Lois Gets Beer

The break room was deserted. A single table, chairs, miscellaneous cabinets, two refrigerators, and a microwave. One of the fridges was stocked with nothing but beer.

"We get samples from craft brewers, microdistilleries, all sorts of stuff." Maria gathered three long-necked bottles in her hands and laid them on the table. Mercy produced a church key from one of her pockets and began methodically pulling off the lids.

Lois wrapped a hand around the nearest bottle, feeling the cool glass against her skin. Her throat felt very dry...not uncommon to get dehydrated after sex. She smiled at the pleasant soreness in her pussy...and her dick. Tomorrow she might regret it, but tonight?

The reporter raised the bottle in toast, and the ladies with her clinked in toast. They bent the elbow.

It was cool and sweet, slightly fruity, with that off taste that all beer has but which you get used to. Lois swallowed, letting it cut through her throat, a pleasant cold pool in her belly. She felt herself relax, questions percolating in the back of her mind, wondering when would be the best time to ask them...

"So, y'know, I want to say for your first time you did really well with your dick," Mercy Graves began. "And taking both of us at once! I mean, I'm not calling you a slut or anything..."

The bodyguard had the good sense to blush and took a long sip.

"Yeah, first time for that too. I'm going to be feeling it tomorrow." Lois smiled and cupped her crotch, feeling the sore pussy beneath the flaccid cock...she was sure that she'd actually ripped the labia, and hoped it was only a small tear, one that would heal on its own. "You don't take it bad yourself."

"You ladies are making me jealous," Maria cut in. "Not that I'm...I mean, I don't like penises that much."

"Maria's a full dyke. 100% don't-drop-the-soap-in-the-shower lesbo." Mercy set an empty bottle on the table. Lois realized she only had a swig left, and downed it, putting the dead soldier next to Mercy's. Best to keep them drinking, keep them talking.

"I don't mind cocks on women," Maria explained, as she fetched out three mismatched bottles of booze from the fridge. "It's just that I love pussy more. It makes me glad those dicks aren't permanent."

Three new bottles, Mercy with the church key, a silent clink of glass-on-glass, and they drank. This time the beer was hoppy, not quite bitter, with a kind of caramel aftertaste. Lois decided she liked it.

"I guess I've been meaning to ask about that," Lois reached over under the table and grabbed Maria's knee. "What's with...growing dicks? I mean, I know they're functional, but are they functional? How long do they last?"

Mercy coughed, sputtering a little on her beer. "It's a LexCorp project. Trade secret and all that, but you're...well, you're sort of in it now, we should probably get you to sign a non-disclosure or something. This is all...girltalk, right? Off the record?"

"Strictly off the record," Lois held up two fingers. "Scout's honor."

"Okay," the bodyguard took a deep breath, "but we're going to need a lot more beer to get through this."

"Fortunately," Maria said. "We have a lot more beer."