Lois Gets Wet

"When, ah...when is your 'debt' cleared?" Lois Lane asked, suddenly very aware of the dampness in her pussy, the hardness of her nipples. Maybe it was the **** in her system, the ecstasy making her more sensitive. She was still petting the one cat while the other gently stroked herself, and the reporter wasn't sure where to look. There was something fascinating about how the fine, downy hair ran all the way to the pink lips.

_I'm not a furry. _She told herself, brain flicking back momentarily to drunk and horny nights watching Cat People, surfing idly through porn on the internet and running across pornographic images of cartoon anthromorphic animals. That doesn't count. These are real women, that's all, just real...

She took a deep breath, breathing in the heavy musk that these two cat-women seemed to be exuding. "I...I mean how do you know you aren't being taken advantage of?"

The woman that Lois was petting shifted position, and the reporter found her the fingers of her left hand moving, shifting down across the soft fur of the lower abdomen...right above her mound. Finger nails pressing against hard abs beneath the fur, the cheek rubbing against the reporter's arm.

"Maybe we'rrre the oness taking advantage..." the golden woman purred. Her eyes were closed as Lois increased the strength of her scratching.

A hand pressed against the reporter's hair. She turned and the dark-furred cat woman was right there, on the bed next to her, running a hand down the raven-haired reporter's shoulder-length locks."Pretty birrrd," she purred. "I wonderrr what yourrr kitty tastesss like..."

Lois gulped. This close, she could see their tongues...and they were like cat tongues, with the little backward-facing spines that were like sandpaper on the skin. The reporter didn't want that anywhere near her "kitty."

She felt like a mouse, caught between two feline tormenters. Worse, she was almost certain they could smell her body's sexual excitement. It was all a question of who would pounce...

"Sometimesss, men want to fuck usss," the blonde cat-woman said. "We rrrecognissse them frrrom the ssscene. They pay good money forrr the rrreal thing. We have to be carrreful about men now, becaussse we'rrre in heat."

"But we like to play with girrrlsss too." The darker-furred cat-woman finished, rubbing her cheek on Lois Lane's other arm. Spreading her chemical scent on the reporter, marking her like a cat does with its owner...

The golden-haired woman gave a yowl, and Lois turned to see that her left hand had sunk a little too low, one digit of one finger embedded in her hot wet slit. The cat-woman grabbed at her arm, unwilling to let Lois go, shifting her hips to rub her pussy against the reporter's hand.

The dark-haired catwoman slipped her fingers into the waistband of the reporter's pants.

"Plaaay with usss..." she asked the reporter.

"Pleeeassse..." the other cat-woman begged.