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Soldier/Torbjörn – rimming; body worship; sweat kink; hair kink – Jack is an old hungry fuck and just... he just loves Torbjörn's stocky body. Especially when it's nice and hairy and sweaty.

Part 1 (AO3 Link)

Part 2 (This Part)

Part 3 (Patreon Link)

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Torbjörn only briefly looks up when seeing Jack enter his workshop. He grunts and jerks his head to let his visor slide back down. He’s working on some welding just now, the smell of it warm in the air but not uncomfortable.

“You always come when I got work to do. Starting to think you’re a glutton for punishment.”

Jack licks his lips. He can’t deny it, not really. His gaze is already fixated on the wet fur under Torbjörn’s arms whenever he moves them enough to air out his pits. He comes a little closer but Torbjörn starts to talk again. “I gotta finish this. If you can get it without disturbing me, be my guest.”

Torbjörn shuffles on the stool he’s sitting on, sticking his ass out over the edge of it. “Do your worst, Jack.”

The visor in front of his face makes him sound grim; like it is a chore to get his ass eaten by Jack. Or anybody. Jack’s sure Ingrid fucks her husband regularly with her strap-on but he’s not so certain about whether she also enjoys sticking her tongue up his ass as much as Jack is.

He shuffles closer toward Torbjörn, feeling unhinged. Sweat is breaking out all over his body. It’s hot in the workshop and he realizes that he hasn’t even said a word to the other. It’s not needed after the thoroughly humiliating message he sent him early in the morning, begging him to ask his wife whether he could come and play with him again. The last time just stuck with him. It’s like he’s an addict who finally got his fix.

He’s had to go so long without that finally stuffing his face in Torbjörn’s hairy, sweaty asscrack had been… wow. It had been an epiphany. He’s been thinking about it ever since, watching Torbjörn from the shadows like the old creep that he is, getting eager little hard-ons just from seeing him move his stocky, muscular body.

He’s hooked. And he almost whispers a little ‘thank you’ when he sees that there’s a flap in the back of Torbjörn’s overalls, allowing for an easy access of his ass.

Jack kneels down and pops open the buttons holding the fabric in place. His mouth waters instantly when it falls down and reveals a generous square of Torbjörn’s ass. God, for such a short fellow he really has a nice fat ass.

Torbjörn grunts again, the sound of his welding stopping as he shifts once more.

“Damn that’s a weird feeling,” Jack hears him mutter. After a moment he shifts even more, awkwardly fiddling with his crotch until his fat breeder balls suddenly slide into view. It only takes a little bit of help from Jack to have them dangling there as well, covered in wiry golden hairs and ready to be worshiped just like the sweaty ass presented to him.

He’s not too sure about how comfortable the position is but he’s definitely sure that Torbjörn would let him know if he doesn’t want to sit a certain way, so he holds his peace and just… digs in.

Jack grabs Torbjörn’s cheeks with both hands and slowly pulls them apart. True to his word, he’s nice and sweaty. The curling fur in his crack is dark with moisture and clinging together. If anything, there is even more than last time. He can’t even properly see Torbjörn’s hole and has to unearth it with his fingers brushing the dark blond hairs aside.

His heart pounds his blood down to his dick so fast, Jack feels a little faint. He reaches down and opens up his fly to at least let his cock breathe. He can feel his heartbeat in the tip as it starts to engorge. Last time he’s gotten hard this fast… well, he can barely remember it to be honest.

He’s breathless without having begun his feast. Torbjörn doesn’t pay him any attention; he’s started up his work again, though Jack is eager to try and distract him from it. Despite the mechanic’s gruff warning, he’s pretty sure that he would love getting thoroughly debauched and pulled away from his workbench.

Jack gently cups his balls. They’re fat and heavy; a nice pair of hangers sitting perfectly in the palm of his hand. He leans in and digs his nose against the loose skin they’re pulling taut dangling like this, then gives each a nice wet kiss just to start things up. Whet his appetite for the main course.

God, fuck, he can see Torbjörn’s flushed rim winking at him from the corner of his eyes.