End: Pregnancy Chance 95%

Creampies: 04
Pregnancy Chance: 95%

Lois Lane's face fell. She collapsed on top of Lana Lang, her cock plugging the cunt tight. Around them, the stall walls continued to shake, people fucking, pushing, kissing. They existed in an isle of exhausted calm, and the dickgirl reporter felt hot, stupid tears leak out of her violet eyes.

"So close..."

The redhead plucked the phone out of the limp fingers. Glanced at the screen, then scrolled up through the messages. The blue-eyed woman raised the phone to stare at the dickgirl whose head was limp and unmoving between her breasts.

"You poor thing...you were really going for it, weren't you?"

The reporter could not muster a response. She felt drained, utterly unable to move, as though she had just run a marathon...and even her crimson cock wavered, not as hard as it had been a moment before, a towering column of jello that threatened to collapse utterly limp at any moment. Lois could offer no resistance as Lana, legs still firmly locked behind her lover's buttocks, slowly reversed their positions so that now it was Lois lying with her back on the filthy floor, the redhead on top riding her demonic dick.

Ugly grunts and violent impacts shook the stalls, cum spraying beneath the door, landing on the reporter's hair.

"Never send a dickgirl to do a woman's job," Lana said, letting her midwest accent thicken. Lois imagined her on a farm, in the sun, lifting bundles of hay, sweating and stretching her overalls... She began to roll her hips and rhythmically squeeze her pussy, and Lois Lane moaned in pure pain as, against every instinct, her body began to respond to the stimulation.

Hands grasped and kneaded Lois Lane's breasts, pulling at her nipples. The reporter moaned as Lana played with her tits, as utterly focused as a teenager, thumbs rubbing on either side of the reporter's sternum, pulling and pressing...

"You know, despite your frankly unbelievable dick," Lana said as she began to lift her hips, squeezing her cunt so that it pulled at the cock in question. "There's something so womanly about your nature. I don't know how long the changes made by this app are going to last...but I don't think I'm done playing with you, Lois Lane."

A smile flickered across the reporter's features. "Are you...asking me...to take responsibility?"

Lana smirked at the age-old hentai line...but Lois could see that the redhead's nipples were hard too, and sweat was dripping off her ribs, face almost glowing. She was as lost in the moment of rut as Lois herself had been, and she began to move faster, slamming her hips down a little harder, the cock visibly moving inside of her belly, so that Lois wondered where the hell she was putting it all...

"You have to...get me pregnant...first!" Lana said.

Lois Lane's only response was a moan. Her cock was as hard now as it ever had been, and it hurt. She lacked the words to properly frame the experience. The tip of her dick was actually numb, and the cock itself was somehow cold, as if the blood that swelled it had begun to run out of heat. There must have been tears along the slick scarlet shaft, because every time Lana moved it was like rubbing wounds together, the acidic environment of Lana's pussy like dipping the demonic dick in battery acid...and yet despite all that, Lois could feel that terrible, aching pressure begin to build inside of her once again...

She honestly didn't know how guys managed multiple ejaculations. When she had been younger and more obsessed with sex, she'd watch videos online of men masturbating, and some of them kept hard for hours, ejaculated multiple times, the refractory period getting longer and longer each time...and Lois had never been able to last that long, jilling her little slit with her fingers. Once she came, that had usually been it, her sexual desire fading, the masturbation videos becoming just an embarrassing curiosity.

Then again, maybe Lois just hadn't found the right person yet.

Lana must have been tired too. Lois could see it in the dark shadows forming under her eyes, the way her body's movements were jerky, less coordinated than they should have been. It was well past midnight, and the orgy around them was dying down, the moans and smack-smack-smack of lips on cock and flesh-on-flesh restricted to only one or two diehard couples. Both of them were up way past their bedtime, and yet here Lana was, fucking her as hard for a few minutes as they had been at the beginning of the night...and as Lois Lane looked up into those big blue eyes, she understood why.

Lana wanted it. She wanted to get pregnant for Lois. This was her gift to the reporter, and maybe her gift for herself too. There was that much in them that was utterly alike, that wanted to reach for the brass ring, the last five percent, to max out the test to go above and beyond...and as Lana Lang suddenly cramped, shuddering, hands squeezing the reporter's tits painfully, crying out for what was probably her last orgasm of the evening...Lois Lane made one final superhuman effort to lift her hips, to thrust as deep and hard as her exhausted body could manage...and something broke through, released, familiar now, and Lois was beyond pain as it shot forth, as her cock convulsing, the last **** drop of sperm shooting out of the tip of her dick as though the final ejaculation of her whole life...

...and then Lana Lang collapsed on top of her, gasping for breath. The DMN app chimed on the phone, and they looked at it together.

Creampies: 05
Pregnancy Chance: 100%
Congratulations!

They were too tired to laugh.

"You...could really use a shower," Lana said, her sweat-slick forehead pressed against Lois's shoulder.

"You too. My place...or yours?"

"Yours."

When they could move, woman and dickgirl slipped out of the stall, and stepped through the bodies in the now-crowded bathroom, which reeked of sex and other, less pleasant activities. Neither of them found all their clothes, but they found enough to stagger out of the bathroom, cum-stained but mostly decent, so long as Lois Lane could keep her demonic dick from poking out of her too-tight pants.

Tomorrow, perhaps, they would have to have a serious chat about that app, their relationship, what to do about the pregnancy, and the Daily Planet's Greatest Reporter would remember that she had gone to that club to find those missing women before she got sidetracked.

For Lois Lane and Lana Lang, tomorrow could be awfully far away.