The Stranger Cums

The staccato beating of the stranger's man-meat grew faster and faster, ever more strenuous and **** for relief...and Lois stared rapt at his performance, some voyeuristic impulse tweaked at the sight of a man so close to lose control. Yet she could not see his face, not clearly, though it seemed he strained to control himself, he was in the grip of a compulsion greater than himself.

Yet at the same time she clung desperately to the idol, hugging it to her belly. The shirt had run up to bear its own stone gravidity, the swirls carved into it plain even in the poor light of the alley. Lois dug in her heels, unwilling to give an inch...and yet she could feel her feet being dragged forward over the pavement of the alley, drawn toward the man jerking off.

The tension between them was palpable, like a wire drawn so taut that it started to sing. She could almost see it in the air between them, like heat waves, a hazy point in the darkness. Soon they were almost touching, barely a foot between them...close enough Lois could breath in his male scent, and make out the details on his swollen glans, the drops of pre-cum running over his fingers and staining his white gloves.

It could not last long...nor did it.

The stranger erupted with a wordless cry, and the reporter watched the arc of his semen, blinding white as moonlight into the darkness of the alley, strike the belly of the idol—and the whirls and sigils glowed eerily. Lois watched in rapt fascination as the ejaculation continued, a continuous glowing arc, the cum literally be sucked out of the stranger and into the navel of the effigy that she was holding.

Before her, the stranger was visibly wilting...cheeks gaunt, his suit hanging looser on his frame than a moment ago.

"Too late," his voice rasped. "It steals my power...pr-prepare yourself..."

There was a sudden pressure in Lois' head, as though she were on an airplane. She worked her jaw to pop her ears...and then noticed that the strange, hazy distortion had spread and surrounded them, so that the very walls of the alley were blurred and out of focus, the moon overhead shimmering...

"Prepare for what?" She struggled under the weight of the idol, which seemed to have grown heavier.

"F-for...hypertime..." His breath came in ragged gasps. "I...I give you...one chance...use it...well..."

With a superhuman effort, he grasped his penis with both hands and lurched forward. The stream of cum broke off from the idol and leapt..right into Lois' face, into her open, gawping mouth. The hot jizz sprayed across her lips and scalded her tongue, so that she instinctively swallowed...and the whole hazy distortion seemed to rush into her as Lois suddenly staggered under the impossible weight of the idol, which slipped from her gasp.

The reporter fell...images slipped past her vision, half-glimpsed as though through dream...people and places half-familiar and half-unreal...and they all involve her. Like everything that was, would be, and could have been...

...herself in a strange metal bikini, a collar about her neck, a golden chain being held up by a familiar man in a crown...

...her first time, in the back of a car, prom dress hitched up, panties around her ankle...but she didn't recognize the fresh-faced young man lining himself up with her virgin hole...

...in a bathroom, on her knees, lips wrapped around a black cock, while another woman dug her tongue into the reporter's ass...

...Dressed in furs, belly bulging with life, screaming as a dark head crowned at her dilated cunt, almost splitting her in two...

...in a limousine, a bald headed man between her spread legs, urging him on; watching the driver watch them...

...and on Lois fell...