Lois Grabs A Chair

Lois Lane **** a smile and briefly shook her head. The reporter didn't know what sudden impulse had made her want to sit on this stranger's lap...but the overheated reporter wasn't stupid or slutty enough to sit on the lap of random dickgirls! Instead, Lois pulled a chair away from the table and sank down into it.

"This heat," the stranger said, as she raise her ass up off the chair to slip the jeans down around her legs. The reporter found herself staring at the woman's small breasts as they were outlined in her sweat-stained wifebeater. "Is un-fucking-believable am I right? You'd think they'd fix the air conditioning..."

The reporter nodded and fanned herself. She had never imagined her investigation would see her seated in only her panties and her shirt next to a bottomless, big-dicked shemale in a wifebeater. Lois looked around and saw Aisha at the bar, getting a cold pitcher of something on a tray. Maria was on the other side of the table, talking to someone at the table next door.

"Do you come here often?" The reporter asked, then blushed as she realized how that must sound.

"I've been coming here for a couple of weeks," the dickgirl said. She reached a thin, lanky arm toward Lois, and the reporter took it...and was immediately surprised at the strength of her grip. "Angelica."

"Joanne," Lois lied. The dark eyes met the reporter's own, and held them. That strange half-smile still twisted her lips.

"Funny. You don't look like a Joanne," the dickgirl said.

Lois gave what she hoped was a coquettish smile in return. "You don't exactly look like an angel yourself. A little...devilish."

The dark eyes widened...the hand tightened, painfully on the reporter's grip...and Lois realized something she had said had hit home, somehow. Lois gave a little involuntary gasp of pain as she felt as though her hand was about to be crushed. Yet almost as soon as Angelica had lost control, she regained it, and dropped the reporter's hand.

"Sorry. Hope I didn't hurt you," the dickgirl said, a hint of something in her voice that might have been nervousness or unease. The reporter kept a smile on her face, but rubbed her aching hand.

"Quite a grip," Lois said, and saw in her peripheral vision that Aisha was approaching with the drinks. "I'll probably have a bruise..."

Just like that, Angelica lurched forward, onto one knee.

"Let me kiss it," the dickgirl said. "And make it better."