A Computer

Lois could smell a big story here, but she needed to file a report, and there was no cell coverage or wi fi coverage—the reporter needed access to the internet.

Maria led Lois through a maintenance door in the bathroom—which, drunk and high as she was, Lois noticed was newer and sturdier than the rest of the fixtures, and had a biometic keypad. The barmaid laid her palm flat against the electronic rectangle next to the door, and the bolts unlocked with a heavy thunk. Naked as she was, the reporter stayed behind Maria, and kept at least three fingers in her cunt. It was awkward, but she didn't want to take any chances of the barmaid suddenly getting ideas.

They hobbled along a back corridor; doors led off to offices, storage closets, a breakroom. The breakroom had a slim plastic monitor, keyboard, and mouse, all soft pink and embossed with the LexCorp logo.

"Some of the girls surf the 'net on their breaks," Maria said. "It's kinda limited. Weird firewall or whatever."

Lois slipped her fingers out of Maria, sat down and scowled at the unfamiliar icons. This wasn't Windows or Mac—some custom LexCorp operating system. "Which one is the internet?"

Maria pointed at a pink wheel, and Lois double clicked on it.

The screen flashed, and for a moment she thought she saw...but then it was gone, and a box opened, showing the familiar front page of Google.

As she moved the cursor, the screen flashed again. This time she was sure she had seen it, in the split-second between frames.

Vagina. Life-sized, right on the screen in front of her face. Tight and shaved. Then it was gone.

Lois gritted her teeth and moved the cursor again.

Again a vagina stared at her. Different, this time. The dark chocolate lips were spread and held apart by fingers, showing the pink folds within.

Gone. She clicked on the address bar. Typed in an address. The keystrokes didn't appear to trigger...whatever it was. Lois hit enter, and the cursor turned into a tiny pink spiral as the page started to load. She felt her eyes drawn to it, spinning and spinning...almost absently, she nudged the mouse again.

Another vagina. This one was a pale tan, with a vivid purple clitoris and a distinct mole on the right lip. Details eluded her as it flashed off the screen as fast as it came, but Lois had the impression the inner lips hung outside of the labia.

The internet was slow, the page taking forever to load. The little pink cursor kept spinning...and spinning...and spinning...

A minute passed. Maria stood near the door, poking her head out occasionally.

Eventually the screen faded to darkness—a power save feature. Agitated, Lois wiggled the mouse. A vagina was there again. Open and gaping. It was almost artistically caught in the moment a cock had been withdrawn, the first beady white drop emerging. As it disappeared, Lois shifted the mouse again.

She kept wiggling the mouse with her right hand. A succession of vaginas filled the screen, blinking rapidly, sometimes so quickly that the afterimages of them faded on top of each other. Slowly, achingly slowly, the gmail page was loading in the background. The reporter kept track of its progress, but the other part of her was busy staring at those pussies. It was almost like a game. There was a pattern in the images, a sequence. Narrow tight pussies opening. Lips stretching, gaping, hanging open. Used. Dripping with white goo.

Some of them were like stills from a video. Once, Lois saw three frames in a row, in the act of eruption. Just the pussy, cum flying in from off-screen. Splattering against the pussy lips in arc after arc. Painting it white.

After that, another transition. Fewer pussies, more cumshots. Ropes of oozing white launched in the air. Flying free, caught in that brief moment of release.

The next set showed where they were landing. White splashes. Shot right into gaping pussies, to drip down and out.

The focus shifted again. More pussies, more cumshots onto, into them. The protective folds of the labia held back, as two cocks jerked off into the pink hole. A fresh-fucked cunt from behind, jizz drooling from her snatch. A girl with her legs over her shoulder, pussy in the air, a puddle of cum in her slutty hole.

Lois' breath and pulse had quickened. She could feel her nipples press against the thin material of her shirt, and the spreading wet spot from her drooling cunt as it soaked through her pants.

It didn't occur to her that she hadn't wiggled the mouse for some minutes.