Snort It

I'm undercover, Lois Lane told herself as she reached for the tightly rolled hundred dollar bill. I have to blend in. It's just a little bit...just for tonight. As long as I don't do this tomorrow, I'm absolutely all right.

It was a pleasant lie. But the reporter knew herself well enough not to believe it, as the pants slid over her ass. She brought the green tube to her nose, holding the other nostril shut just like before as two questing fingers gently explored her slit. Carefully breathed out so as not to disturb the nice neat little lines, then lowered her head and breathed in hard....

Seconds later Lois shook, barely cognizant as that fat cock split her pussy lips open, pushing inside her tight tunnel. There was a reason she didn't smoke. Why she stayed a top reporter, forcing herself into dangerous situations like this one, enjoying the adrenaline rush as she dodged bullets and the schemes of supervillains. The same reason she pushed herself harder at the gym, seeking that clean and natural runner's high, and why she had to **** herself not to buy sex toys.

She had an addictive personality.

Her heart sped up, face felt puffy and flushed but she could barely feel it, the numbing creep moving back from her nose into her sinuses, back of her throat dry and raw, the cock pressing deep inside of her, those strong hands grabbing her hips to help guide it in and out. Lois Lane liked sex and danger, liked to push herself to her limits, and knew that she couldn't always stop...too much of her life had been about chasing that **** edge, the point where her body couldn't take it any more, because she never felt more alive than when she was about to come apart.

As the pounding picked up speed. Lois tried to blink, finding it surprisingly difficult. Her eyes didn't want to close. The world was bright and the cock was hard and moving fast inside of her, bottoming out deep inside. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the reporter knew that the dickgirl fucking her wasn't wearing a condom and that was bad, but she didn't care. Lost in a giddy haze, she pushed back to meet the thrusts.

Lois Lane shifted the green tube to her other nostril and bent down to snort the other line. She chased every stray white speck, not caring if she was inhaling dust. Angelica Blaze's hips slapped against her ass with wet smacks that shook the table, and the reporter shuddered, an invisible fire spreading behind her face, the coke making its way into her system, heart threatening to burst out of her chest, whole body shaking from the coke and the fucking and the coke and...

The reporter came, howling like a banshee, pussy spasming, squirting uncontrollably, knees suddenly weak...but she didn't stop. A manic grin slipped onto her face as she grabbed the edges of the desk and pushed back, feeling the painful bump as the tip of the dick impacted her cervix, but she didn't care. Lois was pushing herself back and forth, willing the cock in deeper, her thighs banging against the desk, heart threatening to explode as she grunted in animalistic lust, excess energy forcing her to squeeze harder with her cunt muscles, to urge the dick to get in faster, harder...

A tremendous clarity had settled in her, simple yet fundamental.

I fucking love cocaine.