But it was undeniable all the same; he arched his ass up, offering the sweet, warm slit of his hole to Jesse McCree and he sounded like he was choking as he rasped “Daddy…”

He pressed his face into his arms, refusing to look back and see McCree’s smug face. His hands were huge on Gabriel’s hips, squeezing, feeling up how broad they were. How sturdy.

Still, Gabriel felt goddamn small compared to Jesse. He’d filled out almost violently in his time here; the scrawny, mouthy kid suddenly a lumbering tree; tall and thick and hairy.

Gabriel could feel the crisp, dark hair tickling him as he got pulled onto Jesse’s lap, the slide slow and inexorable. There was no way to escape McCree’s lazy dominance. His cocksure knowledge that Gabriel Reyes was in love with his dick and would never deny it.

His thighs are huge and warm and rock hard, forcing Gabriel to spread his knees father; to accommodate their sheer width.

“That’s it,” McCree croons, indistinct, a cigar clamped between his teeth. “What a sweet little hole you have. Such a gorgeous little peach; just for me.”

Gabriel moves his knees, shifts his legs, digs his toes into the bedding. He is restless, his thighs quivering, large chest heaving as he arches some more – offers himself up, cock swinging heavily between his thighs. It feels like a hot, pulsing wound; stuffed full. 

He can feel McCree’s lazy regard. He’s never been impatient; always slow and deliberate; almost obtuse in his fucking. Gabriel had no idea where he learned how to work his body like he did.

McCree shifts behind him. Gabriel can hear him slowly, deeply inhale – and then exhale, the tickle of the smoke blowing in a steady, gentle stream against his clenching hole.

“All just for me,” Jesse purrs and Gabriel almost swallows his tongue.

“Da-…”

Jesse maneuvers him and angles him; using his Commander’s body, slipping the fat, blunt tip of his cock into that warm, prepared space. Gabriel can feel his eyes tear up with the stretch; can feel his tongue starting to loll out because it’s that or try and scramble away from the mind boggling pressure; the feeling of sheer, dumbfounding fullness as McCree starts rocking in slowly, making him stretch, stretch, stretch, filling him up, up, up; one huge hand on Gabriel’s round hip – the other petting him, rubbing soothingly across his back.

“Good boy,” Jesse hums. He shifts, finally, goes up onto his knees and ranges across Gabriel’s body – lets him feel how huge the kid had gotten; his massive thighs slotted in right behind Gabriel’s. “God, you feel so good. Perfect cunt for daddy. Perfect, goddamn cunt.”

Gabriel can’t breathe; the cock has filled out his whole being and doesn’t let him take any more air in. His belly feels swollen; hot. Like he’s filled with warm stones. He feels like he has to be bloated with McCree’s dick. He wants him out. He wants him away. He wants him to move and fuck him and curl one of his thick, hairy arms across Gabriel’s chest and hold him tenderly as he rocked into him.

McCree seemed incapable of really fucking. Maybe he was too lazy. Maybe he was not interested in a quick, hard slap of hips.

All he did was rock and make Gabriel crazy on the length of his barely shifting dick.

“Daddy,” Gabriel whispered, explosively, the shame cresting within him, nipples going hard and painfully sensitive. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy…”

“I gotcha,” McCree rumbles, rubs his unkempt beard against Gabriel’s shoulder. “Gotcha. What a perfect little cunt. What a sweet little peach.”