Killer Croc

The leathery sack pulled away from her face. The bat pulled out of her pussy with a wet pop. Hands grabbed at the reporter's legs, prying them wide apart...and other hands grabbed the reporter's arms, pinning them above her head.

Croc moved, silent despite his lumbering bulk, muscles that would put a linebacker to shame rolling under his oversized shirt. His bald head seemed undersized compared to the rest of his body, but that was simply because he was so broad of shoulder, with massive biceps nearly as big as the reporter's head...and unlike most big men, his cock was of a size with the rest of him.

Lois stared at the green beast, now hard and swollen. The top was scaly, ridged, the underside paler. It was like a crocodile in miniature, and while nowhere near as long as Harley's bat, it was at least ten inches long and nearly 3 inches in diameter.

"I hope you don't mind," Rick Flagg said. "But this is near as we get to real entertainment on these trips."

"Fifty says she splits open," Captain Boomerang said, and there was a chorus of people echoing "Bet!"

Lois Lane hoped their confidence in her cunt wasn't misplaced.

Killer Croc eased into a squat, teasing her slit with the hard tip of his prick. It wasn't the spongy, rubbery kind of glans Lois was familiar with at all; the rigid scutes were solid...and as he pressed inside, Lois sucked in her breath, and wished that Harley had fucked her pussy a little longer to loosen her up better for the experience.

All eyes were fixed on the reporter's pussy as inch by inch, the villain fed his dick into her pussy...and Lois let out a little groan as her poor pussy seemed to sink in on itself, the oversized prick forcing its way in, the reporter's arms and legs tensing even as Lois did her best to relax her crotch muscles, to make the penetration as painless as possible...

...and then she felt those leathery balls press against her buttocks, and Harley giggled.

"Shit, Croc. She can take your whole thing! You oughta spunk up her cunt. Have her barefoot and pregnant in your kitchen!" The clown said.

The beady eyes of the criminal focused on Lois. She couldn't tell if he was smiling, but his teeth were bared, a bit of spittle drooling out between the sharp, triangular teeth.

"Might. Anybody else want to see me pump this bitch full?" He rumbled. "Been a bit pent up."

There was a bit of chatter back and forth—rough talk about who got her ass, who got to go second—but what Lois zoomed in on was a very quiet conversation happening between the Suicide Squad's handler Amanda Waller and Angelica Blaze.

"We'll take her," Waller said.