The Dressing Room

From the darkness, Lois Lane emerged into the light.

It was full of tits.

The reporter blinked, taken unawares as she followed Valeria into the dressing room. A half-dozen women in various stages of dress and undress were scattered about. Lois saw a slim young Asian woman dusting mascara on her nipples in front of a mirror; a big-hipped Black woman emerged wet from the shower, the brown flesh slick and shiny, buttocks jiggling with every step; One skinny blonde was tying a bustier, slightly older woman into a corset, her boobs spilling out of the black latex cups, pierced nipples on display.

"Hold my cerveza, por favor," Valeria said. Lois reached out and grabbed the glass bottle. Without further ceremony, the busty Latina stripped out of her white blouse.

Lois felt her cheeks burned as she studied the muscles in Valeria's back, caught flashes of her breasts from behind as the woman lifted her arms to put up her hair for a moment. Then the titanic teats twirled around into full view, the half-naked woman grabbing the beer and bringing it to her lips. Valeria tilted her head back and drained what was left in a series of long gulps as the Daily Planet's greatest reporter was stuck staring at her wet, booze-soaked boobs.

"Aaaah!" Valeria said with a gasp of satisfaction as she lowered the empty bottle and smiled at Lois, the left-hand side of her mouth twisting upward into a crooked grin.

"Come on!" the shirtless woman said, grabbing the reporter's wrist and dragging her in the direction the Black woman had come from. "You can help me wash my tatas."