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McCree should not get a boner from listening to Ana bitch Lúcio and Hana out but here he is, standing just around the corner with his hat pulled deep into his face, looking like he is just a regular cool cowboy while the leg he has up and braced against the wall behind him is just there to keep others from noticing the fat erection he is sporting.

Ana’s voice is not quite the same it had been a few decades ago. It’s more scratchy and a bit deeper, and absolutely perfect if you asked McCree whose ears are burning as his cock pulsing slow and deliciously.

“You’re getting the whole place dirty! Honestly! You’re no little kids anymore!”

He bites his bottom lip and tightens his arms across his chest so he won’t be tempted to reach down and squeeze his cock when Ana and the two kids are right around the corner. They murmur something suitably contrite, and Jesse can feel his breath hitch and cold rushing through his body when Ana suddenly rounds the corner and is right there next to him.

Sweat is prickling beneath his armpits as she looks him up and down and her mouth pulls into an unimpressed moue of distaste.

“McCree. Get your foot off the wall. I swear to God I am surrounded by toddlers. Did nobody teach you any manners? No scratch that, I know for a fact that I did!”

McCree lowers his leg slowly, staring at her from beneath the brim of his hat with slightly watery eyes as her tirade ricochets through his body.

He is a good head taller than this little old lady but he stands there obediently letting her tell him off while he is sporting an erection hard enough to hammer nails. He nods at the appropriate moments but is not really paying attention to what Ana is telling him because all he can do is wonder what it would take to make her put him over her knee.

And then she is suddenly gone with a glare and a huff, leaving Jesse standing there like a schoolboy, scolded yet ready to shoot his load at a moment’s notice.

He does not know how he manages to make his way back into his rooms without being seen. Or maybe he has been seen but has been too deep in his head to notice the shocked stares of his teammates as they notice the fat erection that is reaching down one of his pants legs.

Maybe he’ll get a call from Winston in just a little bit where the gorilla will fumble through telling him off, but he’ll not be as good as Ana has been. Not nearly as good.

Jesse impatiently kicks his clothes off. He is sweaty and his skin is prickling all over. When he gets his hand around his cock it is feverishly hot, the fat vein along the underside pulsing against his fingers, and when he pulls back on the foreskin it opens up to let out a deluge of pre-cum that had gathered in it and is now making a mess against his knuckles and sheets.

He is clenching his eyes shut. Ana’s voice is still ringing in his ears, but the more he focuses on it the more it begins to warp. It becomes a bit higher and less scratchy. Younger.

The voice she’s had when the world hadn’t gone down to shit yet; when Gabriel and Jack had still been an invincible team at the top of Overwatch and Jesse had been a runt they’ve dragged in kicking and screaming out of the Gorge.

He’s been a bit slimmer back then… a colt that they needed to train up into a stallion; and goddamn if they didn’t do that. Gabe most of all, of course, but Ana… God… those were the really memorable ones.

When she got right into his face, digging her finger into his chest and cussing him out until he was babbling apologies over and over again.

And then there was that time he really fucked shit up and he was sure she would straight up kill him and be done with it, but did something that was so so so much better.

It’s sick, really; he knows it’s not normal to get this hot; this… this needy even after years of the actual event, but here he is:

Lying back on his back as he thinks about the time when his crush on Ana had been so huge and obvious that he’s constantly gotten shit from the other recruits, and he’s fucked up bad but still went into her office with a slight boner that he prayed to all deities wouldn’t be spotted by her.

His cock is pulsing in his grip as he slowly fucks into his fist while thinking about that time he got called into her office and didn’t know whether to piss himself or just come on the spot. Even now he hasn’t quite figured out which would be worse to do right in front of one of the commanding officers.

Jesse folds one arm behind his head and stares down his hairy torso to the cock in his hand. His cheeks feel very hot, gently pulsing in time with his quick heart beat as he uses his thumb to drag his foreskin down and expose the shiny tip to the relatively cool air of the room.

Everything is wet and a bit sticky, and he’ll have to shower later because he’ll so obviously stink of cock and cum when he’s done, there is no way the others won’t pick up on it.

In his head he is replaying the moment of him stepping into her office, his half-hard cock awkwardly hidden in slightly baggy workout pants. A violation in and off itself standing in front of her like this, but it would be worse if she saw how excited he got just from being here.

He can’t remember what exactly she had said, but he remembers the tone of her voice and the angry slant of her mouth. Her dark skin had been glowing with an angry flush as she braced herself with both arms on her desk, leaning in like she really wants to bite his head off.

All the while this big oaf of a cowboy is standing there and staring at her, his dark eyes a bit glassy, maybe even drunk looking as he hunches his shoulders forward so his shirt won’t drag across his sensitive nipples and make the situation worse.

But of course his posture had made it worse in and off itself. There had been nothing that Jesse could have done, really; he’d been caught between a rock and a hard place, no matter what he did he would have had to pay for it, and, looking back on it now with his big ruddy dick in his fist and his slightly fatty belly jiggling as he tenses his muscles and fucks up into the tight tunnel…

...now he thinks he enjoyed it. A lot. Practically being given no chance; the victim of this angry little lady that knows a thousand ways to kill a big guy like him.

And then it had happened.

Then it had finally happened, and Jesse can’t remember what she had said or when she even had stepped around her desk but one moment she was screaming at him from behind it, looking like she was about to claw his face off, and the next she was in one of the visitor chairs in front of it and dragging Jesse down with an impossibly hard grip on his long hair.

The memory has him bare his teeth at the room, face pulled into a rictus of lust as his cock spits out a thick string of pre-cum, hairy balls tight and almost aching as they pulse.

He’d been across her knees in an instant, her mean little hand dragging down his workout pants just to realize that he is not wearing any underwear beneath.

“You are disgusting slut, McCree.”

It’s the only thing that he remembers her saying. He still has it ringing in his ears, clear and with a perfect cadence. He thinks of it usually when he jerks off and nobody is there. About the slight disgust in Captain Amari’s voice as she was presented with McCree’s hairy ass when she had expected at least some gaudy or stained boxer shorts to be unearthed.

Jesse now lifts his knees, bracing his heels against the edge of the mattress he is lounging on so he can spread his thighs and feel the air of the room brushing against his furry hole just like it had some twenty years ago when he’s been draped across this little lady’s lap.

She’d said more about his way to dress and lack of manners and general attitude. She’d rained down on him what she had been thinking all along while her hand had come down in sharp, mean slaps that had him gasp and sob, body strung tight and hands balled into big fists, trying so damn hard not to come against the side of her thigh because he is sure she would have castrated him right then and there.

He is still sure about that one.

His thighs are trembling, teeth grit as he fucks into his fist and remembers how the slaps had echoed; how good it had felt being told off by her. How sharp the burn had been as she put her all into making him regret ever being born.

He wonders if Ana still remembers or if she put it out of her head the moment he’s walked out of her office with his pants back in place and his ass glowing from her incessant slaps.

Or maybe she, too, spends nights in her room, thinking about the big stinky recruit she had disciplined all those years ago.

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