End: Lois Benefits

On her back, staring over Angelica's shoulder at the gravid idol, feeling the prostitute's prick spread her cunt lips open one more time, Lois Lane had a personal epiphany.

"It's all for me," she whispered.

"Damn right babe," the dickgirl whispered back. "Every drop of it."

Lois smiled, her hired lover not in on the joke. The person that benefited from this situation, the reporter realized, was herself. She was getting fucked, she was getting a baby. The idol, whoever it belonged to and whatever it represented, was just a catalyst for those subconscious desires that Lois herself hadn't realized or given voice to.

It was the only thing that made sense, that made all the pieces fall into place. Ruling out magic or super-science, the simplest answer was—Lois wanted to get pregnant.

Her lips met Angelica's as the prostitute kissed her. The dickgirl was holding her legs out at an angle, the reporter's pussy spread wide and speared deep. Sloppy like only a second fuck after a creampie can be, the dickgirl eager to pump in another load, but having cum so soon, it was taking longer for her to reach her peak—and Lois Lane didn't mind at all.

She embraced Blaze. Let herself become, not a passive piece of meat for the dickgirl to spill into her seed into, but an active partner. Lois fucked Blaze back, arching her back and hips to meet the escort's thrusts, tongue twisting inside the dickgirl's mouth, urging her on to fuck harder, deeper, faster. The Daily Planet's greatest reporter was ready to breed.

Time lost meaning in the long fuck-session. Tiredness began to settle on their muscles, fatigue poisons building up, lack of sleep hitting them both. Yet there came a time when Blaze must have been ready to burst, and their kiss broke as they both gasped air with ragged breaths, and as Lois felt her body finally give in to the constant pounding simulation. Her whole body clamped tight, her scream coming out as a wordless series of monkey grunts.

Blaze's response to the reporter's orgasm was to give forth her final effort. She sped up until her cock was nothing more than a pink blur, balls flopping hard against Lois Lane's buttocks, and then plunging in deep enough that the reporter grunted in unexpected pain.

The client held her lover as she emptied her balls deep inside. The hot gush of sperm gasping out like a prayer into darkness. Lois Lane closed her eyes, hoping her womb would answer.

"So..." Angelica Blaze huffed. "...do you regret it?"

"No," Lois Lane said, not letting Angelica go. "No, I don't think I regret anything that happened this night at all."

The women remained missing. In the days and weeks to come Lois would hunt for them, the gravid idol watching her from its now-permanent perch. Perhaps on lonely nights Lois might call up Blaze again, in need of her services. Perhaps in six or seven weeks Lois would take an important test, just to confirm what she already knew.

That was all for the future. For now, the night was at an end.