Chapter 13 by Zeebop

What Is Lois Lane's Answer?

Do I Have To Give You My Answer Right Now?

Lois was panting, hoping to stall for time, for more information—but her ass kept bouncing, pussy impaled on that cock, fingers pressing against her clit—and wondered if she wasn't racing against her own biological clock.

"I think you have to choose soon," the client's voice was strained. "Your pussy is too good. I won't be able to hold forever."

The reporter blushed at the dickgirl's words. She knew that she should slow down, hit the breaks, let them both cool off and think about this...but she didn't.

"I mean...even if you...one time doesn't guarantee..." Lois puffed, still playing for time.

"You're ready. I can smell it. And I guarantee you, if you say yes, I will not let you leave this room until you are knocked up."

There was a cold certainty in the client's voice that made the hair stand up on the back of her head. She had heard many men bluff about their abilities, or spin a yarn claiming how potent their sperm was, how getting knocked up was a guarantee...but there was no bluster in the madame's talk.

"One...one fifty!" Lois spurted, a drizzle of juice gushing out of her pussy. It was the first thing she could think of, the only way out short of getting off that hard dick, and she wasn't ready to do that yet.

"That's more than the other girls are getting," the dickgirl growled.

"Other girls?" Lois felt her heart pound. "H-how many?"

"Four, so far," the client's voice sounded strained, control faltering. "Fine. One hundred and fifty thousand. Agreed?"

Lois Lane panted, her head aswirl. Four surrogates, four missing women. She had come into this room a reporter, had become a whore, and now she faced the real possibility of becoming a mother...and yet at that moment, all she really wanted to do was cum.

"I..." the reporter choked. Her pussy was shaking, whole body jittery, in that unstoppable final run-up toward orgasm. The kind where she had to finish, come hell or high water, no matter what.