demon hanzo fingering mccree and or worshiping his hole

“Stay,” the demon murmurs, voice a low, barely there growl. McCree is no small man by any means but this creature dwarfs him easily, and he has no desire to find out whether those fingernails are just as sharp as they look.

“You… you got it,” he croaks. The demon stays a bit longer just for good measure – he seems to relish the mix of terror and shameful arousal wafting off of McCree – before he breathes out in one long exhale, and makes his way down.

Moments later, his huge hands are spreading Jesse’s cheeks, and he can feel the warm gust of his breath tickling the generous curl of hair around his hole.

His belly clenches and toes curl.

“I.. ah…”

“You look like a beast here,” the demon muses. When Jesse glances back over his shoulder, the demon is hunkered down, milky, colorless eyes staring intently at his hairy, flexing hole.

He groans, slapping one palm across his face.

“What the hell…”

“You humans are so… unsophisticated,” the demon continues. He sounds strangely excited. Seconds later, his sinuous snake-like tongue is dragging through Jesse’s crack and probing at his hole. He cries out, fingers digging into the loose soil underneath, but the demon’s sharp claws dig into the meaty cheeks of his ass and quickly hinder him from crawling away.

“Stay, beast. I want to… explore.”

Jesse groans into his arms, thighs shimmying apart as the demon forces him to take the tongue that slips in and in and in; a muscular, wet intrusion that fills his guts and has him drool onto the forest floor like a dog as he tries to ride the feeling.

He feels strangely pregnant; something writhing in his belly while his cock is fat and ready though he is suitably sure there’ll be no warm hole for him to fuck tonight.

He shouldn’t have left the camp to take a leak. The boss said they should not wander off alone.

Jesse never had been good at taking commands.

Part 2 ^^ … hmm I don’t know if I should warn for incest since they’re not really brothers in the AU but Genji calls him big brother and in canon they are family so… ye I’ll warn for incest aöskfjaösklfj also kinda rape-play in this part. Hanzo loves it but he’s also a goddamn diva.

Part 1

Hanzo is draped across Genji’s lap once more as they watch Jesse getting groomed. The canine is as well-behaved as a show dog, sitting still and letting servants get at him with an utmost patience that Genji would not have anticipated from what was little more than a street urchin when compared to Hanzo’s flawless pedigree.

He is preening, too – especially when a young servant tries to tame the thick bush around his cock; broad shoulders straightening and sharp teeth flashing in a roguish grin towards Hanzo who sits up with a start and turns away.

He is skittish, cock plump and interested as it presses against the sheer silk of his garments – nothing hidden from Genji’s interested, amused gaze.

“Don’t play hard to get, big brother,” he purrs, fingertip tracing the pudgy mound of a nipple. Hanzo’s ears twitch and lower. He doesn’t like being made fun of, but he’s also a good puppy and has learned well over the years.

Genji is delighted.

.o.

Their first coupling doesn’t go as smoothly as Genji would have liked, but only on account of Hanzo being a drama queen and insisting on making the loudest ruckus possible.

Jesse does not seem intimidated by the loud howling at least. Genji watches with a good amount of fascination as the large canine mounts his stocky bitch and presses Hanzo down with big paws on the back of his shoulders.

He holds him secure as his hips shimmy around, searching for that plush little gash he’s supposed to slip into, all the while his tail is wagging enthusiastically.

There is no second-guessing of when he manages to find his goal: Hanzo howls like he is being fucked on a red-hot poker, and Genji is under no illusion that he can feel each and every intimate centimeter of that big, fat doggy cock pounding into him.

Hanzo is not weak by any means; Genji can see his muscles tensing, preparing to buck his partner off, but Jesse has decidedly more leverage and keeps him down with ease as his tongue lolls out and his hips piston fast and merciless.

Hanzo’s sharp teeth clack audibly together as he’s getting rammed, his mesmerizing gold eyes rimmed with tears as the canine’s cock pushes deeper than any other device that Genji had ever used on him.

He crawls closer, fingertips scratching through Hanzo’s well-groomed beard, staring down into his teary face as his howling subsides in favor of pitiful whines that get drowned by the wet squelching sound of his hole working overtime to make the rough coupling as smooth as possible.

“I bet he’s so deep,” Genji murmurs, “bet his pretty cock can kiss up to your cervix…” Hanzo closes his eyes on a low, drawn-out groan. He looks tortured but there is colour in his cheeks, and his body starts relaxing; sinking into the ground as he calms down and accepts the mounting. “It’ll be no time at all until he breeds you up, Hanzo. After all, he can deposit his cream right where you need it, huh?”

Hanzo whimpers. His tail is curved helpfully to the side; offering his hole up as Jesse’s hands slip down from his mate’s shoulders, bracing himself against the floor next to his head. He leans down, tongue out and lovingly licking all over Hanzo’s shoulders and the back of his neck as his sharp thrusts slow down and become more powerful. Deeper.

Hanzo howls in his first show of real pain as the blunt, swollen head knocks against his cervix, and Genji is quick to shush him through it.

“You will learn to enjoy it,” he promises him, commiserating with his pup as Jesse gnaws at the flawless skin of his shoulder, already taken by the pretty purebred canine beneath him.

Genji shushes Hanzo as he is forced to take Jesse’s knot, and offers him his cock to lap at as he gets filled with his mates load to the brim, the frothy mess dripping out of his abused, gaping hole when Jesse finally pulls free some ten minutes later.

He is there immediately, lapping at the swollen, buttery soft rim, cleaning up his own cream as Hanzo weakly pushes it out again, bearing down to get rid of the hot mess in his belly.

Genji pats his head and down his trembling back. It wouldn’t do for him to do it when he was ready to be bred, but he would make arrangements to ensure the seed would stay where it needed to go instead of Jesse’s greedy belly or Hanzo’s trembling thighs.

Maybe a plug – or some special panties.

Hanzo is easy for it when he’s starved for dick like he is now; he doesn’t need much – he’s on a constant knife’s edge, thrumming like an engine beneath Jesse and just waiting for an excuse to come quick and dirty.

Jesse is draped across his back, mouth dragging roughly against one exposed, hot ear. His cock is deep inside Hanzo; immovable but girthy, feeling how desperately the archer’s insides try to milk him.

His hands are sandwiched between two nice, plush pecs and the unforgiving steel of the headboard, but he doesn’t have it in him to tell Hanzo to move: he has been pressing his chest and cheek up to the unforgiving wall and steel, crawled up there in desperation as Jesse had started pressing inward, cock stretching him fiercely, and now he is just trapped there it seems; unable to make himself push away and into the cradle of McCree’s hips.

“That’s it,” Jesse mumbles, trying to move his fingers some more. The rough tips are dragging feather light across Hanzo’s pudgy areolas, dipping inside the little slits every now and then to kiss up to the hidden tips of his nipples.

Hanzo’s insides move in tandem; quivering and twitching with every soft touch, mouth open and eyes blank.

Tonight, Jesse will let him have his cock; it is just a test-run, after all; trying to make Hanzo come from nothing but his slutty tits. Soon, he will switch to fingers before trying the real deal.

The little whining sounds Hanzo produces already are a good indication that he will be more than happy to go along with the scheme – but Jesse will have to be gentle. Patient. Give his warm little hole a cock to hug and hold on to until his brain has learned that it doesn’t need to get fucked to get off.

Jesse is positive they will manage.

Okami Hanzo domming a coyote pup Mccree? Pls? I need young Mccree with a wreaked pussy and abused tits.

The pup is thin but not emaciated. Sinewy. Scrappy, more like. Not much body fat to warm him, fur too scraggly along his arms and legs in the confused, half-transformed state he is sporting now.

He shivers, getting antsy and trying to shift away, but a low, almost distracted whuff from Hanzo gets him to behave once more, skinny hips lifting into the air, bushy tail out of the way as he presents to the wolf.

Hanzo’s eyes are half-lidded, posture relaxed as he laps at the gorgeous cunt; surprisingly juicy for such a scrappy coyote pup. Fragrant and blooming open under his insistent tongue dragging across swollen lips again and again.

Every now and then he will focus on the thick clit sitting there at their apex, puffy and prominent. It will get Jesse to groan into the dusty ground, hole dilating for a second, insides clenching to work out more of his slick before it will clench down tight again.

The sight is mesmerizing.

Hanzo doesn’t even know if he wants to mount him this time. He likes the nervous, young energy radiating off the coyote – is flattered by the servant-like deference he displayed towards him.

He has yet a lot to learn, naturally, but Hanzo could be swayed to teach him. He thinks his belly would look a lot better, taut and bulging with his young.

The McHanzo thing I had been talking about yesterday. It went a little different than I wanted it to be (… I wrote half the thing in my head before falling asleep and it was DA BOMB and the second I sit down I can’t bring out a well-formed sentence :’ ) ) but it is aight all in all.

McCree dreams vividly, but not thoughtlessly. He is always conscious of his dreamstate, even if is not exactly possible for him to actively influence what happens.

So when he opens his eyes and realizes he is in the middle of working over his father’s field, he only smirks quietly and keeps going, motions smooth and practiced even though he hasn’t done the work in was more than three decades.

He wonders who will visit him this time. Working with Overwatch has given him plenty of jerk-off fuel, what with working with people of all different shapes and sizes, and genders but all around gorgeous.

The land around him looks dull and strangely devastated. Almost post-apocalyptic as there is no bump in the burning, orange horizon. None of the green, juicy fields to be seen that Jesse had grown up with; only the certainty of a dream that this is, indeed, his father’s farm.

He eyes the stable every now and then; wonders if Mako will lumber out any second, huge and silent, glinting with sweat. His large gut – center piece of a lot of McCree’s idle fantasies when he sits around the base; thinking of how nice i would be to fuck his cock against the massive, firm expanse of it – heaving with his breaths of exertion.

However, this is not a Mako dream. It is, apparently, a Hanzo dream.

The archer is suddenly just there next to him, dressed in a fine suit that seems just a tad too tight; the see-through white dress shirt straining across his pecs, the two buttons there looking ready to pop off at any second.

He has his suit jacket across his shoulder, and even without a car to be seen anywhere, McCree knows with deep certainty that he’d broken down on the nonexistent road.

“Howdy,” Jesse drawls, righting himself up. In his dream, Hanzo is always a little different than in reality. A bit smaller, a bit kinder. A bit more amorous. Like now as he smiles up at Jesse, thin but there, letting his expensive suit jacket fall into the dust.

“Please,” he murmurs, stepping a little closer and into Jesse’s personal space; not shy of the grime and sweat Jesse is sporting; meticulously clean hand lifting to be placed across Jesse’s swarthy chest. “I need your assistance.”

“Do you now,” Jesse drawles, eyes travelling down, eying Hanzo’s chest. Watching just how see-through it is, his dark, small nipples looking obscene and swollen through the fabric.

“I am in need,” Hanzo continues, deep voice so cultivated and friendly – a cat purring for a treat.

He dreams of Hanzo more often than of the other Overwatch members. It is a little embarrassing. Not as embarrassing as what he will make Hanzo do and say in his dreams.

There, Hanzo is not constantly cool and crippled by his past. In his dreams, Hanzo will open his tight shirts and show him the plumpness of his pecs; hard and round with muscle. He’ll cup them and offer them to him, voice still a purring lilt as he asks him once more to help; tells him he needs the relieve.

In dreams, there is nothing weird about him just leaning down in the middle of the dusty, infertile field and moulding his lips around one of Hanzo’s plump nipples. There is nothing weird about suckling like a babe, and listening to Hanzo’s breathing growing deep and labored, one hand lovingly carding through Jesse’s hair.

The next day, Jesse will be awkward around Hanzo – taciturn and a little shy, the vivid dream still so prominent that he thinks he can taste the thick cream of Hanzo’s milk pouring across his tongue – but in the dream, feelings of humiliation and embarrassment are far away.

There is nobody there to judge him; nobody there to question the hayball suddenly there, perfect to bend Hanzo across – or how he can just sink into the snug fit of the archer’s body without preparation.

Hanzo is even warmer than the stifling, dry heat around them. He grunts and arches with Jesse’s thrusts, crooning at him; telling him how much he loves it. How he craves the unforgiving girth of Jesse’s cock to spread him open until tears shoot into his eyes.

He’ll tell him how he wants to worship his cock; go down on his knees and be smothered by the heavy sac of Jesse’s balls; the weight of his dick. How he wants to be down and warm his cock in the tight sleeve of his throat. How he’ll let Jesse hold him down; choke him on his dick until he gags.

All of that he tells him in his deep, cultivated voice; accent thick and mesmerizing and doing things with Jesse’s head.

In his dreams, Hanzo is the perfect fit on his cock; tight and warm and slick; always so ready to receive, that little pink hole opening up greedily, muscles buttery soft for Jesse’s thick, rude fingers, and his even thicker, ruder dick. He’ll ripple around him like a seasoned whore, clenching and suckling, body obviously well trained to play with a cock, and Jesse will find himself wondering about it in his waking hours; watching Hanzo surreptitiously from beneath the wide brim of his hat – trailing the muscles of his body and staring at the always-unhappy slant of his wide, sensual mouth.

Jesse dreams of everyone in Overwatch, but Hanzo visits him by far the most often.

Mister Shimada thinks he’s pretty clever, Jesse supposes. Or, just as likely: he thinks McCree is an idiot.

He grins wryly, big hands curling around Shimada’s trim hips, holding on for the ride as the man slowly lifts himself up onto his knees. His cock emerges in a gratifying slow slide; wet and girthy, the swollen rim dragging along; clinging, suckling, clenching.

He’s not the first Mr. Shimada has approached – he has no illusions there. The whole thing is too practiced: the room carefully arranged and picked out to the prissy man’s exact standards. Jesse, who has no qualms about rickety beds with squeaking hinges (in fact, is quite partial to them, as they so boost his ego), doesn’t care either way.

He’s got his dick in a warm, pretty thing, and is lounging in a hotel room far above his pay grade to do so.

That Mr. Shimada is ignoring him is… annoying, but no deal breaker.

Mr. Shimada thinks Jesse is an idiot, after all, and the fact amuses Jesse to no end. Enough so to let the guy play.

In reality, Jesse knows exactly what’s up: has figured it out the moment the little whore had started groping his belly, hairy and with a good layer of fat, face twisted in what should look like disgust but actually seemed more desperately hungry. Like he hated himself for how much he loved how imperfect McCree is.

A suspicion that was only confirmed by how Mr. Shimada preened in front of the mirror; back ramrod straight, spine a sensual, sweat slick curve in front of Jesse’s admiring eyes. He’d brace himself with both hands just above Jesse’s knees, and make sure his biceps bracketed the generous swell of his tits.

He’d watch his own cock bounce in the reflection; pink and not entirely hard, but still oh-so-pretty as he fucked himself on Jesse’s cock.

Next to Shimada’s noble beauty, Jesse is a mutt; hairy and soft around the middle; chest not as firm as it used to be, beard too unkempt.

He doesn’t much care, though, if it gets him Shimada’s tight body after long tedious meetings. Doesn’t care at all, in fact, if he doesn’t have to do anything; just lie there and let Shimada cuddle with his dick while he puffs on a cigar and enjoys life.

He’d not the idiot Shimada thinks him to be, but he’ll definitely not let him know.

Bush viper Hanzo, smol and powerful and quick, and Gaboon viper/rattlesnake Jesse, so much bigger and lazy and thicc. Jesse just laying over Hanzo doing his pretty mating dance and wrapping around him, holding him down. Hanzo is being indignant and trying to play it cool but how can he when that agile little rattle/tip of his tail is slowly playing with the opening of his cloaca and getting him ready for Jesse’s snake dicc?

Anonymous said: “

Rattlesnake Jesse. His tail starts rattling during orgasm. :3c

“

When Hanzo moves, the sharp scales along the back of his tail dig into the softer flesh of McCree’s underside. He grunts, twisting once again, trying to keep his prey still while the inquisitive tip of his tail nudges against the tightly closed genital slit.

“Come on,” he huffs, rubbing his scruffy chin along the side of Hanzo’s face. “Come on.” He’s definitely whining, but there’s nothing to it. He’s horny, and Hanzo is beneath him, pretty and warm from the sun he’d been lying in just a moment ago, and writhing so enticingly just for him.

“You are a brute,” Hanzo hisses, fingers digging into the loose sand around them, trying to drag himself away to no avail: Jesse is easily twice as heavy and crushing him against the warm ground. “And get off of me,” Hanzo spits, blue tail lashing, trying to twist himself out from beneath McCree’s frustratingly thorough grip.

He can feel himself loosing the uphill battle quickly. McCree is a charmer, even if he is unbelievably clumsy, and Hanzo can feel the sticky wet drag of his cock against the back of his tail.

McCree is already out and needy, when Hanzo’s muscles are just about now starting to give in to the insistent prodding of his cheekily rattling tail.

“Just a little bit,” McCree murmurs, wheedling as he reaches around and cups Hanzo’s pec, squeezing it in time with his slow, rolling thrusts.

As it looks to Hanzo, McCree will be too lazy to drag himself around and fuck him; rather, he’ll rub himself off against Hanzo’s smooth, warm scales, taking the pain of the sharp ridges along his spine digging into his soft belly in stride, while feeling Hanzo up and playing with the silky slit of his genitals.

It could be a worse day, he supposes.

Oooooh man I’m actually really feeling softdom!Young! Hanzo bullying older McCree??? Like Hanzo all proper and polite, and McCree totally overwhelmed and spoiled by this young prince? Maybe it steps a little bit into HardDom territory, with Hanzo teasing/edging McCree, who’s totally beholden to this vision of youthful beauty… maybe even Hanzo deigning to touch McCree’s cock with his impossibly delicate feet… if you’re feeling it, that is. If not, then that’s ok too! :)

Hanzo likes it when Mr. McCree takes him out to dinner, though not for the reason most people might assume. He enjoys the free food and company well enough, but his real enjoyment came from the needy, hopeful looks Mr. McCree shot him, and the knowing little glances they got from all around the tables. Those glances that told him the other patrons thought they knew exactly what was up: Hanzo being young and pretty and going to be fucked on Mr. McCree’s big cock sooner rather than later after the dinner.

He thinks it’s amusing that they think like that when both of them knew how the evening would really go.

“Sit down,” Hanzo orders him as soon as they step into Mr. McCree’s expensive apartment. His big hands flutter helplessly around Hanzo’s hips for a moment, obviously debating whether he should have a touch, but ultimately deciding against it. He blows out a long breath and sits in the chair Hanzo had indicated with a regal nod of his head.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Hanzo asks him mildly, playing with his tie and slowly loosening the tight, perfect knot. Mr. McCree’s head tilts back, showing him his throat. He swallows hard and nods, watching the gape of Hanzo’s shirt.

Hanzo, noticing his distraction, smirks and stands up. He sheds the garment and cups a pec with one hand. Watches how Mr. McCree’s eyes bug out and his cheeks get ruddy red beneath his beard.

“Did you like ogling me tonight?” he continues.

“You’re way too pretty,” McCree agrees with a groan. He lifts his hands and drags them across his face. He looks like a man with an addiction, and Hanzo enjoys that very much.

“Open your pants. Show me your cock.”

Mr. McCree lets out a long, whistling breath through his nose. His hands are shaking as he fumbles with his pants, hectic as a young teen as he fishes inside his boxers and doesn’t manage to pull his cock out for the longest time.

When he finally does manage to wrestle it free from the wet fabric, he grunts in elation, slumping back, large barrel chest heaving as he presents Hanzo with the fat dick; ruddy red and with bulging veins. Not a pretty cock but so very, very tempting.

Hanzo’s mouth waters at the sight; the way Mr. McCree’s large fingers play unselfconsciously with the foreskin; pulling it back and displaying the shiny fat tip to Hanzo’s dark, intent gaze.

“You know what they think?” Hanzo murmurs as he slips out of his boots and leans down to pull off his socks. “They think I’m drooling on your cock right now. That you fuck my throat with that big, fat dick of yours.”

It is crude, and not his preferred way to talk, but he’s found out early how very much Mr. McCree likes it when he’s being lewd. Like now as he groans and tightens his fingers in a ring just beneath the swollen glans; milking a few drops from the slit.

“You like it that they think that way,” Hanzo states, rucking up his pant leg and lifting his foot; so smooth and unblemished looking next to McCree’s dark red dick.

It feels hot against the sole of his foot as he presses it up against McCree’s clothed belly. He allows himself a smirk as the older man immediately snatches his hand away; letting him play with his cock however he likes.

He is chuffing away like a steam engine, hands clawing at the armrests of his chair. His chin is on his chest, staring down at Hanzo’s toes curling and uncurling against the swollen head.

“If only they knew,” Hanzo murmurs, straightening his slim ankle to press the ball of his foot more firmly against McCree’s shaft. “That you pay me to be mean to you…”

For all that Hanzo is shy about that particular need of his – and very pointedly does not want to discuss it – he has managed to accumulate a veritable harem of daddies.

So when Reinhardt is indisposed by work or his own aging body, McCree will gladly take his place.

Hanzo loves and loathes these occasions in equal measures.

McCree makes it just so… so very… embarrassing.

He doesn’t let him hide for once; crooning just as syrupy-sweet as Reinhardt but catching his wrists all the same; holding them down and out of the way, watching with self-indulgent intent the way Hanzo’s chest heaves; nipples perky and on display for his viewing pleasure.

McCree is simultaneously a lazier and a stricter Daddy than Reinhardt. He likes to lie back and have Hanzo sit on his big, fat, ruddy cock – but he also likes to tell him exactly how to work his cunt along his dick.

He likes to grab Hanzo’s thighs and pinch him; slap his ass and pull at his nipples, all the while lazily sucking on the end of a cigar he sloppily stuck in the corner of his mouth.

He likes to hear Hanzo whine. He likes to see him flushed and unsure, dark eyes wet and mouth open.

McCree doesn’t indulge his more petulant moods as much as Reinhardt does. He pushes, and goads, and – on a few memorable occasions – has denied to give Hanzo his cock if he hadn’t behaved beforehand.

After sessions with Jesse, Hanzo is empty and serene. Tuckered out like a little puppy, pliant and open to get filled with warm affection.

And for all that he is ambivalent about the way McCree goes about his business, there’s no question about how much he loves his cock. How eager he is to be allowed to spend hours on his knees, happily drooling into the coarse thatch of pubes, hands on the low hanging balls to keep them nice and warm so they’d fill him up good later on.

He loves sitting down on it; feeling how the fleshy girth in the middle of the shaft will stretch him that much wider; until his eyes start to tear up and his nose begins to run. He loves scratching his fingers through McCree’s chest hair; to hold on to it during the ride, watching McCree’s face contort with pain at the sharp tugs, but letting him do it all the same.

Sometimes, Hanzo will be overwhelmed with the feeling of McCree’s cock in his belly; will lie down on him and rub his cheek mindlessly against his soft pecs, babbling for Daddy as his hips move relentlessly; filling himself over and over again; making himself take everything Daddy had to give.

And other times, Reinhardt will be there, too; his huge hands cupping Hanzo’s pecs; fingers rolling the painfully sensitive nipples, squeezing his chest – showing it off for McCree’s viewing pleasure.

Hanzo thinks he likes those times the best. When both Daddies are there to gentle him down afterwards; box him in between their thick, hairy bodies and keep him down as long as he needs to.

They make the most delightful little sounds when they’re nose deep in the other’s crack.

Gabriel leans far back in his chair, fist clenched around the squat glass of liquor, eyes shining feverishly as he watches Jesse and Hanzo squirm for him on the ground.

Jesse is grunting softly as he buries himself deeper, arms hugging around Hanzo’s waist like a vice. Afraid he’ll get his treat taken away before he’s licked all of Gabriel’s cream from the sloppy hole.

Hanzo is a beast more often than not – his fear is well grounded. He can’t fool him for it.

Hanzo is more quiet; more reserved in expressing his greed, but not less eager for it. He is eating Jesse like a champ, pale hands on his brown cheeks, pulling them apart, buried in the hairy crack of the cowboy’s ass.

He likes it down there. Loves it, even. He’d never admit to it, but it is apparent in the way he sighs every now and then, eyes closed, lashes a dark, adoring whisper against his high, sharp cheek bones.

If Gabriel leans to the side just right, he can see a slip of pink tongue every now and then; delving deep into the loose, warm hole. He can just imagine it; dragging along the swollen walls. Tasting Gabriel’s cock as it had rubbed along them not ten minutes ago.

Jesse is wheezing softly, squirming beneath Hanzo’s weight. Hanzo is unapologetic about lying down on him, making him bear all of him. Their bellies are squished together, their cocks snuggled against throats; hard and weeping and ignored in favor of the real treat.

So hungry for Gabriel’s cock, they take everything they can get.

Jesse had been almost weepy as he realized Hanzo got the main attraction for the night; their hips pressed together, asses up almost comically high – trying to entice him with the dark gapes of their cunts.

He’s fucked them both at once; holding the other over with thick fingers jammed up that greedy, suckling space before pulling out and replacing them with his dick for a few deep, self-indulgent thrusts.

Despite his earlier whining, Jesse looks happy now. He’s gotten what he wanted after all, and Gabriel suspects it might be his favorite to taste anyway. He’s not as greedy to get his belly warmed as Hanzo is; always vying for a fuck; always begging with his eyes and the presentation of his pretty tits.

Jesse is calmer; more mellowed but equally greedy.

Gabriel can rarely keep up with them.

He sips from his glass, cock still out and wet, watching them lick each other’s ass out, trying to one-up the other. Be better, quicker, smarter.

He can see Hanzo’s hand start to inch towards Jesse’s heavy balls. Hanzo has always been a cheater, and none of them had yet been able to train it out of him. They enjoy it too much anyway.

Gabriel lets his head fall back against the headrest, staring blearily at the ceiling as he watches to their messy, wet sounds. Jesse’s grunting and Hanzo’s soft little panting.

Sometimes he can’t believe what a goddamn lucky man he is.