Tickling Lois Lane's Pussy

Something brushed against Lois Lane's slit. It was so thin, so fine...not a feather, but some kind of brush or duster with incredibly silky strands around a harder core. The reporter's heart began to race as the fine strands ran up, from just above her asshole to flutter around her clit.

Lois Lane wasn't laughing. Her breathing became heavy, mood shifting as she imagined the unseen thing that was tickling her pussy. She knew that Blaze was right there, almost between her legs, that hard cock that must be just aching...and Lois was wet, ready and willing for her now, but that damn brush kept sliding over her slight, teasing her more and more...

Agonizing minutes passed under the relentlessly gentle ****.

The reporter squirmed, muscles tensing. She flexed her pussy muscles, trying helplessly to meet the sudden aching need between her legs, her knees tried to close but Angelica Blaze was there, blocking her, and the blindfolded, bound reporter heard an animal-like mewl of frustration slip past her own lips.

"You like that, my pet?" Blaze said, the furry instrument of **** focusing on the reporter's throbbing erect clit.

"Please...mistress..." Lois said. "I need it..."

"Greedy little thing. You want more stimulation than this?"

"Yes!" Lois said, willing to say anything to get this over with, to move on to actual fucking, and she was not too proud admit it.

"Very well," Angelica said, as the furry clit-tickler disappeared. "I'll give you something harder..."