One Of The Missing Women

Lois chair swiveled of its own accord, as she pumped her dick with her hand. The lights in the room still flashed, the audio soundtrack still played, a catchy beat that the reporter couldn't ignore.

...notYETdon'tCUMyetYOUcan'tCUMyetPUMPyourCOCK...

Before Lois, facing away from her and kneeling was a naked young woman... The reporter couldn't see much of her, except for the cascade of blonde hair, and a little tattoo of a bird on her left shoulder blade, and a tramp stamp in the small of her back, but the naked woman seemed to be thin, with a muscular back and thin, strong limbs, like a dancer's.

She hadn't heard the woman come in. A part of Lois chewed at that thought. That she could be so engrossed as to not hear a woman walk right up to her and...position herself...

The reporter felt something inside of her shudder as the woman reached back and pulled her pussy lips apart, presenting her drooling depths...and for the first time, Lois could make out the ornate Gothic lettering on the tramp stamp.

CUM DUMPSTER

Lois' hard cock pointed at the ceiling, so stiff it was actually painful, and she squeezed the shaft tighter, aching for relief. She wanted to plunge it into that welcoming hole so badly...and finally, a part of her mind realized, did he understand the frustration guys must feel. Here she was, equipped with a prick for five minutes and ready to slip it into any warm slit...

But she hesitated. Lois had no idea who this woman was, or why...well, it was obvious why she was here, but the whole situation was so confusing and Lois could feel the throbbing pressure inside of her, **** for relief, yet not wanting to...well, **** this woman. Although was it ****? She was there, spreading her cunt lips apart... and yet...there was something familiar...

Diane. The name rang through Lois' lust-crazed mind. The blonde hair, the build, the tattoo...the cum dumpster kneeling before the reporter was Diane Reynolds, one of the missing women. How did she come here? Why is she doing this?

The tempo of the music shifted, changed; Lois wore she heard a bow-chica-wow-wow motif run through several chords, and the lights began to flash slower, with longer, brighter pulses, sensual and yet strangely urgent.

"Please ejaculate into the container provided." The voice came over the speakers...and the reporter could feel the dick jump in her hands, clear precum dripping down the purple head, staining her fingers.

...UNLEASHyourSEEDyouNEEDtoCUMplungeYOURcockINSIDEthatWARMwillingCUMDUMPSTER...