"I Could Impregnate You From Here"

Angelica Blaze delivered the line with such utmost seriousness that the reporter almost laughed—but there was a challenging look in the dickgirl's eyes, and Lois felt...oddly free. Maybe it was the wine, or just the emotional weight off of her shoulders. Or maybe it was just her journalistic curiosity.

"Oh? Prove it," Lois Lane said, sitting back in her chair.

That damned Mona Lisa smile graced that generous mouth. The eyes flashed, just for a moment, pure white. Then they were dark again.

"Dessert will be here in a few minutes. Can you keep in your seat until then?"

Lois shrugged. "Sure."

Blaze's grew unfocused. Her hands remained on the tabletop, that smile remained locked on her face, but the eyes took on that thousand yard stare, as though she was looking at something past the reporter's shoulder. Lois kept her own face carefully blank...she wasn't sure what she was expecting, really.

After all, as a demon Angelica should have any number of ways to accomplish this...teleport some sperm straight into the reporter's womb, maybe. Lois wondered what it would be like to have that kind of power. Of course, she didn't have any sperm, but if she was pregnant and she could just...transfer it to some other woman. She imagined how it would be, to watch some pretty blonde news anchor and shift her bastard off into her. Watch her start to swell, week after week. Hell, she could give the bitch triplets, conceived with three different fathers...Lois grinned at the idea of getting gang-banged by black men, just so that the baby would be black. Wouldn't it be fun to see her explain to her husband how she gave birth to three black babies?

The reporter shook her head, not sure where the thought came from. A nasty little idea, bubbling up from the dark side of her consciousness. Lois had those fantasies sometimes, when she was sex-deprived. She didn't imagine she'd get one so soon after having sex.

Something touched the reporter's ankle. Instinctively the reporter froze. Was Blaze playing footsie under the table?

Whatever touched her, it was searching...and found what it was looking for. The bottom of her pants. Lois felt warm, soft skin against her ankle as something about an inch wide squeezed into the bottom of her tight pants...and began to creep up her leg. It definitely wasn't a toe...and looking at the slowly curling corners of Angelica's mouth, Lois realized what it must be.

Her dick.

Slowly, insistently, working by touch along, the enormously extended cock must have moved down from Blaze's pants, under the table, and was now sliding its way up the legs of the reporter's tight pants. A sort of admiration ran through Lois Lane at that moment, a thrill of possibility. If that cock reached her cunt...Blaze probably could inseminate her.