Tell Blaze To Fuck Her Harder

"No, you aren't allowed to cum in me," Lois said, fixing her gaze on those dark eyes. "You can come on my stomach, my breasts, my face—I'll even swallow your seed. But you need to hold it in until I cum. Now fuck me harder."

There was a time when Lois Lane was a younger woman, inexperienced, and she let others lead her in bed. What she had discovered, as a woman on her own in Metropolis, is that if she wanted satisfaction, she had to go out and get it.

Her fingers drummed on those tight testicles. Lois had meant it when she told Angelica Blaze not to cum inside of her, but the reporter knew herself well enough to know that she liked the danger. After all, she was a modern woman: even if she wasn't on birth control this moment, there were always options if she should have a little accident.

Blaze began to put her back into it, thrusting faster, harder. Trying to squeeze all of that dick into the reporter's hot tunnel, almost panting with puppy-dog eagerness. Lois drank in the affection. There was **** need in those eyes, a wonderful sensitivity as she stroked the soft skin at the base of those balls, where a big vein throbbed in time with the quickening pulse of the dickgirl's heart.

"You like my breasts?" Lois said, squeezing the base of Angelica's prick gently. The dickgirl gave a kind of strangled cry. "Prove it."

Hands grasped the reporter's small breasts. Squeezed and groped, pushing all the blood toward the nipples—then that hot mouth dipped down and nearly enveloped the reporter's right breast, the tongue swirling around the nipple, sucking hard.

Lois threw her head back and hissed. She squeezed the testicles harder...and felt something warm and wet trickle down the crack of her ass.