Relieved

Tension drained from the reporter's core, and she slumped forward.

"Good. Because I could really use a drink," the reporter said.

Angelica snapped her fingers...and Lois Lane blinked as a crystal glass appeared in the reporter's hand, filled with a liquid so cool that it frosted the edges, a small slice of lime on the edge of the glass. Lois brought it up to her mouth and took a sip...and sighed. A daiquiri. A really good one. Better than the one she'd had at the El Floridita in Havana.

Blaze laid her hands on the reporter's neck and began to massage the muscles there, her thumbs gently worked either side of Lois Lane's spine as Lois sipped her cocktail.

"Just because you can get pregnant, or perhaps even want to be pregnant, doesn't mean you have to get pregnant right away," the dickgirl said. "Indeed, I rather enjoy the attempts. It can take days after sex for sperm to join with egg...the fertilized egg has to implant successfully...and weeks before the woman actually knows she's pregnant. I wouldn't mind spending a few weeks impregnating you."

Lois nearly sputtered her cocktail, unable to resist a smile.

"You'd better enjoy making love to me for reasons beyond procreation. I don't expect to spend nine months without getting fucked."

Her lover's hands moved lower on the reporter's back, in between her shoulder blades now.

"Oh no, Lois. Indeed, the thought of you swelling with life makes me swell. I imagine once you are pregnant, I'll barely be able to keep my hands off you...or my cock out of you."

Lois finished the glass and leaned forward to set it down on the floor. She shook her head, slowly, as Angelica's hands worked their way down her spine.

"Will there be more to our relationship than just sex?" Lois said, suddenly moody. "Or is that all this is? Filling a need for the both of us?"

"Well...I have to admit. I don't have much experience with real relationships," Angelica's hands were down in the small of Lois Lane's back, and her lips pressed against the side of the reporter's neck. "So the real question is, Lois Lane...what do you want us to be? Lovers? Girlfriends? Cock and cunt, passing in the night? Or something...more?"