Patreon Compilation – Fic#214 – Soldier76/Reinhardt – voyeurism/exhibitionism; fucked dumb – Mile High Club

Soldier76/Reinhardt – Reinhardt fucks Jack absolutely senseless on their way back from a mission. It's as easy as that.

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“Today was a wonderful fight! Wouldn’t you say so too, my friend?!”

Reinhardt’s voice booms right next to Jack’s ear but he can’t focus on what he’s saying. Not a single damn word penetrates the fog in his head; certainly not in the way that Reinhardt’s cock is penetrating his hole.

He knew he was out of shape but this is utterly… it is utterly ridiculous. It feels like Reinhardt is fisting him, his cock lodged inside him hot and way too damn big. He’s got no idea how he even managed to cram that thing inside him in the first place… everything that has led up to this is feeling like a fever dream.

Reinhardt can get under your skin. Or at least under Jack’s skin. His exuberant Golden Retriever nature just sweeps one up and makes it nigh impossible to say no, even when he is squeezing his beercan of a cock into what feels like a way too small orifice…

Not that he could be mad at him even if he wanted. He doesn’t have capacity for anything at all other than to try and keep breathing while it feels like a cock is pressing up against his lungs. Physically impossible, of course, but there’s not much logic reigning right now in his overheating skull.

Reinhardt uses him like a cock sleeve which is an experience in and off itself. Jack isn’t exactly a small man. The last time he got used like this, he’s pretty sure he was with Gabriel… but even he wouldn’t have been able to grab his sides and lift him up like he weighs nothing so his clenching, wet insides could drag along the mammoth cock.

Reinhardt is chuckling. Jack doesn’t know what’s so damn funny but he can feel the vibrations of his laughter wandering through him and vibrating somehow to the very tip of his own dick. God fuck-

“Fuck!” he says in a heartfelt whisper. He lets his head sink back against Reinhardt’s shoulder and lifts his arms to curl them around the other’s neck. He’s so damn huge, Jack has to reach up for that.

“Ahaaa, you enjoy yourself! Wonderful, wonderful! You feel quite perfect yourself, if you don’t mind me saying! A tight little snatch that you have there, Jack!” He laughs again. Jack has never been fucked by someone who insists to act like a mall Santa and laugh the whole way through as he’s fucking him.

It’s a special kind of torture. Reinhardt isn’t thrusting, he’s just moving him up and down and forcing him to set on his massive thighs, his cock as deep as it will go. Jack can feel his eyes rolling up into his head. He’s… he’s too old for this. He certainly is too old to get his insides rearranged by a mammoth cock that is so fat he is honestly worrying about his sphincter muscles. He’s getting destroyed in the slowest, grandfatherly way possible.

Part of him tries to tell him that he doesn’t deserve any of this… but it’s difficult to listen to it when all he can think about is dick, dick, dick. He tries to reach for his own cock, misses it two times, then just holds on to Reinhardt’s thickly muscled forearms.

His chin keeps sinking against his chest, gaze fixed on the way his belly bulges whenever he is being sat down on the massive dick spreading him open. It looks alien and worrisome but the endorphins rushing through his body are softening everything into a dull, pleasing sensation of yes. More.

Has he been the one asking Reinhardt to do this? Or has Reinhardt just grabbed him and pulled his pants down to his knees, half-hobbling him and too lazy to peel him much out of his clothes? Maybe the latter… or maybe the former? Jack has just about managed to peel off his combat gear, rucking his shirt up into his armpits. He’s glad about it now; otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to see all the ways in which Reinhardt is fucking him up… on the plane… on their way back from a mission… with Lúcio sitting in the cockpit and not minding one bit apparently, that he is fighting against prolapsing because Reinhardt’s cock is so fat and his insides are clinging so desperately on to it whenever it pulls out of him in a slow, mind-numbing slide.

He doesn’t fight it when Reinhardt stands with him held securely in front. Jack barely even has any reign over his own damn limbs to fight with in the first place. Whenever he tries to move them, he just flails awkwardly. His spine has been replaced by a throbbing, arm-sized cock.

“Yooo you guys don’t have much time for those standing up shenanigans! We’re gonna start landing in fifteen minutes!”

“I don’t think he’ll last that long!” Reinhardt booms back good naturedly. Of course he wouldn’t feel awkward for fucking Jack in broad daylight. Not that any of them care, hopped up on adrenaline from the last fight.

Jack somehow manages to take a hold of the seat’s backrest shortly before Reinhardt starts to finally move without bouncing Jack on his cock like a toy.

Jack’s eyes roll into his head, his legs prickling distractingly right down to the very tips of his toes. He can’t help clenching down on Reinhardt even though he knows he shouldn’t. He should just stay nice and relaxed while his intestines are straightened out and the massive crown knocks up against his goddamn stomach.

It feels about exactly how he always imagined fucking a horse must feel like. His mouth keeps hanging open because his brain is pretty much sold on the fact that the long dick must start pushing up through his throat sometime soon.

He feels bloated with dick… and Reinhardt is only getting faster and more enthusiastic. He wants to make certain that they come before they have to sit back down.

Jack can feel the swing of his testicles between his trembling, prickling thighs. They touch his own every now and then. He’s never tried a side-by-side comparison of their junk but he is absolutely sure that he will be humbled by the result.

He’s not looking for that. But he also kind of wants to stuff his face against Reinhardt’s breeder balls and just drown all his sorrows into getting smothered by the loose skin of his large hangers.

Weird how he thinks of Reinhardt as an old man but doesn’t about himself… and goddamn he is old. So very, very old… but apparently not too old to absolutely thrive as he is getting dicked down, nerve endings alight with the pleasure of being spread impossibly wide on a dick.

He hadn’t even noticed how long he went without a good filling… months now. Maybe years? He doesn’t know anymore. He’s got his shirt clenched between his teeth, trying to keep his groans of pleasure down. They spill forth anyway.

Jack is probably making a fool out of himself in front of Lúcio; a nasty old man moaning like a whore as he gets fucked like one…

Reinhardt has started petting his back; nice slow strokes of his warm palm up and down Jack’s spine in time with his slow, earth-shaking thrusts. Jack relaxes almost against his will. His whole body is on fire. The gravity only seems to help Reinhardt’s cock to push down against his stomach and distend it. He can’t see it now but he can feel it all the more.

His brain is cooking in his skull, his cock aching with how hard it is. It feels like an overstuffed sausage. He feels like one; his whole body is… tight like his skin is going to split open like a balloon if Reinhardt pushed just that little bit harder.

What a… what a p-pathetic old man… g-getting off on being fucked like a slut-

“Oh yes, you are. You feel so good on my cock, old friend! I could get used to fucking you every day… maybe even twice? Hahaha!”

Jack’s head is going to split. Had he said any of that out loud? Embarrassed heat washes through him… in the end it is that that pushes him over the edge, surprisingly enough. He claws at the backrest of the seat, Lúcio’s voice garbled in his ears while he pumps out his load onto the floor and what feels like his whole body clenches around Reinhardt’s meaty dick.

Tears of overstimulation sting his eyes. He can’t breathe. His muscles are not his own anymore; all that is keeping him somewhat on his feet is the dick lodged along his spine.

He’s never felt an orgasm this cathartic, this… profound. It feels like a religious experience. Like he has to worship Reinhardt in the hopes of being used as his cocksleeve again sometime soon.

He can just hope he will be able to somewhat pull his pants back up before the others see him in his orgasm-dumb disgrace.