Clients Are Lining Up For Her Ass

Lois tried to pull up her pants...only to feel a heavy hand tug at the waistline of her jeans. Her pulse sped up and she spun around, ready to fight or run...

There were eight of them. Hard young men, but not poorly dressed. Gold and diamonds glittered in ears, noses, teeth.

The one who had been touching her flashed a thick billfold. He was taller than the others, with broad, muscular shoulders that stretched the thin black leather jacket he wore.

"Couple o' my boys just got out of the house," he said, a smile on his lips. "Wouldn't mind running a train."

Lois swallowed heavily. There was no way to fight all of them. And they were blocking the exit to the alley. These were not the type of "customers" to say no.

"Front's closed. That time of the month," she said. Then sucked in her breath. "And I'm out of condoms."

The smile widened. He reached into his jacket's inner pocket and took out a thick sheath of lambskin condoms. Lois felt her heart sink as she knew there was no way out of this. Her ass, already fucked raw, was about to get a lot more traffic.

"A grand," she said, her voice hollow in her ears. "For all of you."

She turned her face down the alley as he peeled off the hundreds and stuffed them in her hands. There was a mattress there.

"Let's use that mattress," she said, not meeting his eyes. "Easier on my elbows and knees."

Don't give them a reason, Lane, Lois said to herself. Don't give them the slightest reason to **** you.

"Once you're gloved, I'll blow you," Lois offered, knowing she needed to get them lubed and save her ass as much hardship as possible. It was going to be a long night as it was. "Get you nice and wet for my ass."

None of them were ready to turn that down.

So Lois Lane found herself staring at the first cock. Her mouth opened, lips stretching over her teeth to avoid biting or breaking. Tasted the lambskin, warm and dry on her tongue as she swirled her tongue around. Another, who couldn't wait, was spreading her ass cheeks, one finger roughly pressing against her fresh-fucked asshole.

The reporter endured that, glad none of them were reaching for her pussy. She didn't want to explain the bottle still lodged inside of her.

Grunting softly around the cock in her mouth, Lois Lane tried to relax as her third dick of the night pressed against her asshole...and then it was inside, and she was getting spitroasted, slurping on the cock in front of her while getting railed from behind, like a cheap slut.

No, she reminded herself. Like a well-paid whore.

Eight cocks doesn't sound like much, when flipping through porn videos on the internet. Most guys blow their loads after only ten minutes, some less than that. But when a gang of eight has paid a thousand dollars for a whore, they take their turns, stroking their cocks back into hardness, never giving the bitch a break...as Lois learned to her chagrin.

By the end of the second hour, each of them had cum twice, and Lois Lane's asshole felt sore and raw to a degree that she had never imagined, much less experienced. It still gripped the half-hard pricks that plunged in, their hairy sacks slamming into her ass as they struggled to cum one more time. Her jaw ached, and she had to pick pubic hairs out of her teeth as they held up their balls for her to suck on.

The worst part were the spent condoms. Little sperm balloons, once used they simply tossed them onto her back, the jizz leaking out onto the reporter's jacket, some of it even getting into her hair. There was nothing she could do about it now...and Lois felt a pang of real sympathy for the women for whom this was their entire life.

She at least, at the end of this, could get up and walk away. Go back to her apartment, cry, drink to numb the pain, call in sick for work the next day. Others were not so lucky. Lois had to keep reminding herself how lucky she was, as the last one grunted, slamming his hips roughly into her, pushing rope in her asshole, so that when he did peel his dick out of her, she could feel the condom was still left inside.

"Anybody else?" The leader—she'd caught the name J-dawg—called, but after going three times each, his crew seemed to be fucked out.

Lois looked around, ass in the air, inordinately tired. She'd never run a train before. Never been with two lovers consecutively before. The reporter's ass felt sullied and hurt, and she wouldn't be surprised if there were tears in there, blood on the toilet paper.

"Well lady, you showed us a real good time," J-dawg said. Even his cock seemed limp, defeated. Lois couldn't stare it without remembered what it had felt like when he'd tried to shove it down her throat. "So good, in fact, I think we owe you a bonus. Ain't that right, boys?"

There was a wild chorus of guffaws and assents...and for the first time in the last three hours, Lois Lane's blood went cold, and true fear gripped her.