploded. Not the watery second load she might have expected, but enough thick, creamy jizz to coat her tongue. Salty, but not as bitter as she thought it would be, with a slight ammonia taste like an overripe cheese and...yes, although this load was hot and fresh, the reporter was almost sure it had the same flavor as the secret ingredient in those cocktails from earlier. So maybe Blaze wasn't lying about that.