Until Maria Passes Out

Lois Lane had shifted position, turning Maria on her side and lifting on leg in the air so that the reporter could sit astride her leg and gain unfettered access to the woman's much-abused cunt. Maria hadn't even bothered to protest; she was glad enough that during the change she had managed to snag a bottled water, and thirstily gulped it down as Lois plunged back into her work.

It was exhausting, getting fucked. They had long ago passed the point of pleasantness; Maria's labia felt rubbed raw, her hips ached as though she had done a hundred squats, and it felt like she had rugburn on half her body. Girls waxed romantic about being loved all night long, but as the minutes ticked by Maria just wanted it to end.

Maria would never have thought she could fall asleep during sex. But as the hump-fest entered its second hour, the rhythmic thumping of cock in cunt and Lois' chanting were wearing on her. She felt her lids grow heavy. Let her head sink down on a towel.

It's like a train, Maria thought, taking long, slow blinks. The gentle rocking motion, back and forth, back and forth...only...inside...

The barmaid's eyes closed for a blink...and did not reopen.

If Lois Lane noticed, she didn't stop. Her cock slid in and out of Maria's pussy like a well-oiled pistol, all resistance gone, the once-tight hole a sloppy mess overflowing with white foam, Maria's thighs and crotch covered with dried rivulets of sperm.

Lois held the limp leg up and pushed her seed in deep, where it would do the most good. The sleeping woman's body shifted like a bag of wet flour, sometimes spasming with gentle, **** orgasm. To sleep, perchance to dream...