Superman Is Fucking Lois Lane

He had been on patrol over Metropolis when the scent had come to him. Few of his friends or foes recalled that the Last Son of Krypton's sense of smell was super-acute...that he could track his enemies like a bloodhound, and analyze gasses with the merest sniff. It was a power that Superman sometimes wished he didn't have—since he could smell every fart, toilet, and trashcan in Metropolis. The only blessing was that all smell was particulate, and flying up above the city he was usually in clean air...

...but there was one scent he was always attuned to. It had been that way since they had first met. That natural perfume that Lois Lane carried about her had been intoxicating. Superman had always been able to pick it out among all the other smells, and sometimes took comfort from it when he was working late at the Daily Planet, and he could still smell her scent imprinted on her chair and in the fabric that covered her cubicle. It was almost as if she was still there with him.

Then, as he flew over that warehouse that had been converted into a club, a stray gust of air had wafted the reporter's scent up to him—a scent augmented into pheromones, chemical signals of attraction, sexual excitement—and that bare whiff had struck the Man of Steel like a thunderbolt. He had been barely conscious as he stumbled into the building, his cape on his heels. The intoxicating smell was stronger here. Then he had seen her...and nearly all self-control melted away.

Superman had never been drunk before, yet his head swam as he opened his mouth and gulped in that enchanting scent. His tongue had lapped at her cunny, and the Kryptonian fabric that made up his red shorts could barely contain his superhuman erection. Nothing in all of his experience had ever affected him like this. It was as though Lois Lane's cunny was his Kryptonite...his wet, pink Kryptonite...

...and when he finally slid into her, Superman's self-control was barely holding on by a thread. Ancient Kryptonian instincts told him that this was his mate, that she was hot and tight and ready for him, and he thrust with more **** than he intended, slamming his hips into the wall, causing the whole building to shake and the wall to crack.

Superman was just getting started.

"The fuck is going on!?" Aimee paused in her masturbation as the walls continued to shake, and Lois Lane, stuck inside the wall, eyes bugging out of her head, held on for dear life as with every cunt-busting thrust she felt the building shake and the wall crack, bricks bursting around her.