They Find A Clue

Careful with her footing to avoid falling into the pool, Lois Lane examined the inscriptions. Most were in English, or something closely approximating it, and scratched into the rock with pocket knives or the like. There were dates, initials, sometimes a full name. Declarations of love. Lois Lane didn't recognize any of them, and some were clearly decades, maybe centuries old.

The reporter gnawed on her cheeks as she worked her way around the pool. Blaze stood nearby, quiet, and kept her own counsel. Doubt ate at the reporter. She had no idea if the women had even carved anything here. Yet if they did...

Lois looked for what appeared to be the freshest, sharpest inscriptions...and she found it.

SUCK MY DICK 555-867-5309

"That's Jenny Dunlap's phone number," Lois muttered. Her hand found her smartphone. She dialed the number. It rang...and rang...and finally picked up. There was soft breathing on the other end of the line.

"Hey," Lois Lane said. "I want to suck your dick."

Silence on the other end of the line. Then, an address. Lois hung on every syllable, swiftly memorizing the instructions.

"Okay," the reporter said. "See you soon..."

There was a click even as Lois Lane got the words out.

"We have a clue!" Lois Lane said, as she explained things to Angelica Blaze. The dickgirl's expression was a perfect poker face, but Lois could see by the set of her jaw that her lover of the evening wasn't happy.

"Are you actually going to suck her dick?" Angelica asked.

"I've never yet traded fellatio for a story," Lois Lane said. "And I don't plan to start now. Why? Jealous?"

"Yes," Blaze admitted flatly, and that sent a weird tremor through Lois Lane's heart. "But I do want you to get your story."

"Well...we'll see," Lois said, as she reached out and took Angie's hand.

Hand in hand, woman and dickgirl left the glowing pink goo of the lesbian pit behind.