Blaze Isn't

With unnerving ease, Angelica Blaze stood up. She still gripped the reporter's buttocks, holding her prick inside the freshly-spunked pussy. Lois Lane, off-balance, reached out with both arms to steady herself against the wall as the dickgirl moved them over the toilet, the back of the reporter's head resting against the wall.

"What are you doing?" Lois laughed.

"Changing position," the dickgirl grinned. "I can thrust harder if you're braced against the wall."

"Harder? Hon, you just came, you can't—" Then Lois felt the dick twitch, and realized that it hadn't softened an iota from a minute ago when it was plugging her puss. She'd known a couple guys in college with a bit of stamina, but all of them had required at least fifteen minutes between rounds.

"I can," Blaze slid her hands to her lover's thighs and began to lift Lois Lane's legs. There was a moment of awkward scrabbling, which left the raven-haired reporter braced with a hand against each wall of the stall, her head and shoulders against the filthy wall, and her calves up around the dickgirl's shoulders.

How the hell did I end up here? Lois wondered—not that she was complaining.

Blaze pressed forward...and she was right, Lois realized as she felt the pressure on her spine. She could apply a lot more **** in this position. The reporter saw stars as the tip of her dick punched almost to the back of the reporter's pussy, stopping what felt like just a hair short of too far.

"Oof. Just...just take it slow, okay?" The reporter said with a nervous smile. "I'm not going anywhere, we can just...enjoy ourselves."

The dickgirl halted, her dark eyes burrowing into Lois Lane's for a moment...and then she looked away.

"I'm sorry. You're right, of course. I want you to have a good time too. I just...I feel like...this might be our only time, together."

The reporter blinked. This wasn't the kind of conversation she was expecting, after getting railed senseless and probably impregnated in a random sexual encounter in a filthy bathroom of an underground club.

"You, um." Lois swallowed. Surprisingly, it was a lot harder to handle actual emotions than it was to beg to get knocked up. "You want to date me?"