Epilogue: Small Talk

Angelica Blaze mixed the drinks. Pineapple juice, dark spiced rum. Little umbrellas. Lois Lane sat on the stool, the jizz drooling out of her, not really caring about the mess.

"I didn't think you'd be back," the dickgirl said. "After last time."

The dark eyes flashed, giving Lois a glimpse of the pure whites, the demon eyes. Her asshole gave an involuntary twitch.

"It was...unexpected," the woman admitted. "I've been thinking about it, though."

"Have you played with your ass since?" The tone was pure curiosity, honest interest in Angelica's face and voice.

"No," Lois admitted. "I'd never done anything like that before. Not sure I want to go that far again."

"But you were down to fuck," Blaze sipped, eyeing Lois slyly over her glass. "Practically threw yourself at me."

"Look who's talking," Lois snapped back, finding to her surprise she was enjoying the frank exchange. "Your dick was hard the moment you saw me. Feels like I've got three days worth of cum inside me. Haven't you been fucking all weekend?"

Angelica set her empty glass down, played with the umbrella. "No, actually."

Lois raised an eyebrow. The dickgirl shrugged, reached for the reporter's own, pulled the half-finished drink from the unresisting hand.

"Did you miss me?" The reporter asked, suddenly.

Now it was Blaze's turn to be silent, pouring the drinks. No more **** in Lois' glass she noticed. Just fruit juices.

"I'm a demon," the dickgirl said. "I don't get...attached."

The reporter reached out to accept the drink, tasted it. Let herself smile.

"But you were happy to see me."

"It was mutual." The dickgirl sipped her own drink. "Would you like for it to keep on being...mutual?"

Lois Lane's heart beat a little faster in her chest. It had been a very long Monday. But she had to be careful.

"Are you going to do that thing with my butt again?" she asked.

Blaze cracked a smile. "Only if you ask for it."

The reporter snorted. Thinking a lot of things that she didn't want to say. But some things had to be said.

"I take it we aren't talking dates, flowers, chocolate."

The dickgirl's nose crinkled in disgust. "No."

"Fine. But I want us to be exclusive. No strange dicks, no side chicks. No STDs. Non-negotiable."

The demon cocked her head. "Okay. One condition."

Lois braced for it. "That is?"

"No condoms. No birth control. If you're on any, you stop it. Right now. If you catch, you catch."

The reporter fiddled with her glass. Stomach suddenly a little queasy. Pussy suddenly a little wet.

"And why would I agree to that? You trying to knock me up? Go all Rosemary's Baby on me?"

Blaze actually laughed at that one. No maniacal laugh, no villainous chuckle, but an honest laugh, straight from the belly. For a moment, the facade kind of broke, and Lois could almost believe she was staring at a normal, human woman, as **** and cagey as she was. Almost.

"No, I wouldn't know what to do with an antichrist. Or how to change its diaper." The dickgirl admitted. Then she looked Lois straight in the eye. "But I know you like the danger. So do I."

Lois pursed her lips. She hated to admit it...but the demon was right.

I'm so going to regret this later, she knew, even as a part of her mind was working out alternatives to birth control. And there's always anal...

"Agreed," she said.

Angelica Blaze raised her glass. Lois Lane raised hers. They clinked and drank, in silent toast to their new arrangement.