Overwatch: Atonement, ch.2

Author's Note: DONE.

Tentatively changing the name of this series to "Overwatch: Atonement" now that a central theme has kinda made itself apparent. Was never a great fan of "Overwatch'd" and all the obvious titles are taken.

Anywho, lot of fun with this one and I think it's pretty hot stuff. Kinda has me excited to do more installments of this series and kinda build upon this new canon that's developing.

If you have any ideas for a better title, go ahead and tell me in the comments! And, like, let me know if you dig the story or whatever!

[story] [futax3] [voyeurism] [anal/DAP] [frotting] [hotdogging] [sharing/swinging] [ahegao]

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“Cocoa?”

Amèlie blinked, jarred from her long moment of silent introspection, her golden eyes having gone distant some time ago. Since the... incident, last week, since Sombra’s betrayal and the weakening of the stranglehold Talon had on the mind of the assassin known as the Widowmaker, everything had been different. Abandoning the mission, fraternizing with Overwatch, and actively resisting her conditioning had made Amèlie an official enemy of Talon, and since that night on the rooftop she’d been hunted by the organization she’d once worked for. Typical.

This, infuriatingly enough, had driven her directly into the open arms of Overwatch, even if Amèlie had yet to officially participate in any of their missions. Over the past week, the sterile white walls of Overwatch HQ had become home. She was on a short leash, but not as short as Talon might have extended in such a situation. And for certain members of this legion of do-gooders, specifically Tracer, Widowmaker was already being accepted as a part of the family.

“You don’t want it to get cold, do you?” Mei’s smile was infuriatingly warm to someone who had felt the intense chill of her weapon. Still, Amèlie reached out wordlessly to take the cup with both hands, offering a narrow, forced smile of her own before sipping from the massive mug. The cool nights had faded to the beginnings of winter almost overnight as September had started to set in, and outside the window of the facility was a blanket of snow that welcomed the dispelling effects of a warm drink.

The chinese girl watched for a moment, her smile widening in anticipation of some kind of reaction before finally faltering. “Well... enjoy!” she said, scooting backwards and going to fix a cup for herself. With the amount of sweaters being worn around this place, one would think it was already Christmas -- still, the feeling of companionship, even if Widowmaker didn’t respond to it particularly well, was... comforting. These people felt like a family, a family that Amèlie hadn’t been able to have. A family that had been taken from her, what felt like so long ago.

“Why the long face, luv?” The whoosh of displaced air and time beside her was so well-known to Widowmaker that she didn’t even physically register Tracer’s arrival beside her.

“I’m... not,” Amèlie replied awkwardly, casting her eyes sidelong at the adorable british girl sitting beside her on the couch. The main lobby of the Overwatch headquarters was a great place to people-watch, but a horrendous place to not get disturbed by anyone who came along. What she wouldn’t do for a sniper’s nest. “I’m just--”

The assassin was cut off as a snowball zipped past her head from the opened front gate, heading in Lena’s direction -- though the agent deftly dodged it. “Oh, you cheeky bugger!” Tracer called out, abandoning the couch and speeding towards the door, where Reinhardt stood guard, a massive snowball in each hand. Shifting slowly backwards, he tossed one ball, then another, missing both times as Tracer ran circles around him, gathering snow projectiles of her own. Behind them, Widowmaker could see other members of the team laughing and playing -- but the sounds were shut off as the door swung closed. Then it was just her, alone in the lobby, looking down into a cup of hot chocolate she’d only taken one sip from.

Grumbling lowly under her breath, the sniper stood, taking another sip from her mug before setting it beside her. Nothing left for her here, and she definitely didn’t feel enough at ease with the rest of the team to go out and join the snowball fight. This did, however, provide a solid (and opportunity) to explore the facility out from beneath watchful eyes. Not like she provided any real threat, anyway -- she’d been disarmed upon going into this glorified witness protection program, her rifle, goggles, and other such toys confiscated and hidden away somewhere. It might be useful, though, to know exactly where that somewhere was.

Straightening the front of her suit and conspicuously rearranging the wedgie she’d been silently enduring for some time, the frenchwoman slipped out of the central lobby and towards the back hallways of the Overwatch HQ.

Let’s see... side bathroom, mess hall, shower room (that had been interesting)... all places Amèlie had already been. Creeping along a little further, she carefully traced the narrow yellow stripe along the walls to keep track of her direction, hoping she’d be able to trace it back when the time came to go back to somewhere less suspicious. Bunkrooms? Doubtful that she’d find anything there, unless the agents of Overwatch just divided up Widowmaker’s belongings and stashed them under their respective beds. Even they weren’t that stupid. Then again, maybe the--

The sniper stiffened, the hair on the back of her neck lifting as she heard something, a soft sound, not close but neither far. Behind some surface or wall, if she had to guess. She’d done enough long-distance shooting that she could find a target from miles away, even without her goggles, and this sound had piqued her interest quickly. Weren’t all of the agents outside? Tracer, Reinhardt, Mei... she’d heard a number of other voices outside, but it wasn’t at all impossible that someone else had skipped the festivities and, like Widowmaker herself, remained inside.

Slithering like a shadow away from the bunks, she made her way closer to the sound, waiting for it to grow louder, her footsteps entirely silent so as to more easily listen and move. The sound was soft, yet... intense, layered. Passionate? Rhythmic. It grew louder as Amèlie crept along the empty, echoing hallways, making a hard left towards the in-house infirmary. She’d been here before, to treat a few minor wounds and occasionally speak to Dr. Ziegler about her conditioning at the hands of Talon. There was nothing else in this wing, that she knew of, but why--

Widowmaker’s eyes widened into darkly glimmering beacons of fiery yellow as she peered through the glass windows leading to the little clinic, past the opaque caduceus emblazoned on it. Sitting in Dr. Ziegler’s swivel-chair was... well, Dr. Ziegler, by proxy of another. The flygirl that Amèlie had taken such joy in shooting out of the sky time and time again -- Pharah? Was that her name? -- sat with her legs spread, her suit off and everything underneath it off as well, and the good doktor was mounted in her lap, facing her. The two were locked in a deep, desperate kiss, eyes closed as they tightly embraced, their bare bodies pressing and squishing into one another lustfully. The moans, most certainly, were coming from them.

As Widowmaker leaned closer though, getting a better view of their union, she saw right away that the two agents were doing a lot more than kissing -- Mercy’s backside faced her, her back arching, globes of her rear jiggling lightly from the impact each time the egyptian’s hips would thrust up against her. With each such upward thrust, a considerable length of long, dark girlcock would drive up and into that snug back passage, stretching open Mercy’s tight pink hole as the two clung to each other, kissing, moaning, their soft breasts sliding back and forth across one another as they became one. They were doing more than fucking, Widowmaker realized. The pair was making love, seemingly keeping their relationship a secret, stealing away when the rest of the team was away and staying tucked in a place nobody had any reason to come... except, of course, for snooping spiders.

Trying to stay by the edge of the window, Widowmaker kept her eyes locked on the scene, finding herself immediately drawn in. It brought her back to that night on the rooftop, all the lust she’d felt and the way it had broken her barriers, weakening her while simultaneously empowering her, giving her a sense of clarity through the intensity of her lust. Her walls breaking down to free the woman underneath, if only for a short time. Amèlie found her heart racing in her chest as she watched, watched that thick girlcock ram its way into Mercy’s backdoor again and again, filling it, making the swiss doctor full, making her moan out into her lover’s lips, screaming into their kiss.

Amèlie’s hand slowly traced down her own body, caressing between her breasts and to the front of her suit, rubbing her palm along the swelling bulge there. It was no use trying to contain it -- her cock was getting so stiff already from watching, and only pulsing with a more hungry desire as Pharah’s thrusts increased in force and speed, her tongue writhing and twirling around Mercy’s. Finding the tiny, hidden clasp of a zipper just at the bottom end of her suit’s deep V, she began to zip it down, gasping when she felt her own dick bounce free, stiff and blue and aching to be touched.

She licked her lips, eyes darting back to the scene, hearing Mercy’s moans grow into cries of ecstasy as she was deeply, passionately assfucked, the pristine flesh of her butt bouncing and rippling gorgeously as she took that thick cock inside of her. Amèlie wrapped her fingers tightly around her own shaft, her breathing picking up as she watched through the window, as of yet unnoticed as the two women immersed themselves in one another. Pharah’s hips picked up in pace even further now, going incredibly fast but losing focus and rhythm, ramming deep and rough into that snug, accommodating ass as Mercy rocked back down onto her, riding her secret lover, screaming out in bliss as she felt her tight hole filled with more than just dick. Both women shook and spasmed, moaning into each other’s lips as Mercy’s ass quivered and spluttered; thick, sticky semen beginning to dribble out of the stuffed hole and trickle back down along Lieutenant Amari’s throbbing shaft, between her lifted balls.

Widowmaker’s eyes widened as she watched, stroking her hand more rapidly along her own dick now, panting softly but trying to keep the noise under control. She knew she could get caught at any moment -- it’d be so easy, now -- but she kept going, all control lost as she immersed herself in the fantasy of the scene, her hand going faster and faster... until Pharah opened her eyes, looking across the infirmary. Directly in Amèlie’s direction.

What she’d expected to see -- rage, fear, shame, maybe even violence -- was replaced by something else entirely. Pharah glanced back to her lover, kissing Mercy’s lips softly and directing her gaze to Widowmaker with a little nod. She grinned, and Angela did the same, and after a moment the blonde doctor lifted herself from her lover’s lap, keeping her eyes locked on Amèlie’s and making her way towards the door, opening it. “Vell, vell, vell... I see you’ve found yourself in trouble again, ja?”

“I... I wasn’t...” Widowmaker echoed her statement from earlier, getting about as far as she awkwardly tried to hide her still-raging erection, gazing up and down Mercy’s naked figure -- her perky, gorgeous breasts seemingly untouched by age, her delicate, milky skin. And of course, the stiff girl-dick still erect between her creamy thighs, standing at attention. Pharah was already taking up position behind her lover, sidling up to look over the doctor’s shoulder... and presumably (from Angela’s blissful reaction) sandwiching her thick cock back between the swiss woman’s firm buttocks.

“It certainly seems as though you were,” the egyptian purred, at once firm and playful, making her stance quite obvious -- Amèlie wasn’t getting out of this easy, no matter what direction the snowy evening took.

“We’ve been trying to keep zis a... em, secret,” Mercy cooed, biting her lower lip gently as she reached out to take Widowmaker’s hand, guiding her gently into the infirmary. “And I understand you also should not be wandering Overwatch unsupervised, ja?”

“Not strictly so, no,” Amèlie murmured.

“I think what my lovely doctor is trying to say,” Pharah added as the three women’s combined accents made an adorably sexy mockery of the english language. “Is that if you keep our secret....”

“...Ve may keep yours,” Mercy finished, her warm gray eyes half-lidded in lustful invitation. Widowmaker drifted forward, her heart still racing, unsure what she wanted as Mercy drew her close, a small squeak of excitement finally escaping her when her hard cock bumped into the doctor’s. Drawn closer still, the two twitching shafts squished closer, trapped between two flat, bare bellies now, and Amèlie found her lips clasped by Mercy, her breath stolen in a long, deep kiss.

“Mmmphh...~” Widowmaker murmured under her breath, glancing over Mercy’s shoulder out of the corner of her eye to lock her gaze with Pharah again. Would the woman be mad? Possessive, jealous? Or... nope. Pharah reached one hand around her apparently girlfriend to take Widowmaker by the ponytail, tilting her face away from Angela’s to steal a long kiss of her own, huskily purring into Amèlie’s mouth as her tongue slithered past those silky blue lips, tasting her lover on them.

Amèlie’s hands drifted downwards as she melted into Pharah’s firm, fierce kiss, her eyes drifting shut as she rocked her hips up and into Mercy, grinding hungrily into her stiff shaft. Her fingers slid along the swiss woman’s sides, then hips, down to her backside -- she could feel the steady grinding thrusts of Pharah as the pilot pumped her cock up between those smooth cheeks, the messy cum from their recent coupling providing as much lubricant as one could hope for. Widowmaker did her part to help, pressing both palms against either sides of Mercy’s butt to squish those firm globes together, squeezing them tightly around Pharah’s dick for the egyptian to more easily fuck. The libidinous whimper against her mouth and gentle bite of Amèlie’s lower lip, she would have to take as approval.

“Nnff... ja...” Mercy purred, rocking her hips back and forth between the other two girls, grinding her ass back and forth against Fareeha’s thick, sawing cock while she swordfought with the french assassin, their aching cocks rubbing and slipping along one another, tensing, flexing with heat and pleasure. Despite having just been had by Pharah she was going crazy with sensitivity as that big, dusky rod slid back and forth along the pale, pounded pucker of her asshole, slathering the cum from her recent anal creampie around it and along the creamy, clenched cleft of her rear. She hadn’t had a chance to get off from the intense fucking she’d been receiving earlier, and now that tension was building to unbearable levels -- while Pharah certainly would have finished her off with her mouth, hand, or even breasts, she now had a new opportunity to get off. “Can’t... much... hahhhh...!” she whined inarticulately.

Widowmaker drew back a little, suckling Pharah’s lower lip before pulling away, tilting to lock lips with Mercy again now, kissing her hard as she groped and squeezed that perky ass. The opened front of her suit allowed her nipples to slip and rub along Mercy’s, nearly as stiff as the two throbbing cocks between them. She pressed closer, and now their was no slipping -- those two rods squished so hard against one another that they remained in vertical sync as Amèlie rocked her hips up and down, faster and faster, moaning out into the doctor’s mouth as they forcefully, heatedly gyrated against each other. Each pulse through the veins of Angela’s dick could be felt in Widowmaker’s, throbbing against her, forcing her to release a weakened moan of pleasure.

A sharp gasp and a hard arch of her back heralded the inevitable as Mercy spasmed with ecstasy, a long string of garbled german spewing from her soft pink lips as she rocked her hips back and forth. Each slam backwards sent Pharah’s cock sliding up against her butt, rocking hard against the valley of soft flesh, squelching through the creamy coating of cum -- while every thrust forward sawed her cock against Widowmaker’s thick blue one, her tits squishing into the assassin’s as they frantically kissed, tongues twirling and cavorting until Mercy finally went rigid with climax. “NnnfhfhhaAaAAAAHHhH~!” the good doctor squealed out. Spurt upon spurt of her hot seed shot out across her belly and Amèlie’s both, coating the undersides of their joined breasts and festooning gooey white ropes of lust along the other girl’s cock, dripping down between them.

“Done already, sweetheart?” Pharah purred, still lightly grinding against her lover from behind before shifting to the side, bopping her dick against Mercy’s and Widowmaker’s to help smear around the slick coating of spunk. “I hope you’ve got another round in you,” she leaned down to the shorter woman’s lips, kissing them tenderly as her hands rubbed along Mercy’s side and stomach, up to her breasts, giving one a firm grope in a circular motion.

“Oh...?” Mercy murmured breathlessly, a fuck-drunk smile on her lips. “What other plans did you have, liebling?” She returned the kiss tenderly, panting and draping one arm around Pharah’s neck and shoulders, clinging to the pilot as her knees wobbled beneath her. Her cock remained erect despite the intense climax, pulsing warmly and admirably rigid.

“I think we haven’t quite had enough fun with your friend, don’t you?” Pharah purred, nibbling Mercy’s lip, then shifting to nip at her ear, her dark eyes turning to Amèlie now. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you since you arrived, Widowmaker; making sure you didn’t get out of line. And the most challenging part of keeping my gaze upon you was watching the way that backside moved, the way your suit clings to it...” she grinned widely, chomping gently back down on her girlfriend’s ear but keeping her gaze on the sniper.

“I must admit, it is... so very distracting,” Angela confirmed, her breath steadying as a small smirk of her own crossed her lips.

Amèlie blinked a little, taking one step back, trying to clear her head, but it was... so difficult. She still hadn’t cum, and she wanted so desperately to, and the sight of those two stiff dicks ready for her was more tempting than she could resist. Her mind wandered back to recent memories, memories of Tracer burying her face in her backside. It had felt so invasive, so violating, and yet so... exhilarating, so pleasurable, only growing more intense when the brit had gotten so restless she’d forced her cock inside. Yes, she wanted this, even needed it. “Is... this the backside you were speaking of...?” Widowmaker cooed softly, biting her lower lip and turning, popping one hip to the side to show off the plump, firm globes of her backside, still snugly contained by the skintight fabric of her suit. She could feel another wedgie riding its way up her butt but she didn’t bother to fix it -- something about it felt exciting now, the knowledge of what she was showing off, and the knowledge that she’d soon have something much bigger “riding up” that particular area. “Which of you want to try it first, then?”

“Well, I think it would be... dishonorable...” Faheera began, taking Mercy’s hand and guiding her towards the small couch at the back of the infirmary where a patient might lie. “...Not to share. Don’t you agree?” She sat down slowly and spread her legs apart, showing off her massive brown cock, so stiff from grinding between Mercy’s buns without a second release, visibly shimmering with the spunk that was slathered along its length. Still holding Pharah’s hand, Mercy sat demurely on the lieutenant’s thigh, draping herself across her girlfriend’s chest and nuzzling into the egyptian’s full, bare chest, licking idly at one nipple.

Widowmaker’s eyes widened as she watched the two women bump their penises against each other, the two throbbing tips in close enough proximity that their slick glans slid and rubbed along one another gently... invitingly. Amèlie had taken one dick in her ass, and felt confident that she could do so again with little struggle, but two? That would be... challenging, to say the very least. But would that challenge have a fitting reward? Only one way to find out.

“If that’s what it takes to... buy your silence,” the sniper said lowly, peeling her suit away as she watched the two lovers snuggle suggestively, Mercy’s hand wound around her girlfriend’s side to fondle one breast. She’d stick with the blackmail excuse for now in a last-ditch attempt to hide her own excitement -- even if a big part of her was afraid this would hurt, a far bigger part couldn’t wait.

Stepping out of her boots and tossing away the shriveled husk of her suit, Widowmaker walked slowly towards the pair, hips swaying, heart racing. The two other women kissed each other gently before turning their attention back to Amèlie, the french girl slowly turning again to show off the unreasonably sumptuous globes of her backside, swaying as she lowered herself down into Pharah’s lap from the other side, leaning forward slightly so that both girls could admire the way she gently rocked her ass up along the officer’s cock. She pressed back harder, biting her lip, sliding her butt up along the massive length to steal a bit of its lubricant, sliding it along the smooth cleft of her ass. “Was this what you wanted?”

“Yes,” Pharah whispered, keeping one hand wrapped around Mercy’s waist while the other caressed slowly down along Amèlie’s hip, tracing her shape as she felt that smooth rear rock up against her -- but Widowmaker was not content for mere grinding, not now, and she wasted little time in lifting her ass up and pressing back downwards, fitting the delicate lilac pucker of her anus against the glossy crown of Pharah’s rod. She inhaled, her back arching a little, and then pushed down against the massive shaft, feeling the huge thing press past her eager, creamy entrance and inside, making its way several inches deep before Amèlie had to pause and reassess.

“You’re... mmrmmmm... bigger, than Tracer,” she hissed quietly, half in apprehension and half in appreciation, her back hole squeezing like a vice around the massive invader. “A -- nnnngh -- lot bigger.”

“You’re too kind,” Pharah cooed, taking a handful of Widowmaker’s asscheek and giving it a firm squeeze, gasping as she felt the firm, ripe flesh squish out around her fingers even as the sniper’s asshole sunk down around her dick. “I pray you’ve saved room for dessert, though.”

“Didn’t forget me, did you?” Mercy whispered, sitting up a little and nibbling at Amèlie’s ear, shifting her positioning a bit to crowd in on the assassin, tilting to kiss her lips gently. “Lean back a little, and we can really test your limits. Just think of it as a medical experiment.” The blonde grinned, lightly shoving Widowmaker by the shoulders until she was laying back against Pharah, her head against the soldier’s full chest like a pillow. The blue-skinned vixen let out a sharp gasp as she slipped a little deeper, her backside flexing and relaxing to try to take that massive cock farther inside, nowhere near ready for the second invader that was already prodding wetly against the smooth blue ring of her stretched asshole.

“W-wait, you... nnngh...” Amèlie groaned, gritting her teeth and spreading her long, smooth legs apart now, her own cock laying against her stomach as she mounted Pharah. A long, tense groan wheezed past her clenched lips as Mercy continued to push forward, not waiting for that slick blue hole to get properly worked out before adding her own cock to the mix. She prodded and shoved, grinding the underside of her dick against the base of Pharah’s as she tried to join her girlfriend, smearing more cum around that stretched hole she was trying so hard to double-stuff.

“NNn... tight... but I think I can-- ah!” the doctor gasped, using her hand to forcefully shove her cock into Widowmaker’s ass. Once she made it past the initial (if insistent) resistance of the sniper’s smooth, glistening anal ring, it was comparatively smooth sailing -- she slid in alongside Faheera’s shaft, feeling the slick, throbbing rod of meat pulse and flex against her own as she joined it.

Sliding and squelching sounds emanated from Widowmaker’s back entrance as those two thick shafts vied for position inside of it, her inner muscles alternating between working to clamp them both into place, and trying to force them both out. Both attempts ended in blissful failure, and Amèlie found herself letting out a long, low croon, her teeth still clenched as she felt both of the Overwatch agents begin to rock and thrust inside of her. Just having two dicks remaining stationary in her ass was difficult enough, but the way they moved -- pumping lustfully back and forth, sliding hotly along each others slick shafts even as they rammed into Widowmaker’s anus -- was more than she’d bargained for by a long shot. “...M-merde...” the assassin stammered, her legs splayed awkwardly and wobbling when Mercy or Pharah would thrust their hips forward, already starting to pick up speed. “Not so... rrgrhh... n-not so fast....”

“Now now,” Mercy cooed, pressing forward so that her tits could squish against Widowmaker’s. “I’m sure I have a few lollipops waiting behind ze counter when we’re finished. Would that make you feel better?”

“...Nnnghhh...” Widowmaker growled in response, though a lollipop likely would be a welcome distraction from the sore ass she was certain to have after this. She felt so unbearably full, able to feel the tension in her stomach when both women would thrust forward at the same time. This might be easier if Pharah wasn’t so big, but alas, that wasn’t the case... though the stretched, stuffed sensation was a reward of its own. As the speed picked up she felt her dick throbbing against her stomach, bobbing with stiffness as those two fat cocks rammed into her ass again and again, sawing against the tender button of her prostate -- until Mercy shifted her positioning a bit more, leaning across Amèlie’s shoulder to ravenously kiss her lover and altering the trajectory of her thrusts. It took only a few wild thrusts of the slick, spongy crown of her girlcock slamming head-on into that sensitive button before panting and moaning escalated to a crazed scream of release from Widowmaker.

“Eeeaahhh... merde... merdemerdemerdemerdemerdennffffffhhhh!!”  the sniper shrieked, her body convulsing in a series of arching twitches, toes curling tightly as she came, her free-floating girlcock flexing with carnal joy before unloading its contents on Amèlie’s smooth lilac skin, strand after strand of hot cream jetting out of the tip of her cock to lace itself across Widowmaker’s face and chest, coating her perky breasts and forcing her to close one eye to avoid the shot.

“My, look how much,” Pharah cooed, breaking her messy kissing with Mercy to lick along the side of Widowmaker’s face, tasting the sticky goo. “See? All of that complaining, and look at how hard you came.”

“Sh-shut up,” Amèlie murmured, panting and squirming, her hips rocking of her own accord to keep rolling her butt back and forth on the two cocks impaling her. “Just cum and we can--”

“Oh, sweetheart, we both came already, remember?” Angela grinned, nipping at the blue-skinned girl’s lower lip and thrusting forward hard, burying herself in deep for a long moment. “We still have a bit of steam left in us before we fill you up.” Despite her building excitement, Mercy couldn’t help but stifle a little giggle -- maybe she wasn’t the best at talking dirty, but it was so exciting to be this naughty. She’d have to “share” with Pharah more often.

“Mercy, can you grab her other leg?” Pharah piped up, mimicking the other woman by driving her cock upwards, corking it as deeply as it would go before starting to sit up, lifting Widowmaker along with her. “Our little friend seemed to like that angle, so let’s give it to her, yes?” Pulling herself entirely off of the couch, the egyptian positioned herself at Amèlie’s side, holding up one leg by the knee while Mercy grabbed the other and stood herself. Now both on either side of the assassin, the couple squished their bodies in around her, creating a snug little blue sandwich between their naked, sweat-slick figures -- and keeping both cocks buried in Widowmaker’s stuffed, twitching asshole.

Her legs dangling and her cum-slick tits jiggling with each merciless (heh) thrust into her ass, Widowmaker ceased any attempt to make any legible sound. Instead, a long, uninterrupted, drooling string of french curses and breathless cries escaped her as she was pinned and fucked, her cock bobbing in circles as those two slick shafts rammed into her, the squelching sound of her violated ass now easily eclipsed by the lustful moans of Mercy and Pharah -- and of course, the hoarse wails coming from Amèlie herself.

It seemed to go on and on, hammered from both ends like a pair of wet, fleshy pistons drilling her ass, reshaping it, conditioning it. Her arms draped back around the two women, clinging around their shoulders to keep herself steady in midair, gasping out numbly as she was relentlessly pounded. As much as she’d enjoyed getting fucked by Tracer, and as concerned as she’d been about taking both women in her bottom at once, this was better. It was incredible.

Widowmaker spasmed again, trembling as another climax rocked through her, her dick not even needing to be touched to unleash another stream of spunk, making even more of a mess of herself. She came again, and again, eyes rolling back into her head, tongue lolling past her open sapphire lips before Angela and Faheera finally reached their own second zenith. In moments Amèlie’s already-overfilled asshole was filled even more as blast upon blast of hot, burbling jizz shot into it, filling her bowels while the excess leaked out of her stretched entrance. A pair of lips found the assassin’s and she was kissed hungrily, only to be passed to the other woman and hungrily kissed again before the two lovers shared an embrace of their own, still joined in the tight, convulsing tunnel of Widowmaker’s rectum.

“So, I... guess a check-up will have to wait, right?” the soft accented voice of Symmetra jarred Amèlie out of her cum-drunk reverie, her eyes flickering back open to see the woman standing in the entryway to the infirmary, a notable tent pitched in the front of her sky-blue tabard. “That’s... um. That’s okay. I can come back later.”

“Well, so much for our secret, ja?” Mercy whispered, giggling softly as the indian woman scurried out of the room. Reaching down to lightly trace her fingers along Widowmaker’s weakly-pulsating girldick, she added: “Welcome to Overwatch, Widowmaker.”