They Go To Bed

By the time Lois Lane was half-guided, half-carried to bed, the fever and chills had set in. Her whole body ached. Even breathing hurt, and her vision did strange things. The naked reporter offered no resistance as Maria guided her under the covers. No resistance as the naked woman slipped in behind her.

Warm breasts pressed against the reporter's back. Lois Lane's teeth chattered, despite the heat from those warm arms that hugged her close. In the darkness of the honeymoon suite, the only light leaked in from the bottom of the door, which lent a pink tinge to the darkness. In Maria's arms, Lois Lane shivered.

The heat in the reporter's vein didn't permit her to sleep. Closing her eyes made no difference in the dark. Lois couldn't remember the last time she had been like this, with another naked person, under the covers together in bed. She could feel Maria's breath on her bare neck. Soft, hot air. The heat under the covers began to push away the chill...just a little.

Then Maria's hands moved.

Blindly they groped. Just a little at first. One hand rested on Lois Lane's left thigh, the other arm had slipped under Lois Lane's armpit. The hand rose up in an arc, fingers brushed the reporter's belly. Found her left breast. Walked their way up to the nipple. For a minute they just lay there, not speaking, in the dark, as Maria's finger circled Lois Lane's nipple. Lois was too weak to resist. To even say anything. Her nipple stiffened.

Emboldened, Maria's other hand slid down between the reporter's thighs. Lois shook as the fingers combed through her pubic hair. Found the wet slit between her legs. A boy would have immediately tried to push their fingers in, but Maria just rubbed the lips a little. Searched for Lois Lane's clit. There was a hot gasp from Lois Lane's lips when she found it. Then Maria's head shifted, and a hot kiss was planted on the side of the reporter's neck.

It was terrifying in some ways. Lois felt as weak as a newborn kitten. Utterly unable to resist as Maria played with her body. The fever-stricken reporter hated how quickly she responded. How the sweat rose. The wetness between her thighs that coated Maria's fingers. The way her ass bumped up against Maria's crotch. The quick, hot gasps of her breath that came steadily, and then faster and faster...

When her soft cry came into the darkness, it was a more terrible surrender than anything Lois Lane had ever known. At least when she had blown Tyrell, that had been in the need of the moment, necessary to escape. This was something else. An utter betrayal of herself by her own weakened body. Lois gulped in air as the spasms of her climax wracked her weakened form.

Except Maria wasn't done. The fingers still worked, more urgently now. The groping fingers pinched and pulled at the reporter's breath. Teeth bit lightly into the reporter's neck and sucked hard, to leave hickies that would be hard to explain tomorrow. Lois Lane had just cum, but Maria wanted more...a lot more...

To bring Lois Lane to climax after climax. All as the virus Lex Luthor had designed worked its way on her body. Sexual excitement sped it along...and as Maria shifted position, under the covers, her tongue trailing a line down to the reporter's hot, super-sensitive slit, Lois Lane found the fever-dreams overtake her, and the darkness took on monstrous shapes...and all throughout her body, there was a strange and terrible dance as little bits of DNA were taken out and replaced with other bits of DNA...