Spitroasted

Lois licked her lips as she saw the bulge in Jimmy's underwear. She placed a hand on the tightey-whiteys. A pleasant heat radiated through her palm, and up to the tip of her middle finger, where a small damp stain appeared.

"Alright, Jimmy," she said with a smile. "I suppose you deserve a little something for your silence. She grabbed his pants and pulled him into the stall.

The reporter pulled down the elastic band of his underwear and the pale pink shaft popped free, a fringe of bright orange pubes at the base. Pre-cum dribbled from the tip, and Lois ran a tongue around the head. A good length, but not much girth—skinny, like Jimmy himself. She let herself drool a little on the shaft, to lube it up. Her left hand reached into his pants, to massage his balls through his underwear.

Lois lowered her head, mouth agape, got to work. She continued to descend until the soft head of the cock hit the back of her mouth. Felt herself shiver as she was about to gag a little, but focused on breathing through her nose...and pressed on.

Jimmy groaned. "Miss Lane?" he said, tone querulous as the tip of his dick slipped into her throat...and then more of the cock slipped into the warm, wet tunnel, until Lois nose was buried in those fiery pubes, and her chin rested on his fabric-covered balls. She drooled freely for a moment as she accommodated to the dick in her throat...and then her attention was focused to the other end.

The fingers had withdrawn from her vagina, and the sudden absence hit her with a plaintive need—quickly replaced by surprise as something large, much larger than before, began to enter her. Lois could not turn her head to see, but she could tell she was being penetrated by something...by someone, a warm pulsing length of cock. Just like that, Lois was filled from both ends.

She closed her lips around her teeth and began to move her head. Behind her, the big shaft began to do the same, slowly fucking her, penetrating a little deeper with each stroke. Jimmy moaned as Lois bobbed her head on his shaft, and she clung to him, massaged his balls with her hand, almost willing the lanky young man to cum.

Yet all the while she worked on Jimmy, someone else worked on her. The slow pistoning turned into a pummeling, and the reporter could almost hear the hips slam into the wall of the stall. Almost unconsciously, she had begun to shift her hips to meet the thrusts, and developed a rhythm between the cock between her legs, and her head bobbing on Jimmy Olsen's dick.

Lois closed her eyes. The rhythm and sensations had caused her to retreat into her own little world, focused entirely on her body. The urgent slam of her ass against the wall of the stall, the thick shaft that stretched her and then retreated, only to **** its way in again. Jimmy's long dick as it slid over her tongue, the taste of her own lipstick where it had been rubbed off by friction, the warm hot skin tube in her mouth, the would slip down her throat and retreat, in and out, like she was fucking her own mouth against his prick, the manly scent of him filled her nostrils ever time she pushed her nose into his crotch. Leg muscles burned from the position she was in.

It could have been five minutes, or an hour. She had completely lost track of time, totally in the moment. Part of her wanted to stay like that forever...but everything ends.