C-C-C...

It was a rude question. If Lois Lane had been more sober, or in less pain, she might not have deigned to answer it. Yet as it was, she felt almost compelled to answer. The tattooist's gaze held hers as if forcing Lois to speak.

"C-c-c..." The first syllable stuck in the reporter's throat. She wanted to say cock. After all, Lois Lane had always been straight. She'd never been with a woman...not really; that seven minutes in Heaven during university certainly didn't count. Certainly, she'd admired the beauty of the female form. A lot of the porn she masturbated to was selected as much because of the attractiveness of the women as the men...and she had enjoyed some girl-on-girl action, privately. Not that she'd ever do that herself.

That didn't make her gay. Maybe a little bicurious.

Of course there was that time she'd found the Daily Planet's file of Wonder Woman's wardrobe malfunctions. Nothing they would ever publish. Lois still remembered how hot her cheeks had been...the shaky excitement as she'd copied the folder to a portable drive. That night, in her bed, browsing through nip-slips and pussy-flashes, biting her lower lip at the swell of bicep and breast, rubbing herself raw.

Not that Lois did that often. Maybe once a week. Twice if it was a hard week. And she had, the reporter admitted, checked to see if the file was updated periodically. Still, it wasn't like she was thirsting for...

"...cunt," Lois Lane blurted out, heart thumping against her breastbone as realization dawned on her. "I want to eat cunt!"

Blaze smiled. "Really? Well, I can help with that..."