Grab Valeria By The Pussy

Arguments clustered in Lois Lane's brain. She needed this story. Yet Valeria stood there utterly impassible, arms crossed beneath her breasts, heels shoulder-length apart. Prepared to shoot the reporter down.

Then the door began to open. For a moment, Valeria panicked, half-turned—and Lois Lane saw her opening and went for it.

In a flash, the reporter closed the distance. Her hand shot up under Valeria's skirt, and her fingers scrabbled against the edge of the Latina's panties, to pull the elastic aside and plunge into the hot, wet slit. Lois Lane buried her face in Valeria's neck, lips locked on the brown flesh, and she sucked hard.

Against the sudden assault Valeria stiffened...then the door swung wide and Lois saw two Black security guards there, guns drawn.

Immediately, the Latina swooned in the reporter's arms. Pressed that hot body against her own. The woman's hands found Lois Lane's neck and hip...and to the two guards, it must have looked like two lesbians locked in a lover's embrace.

"Sorry," the first one said. "False alarm."

They backed out and shut the door behind them...and as Lois Lane's fingers worked in and out of Valeria's hole, the reporter whispered in her ear:

"One woman on her own here is suspicious, but as a couple we can be each other's cover. What do you say...partners?"