Unwilling To Share

"Kara..." Lois said as the naked Kryptonian stood up, eyes beginning to burn brighter and brighter. The demon stood there, black lightning arcing between her horns, gathering in her hands.

"She. Is. Mine," Supergirl said, biting off each word.

The reporter sighed.

"Kick her ass," Lois told her lover. "And come back to me."

There was a rush of air. A crash as the glass door to the balcony exploded. Then Lois Lane was alone, naked, in a now drafty-apartment. The distant booms could have been peels of thunder, but they were a little too regular. The reporter reckoned those were Kara's fists pounding into Blaze's stupid face.

The reporter lay back in the bed and sighed. Her hands slid down between her legs. She had been surprised when Kara had gone so far. No one had ever fisted her like that before. Lois shifted onto her side, left hand rubbing her clit, right hand sliding down the crack of her ass to find the little pucker, still lubed and ready.

A part of her knew she should be out there on the balcony, with a pair of binoculars, trying to report on the battle. Yet here she was, fingering her holes, thinking about a pair of blue eyes in a sea of blonde hair...that smell, like laundry drying in the sun on a summer's day...those hands, so small, so delicate, so soft and yet so strong, stretching her wide...

I wonder if Blaze did something to me, the reporter wondered, as a soft moan escaped her lips. Or if I've always been a slut and just never admitted it.

Trapped in her lust, all Lois Lane could do was finger her holes and wait for the victor.