Luma Lynai Is So Close To Cumming She's Lost Control Of Her Flying Abilities

Lois Lane clung to Luma Lynai's hips for dear life as the blonde floated above the toilet. The reporter's toes dangled in the air and her face slipped, tongue dragging from the hot, tight pit between her cheeks to the tangy slit between Luma's legs.

Unable to control herself, the Superwoman reached back with one hand and grabbed the reporter's head, pressing it between her legs, as the blonde's free hand attacked her own clit.

"Right there! Right there! Oh...oh gods of Staryl...I think they must have done something to us..oh...oh!"

Lois Lane couldn't reply. She could hardly breathe. The raven-haired reporter's hands grasped the blonde's thighs, and her kicking legs just managed to get a toehold on the lid of the toilet. Suspended between the floating Superwoman and the filthy floor, Lois Lane's tongue buried itself in the hot cunny, the juices dribbling down her chin as the tongue twisted and turned, running from the hot, clutching entrance of her cunt-tunnel, over the sensitive taint to Luma's ass and back again.

Luma was right, Lois was sure. The unnatural heat...the quickness with which their chance encounter had turned from animosity to analingus...it couldn't be just the **** and the heat of the moment. Some outside **** had to be acting on them both. The reporter was sure of it. As sure she was of the sweetness of Luma's cunt, of the woman's honey that glazed her chin, of the rising moans from the blonde whose head now pressed against the ceiling.

In The Spaceship That Formerly Belonged To Zod

Soldiers are not meant to whimper and cry. Nor did Zod as he was strapped to the table of the biolab, the inhibitor collar around his neck fastened to the table, and restraints placed about his ankles and wrists. Once, briefly, his eyes glowed as he attempted to summon a burst of heat vision...but the collar glowed red, his solar reserves draining, accompanied by electric shocks that caused his body to spasm.

Faora curled her lip as Ursa, working with the care of a skilled med-tech, peeled the general out of his Kryptonian costume. She looked with undisguised contempt at the flaccid meat between his legs.

"Pathetic," she said, wrinkling her nose in distaste. Her hand never wavered, holding the wavelength generator on him, ready to zap the general at any moment. She was not about to underestimate Zod...not while she still had a use for him.

The sample collector was a fat, clear tube of sunstone, clear as crystal. With gloved hands, Ursa picked up the soft prick and slid it into the tube. At the press of a button, crystal rings cinched tight around Zod's testicles, and a clear tube slid down his taint. The general's eyes bulged as the slender probe prodded between his buttocks...and then, pre-lubed, slid into the formerly impenetrable anus.

"Our ancestors used such devices, when the birthing matrices were first devised," Faora said. "To harvest genetic material. The Science Council banned their use after certain perverts began to tinker with the devices. It turns out that with only slight modification, the bio-sampler can do more than simply extract gametes..."

Faora's lips curled back to reveal her perfect teeth as a flicker of emotion crossed Zod's face...the first crack in his stoic facade.