Yes

Lois heard her own voice, and it was something with wonder that she recognized the voice of her younger self...

The door to the room opened, and Lois looked as two people marched in...a man and a woman. They were both naked, and muscular, but they had adult bodies, the man with the broad shoulders of a linebacker, but sculpted like a bodybuilder. The woman was shorter and slighter, although Lois felt a touch of jealousy at her toned abs, the hint of muscle on her arms and legs.

Both wore masks. Sleek black coverings that like cloth that entirely encased their heads, leaving not even hair visible. Lois imagined that they must be able to see through them, as neither of them seemed to have any difficulty in navigating, making a B-line right toward her.

Lois' heart beat in her chest, feeling small and awkward as she had been as a teenager...and so too, that burning intensity which had accompanied her first sexual encounters. Back then, she had basically thrown her virginity away, but now... the two came within a few feet of her, and stopped. Her eyes went, unconsciously to their crotches...and there was his cock, limp but good-sized by the look of it, and her cunny, buried beneath a soft down of yellow hair...and they reached out, offering their hands, palms up.

The reporter hesitated, remembering her first time. The awkward fumbling with the blushing, huffing football player. No foreplay, no care as he had lined his skinny dick up with her pussy and pushed it into her. She had cried, when it went in...and cried too when he wouldn't stop, buttocks bouncing up and down as he plunged into her, and she had looked up into his face and seen—nothing. A pure, animal rut, lost in his own world. She could have been a piece of meat, for all he cared, as long as it was tight and warm and wet. Then he had spent inside her, after a couple dozen thrusts...and she hadn't even felt that, except as a warm ooze that dribbled out of her poor abused pussy with the blood. Lois hadn't even cum.

He'd wanted to do it again, after that, but she never called him, tried never to see him. Too embarrassed, it had been a while before she had dated anyone, or got the confidence to try sex again—to get comfortable with it, to have an orgasm with someone else. Lois was past that initial hangup, had grown as a woman and a lover since then, but she had always regretted how perfunctory that first time had been.

Now...she took their hands in her own...now she had a chance to do it again, on her own terms. To make a good memory. They guided her hands to their respective genitals, and Lois' left hand cupped that warm little pussy as her right hand lay on the thick soft cock, as if asking her...to choose.