what can I say; I just love cuckolding 76; I don’t know why


“Look how much he enjoys it,” Reaper’s voice is a sibilant hiss right into the good Soldier’s ear, both of them watching the display of Lúcio and Mako; the young man looking shockingly small in Roadhog’s embrace, back curved to a point of pain from the huge gut pressing into his back.

Roadhog shifts his short, sturdy legs apart and nudges his hips forward. He is not brutal in his fucking but he is negligent: holding Lúcio with one meaty hand hooked beneath his arm, the sausage-like fingers splayed across the young man’s chest.

Lúcio makes a soft sound when the cock is moved – a gurgling that almost seems like the coo of a pigeon as he embraces Hog’s huge forearm, holding on for dear life, his cock shiny at the tip and strings of sticky pre-cum slowly dripping to the floor.

The Soldier jerks forward at the strained noise but black tendrils curl around his biceps and pull him back.

“I said look, Morrison,” Reaper hisses dangerously, “not touch. What do you want to do anyway? You can’t give it to him as much as he needs it.”

Lúcio’s knees are trembling, his eyes looking glassy and wet. He seems close to crying, straining to push back and just managing a kitten weak shove. Roadhog snuffles – closer to a grunt – and moves his other hand, splaying it against the taut belly, the little finger just above the place where Lúcio’s abdomen was bulging gently from the cock nudging in deep and intimate.

“Your cock can’t do that,” Reaper hums. He sounds gleeful, one tendril sliding down and curling between the Soldier’s legs. “He’ll moan for you and whine and maybe even come but you know he does it just to humor you, don’t you? You couldn’t give it to him like that.”

Mako grunts softly again and lifts straightens from his hunched over position, simply lifting Lúcio with him, letting gravity work to sit him down the precious last inches of sturdy, fat cock he hasn’t been able to take yet.

Lúcio’s mouth falls open, cock jerking, legs feebly kicking as his feet lose connection to the ground.

“You know he’ll be thinking of this next time you try to wring a little pity orgasm out of him,” Reaper taunts, stroking the bulge he can feel, tendril lovingly cupping the hard ridge of the Soldier’s angry and reluctant erection. “Think of how wide he’s been spread on that fat cock. How it took days for his sweet little cunt to come back to normal. How good it hurt when that scary wide head finally popped it.”

The good Soldier is panting like a dog, watching Roadhog no longer fucking with his hips but with his hands, lifting and lowering Lúcio onto the short, wide cock – still long enough to push against his lower abdomen and give him a little belly.

“He’ll think of how warm he got filled. A nice, big load just for him alone. He’ll think of that the next time you rut him like a dog and leave him with just the unsatisfying afterglow of what he could really have.”