She Can Try

Her smile didn't fade as she wiped the cum out of her pussy. The hundred dollars went into her purse. Lois Lane straightened her back and went out to walk the streets some more. That was what she was ordered to do.

Heels clicked on the pavement as she walked back toward "her" corner.

Behind the whore's eyes, the reporter was thinking hard.

She had to sell her body. Any effort to think around that hit a brick wall. It was like walking through a brick wall: you just couldn't. The prostitute smiled and slowed down as a red Subaru slowed down, pausing to show off her legs, but the man inside only glanced at her and drove on. Lois kept walking.

There was a homeless man, his legs stretched out in front of him, taking up most of the sidewalk. The reporter stepped over him—and he looked up at her and hissed.

"Hey bitch, how 'bout a blowjob?"

She stiffened, looked down. "You got any money?"

He shook a cup full of change.

"In the alley," she told him. He gawped, not sure if he was serious. "Quick. Before I change my mind."

The bum scrambled to his feet, cup of change jingling. Lois took a deep breath and nearly gagged, getting a whiff of his body odor. Then, as controlled and dignified as she could muster, she followed him into the alley.

He already had his cock out, stroking it quickly. Lois opened her purse.

"Money first," she said, stomach sinking as she saw the pale pink cock. It looked dirty, although at least there were no sores or warts that she could see. He dumped a couple bucks worth of change into her purse.

Lois got down on her knees. Opened her mouth...and closed it on the homeless man's cock, sucking so hard her cheeks hollowed, swirling her tongue around his uncut cock. She could taste the dirt there, and baked-in grime and sweat. The bum hadn't washed in days. Lois Lane didn't want to think about how long it had been since he had a bath.

Okay, she thought, as she began to bob her head, the cock hardening swiftly. So I can't turn an offer down. Not if there's money involved. But that one guy who slowed down in the car, I didn't have to start things. So I only have to be a whore if they treat me like one. Could I...be more selective? Pricier? I mean, it's not about the money...

Greasy fingers grabbed at her head, and she batted them away, not wanting his hands on her hair. The bum's cock was at full mast now, one of the smallest she had ever dealt with in her life, maybe four inches. Small enough that she could take the whole thing in her mouth easily, forehead bouncing against his potbelly as she slurped from the sensitive pink head down to the hairy base.

He was making noises now, grunting, and before Lois could register what we going on she felt a familiar hot, salty bitterness flood her mouth, almost thick enough to chew. Lois imagined it as some almost-yellow glob, the way cum got when guys were backed up for too long. She held her mouth there until he finished and then, following some internal instinct, swallowed the nasty load.

Then she was on her feet, purse heavier now with the change, and walking back to her corner.

"An angel," the homeless guy said, still clutching the wall. "Fuckin' angel..."

Lois wiped her mouth, hoping that little stunt hadn't ruined her makeup. The salty jizz in her throat made her want to cough. But the whole incident had given her an idea.

Fingers dug into her purse, found her smartphone. Clark Kent was on speed dial.

"Smallville?" She said when the ringing stopped. "It's Lois. Look, it's an emergency. Get a couple hundred bucks and meet me at the corner of..." she gave him the cross streets. Then hung up.

God help me, she thought, picking a pubic hair out of her teeth as she walked. Clark Kent is my only hope.

Worse, she couldn't stop smiling.