End: Act As If She's Always Had One

With a grumble, Lois Lane reached down and scratched her balls. Through the dim sleepiness, she aimed the tumescent prick down at the bowl and let loose her stream. She gave a contented sigh...it was always so hard to pee through an erection...

Unseen by the reporter, dark nerves had infiltrated her nervous system. Bits of memory slid into place...the way to walk and sit without crushing her balls, the gentle shake of the last few drops when she was done. Blaze's memories of morning wood, of erections so sudden and stiff she had to cover her lap. All of them slid into place in the reporter's mind, alien memories but hers now...and Lois bit her lip as she ran a thumb over her swollen prick head.

It must be because I'm sleeping next to Angelica, the reporter thought to herself. First time I've had anybody in my bed in months. Stupid schlong has a mind of its own...

Lois gripped her prick with her hand and shivered. She wasn't sure she would be able to get back to sleep with this hard-on...and she didn't want to wake Angie up. Not after everything the poor young woman had been through. No, the only thing to do was to take matters into her own hands.

The reporter's right hand reached down to squeeze her balls. She couldn't feel the slit that used to be there, which already closed up like a wound. Her left hand stroked the head, thumb and forefinger closed together in a circle, rubbing that sensitive, rigid glans. Lois Lane's left forearm moved on its own, acting through muscle memory, as if she had done this a million times before.

"Hnnf," Lois repressed a moan as she went up onto her tip-toes, pressing her taint against the sink. Her prostate was buried down in there somewhere, and she could feel it throb. She closed her eyes...and the image came to her of Angelica Blaze, the sweet young thing in her bed. The reporter could still smell her on her skin...remembered the heat radiating from her body.

God, the things I would do to that body... Lois thought to herself. A shudder ran through her as her hips began to buck, grinding herself against the edge of the sink as her hand stroked faster and faster...and she was unable to repress her moan as a familiar hot burst erupted, erupting onto the mirror...the chrome spigot of the sink...and then, finally, dribbling down over her fingers, thick and sticky as glue.

Lois finally opened her eyes as she panted, heart thundering in her chest. She looked at the splooge, instinctively lifting her balls with her internal muscles, trying to squeeze out the last few drops.

"This," she said, staring at her reflection. "Is going to be really hard."

In their bed, Blaze slept...yet her nostrils twitched, flared, drank in a strangely familiar scent...and down between her legs, a dampness grew. For both of them, the night was almost over...and the days and nights to come would hold their own challenges.