End: Wreck A Hotel Room

Dawn, hot and bright, filtered in through the curtains. Lois Lane winced and opened one bloodshot eye.

Once, perhaps not long ago, it had been a nice hotel room. Now there were giant white feathers everywhere. Great slashes in the wall and ceiling through which pale wooden beams showed. Someone had painted a dartboard on one wall, and a dozen pregnancy tests had been stabbed into it, three of them in the bull's eye.

The door to the bathroom was missing. Not broken, just...gone. Lois saw an empty bottle of champagne floating in the toilet, the green glass tip bobbing merrily along the rim. Her head pounded, and that was when she realized she couldn't feel her right arm. The reporter turned to look at who was beside her in the bed...

Her breath caught in her chest as she beheld the sleeping angel. The sunlight played on her bare breasts and delicate pink nipples. The face seemed perfectly innocent as it gently snored, lips parted just a little, dark hair a terrible mane that threatened to swallow her head. Great white wings were half-curled, blocking the sunlight from her face. The reporter's arm was pinned beneath her.

There was no way to wake her without moving, so Lois didn't. Laid back and took stock.

Her pussy hurt, but in the good way that it did after sex. Anus felt...sticky, kind of sore. She hoped that she hadn't had an accident. There was a weird taste in her mouth that was more than just the aftertaste of too much booze. It was the kind of thing she'd only experienced in college, that one time she had gone to sleep after giving a blowjob. Lois Lane's entire body felt like she had run a sexual marathon...and her hand...

Lois Lane raised her left hand, the light catching the gold band on her ring finger. A sudden, very distinct image came to her...an Elvis impersonator with a cleric's collar. A kiss. The reporter brought her hand up to rub swollen eyes.

What did I do last night? She wondered. Then amended, feeling the unfamiliar throb of her asshole: What didn't I do?

Something was jabbing the reporter in the thigh. Lois looked down and saw, nestled between the angel's thighs, a very sizable and hard erection. Her belly gave a little flutter, pussy squirming. She swallowed the gummy taste in her mouth, wondering whether a bit of hair of the dog was called for...

One white wing extended, blocking off the sunlight. Sleepily, the angel rolled over on top of Lois, straddling her, the cock standing above her belly. Pins-and-needles attacked the reporter's right arm as blood began to flow again, and she rapidly opened and closed her fist, trying to hurry it along.

Eyes still closed, the angel's hips pumped the air a few times...and then the head of the cock slipped a little lower and Lois gasped as it slid into her wet sheath. The dickgirl moaned gently, thrusting in and out on automatic pilot, and Lois was pinned to the bed by her weight, impaled by that cock that seemed to fit her pussy like it was an old familiar baseball glove.

Sleep-fucking, Lois realized, seeing the head loll, eyes still closed. Then she noticed the gold band on the angel's left arm. Just like Lois Lane's own.

"Angelica," she whispered, as memories began to filter back to her. Not all of the evening, not even half of it. But the wedding...she remembered the wedding, now. Getting a hotel room. Something about the baby...

Angelica shuddered and stabbed forward, emptying her first load of the day into her wife's cunt, wings spreading until the feathers scraped the ceiling...and then she collapsed forward, still embedded inside of Lois. The naked woman simply fell on top, her breasts crushing into Lois Lane's own, cheek nuzzling against the reporter's own.

Lois gently picked her wife's hair out of her face as Angelica began to snore. She was pinned again.

"That's okay," she whispered to herself, one hand rubbing her wife's back gently. "We can sleep in today."

The night was over. Maybe she'd take a few vacation days, do Vegas properly. Lois closed her eyes, letting her hand slip down to cup her wife's warm, smooth ass. There was a lot to do, and she had no idea if this relationship would last. But right here, right not, this little piece of heaven was all hers.

That was enough.