milkcree:

hanzo riding on top & dripping milk with each bounce of his hips is… my fetish

Hanzo’s eyes were narrowed in cat like pleasure. He looked almost angry staring down at McCree, lips set in a tight line and the crow’s feet in the corners of his eyes deep as if in concentration.

At first, he’d been embarrassed about the whole thing – McCree would bet his hat on it – but it seemed like the allure of a thick cock spreading him open and rubbing against all those needy, itchy spaces was enough to make him pretend like everything was okay. Like he didn’t mind one bit that with each twist and dirty grind of his hips, his pecs jiggled and a new little dribble of milk was trickling down, getting his belly wet in two thin lines.

“Don’t look at it,” Hanzo hissed, fingers on McCree’s chest digging in harder, pulling on the short hair liberally coating his front.

“Not lookin’,” he mumbled, eyes tracking as Hanzo bounced viciously, dragging his silky, clutching insides along McCree’s cock and making his pecs bounce so violently, milk droplets sprayed across McCree’s belly, soaking into the dark hair.

He felt wet and tacky and he loved it. 

Hanzo made a sound that would have been an impressive growl, hadn’t he managed to rub the fat head of McCree’s cock squarely against his prostate, making him choke on his own spit rather undignified, eyes falling closed and head tilting back into his neck.

“Oh yeah,” McCree whispered roughly, putting one arm behind his head and wishing he could reach the cigar glimmering in the ash tray a little ways away. “Not lookin’ at all.”