Lois Lane Is Being Gangbanged By Homeless People

In her mind, Lois Lane was being accosted by magical beings out of faerie tales and legends, great fungal beasts that walked like men. The darkness of the underground parking garage she had wandered into was alive with colors she could not name, and she laughed and murmured and felt that some great, terrible truth would soon break upon her consciousness...perhaps she imagined that this was some ritual greeting, some erotic play, some fantastic billowing of spores...

...the truth was disturbingly more mundane.

"Bitch is tripping balls!"

The reporter had stumbled over the cardboard boxes that served several of the homeless men for sleeping quarters. She lay across one now, her pale thighs parted...and it hadn't taken very long for the first unwashed, warty prick to be pulled from its frayed and torn pair of jeans and jammed into the glistening pink slit.

The other men crowded around. Their cocks were in their hands, and they stroked themselves hard as they waited their turn.

"She's pretty," Giovanni said, the skinny young man with the shaved head said. "Jeez, listen to her moan."

"Yeah, she horny as fuck," Big Mack said. The Black man scratched at his beard, and crushed a louse between two thick fingers. "Must not have gotten any for a long time. By the time we're done with her, she gonna be full up."

"Cunt," Old Pete sniffed. The grey-bearded man shivered. His cock was long and skinny, the hairy balls drooping over the edge of his sweat pants as years and gravity had taken their toll. "I haven't had a whiff of that since the missus died!"

"Urh...urgh...huh!" Frankie T. grunted. The first of the homeless men rolled off of Lois. A dollop of white cream oozed out of her cunt. Giovanni moved forward, but Big Mack planted a thick hand firmly against the younger man's chest.

"Go on, old timer," the Black man rumbled. "You next."

Old Pete didn't need any more suggestion. The old man hurried forward, his pants pulled down so that his half-deflated pale ass hung out, and he eased his pale, veiny prick into the slit.

"You go after him," Big Mack told Giovanni. "He won't be long. Then she'll be wet enough to take me."

The Black man emphasized his point as he grasped his shaft. Thumb and forefinger could barely meet firmly around its girth.

In the darkness, as the homeless men took their turns, something watched...and waited.