What Pill? You Mean My Vitamins?

Lois Lane stared at the redhead, utterly dumbfounded.

Not possible. She told herself. There's no way an intelligent, grown woman could have survived this long in the world without knowing about birth contr—

Then the reporter remembered that Lana Lang was from Kansas.

Fucking red state bullshit! Sudden panic percolated through the reporter as the pussy squeezed onto her cock. Probably raised on a diet of "Go forth and be fruitful" and abstinence-only education, dreaming of the day she'll get pregnant and wanting a huge family, probably demand I marry her and why the fuck is that making my cock harder...

Lana Lang stared at Lois, big blue eyes wide and innocent.

"Well, uh...you see, when women don't want to...ovulate..."

The redhead snrked. Her face contorted in an effort to contain a chortle.

"It's not funny, dammit!" Lois hissed. "You could get...you could be..."

"I've been on the pill since I was sixteen, babe," Lana said, reaching up and threading her hands behind the reporter's neck. "But you should have seen the look on your face. Did you really get that scared thinking you'd knock me up?"

Lois felt a hot flush spread across her cheeks. Morbid embarrassment warred with lust inside of her. It was like Lana had read her mind. Not that Lois could ever admit that.

"No. Shut up."

"Oh ho!" Lana needled. "Maybe you weren't scared at all. Did the idea turn you on? Hmm? Lois Lane playing the big strong stud, planting a baby in my belly?"

The bright blue cunt squeezed tight. Lois gasped.

"You're still so hard inside of me," the redhead whispered. "Not soft at all. I bet you can go again. Send another couple million semen into my fertile cunt. You know no form of birth control is 100%...you want to see if you can beat the odds?"