The Heart & Soul of a Gentle Fuck

When she was very young, Lois Lane's mother had rocked her to sleep. The tired woman would sit up during a thunderstorm in a big wooden rocking chair, the tired toddler in her lap, and with slow and gentle movements, they would go back and forth, up and down, with only the barest of movements. It was a sensation that Lois Lane had never forgotten, though she had rarely found anything like it once she grew up. A few nights on a stormy sea, the ship plowing through the waves, and Lois swinging in her hammock had known something like it...but without that warm, human touch. She had wished back then, for someone to hold and cradle her.

Now, that was how she was getting fucked.

Great warm, smooth arms cradled her. With gentle, irresistible strength, Lois was rolled over until she was laying on that warm body. The exhausted reporter gave only the tiniest of gasps as the cock slid into her pussy—softer than she thought it would be, like a great loofah that snuggly filled every nook and cranny of her cunny as she straddled fat-soft hips. Sleep-swollen eyes buried themselves beneath breasts that felt huge and fluffy as goose down pillows, and the hands snuggled Lois close as the body began to rock from side to side, the soft prick sliding gently in and out of the reporter's cunt.

A warm hand smoothed the reporter's dark hair. Aching muscles unseized, the reporter's body growing limp as the rocking-fuck slowly soothed her into a place not far away from sleep. Doubts and agitations flitted up into the forefront of the reporter's brain, as always happened when Lois Lane was about to sleep, but then that woman's voice came to her, humming gently some wordless yet familiar tune...and it was a sweet voice, not trained but soft and breathy, and Lois felt her eyes fluttering, breath coming slow and deep...

...and within a few minutes, she found she didn't care about the wet squelch between her thighs, the strange sensation almost like she had to pee. The reporter was floating atop that warm body, head buried between those massive breasts, each of which had to be the size of her own head, and the hands were patting her back...no farther down now, one great warm hand on her ass. Something soft and slick slid between her ass-cheeks, and Lois moaned at this intrusion, when sleep was so close at hand.

Yet it pushed in further, and Lois Lane was so tired, and the finger so slick, that her asshole provided almost no resistance at all. The reporter cinched her eyes tighter as the soft, gentle fuck continued, now with both of her holes. Hope that whatever strange giant cradling her would just cum...

"Please..." Lois mumbled into the tit she was using as a pillow. "Just cum and let me sleep."