Cheetah Buries Her Face In Lois Lane's Pussy

"Hrrrrr..."

It was like an engine idling. A big, heavy engine, the purr so deep and loud that Cheetah could feel the vibrations in her chest. One great paw came to rest heavily on Cheetah's head—and the cat-woman realized she was panting. Breathing in the wet musk from the sabertooth's slit. Lois Lane's thick, gooey cunt-juice oozed out, thick as honey...and tiny drops of it splashed against Cheetah's tongue. It tingled and burned.

Just a taste, Cheetah thought, as the hot, heavy hand rested on her head. It was like having a baseball mitt fresh from the oven clamped over her head. With the added weight, Cheetah naturally leaned forward. Her hands clutched at the transformed reporter's knees, as her head began to swim. Her tongue extended to catch some of that drooling honey.

As a criminal, Cheetah had tried a few recreational ****. Yet she had never gone for any of the hard stuff. Cocaine, crack, heroine, fentanyl, venom, velocity 9...those were **** that could fuck you up for life. Just one hit was enough to cause an instant and powerful addiction. No, Cheetah contented herself with catnip and weed to relax, wine and low-level painkillers when she needed something to take the edge off, oxygen and nitrous when she wanted to get high.

So when the pheromone-laden honey that oozed out of Lois Lane's pussy touched the cat-woman's tongue, she had nothing to compare it to. It was like an electric current went straight from her tongue to her clit, and Cheetah mewled pathetically as her entire body spasmed in a way she had never experienced. Sometimes, by herself, with a good bit of lubrication and patience, Cheetah could reliably achieve a decent orgasm or two. Sex with men was fun, but Cheetah had always found herself needing to finish herself off later in the evening.

Yet one taste of Lois Lane, and the cat-woman's pussy seemed to burst. She squirted on the floor uncontrollably, her mind went blank for a moment, and as the contraction of her muscles eased off, it was only the great paw clamped to Cheetah's head that held the cat-woman upright. Cheetah twitched as her entire being was overwhelmed with a feminine musk that was more addictive than crack cocaine.

In a last, **** rational thought, Cheetah recognized the danger. One dollop of Lois Lane's secretions had reduced the villain to a whimpering, fuck-addled sex kitten. If she didn't escape now...

Lois Lane jammed Cheetah's face into her drooling box. The thick, throbbing clit **** itself between Cheetah's lips and a torrent of hot, thick sabertooth girlspunk flooded Cheetah's mouth. The sabertooth supersoldier watched in fascination as Cheetah began to spasm uncontrollably, eyes rolled up into her head, tail stiff, utterly lost in a sexual addiction unlike anything she had ever faced, her tongue spasmodically polishing the thick clit in her mouth and sucking on it like a nipple.

The transformed reporter's purr deepened...and she moved to a more comfortable position.