Join The Cult of Blaze

It was a flyer, glued high enough on the stall to keep it clear of the usual scrawl of graffiti and mutilation. As Jimmy Olsen sucked cock, the slightly drunk reporter read the flyer.

TIRED OF SUCKING COCK?
OF COURSE NOT!

Intrigued, she read on.

WHY SETTLE FOR THESE LIMP DICKS?
JOIN THE CULT OF BLAZE!
SEE HUGE, STRANGE COCKS AND SUCK THEM!!
GURGLE CUM LIKE YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE!!!
DROWN IN SEED!!!!
ONLY TRUE JIZZHOUNDS WANTED!!!!!

Five exclamation marks is a true sign of a demented mind, Lois thought to herself.

There was more...crude sigils painted in black ink that made the reporter's head hurt to look at them. She couldn't seem to read the whole thing at once, but by focusing on bits and pieces, she managed to pick out more of the message on the strange flyer...and she saw at the bottom a set of instructions.

DOWN THE STAIR
BEHIND THE BLACK DOOR
PAY THE TOLL
BITCHES WANTED

Wet sucking sounds broke Lois out of the steady concentration she needed to read the flyer. She turned to see Jimmy Olsen leaving streaks of lipstick on the pink shaft of his customer, head bobbing steadily, tongue sliding along the sensitive underbelly of the hard cock. He was cross-eyed, and his little boner was sticking up at his crotch, obviously turned on at what he was doing. Absently, the reporter wondered if sometimes Jimmy did more than just suck...when he didn't have an audience.