Lose the Pants

Even a bit tipsy, Lois Lane hesitated at Alexa's suggestion. The woman took the ice cube from the reporter's nipple and popped it into her mouth, crunching it between her teeth.

"C'mon. It's just us girls here."

Maria was on the other side of the table, six shot glasses lined up in the middle pouring vodka. Alexa leaned forward, keeping eye contact with Lois as she rested her fingertip on the waistband of the reporter's pants, but didn't tug. Lois was drawn to hold that gaze, but she didn't move.

"She's probably a little self-conscious, 'lex," Maria said. "Maybe we can help her relax a little more?"

"Good idea," Alexa agreed. The woman pulled her own ripped black shirt up...no bra there. Her nipples were very light, nearly the same color as the rest of her breasts, and pierced by little studs. Obviously, she knew what she was talking about. Lois Lane's throat suddenly went dry as she found herself staring at those breasts. They weren't huge, just a little bigger than the baggy shirt had shown.

The reporter couldn't stop herself from noticing little things...the way that Alexa's armpits were shaved, but obviously didn't match her head hair. Lois Lane's eyes flicked to her head...yes, it was a wig. A good one, real hair, but a wig. Nothing odd with that, plenty of strippers used wigs...

Maria took the empty drink from the reporter's hand. Lois couldn't remember emptying it, again. She blinked, suddenly a bit woozy...but her eyes kept going back to those pierces nips.

"You can touch them, if you want," Alexa raised her hands behind her head and leaned forward. "My piercings have healed."

Lois licked her lips. Her palms were sweaty. She could feel the pleasant buzz of the ****, the pain in her own breasts faded to a kind of constant low-level ache as the bar weighed them down...but she had to admit that she was...curious...