Prepare For An Interview

Still weak from the long climb, she trotted forward on hands and knees...and touched something warm and soft which gave a little beneath her palm, and seemed to sigh.

Lois tried to wipe the splooge from her eyes. She could barely see. Yet when she opened her eyes...

The floor was alive. Carefully still, arranged face-up, laid side-by side, male and female alternate like a carnal chessboard. Her hand had come down on a woman's breast, splashing it with some of the semen that covered the reporter's own body. Yet it was warm, alive. The woman moaned softly, as Lois' weight rested on her tit. The living floorpiece's eyes were closed however, moving rapidly back and forth, as though dreaming.

Lois looked out across the floor...and about ten "tiles" away there rose four "chairs" formed of contorted human figures, situated around a round glass table. One of the chairs was occupied—Lois could make out a low-cut black evening dress over bright red skin, long curly black hair, and some kind of tiara that framed her face and the horns that rose in graceful arcs from her forehead.

"A little farther, Lois." The woman said, and Lois imagined her smiling. "And I'll answer all your questions. I've rather been looking forward to a tell-all interview." She chuckled, soft and low.

The reporter eyed the chairs...and started forward, across the sleeping floor. She didn't see that she had much choice. Too weak from the climb to put up a fight, and her she was, covered head to toe in jizz...Lois knew that whomever the woman was, she was playing with Lois. But the reporter also knew she wanted answers.

The uneven nature of the floor made for difficult going. Lois tried to stick to crawling across bellies and legs, but the different anatomies made it almost impossible not to brush against breasts, crotches, and faces. Worse was the effect she was having on the sleepers. Whether a result of the thick covering of cum all over her body acting on their subtle senses, or something else, whenever she got near them they began to...react. Nipples and clits puffed up; slits grew wet, penises came to attention to salute, their tiny eyes weeping salty precum. Once she slipped, and her head had slammed down next to a man's penis, which began to slowly grow erect right in front of her...and she had to shoulder herself back to her knees and carry on.

Lois arrived, finally at the two nearest chairs—directly opposite the red-skinned woman. The chair on her left was a woman, doing a kind of headstand, the back of her thighs the "seat," her upraised legs the "back"—and Lois saw that if she sat in that chair, she would be dripping cum right into the woman's bare, unprotected pussy. The chair on the right, though, was a man—frozen with legs bent, as if in the act of sitting himself. If she had the same effect on him as the rest of them, Lois knew she'd soon feel something poking her sitting on his lap...