Tyrell Follows Lois Into The Bathroom

It must have been the drinks. Lois Lane knew her tolerance for ****, yet she was still taken aback at how tipsy she felt already. Her steps were a little unsteady as she stepped into the bathroom, her body unnaturally warm. She twisted the spigot and let water spew into the sink, trying to think of the best way to freshen up without doing too much damage to her makeup...

Which is why she didn't hear Tyrell step in behind her. She only felt his big, strong hands close about her wrists as she grasped the sink. His pants were off, and he pressed his hips forward, his cock pressed between the cheeks of her ass, only the shiny red material of her pants between them. Lois Lane found herself pinned against the sink, staring into the mirror, where Tyrell stared back at her.

"You're wrong, you know," the Black man said, and there was no **** cheer in his voice now. "You'd make a great whore. Look how hard you've made me already."

Panic fluttered through the reporter's body. She didn't try to twist away, not immediately. She could feel the tip of his cock against the bare skin of her lower back where it peeked under her t-shirt. A wet, warm, drop of precum oozed out, dripping down the crack of her ass.

"Hey, look," she said, hoping feigned acquiescence would mollify him. "I really have to pee. Let's not do this here, right? Just give me a minute and then we can drink and have some fun. It'll feel a lot better on the couch."

"It's not working," Tyrell said, and for a moment the reporter's blood went cold...and then she stared at his face reflected in the mirror above the sink. His features distorted in a gruesome grimace, veins starting to stand out. His brown eyes began to roll upwards in their sockets. "No! I can do it. The ****...she's hot and ready for it...just let me...no, you had your chance..."

The voice and inflection shifted back and forth, as though Tyrell was having an argument with himself...and then the eyes rolled up so far that all Lois could see was the whites. The contortions of the face ceased, and a ghastly half-smile graced his thick lips, utterly unlike any expression Lois had seen him use before.

The voice that came out of his mouth was strange...higher pitched, almost feminine.

"You need to piss, Lois Lane?" The reporter shook at the sound of her own name, a name she hadn't given Tyrell. "What a coincidence! So do I. Let's do that...together."