Lovemaking, Zenyatta remembers, has always been intense, near infectious; every wracking gasp seems to come from within his own chest, each spasm from his own servos, twitching in time to the pulse he can feel throbbing through Junkrat's cunt, harder and harder. Unadulterated physical intimacy.
Sometimes a partner's orgasm has been enough for Zenyatta to reach a peak of his own- but not this time. Even he cannot predict how just how quickly the pleasure mounts within Junkrat's body, and before he can even think to temper his touches the junker hits a messy climax.
His fingers grind, both literally and belatedly, to a somewhat bewildered halt.
"Goodness," he says, forgetting, for a moment, just how sensitive Junkrat's pride may well be, "you are sensitive."
Humming thoughtfully, he pushes up against the tire and touches Junkrat's cheek again, all affection; slickened fingers hook against his lip as he finds the pulse jumping in his throat. It leaves a glistening streak across his chin. "Your heart is still racing. Are you finished, Jamie?"
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Date: 2016-12-14 10:04 pm (UTC)Sometimes a partner's orgasm has been enough for Zenyatta to reach a peak of his own- but not this time. Even he cannot predict how just how quickly the pleasure mounts within Junkrat's body, and before he can even think to temper his touches the junker hits a messy climax.
His fingers grind, both literally and belatedly, to a somewhat bewildered halt.
"Goodness," he says, forgetting, for a moment, just how sensitive Junkrat's pride may well be, "you are sensitive."
Humming thoughtfully, he pushes up against the tire and touches Junkrat's cheek again, all affection; slickened fingers hook against his lip as he finds the pulse jumping in his throat. It leaves a glistening streak across his chin. "Your heart is still racing. Are you finished, Jamie?"
He doubts it.