Jesse McCree
It all started innocently enough really. Every active and willing Overwatch member would come in on their scheduled appointment times each week and I would do everything in my power to help them express themselves and open up. Easy. Whether it was through physical exercises, remedial massage, taking part in their favourite hobbies or even just sitting together and talking about what bothered them. I felt like it was working, I was making their lives perhaps a little less stressful and receiving their respect as a newcomer in return.
I was so wrong.
The ladies where a delight, truly.
Ana loved to sit and chat over a cup of perfectly brewed tea, she would tell me tales of her life, her daughter, her family and dreams outside of war and battle. It made me smile when she smiled.
Tracer loved to see me suffer, often challenging me to strenuous cardio workouts that had me wheezing (I'm a fit, muscular young man but damn!) and following it up with a deep muscle relaxing massage and joyful conversation.
Actually, massages seemed to be the most popular and common amongst my patients. A couple of weeks of physical therapy and massages had greatly improved the bodies and minds of everyone on the base (especially after harder missions); so it came as a shock when I found myself pinned to the sterile white medical bay wall, crying out for release...
Jesse McCree had been my patient for 3 weeks now, that's 3x 1 hour sessions all up. We did not interact off base, or on base outside of treatment. Which means I've only known this man 3 hours. Not enough time to learn all of someone's hobbies let alone jump into the sack, especially for someone like myself. It first happened when the cowboy had come into my office for his 4th appointment looking frazzled and tense, he requested a massage, so of course I was more then happy to oblige; I had done this task a few times today already. He shed his clothing eagerly, shamelessly removing his shirt and poncho while I buzzed around him to set up, averting my gaze politely; at first I wasn't even curious as to why he did not use the privacy screen provided to him. I was naive.
I had rolled up my sleeves, hung my lab coat up and was ready to proceed when the gunslinger began unbuckling his large belt slowly. My cheeks flared pink and I turned around apologetically as he kicked off his boots and let all of his bottom garments of clothing fall to the floor with a heavy 'clunk'. He smirked my way and chuckled, the same deep chuckle I would soon learn to be mischievous with sexual desire. He walked by me, stark naked (except for his hat!) his hand running over my shoulder and lay on the table. Ready.
I payed it no mind and got to work, I covered his behind with a towel and poured a generous amount of oil onto my hands. I heard his breath intake heavily as stray droplets slipped threw my fingers and landed cool against his hot back; the stray oil running down his toned muscles, filling in the divots of his lower spine before spilling onto the table below. I placed my hands on him and began to run slick, firm hands up the base of his spine to his neck. My thumbs ran in circles over the tight muscles of his shoulder blades before my fingers splay into a fan and run back down him, massaging in small circles along his sides. He groans and I bite back a delighted smile. I am pleased he is relaxed, I can feel his previous tension melting away.
"Darlin' you're pure torture..." he whispers thickly to me as I repeat my ministrations over his exposed flesh, my hands looking small in comparison to the vast expanse of back muscle.
"I appreciate the compliment, Jesse." I reply calmly as I rubbed. "I like to think I work well with my hands... it's a skill I worked hard to achieve, especially as a field medic." I repeat this process over and over until I feel satisfied with his bodies posture and muscle reaction to my touch; when I am I move onwards.
I shifted his towel upwards as I moved down and began kneading the back of one of his thighs. My thumbs cut through excess oil and run up the centre slowly before stopping just below the buttocks, from there my fingers caught the sides of the leg and began expertly making my way back down.
He moans this time, my hands falter for the briefest of seconds but I continue.
It does not take me long to thoroughly work out all of the tension on the back half of his tanned body, he does not moan again and I do not falter. I am calming when I run my hand down his shoulder and request in a low, friendly tone that he turn over so I may continue. He does so without hesitation and my cheeks go beet red as the privacy towel falls away to the floor and I am left staring at my patients fully erect, fully exposed penis.
"I..uhh, I'm sorry..here.." I go to reach for the fallen towel so that I might cover him and spare his embarrassment. But he stops me with a lightning quick snatch of my now oily arm with that powerful robotic limb of his he holds me still.
"No need Doc. I'm perfectly comfortable and relaxed right here." He stated calmly with a wink from under his tilled hat. I clear my throat awkwardly and nod. "So just keep doing ya thing, you're doing a great job chasing that stress away." He instructs with a chuckle before gliding my slick hand onto his chest and down to his navel. I swallow, my mouth dry.
Ok. An erection is a perfectly normal male response to a stimulated body, especially a relaxed one. Nature. Normal. Why was I blushing? Why won't he let me cover it?
I push these thoughts out of my mind as I continue with my standard professional massage technique as if nothing has happened. I run oily hands over his pectoral muscles before caressing his neck and collarbone. He groans happily as they then run straight down his slick abdominal muscles to rest and perform small circles just above his exposed pelvic area. He groans once more as I begin to repeat the process.
I am stopped however by him once more, this time both of his larger, strong hands have ahold of mine; ceasing my movement. I can not pull away.
I turn my whole neck to look back at him curiously, a piece of stray brown hair spilling over my naive eyes, only to find him smirking devilishly back at me.
"Why, you've found the problem area darlin'." He whispers to me, his voice is low and thick with something I do not recognise- it is husky, like the flu. I snap out of my thoughts as my hands start to be forcefully dragged downwards through the oil. "This here is where I've been keepin' most of my stress." He continues as he sits up throwing his legs effortlessly over the side of the table; all the while keeping my hands on a steady route downwards until I was holding his...well...his dick. I take a sharp intake of breath and look up at him once more, I am now standing between his knees, our faces too close. I bite my lip, face hot. His eyes are alight with hunger and his mouth was twisted into a playful smirk looking down at me. He began using my hands to touch himself and I look away shyly, biting my lip harder, awkwardly. I feel his fingers domineering over mine as they slide oily up and down his eager shaft slowly before he navigates the touch of one of my hands to the leaking head of his manhood. I still can not pull away from his iron grip as I am forced to play with him. My cheeks are burning.
"Jesse...I-" I had meant to tell him to stop, that I am his doctor and that this was very very wrong. I was cut short as he moaned deeply from my forced touch before he leant forward and consumed my mouth in a hungry kiss. He pressed forward, deepening the kiss and moaning into my mouth as he forces my hands to quicken their pace on him. My eyes widen in panic.
"Hmmpht! Jesse!" I struggled to pull my face away but I do, breaking the wet kiss in time to watch in horror as the hot blooded cowboy reaches his climax with a shuttering gasp. He ejaculates all over my hands and slightly on my waist and I feel dirty. He does not release me. I pull against him to no avail.
"Mr McCree!" I breath, face hot, my voice is uneven. "P-please! Let me go! I- I am your doctor! I have a responsibility to-"
He kisses me again, it is just as deep and hungry as before but I fight against it. I feel his teeth push hard against my lip and I gasp; he invades me with his tongue and I moan involuntary at the feeling. This forced feeling. He chuckles and stands upwards off of the massage table; he does not let my hands go free. We are still too close.
There is too much spit when he finally pulled away and I am left in his iron grasp breathing heavily and confused. He abruptly lets me go, my arms fall to my sides heavily, sticky and with the sickly feeling of warm fluid rapidly cooling. My breathing is uneven, I am shaking.
"Ya responsibility is to me darlin', you signed the forms too." He sang before taking his cowboy hat off and tossing it aside. I began to step backwards and attempt escape from him, but he grabs me effortlessly. As an experienced field doctor, a hundred thoughts began to fly by in an instant. I could try to fight him off I know, I have had the training- but like I said I am a doctor and I know I would not last 2 seconds against Gunslinger Jesse McCree. I could call or wave for help, but it would be useless- this area of the base is empty at this time of the day and this medical lab is shut for privacy reasons.
Gripping my arms he leans in close, his lips ghosting over mine as he speaks.
"Your job is to relieve my stress by any means I desire, ain't that right?" He added deeply before he leans in and forces the collar of my black shirt to one side, exposing my flushed pale neck him. He runs his tongue over me and I shudder at the feeling, his beard causing me to fidget. "Shame if you go back on your word now! I bet poor Dr. Ziegler would be mighty disappointed in you- heck she might even disbar you from the medical world all together."
My lip quivers at the thought and I moan unintentionally as he begins sucking on my sensitive areas expertly. He was right. I had promised Angela I would do anything to protect her friends and allies. To make Overwatch great again.
I HAD signed those documents rashly, my logic overtaken by my need for acceptance. I was bound to help these people...by any means. My face grows redder and I release a shaky breath. My mind is reeling, I can't think.
Fine. I steel my gaze and relax my muscles into his touch and he grunts approvingly, licking up to my ear, then to my jaw and then he is kissing me deeply once more. I will give him what he desires, he is the only one out of all of my patients who has requested this kind treatment. Sex was indeed a powerful stress reliever, used by many people it can be wonderful for blood pressure and the release of positive hormones into the body...
It will be my shameful secret. I can live with that.
I have barley enough time to register his lips leaving mine in favour of my neck once more before his large hands have started pulling at my pants roughly, loosening my belt buckle and tugging. I take the opportunity to take in another sharp breath, my sticky hands clinging helplessly onto his oily, naked shoulders- my legs are becoming increasingly weak under his touch, my body is hot and screaming. I am not used to this feeling, it feels natural...but foreign. Nervousness creeps into the pit of my stomach.
My pants (and briefs!) are yanked down my bare thighs roughly and they barley make it past my knees before Jesse sits backwards; pulling me down with him into his oily lap hungrily. I have only enough time to get one leg out of my pants! His hands explore me and I shutter, his oily fingers running under my black shirt caressing my sensitive skin, down my back and slowly down my thighs and buttocks as he kisses me.
"Darlin' I'm 'bout to relieve some serious stress..." he whispers lowly in my ear, running his tongue down my neck and sucking on my collar bone. I look away and bite my lip shyly. It is awkward sitting in his lap, I am still half dressed and the feeling of his erection pressing up against my behind makes my stomach drop in naive fear.
I am not used to this situation and I think he knows it, he is enjoying it.
"Ahh..." my breath hitches and I squeeze my eyes shut as his lips find my own once again and the feeling of an oily metal finger slips it's way inside of me. My grip on him tightens and I squirm, causing him to chuckle into my mouth and began to thrust this cold digit repeatedly inside, twisting and teasing. It is uncomfortable, cold and foreign but not painful; still, I can't help but tighten up.
"Shhhh, darlin', you gotta relax for me.." he mumbles into my lips and I nod slightly against his touch as he forces a second finger inside of me suddenly.
"Ahh!" I pull my mouth away from him suddenly, my forehead dropping to press against his oily shoulder as I grit my teeth in pain, sharp tears in my eyes. As he plays and stretches with me, his other hand finds my own half hard manhood and he begins to stroke me, to distract me. I cry out, my teeth find their way into his muscular shoulder and I bite down, he hisses through his kisses; his lips smirking. I taste blood, but I do not care.
"Ahh!"
He continues pumping me and fingering me expertly, my cries become louder and my stomach begins to coil. The pain and pleasure was too much and it wasn't long before I was crying out to him, a powerful orgasim the likes I have not experienced in a very long time racking my shaking, sweaty body. I writhe in his lap, my oily thighs gliding over his as I frantically push sweaty brown hair from my flashed face. When I come down I am all to aware that he is staring at me hungrily under lust clouded lashes. My clothes are wet, ruined, my breath is uneven and shallow, my hair is a sweaty disheveled brown mess; I am distracted. I did not even feel his third and final slick metal finger slip its way inside of me. He plays with me and I can't even find my voice enough to cry out, to moan, to do anything against him but mew submissively as he continues to kiss me in all the places that seem to drive my body crazy. He chuckles deeply when my hips start to move against his teasing hand and eagerly waiting penis, involuntarily grinding down on that bizarre but tempting feeling. The moment my body asks for something, it is taken away as he pulls himself out of me quickly and stand up from the massage table with a low rumbling snarl.
My weak arms scramble to find his neck for support when I am suddenly lifted into the air as he stands; his strong muscular arms hooking themselves under me. My legs wrap around his naked, oily waist instinctively so I do not fall and he moans.
"Mr. McCree I-
He kisses me again harshly, hungrily and my voice is silenced with a moan of my own as I cling helplessly to this lust mad cowboy. He begins to walk forwards until I feel my hot, wet clothed back press up against the cool hard surface of the medical bay wall. He readjusts his hold on me to one arm like I weigh nothing before he grabs his own stiff manhood and begins guiding it inside of me with urgency. I squeak and he groans lowly and hotly into our kiss as his pushes past that tight, oily ring of muscle and sheaths himself completely inside me.
"Ahh..!" I break away from him and moan, my lungs screaming, burning for air, nails gripping his bare shoulders. He does not wait, he begins to thrust upwards into me, long powerful snaps of his hips causing me to see stars. He groans into me, sucking hard onto my sweaty neck- bruising the pale flesh with delight.
"Ahhh...ahh!" My hands slip from his slick shoulders and begin to search his back for something, anything to grasp in an attempt to keep myself from drowning in the pleasure.
"P-please...please...J-Jesse...I-
I struggle to form words, my brain can not create a full sentence and I am left begging for him as white dots of pleasure fill my eyes and overlord my senses with each thrust. "Pl-please...ahh!"
I heard him chuckle lowly.
"Come on doc." He whispers hotly into my throat, his lips finding my jaw. He growls. "Quit torturin' yaself..." He pushes out of me and thrusts back in hard, causing me to cry out to him, throwing my head backwards against the wall, my toes curling. "Ya barely holding on..." he teases me, I feel his mouth twist into a smirk again me and I grip his back harder, breathing hard- face sweaty and flushed.
He begins to thrust faster, harder. Moans filling the air around us, building.
"O-oh god Jesse Ahh!"
I climax around him, crying out his name one again as my orgasim rakes across my body like a tsunami of electric pleasure. My nails scrape down his back, no doubt creating long irritated lines. My throat is raw and my head falls to his shoulder, my breath is hard and uneven as I fight to keep my brain oxygenated. Sweat drips down my hair and brow, my face and body are hot and flushed- my thigh muscles are spazzing uncontrollably, arms weak.
He groans as I tighten around him and continues to thrust into me rapidly, his grip on my legs tightening enough to cause pain as my body sends him falling over the edge shortly after me. His long hard thrusts suddenly start to become erratic and desperate. His breath is laboured and heavy as his sweaty head drops to my shoulder and he begins to kiss my bruised neck. I feel him ejaculate inside and my breath hitches at the hot intrusion, my hands traveling up his back to his neck, to twist into his sweaty brown hair as he leans back and takes my mouth into his once more.
He kisses me deeply, slowly as his thrusts begin to slow; his tongue exploring me deeply and I moan as his hips finally come to a stop. My eyes are still shut as he pulls himself out of me, my cheeks are red and I can not bring myself to look at him. I am embarrassed, shy. He chuckles.
"Thanks Darlin', but looks like my appointment's over." He whispers hotly into my ear as he lets me go to stand on my own. He turns away from me and begins to pick up his clothes and redress. He does not look at me as he does so.
My legs are shaking under my own weight, the muscles are sore and jello like in consistency and any moment I know I will collapse. I grab onto the wall for support, my face screwing up as I feel his seed run down my leg uncomfortably. I try not to look weak or sore. I am.
"I feel mighty relaxed Doc." He states casually as he places his hat back on as a finishing touch to his outfit. "I couldn't even spell the word 'stress' if I wanted to right now!" He walks over to me and leans in close, placing on hand on the wall near my head. His voice is low and husky, his eyes intense and burning down at me. "I'll see ya next week, Doctor Winters."
I am proud to say that I did hold his steel gaze in that moment, my voice did not waver and I did stand on my own as I replied professionally.
"Thank you Mr. McCree. Have a lovely day, I will see you next week for your next appointment."
And he left.
I collapsed to the ground, my legs no longer capable of holding me upright.
I had no idea how out of hand this was going to become...
...
Yay! I'm sorry if it's bad!