The Bouncer Wants Her Salad Tossed

"Jamie, I'm taking my break!" The bouncer said as she hustled Lois into the club. The reporter didn't see who the bouncer was talking to; they were in a kind of vestibule area, with bathrooms to the left, an Employee's Only door to the right, and a door like a bank vault straight ahead. The big woman bolted the door behind them, then hustled Lois through the Employee's Only door.

It was a fairly standard break room: a small couch, table, refrigerator, and cabinet with a coffee pot and microwave made up all the furniture. The smoke detector hung from the ceiling in pieces, and the ashtray in the center of the table was overflowing. A door led to an employee's only restroom, and another, Lois presumed, led elsewhere.

Not that the reporter had much time to take this in. The broad-shouldered bouncer wasted no time in pulling down pants and panties, revealing her round, muscular glutes and the pink puffy donut tucked in-between.

"Eat my ass," the bouncer said. "There's some syrup in the fridge, if you need it."

Lois Lane swallowed. She pulled open the fridge, as much to buy time and muster her courage as anything.

Okay, Lane, you can do this, Lois told herself. You've gone into active warzones and prisons to get your story. Arm-wrestled mercenaries. Bought **** from gangsters. Dug through the aftermath of a porn shoot to find the one condom full of spunk needed to prove an adult film star **** that sorority. All she's asking is for you to eat her ass. Woman up and do it.

Etrigan's chuckle echoed in the back of her brain as Lois returned to the couch with the Hershey's syrup bottle.

With both hands, Lois squeezed. Dark brown syrup oozed out in a drizzle over the parted cheeks. The bouncer's breath was coming in short gasps, and what little Lois could see of her pussy was soaked. The reporter knew this had to be an adventure for the woman—sex at work, a stranger eating out her ass—some sort of weird kinky dream that spiked her adrenaline and turned her on more.

The chocolate syrup helped. Not visually, since all Lois could see between those cheeks now was a river of brown, but the smell and the taste. As she balanced her knees on the edge of the couch and brought her mouth down, Lois could close her eyes and imagine she wasn't licking ass.

Just think of it like a Sunday treat, Lane, Lois told herself as her tongue ran up from the bottom of the bouncer's pussy to her asshole, gathering the sweet, sticky liquid all the while. Trying to ignore the earthy, salty undertaste.

"Yes," the bouncer whispered. "Get in there!"