A Small Cock

The stubby prick that pressed through the hole wasn't a micropenis, but the heavy gut above it definitely made what was a slightly below-average four inches look more like three or three and a half. The imprint of the flabby stomach actually against the glass was weirdly like some kind of modern art exhibit, but Tonya drew Lois Lane's attention to the dick at hand.

"He's uncut. Peel back the foreskin carefully."

Gloves on, Lois did—and immediately wrinkled her nose. There was a foul, yeasty odor, like rising bread and overripe cheese—and that was what she was looking at, white rolls of smegma in the dark pink folds of the foreskin.

Tonya handed Lois a small chunk of something fibrous, wet, and yellow.

"Fresh pineapple," the professional cock-sucker explained. "Hold the base of his penis with one hand, and wipe his dick clean. It'll feel like a tongue to him."

Lois cottoned to the idea immediately. The dripping fruit gently scrubbed the sensitive skin, and he would have pulled back, except that her left thumb and forefinger were gripping the base of the shaft tightly. The reporter worked quickly but methodically, wondering if he really did think it was her tongue that was cleaning his smelly little cock, scoopy up that nasty dick cheese in her mouth, swallowing it down...

In only a moment, the dick was clean, shiny, and smelled faintly of pineapple. Lois tossed the used bit of fruit into a handy basket. Her heart beat faster as Tonya gave her the tongue-in-cheek hand-waving-in-the-air gesture.

It was time for her to suck the cock.

She put her lips to it first. Just a kiss, right on the tip. Opened her mouth just wide enough so that the tip of her tongue could stroke the ltitle slit of his piss-hole, up and down. Then Lois Lane opened her mouth a little wider, lips curling over her teeth, tongue swirling over the swollen purple helmet. The cock was so short that when her lips covered the head, there was barely an inch of travel left before Lois would be kissing her own fingers wrapped around the base.

More than enough.

Pineapple hit her tastebuds as Lois began to bob her head, lips sealed around the shaft now, sucking a little harder and a little harder as she sped up. But behind the fruit was something else, something of that overripe cheese flavor, the ammoniac reek that spoke of stale piss and unwashed grimy balls, dark wet salty spaces that couldn't be reached because of the fat fucking gut, and Lois Lane closed her eyes as she got into the heat and hardness in her mouth, the little twitching at the base of the dick, the movement as the fat bastard began to move his hips, trying to hump the glass.