She Has To Sit On The Pie

He taped her labia open. It was a little uncomfortable, but not painful. The worst part was bending over while he applied the tape, and then holding the position as he "freshened up," the cream pie with a fresh load of spunk, rubbing his hand over his unnaturally white prick until his balls squeezed a few more greenish-white pearls...which Lois Lane didn't want anywhere near her open pussy.

But the customer is always right.

"Tell me another joke," he said, as Lois Lane dropped in a squat over the fresh ejaculate on the cream pie, which was sitting on the floor. He was on a stool, putting her face at about level with his balls. She gripped her knees and racked her brain.

"What is 6 inches long, 2 inches wide, and makes women go crazy?" she tried.

"A $100 bill," he said. Despite his ejaculation, the thin white prick was still stiff. He stroked it slowly. "Sit."

She sat. The pie was wet, soft, and warm. Lois blushed, feeling like she had just had an accident. That was what it was like, really. The sticky consistency, the way it squished out around her firm buttocks, the uncomfortable wetness against her bare ass and pussy—and inside her pussy, which was the part that worried her the most. Not like it was likely that the Joker was even virile, but all it took was one sperm to reach an egg...but that was a thought not worth thinking about.

"Another joke. Make it a good one."

"What kind of bees make milk?" she asked, then immediately regretted it.

"Boobies," he said, a dangerous edge to his voice. "Move your ass a little. Really get it in there."

Swallowing hard but trying not to show any fear, Lois lifted her ass and sat down again, which made a sucking, squelching noise like a wet fart. She rotated her hips, making the pie plate clatter against the floor. Tried to think of another joke.

"Why is masturbation just like procrastination?" She asked.

He rubbed a thumbtip over her pale, swollen glans. The veins in his dick looked green, sickly. The Joker's balls hung beneath him like rotten eggs.

"I don't know. Why?"

"It’s all good until you realize you’re only screwing yourself." Lois said.

His grin faltered...and Lois paused in her rotation. His brow lowered. There was something wrong with his face...like he couldn't stop smiling, not completely. The muscles were off, there were scars there.

"You know," he said dryly. "They say the best humor is observational. I think you have a talent my dear. Because you are absolutely right. It's time to screw someone else."