Brigitte, not quite used to fucking; or, more accurately: to leisurely fucking; to taking her time and enjoying the moment instead of having rushed, trembling little orgasms in the dark, trying to keep nice and quiet; loves her trysts with Zenyatta.

He exudes calm. Self-confidence. Even with his synthetic cock within the suckling heat of her mouth, he has the awareness to give back the pleasure and let his orbs roll warm and trembling along the dip of her spine, then the cleft of her ass until she spreads her thighs and lifts up into the gentle pressure.

However, before it touches her cunt, so sensitive, so primed for it, it will retreat once more, tugged on invisible strings and following the way back up it has taken.

She glances up at him, his impassive, gentle face, and her belly feels molten; a slow, delicious roll deep down inside her that makes her squirm on the spot.

Zenyatta’s hands are in her hair, and while she usually does not like wearing it open, there is something disarming in how sure he moves when he tugs the little band holding it together open to play with it.

His fingers are pleasingly formed, the joints made so nothing catches in between, and when he carefully tugs at her hair close to her scalp, she is startled by the low, guttural groan vibrating out of her chest; how tight and sensitive her nipples become in an instant as she spears herself deeper on his cock, drool slicking down his polished, warm crome pelvis towards the silky little cunt sitting just beneath.

He doesn’t say anything, just hums, and Brigitte can feel her face flush in embarrassment, feeling the quiet amusement radiating off of him.

She retaliates, fingers moving quick and a bit clumsy as she pushes her thumb into him, but Zenyatta does not need much as is; he is always sensitive to the touch; always so very ready to hiccup out a chirp like he is surprised and hasn’t seen it coming that her temper would inevitably flare.

His orbs move, rolling along her spine, and Brigitte purrs; gurgles around the silicone cock whose tip is so very pleasing; so sleek and squishy and easy to fuck her throat on.

She lifts her ass again, and this time the orbs follow suit: they slide smoothly where she wants to have them; one vibrating against her puffy cunt, the other against her ass, startling her into pulling back, spit still connecting her bottom lip with the gently bouncing teal cock in front of her.

Zenyatta cups her face, hands warm, a few strands of her long, dark hair still draped across his fingers.

“Breathe,” he hums, and she stares at his gently pulsating array, not sure what is going to happen, but following suit anyway, body tight and nervous, vibrating in front of him as he makes a soft sound, low and melodic – and the pressure against her tender opening increases.

“Oh… Oh…” she whispers, eyes going wide, staring at his array as she feels herself getting stretched, stretched, stretched, and she is not aware of the pitiful whine coming from her until he shushes her, his fingertips touching her swollen, wet lips.

“Everything is well. Breathe. Stay calm-” 

He guides her down towards his cock, pulsating just as slow and pleasing as the dots on his faceplate. He helps her move, but she can hardly focus on it; lets him merely use her mouth as a warm, slippery hole to fuck as he pushes his orb into her aching cunt, stretching her to the max and beyond, her eyes still wide as she gently gurgles on the cock dicking her throat.

There is a moment, a pang of deep, delicious fear that her body won’t be able to take it; that there is no way she can take the big orb – and then the moment passes and the object has pushed past the widest point, and Brigitte grunts like an animal, body sagging minutely. She can feel every muscle relaxing almost violently and for a second she thinks, delirious, that she must have pissed herself, but then she is focusing back on the orb slipping deeper into her; moving farther with gentle, vibrating shoves – like a little living being snuggling into her body.

She can feel it vibrate inside her; can feel it heavy and real, pushing down at her belly, and when one trembling hand reaches down to feel, there is a distinct swell there that hasn’t been before. She can feel Zenyatta’s orb vibrate in the trembling cup of her hand, and still he looks down on her with that calm, serene faceplate. He has her thick hair curled around his hands, keeping it out of the way and holding her nice and still for his hips that keep fucking her slack mouth with mechanic precision.

“You are doing so well… I so enjoy our little play sessions, Brigitte.”

She is whining in a crescendo, her whole body trying to seize up and come; she can feel the orgasm coming like nothing else, something big and almost frightening that has tears shooting into her eyes even as she wants to chant ‘yes yes yes please’ – but suddenly the vibrations pull back, the orb lying almost motionless, and Zenyatta strokes her sweat soaked hair and purrs: “Not yet. You need to ask when to come, if that is quite alright. We can play a lot longer if you can hold out for me. Do you want to?”

She sobs, pulling back, chest heaving; she’s never had to hold back on an orgasm, and the feeling is as horrible as it is making her feel like she is having a religious awakening. She nods, trembling, her body crawling back from the very edge reluctantly, her cunt pulsing swollen and hurt from the extreme stretch as the second orb continues to almost innocently vibrate away against her asshole.

“Very well,” Zenyatta murmurs, leaning down, his warm faceplate touching her sweaty forehead – and then the low, thrumming vibrations start up once more.