Tag: masturbation

6th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 2nd Fill

Soldier76/Zenyatta/Lúcio – voyeurism; blackmail; frottage; fantasizing – Soldier has to go to yoga and hates it… until he doesn’t.

be aware that Soldier is a gross old man in this and a macho to boot 🙂

Jack could feel the tension melting away. He’s hated that his doctor thought yoga would be the best option for him (he’s a goddamn man!) but right now he’s never been as relaxed as standing just behind the locker room doors after the last class and peeking through the small gap at the two instructors in the adjacent changing room.

The same two instructors he’s had a hard-on for since starting this fucking torture.

God, but they are tasty; one tall and sleek, the other shorter and stocky; both gorgeous and cute and doing their thing in tight, revealing clothes. Tight enough that Jack knows the shape of their soft, cute cocks.

Tight enough that Jack has found himself fantasizing of pulling one of them closer by their hips and sucking a wet spot through the thin fabric until he can slurp their pre-cum through the elastic.

They’re flexible; nice little boys for him to bend however he wants them to be and show them how a real man’s cock feels.

His hand is around his dick, squeezing, thumb playing with his foreskin as he watches the two of them kiss. Little soft smacking sounds accentuated by their throaty thighs as they grope at each other; Zenyatta slow, almost dreamy, and Lúcio more needy. Grabbing for the other’s small ass and pulling him close until Zenyatta has to go up onto the balls of his feet and break the suckling little kiss to let his head fall back and sigh towards the ceiling.

Jack nearly strangles his goddamn cock when Lúcio starts tugging at their clothes and just about manages to hook his thumb into his waistband and pull it down until it sits just beneath his balls. He does the same to Zenyatta, and Jack doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to think of anything but herding them against a wall and keeping them pinned while he sucks them down until they bump into the back of his throat.

It would be easy now, too, wouldn’t it? He’s got them in his hand, after all. Can keep them nice and in line with the knowledge of their secret little tryst. Have them perform for him privately; let them contort and show off their young, supple bodies.

Have them service him with their plump little mouths… He’s sure they’d love getting a big fat cock like his for once. A real man to service; instead of their flowery, sweet little make-out sessions…

They do look lovely together, though. Moving and humping and grabbing at each other; needy but obviously well used to the other’s body.

As he watches, Zenyatta rucks Lúcio’s shirt up until it is tucked beneath his armpits and stretched across his wide chest. Damn, but the guy is stocky. Looks like he could take a good, deep dicking without complaining too much.

Jack squeezes at the tip of his cock and hisses at the sharp pain when he is too harsh. He gentles himself down; forces himself to take deep, steadying breaths as he peers into the changing room again; watches Zenyatta sit down on one of the benches since he is so much taller than his friend, and hum soft and happy when he’s level with Lúcio’s chest.

Jack swallows hard; wonders how it would feel having them nurse on his chest like Zenyatta is doing for Lúcio now; looking so content gently biting at the tight brown nipples, one hand lovingly cupping the cock that’s been bouncing unattended in the air.

Maybe he’ll let them perform for him like that. Sit down and record them as Lúcio fucks Zenyatta, or Zenyatta rabbit humps between Lúcio’s thighs. Maybe he’ll let them wear their tight clothes and get needy and desperate when they can’t get at each other like they want to.

God, there are so many possibilities…

3rd Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 8th Fill

Hanzo +Genji+Sojiro – Hanzo gets hot over silverfox Genji and remembers his time with his father.

In the beginning, Hanzo had doubted the cyborg claiming to be his brother even was Genji. True, his first gut instinct had recognized the eyes the man – the creature – had revealed to him, but after the situation had calmed down and the adrenaline abated, he had not been so sure anymore.

Soon after officially joining, however, his fears had abated. There simply was no way around the truth that, yes, the cyborg who claimed to be his brother indeed was Genji.

The realization had hit him hard that first time he’d seen him without the mask in proper lighting, his belly aching fierce and immediate at the cut of his face; the way he twists his mouth.

That beard. Nothing like their oto-san’s, of course – their father’s facial hair had been always immaculately groomed and perfect, not like Genji’s wild, patchy scruff – but undeniably shaping his face to what he blatantly was: his father’s son.

It hits him again and again just how old they have gotten. That the carefree boy he’s almost killed has become a man that has aged far beyond his years. His voice, gentle and soft when filtered through the mechanics of his mask, is rougher, deeper when without it – and Hanzo tries not to wonder whether that, too, is a courtesy of his failed fratricide.

It troubles Hanzo at night, when he is curled on his bed, one hand feverishly, secretly working his cock as he presses the other to his mouth to muffle his soft, needy cries.

In his head, the both of them get muddled. He remembers the nervous little trysts he’s had with his father; stolen away in the oyabun’s chambers, feeling him move inside him deep and steady and teaching him all about how good it feels to let go and be used… but in his feverish mind, hand wrapped around his cock, thumb and forefinger pinching a bit mean at the crown, he finds himself slipping; the tickle of his father’s clothes becomes the slick, cool sensation of Genji’s cybernetics.

The silky glide of Sojiro’s beard along his taint becomes the scratchy burn of Genji’s greying scruff.

It shames him to no end; how he thinks of his brother when he plays with his foreskin, tugging on the silky folds and slipping a fingertip beneath it. Remembering how his father had taught him how to hold on to his orgasm as he sucked his cock, the tongue of the oyabun doing what Hanzo’s fingers try to emulate; yet when he stares down his trembling body in his fantasies, it is Genji’s knowing, calm eyes that look back up at him.

No matter who he is thinking of, though, Hanzo always whines for one: Oto-san. Whispered into the palm of his hand, big thighs shaking with want as his body burns and his balls work, so close to coming.

It bleeds into his everyday life, too. He finds himself looking at Genji and having to be careful of the first word that wants to come out; the daddy that’s on the tip of his tongue.

It is shameful. Disgraceful.

Dishonorable.

But the truth is he misses his oto-san. He’s missed him since the day he died, whining for him as he fucks himself on his own fingers, never as hard or as deep as his daddy could do; and Genji just brings it all back up again, even if he might not realize it or even would want to. His mannerisms, the way his face moves, the cadence of his voice – it is all their father.

And Hanzo aches.