Epilogue: Accidental Fertility Overexposure

Lois Lane woke with her wife's arm across her chest, pinning the former reporter to the bed. The CEO of Hermaphrodite Fertility Services smiled and opened her eyes...and Angie gave her a tight-lipped little smile back. Then she said the words that brought Lois to full consciousness.

"Okay, so...don't panic."

The pregnant woman's violet eyes widened...then narrowed...and then a wave of nausea ran through her. Angie recognized the expression, and her arm lifted so that she could grab the bucket. Lois rolled onto her side as morning sickness hit, emptying a chunky yellow spew into the handy plastic container...and it wasn't until she was done, and Angie was wiping her face with a moist towelette, that the reporter's hand strayed down to her stomach...and the demonic dickgirl's words came back to her.

The CEO tossed aside the covers and stared with awe at her stomach, who rose in a distinct rounded dome, the size of a small watermelon, veins visible on the surface, and white lightning-like scars...stretch marks...crossing the surface.

They hadn't been there the night before. Lois was only about twelve weeks along. When she had gone to bed, she'd had only a small pot-belly, the kind of thing that could be hidden with a hoodie. This was...she looked to be six or seven months along, at least.

"I, ah, felt weaker last night," the demon explained. "I wasn't sure why, but then I realized something was draining my magic...and by the time I realized what was happening, it was too late to stop it."

Blaze helped Lois into a sitting position. The reporter's breasts hadn't grown much...just her abdomen...but the reporter winced as she felt strained muscles and stretched skin along her sides, the uncomfortable weight on her bladder.

"I don't understand," Lois said. "What happened?"

The demon's pink tongue slid out between her lips. "I think...you got exposed to something. Maybe many somethings. I mean, we're in a fertility center...lots of experimental treatments...and you just started up the Spiritual Services Initiative..."

Lois groaned. They'd been shipping in fertility idols, and researching alternative fertility treatments for women that didn't respond to science-based approaches. The pregnant CEO had probably personally handled a dozen statues, objects d'art, and archaeological relics yesterday. Obviously, at least one of them was potent.

Her stomach rumbled...and other physical needs were screaming at her. Grabbing onto her wife's shoulders, Lois **** herself up on shaky legs. Leaning backward and moving forward in a stiff-legged waddle, Lois headed toward the bathroom, her bladder about to burst.

"I want...a big breakfast. The full English. With sour cream, and chocolate donuts. The ones with the sprinkles. Then schedule me a check-up. I want to see exactly what's going on in my womb...make sure the baby is okay."

"Babies," Blaze said, holding the reporter's elbow as she guided the pregnant woman toward the bathroom. "And you're hungrier than you think. I'll order two of the full English."

"What?" Lois said.

"I can feel multiple auras," the dickgirl said. "I'd say we're going to be the proud parents of...hmm. At least six."

"At least!?" Lois moaned. She sank onto the toilet, glad that these days she went to bed without any panties to get in the way in case Blaze wanted a late night pussy snack. A wet tinkle hit the water, and Lois sighed...and then she noticed what was right in front of her.

Blaze was hard.

That wasn't unusual. Her wife was usually hard for her. Lois swore she could get an erection out of sheer will alone. Except now, the erection was standing straight out, the veins prominent, the balls drawn up, the purple head swollen and taut...Lois could hang a bath towel on that cock, it was so hard. A great bead of precum was swollen on the urethra, and the reporter's nose twitched, her mouth began to salivate...

"Angie?" Lois said, suddenly distracted from the bulging stomach which she could now feel against her thighs. "I need you to move a little."

"Why?"

"Because if I lean forward any further to suck your cock, I'm going to fall off the toilet," the pregnant woman said. "So I need you to bring it to me."

"Oh! Of course."

Blaze took a step or two forward...and Lois reached forward and grabbed her wife's asscheeks. Her mouth fell open and engulfed the head of the prick, a shiver of excitement running down her spine. Stomach gurgling, she shivered like a diabetic when their sugar crashed, and Lois realized she was hungrier than she thought...

...and not just for food.

Her belly bumped into her wife's knees as Lois ran her tongue along the underside of her wife's fat cock. Lips locked on that shaft. Little muffled moans coming from her uncontrollably as her cheeks hollowed and she sucked hard. On a good morning, Lois could make a blowjob last half an hour. Right now? Angie could read the signs. She gave her wife what she needed.

Hot sperm splashed against the reporter's back teeth, and hungry as she was, Lois waited until she had a mouthful before swallowing it all. Let the hot, clingy film slip down her throat and hit her belly, an appetizer for what was to come. A strange, terrible, unfamiliar heat filled the reporter's body, and she swore her stomach felt tighter...the navel straining a little, still an innie, but stretched and looking like it wouldn't be for much longer.

Lois pulled her mouth off of her wife's cock and swallowed again, tongue licking to get every last drop of sperm into her...and then she stood up to wipe her pussy clean. She needed to get to the dining room.

"Three full English breakfasts," Lois said. "Mommy's hungry."