Epilogue: An Angel in Sin City

There was coffee. There could be life, after coffee.

The Daily Planet's greatest reporter could feel her legs, and the throbbing ache between them told her that she had been fucked raw. On the toilet, sipping a poisonously black cup of Columbian beanjuice, she swore she could feel the cum drip out of her pussy and ass. In the bedroom, Angelica still snored. She even sounded cute snoring, and that made Lois smile.

Lois Lane called her editor Perry White while on the pot.

"Hi—yeah, I found the missing women. Yes, get the article to you on Monday. Listen, Perry, I'm in Las Vegas. Yeah. And I got married last night. No, totally sober. Her name's Angelica. No, won't change the byline. Look, I need a couple days off. See Sin City properly, then I'll fly back to Metropolis. Yeah. No, haven't broken the news to Clark yet. Thanks Perry, you're a peach. Okay. Okay. Bye..."

Gambling is out, Lois thought. She had vague visions of that golden halo around her sleeping angel's dark mass of hair. But we can find out who's performing, take in a couple of shows...maybe go out to Hoover Dam? There has to be some touristy shit to do in Vegas that doesn't involve slot machines and hookers...

The toilet had a bidet. Lois pressed the knob and nearly spit her coffee as the cold water hit her pour backside. Teeth clenched, the reporter shifted her ass on the seat, to let the water squirt over both her holes. Wadded handfuls of triple-ply still came away with gobs of pearly cum.

How much did she cum inside me last night? Lois thought, rubbing her flat stomach. Not that it would be flat for very long, if what her angel said last night was true. The reporter wondered if she really was pregnant right now. Sure, her dickgirl wife had cum inside of her, but that didn't necessarily mean that her egg had been fertilized. Or that it would carry to term. Plenty of women miscarried...

Lois wandered out of the bathroom, cleaner and dryer, caffeine humming through her veins. She felt good. It had been so long since she had sex, and now even with all the aches and pains, it was hard for Lois to hold any grudges about getting the shit stuffed out of her.

Angelica had kicked the covers off. She was lying on her back, her small breasts wobbling as she breathed. The dark hair framed her wide forehead, lips gently open. Her wings had come out at some point, white feathers sprawling out over the bed...and Lois Lane's gaze slid lower, over the hard abs of that stomach. Blaze was still built like a human greyhound, all whipcord and whalebone, but between her legs...

She was hard. It rested against her belly, stiff and pale, the hairless balls hanging beneath, concealing the angel's pussy. Lois bit her lips. Her wife's cock. It would definitely take a little getting used to...but then again...there was something about how absolutely innocent Angie looked when asleep. It was hard for Lois to even remember what she had looked like with horns and blood-red skin, a face full of evil leers and secretive glances. The sleeping angel in front of her was just so...so...

Lois ran a hand between her legs, surprised at the wetness there that had nothing to do with the bidet. The newly-married reporter felt positively wicked as she crawled onto the bed. Seeing Blaze so helpless and innocent brought out the devil in Lois. She wanted to do things to her. Dark carnal scenarios ran through the reporter's head of bending that cock back and trying to make Angie cum in her own pussy...maybe they could be pregnant at the same time.

The reporter filed that particular thought away for another time. Right now, what she wanted, really wanted, stomach rumbling and saliva building up inside her mouth, was a bit of cream to go with the coffee she'd just drank. Angel cream.

She lifted the dick away from the belly. Surprised as she always was by the heat of that circumcised cock. Ran her tongue over the tip, to feel the tingle of that angelic precum...and then slid it down the length of the shaft. Lois knew that she should be tasting her own pussy and ass, but the cock was miraculously clean...maybe that was some strange and terrible power that Blaze had now, but Lois didn't care. All she knew was that she was drinking in her wife's scent, that weird mix of masculine and feminine musk, and as her lips slipped around one of her testicles she let her tongue play over the smooth, hairless scrotum, so heavy and full, and tugged gently at it.

In her sleep, Angie stirred gently. Words murmured past those soft lips, which looked a little pinker and plumper in the sunlight than Lois had remembered. "...fornication is a sin..."

Lois took the other ball in her mouth, the hot shaft against her face, half-wishing that Angie could see the reporter's cheeks swollen like a chipmunk with her nuts. After all, fornication wasn't a sin if you were married.

The metal band gleamed on Blaze's ring finger, a matching one on Lois. There was a license around here, somewhere. They were married. All perfectly legal. Lois had every right to fuck Blaze...to her body...

The reporter ran her tongue up the shaft, which was so stiff it was standing away from the belly now, veins throbbing. Blowjobs had never been Lois Lane's specialty, and she had never had a cum fetish, but the hunger inside of her now couldn't be denied as her lips slid over the swollen mushroom tip of that circumcised cock, her head began to bob, first slowly, then faster, not taking it deep but sucking hard on that glans. Something like a mania was coming over Lois, her limbs shaking as though her sugar had crashed. Drool was sliding past the reporter's lips and Angie started moaning sexily, her pale hips humping slightly as Lois redoubled her efforts.

When it came...after all the fucking of last night, Lois Lane honestly thought she'd get a tablespoon of watery spunk. Yet those angelic sperm factories had been busy, and the sweet, salty jizz that pumped out of that sleeping beauty's cock was thick as treacle. Lois shuddered as her cunt involuntarily sprayed on the bed, eyes rolling up in her head as she felt the impossibly saccharine cum run over her tongue and down her throat...and grabbed the shaft with her hand, pumping gently to encourage even more of the ambrosia into her mouth, into her body.

The shaking subsided. A weird sense of fulfillment spread through the reporter's body, as she gasped for air, letting the cock fall, half-hard, back onto the angel's stomach.

Angie's eyes opened. Pure white, with no pupil or iris, yet somehow so sleepy, looking at Lois with the curiosity of a kitten coming up from a nap.

"Hey," she said. Her lips twisted into a smile. "Darling wife. Good morning."

Lois smiled back, licking her lips to get every stray drop of that cream. "Hey yourself."

Angie stretched her wings a little, and propped herself up on her elbows. Not upset at all about the morning blowjob.

"So what do you want to do today?"

The reporter slid forward, cat-like, on all fours. Her cunt still dripped. She had forgotten all about the shows and Hoover Dam.

"I was thinking," Lois Lane said to her wife. "That we'd stay in bed all day and make love."

So they did.