Blaze Takes The Lead

Lois Lane let the robe fall. The escort admired her as she approached the bed, some last lingering hesitation about what she was about to do—and then the whore's hand came out and grabbed the reporter's wrist, guiding it down to her cock.

"Touch it," Angelica told her, in a sultry tone that brooked no denial.

Surprised at herself, Lois did so, wrapping her hand around the piece of meat hanging between the prostitute's thighs. Even limp, it looked longer and thicker than any of the reporter's other lovers had been while hard...and a part of her sincerely hoped that Angelica Blaze was a shower rather than a grower, otherwise her poor pussy wouldn't be able to handle it.

The skin was silky smooth, a fat happy slug that began to stiffen under Lois' grip. She could feel the excitement build inside of her as it began to rise, feel the whore's pulse in her hand. It wasn't growing much thicker or longer, just standing up, skin growing taught, juice leaking from that little slit.

"Stroke it," Blaze told her.

Again, Lois obeyed the direction. Shifted her grip, marveling at how thumb and forefinger could barely touch at the thickest part of the shaft as her hand shuffled up and down. It felt good to be doing this after so long, and the reporter stared at the hard cock with mounting desire.

How many months has it been, since I've been with a real, live human being? Lois thought, though she already knew the answer. Too long.

Her reverie was interrupted by the tips of two fingers, probing suddenly into her pussy. The reporter's eyes widened at the unexpected intrusion. Angelica watched Lois' face as she began to slide the fingers in and out, not pressing too deep, in time with the scrape of the woman's hands on her cock.

"You're ready for me," Angelica said. "Nice and wet. Has it been a long time?"

"Yes," Lois said, relaxing into the fingering now. It felt so good to having something inside of her.

"Lay down on the bed," the escort ordered.

Heart fluttering in excitement, Lois let go of the cock and sat on the edge of the bed, then let herself fall back. Angelica moved over, on top of her.

This is what I want, Lois thought, heart hammering in her chest, repeating it as though to reassure herself that was true. This is what I hired her for.

The prostitute slid her cock over the pussy, the swollen purple head leaking precum, rubbing against the reporter's clitoris. Staring down between her breasts, Lois thought it looked huge.

"A...a condom," she found herself saying. "It's not a good time. I might...I might get pregnant."