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LOVERWATCH - The Doctor is in (Love)	By : Robbie_Staadtal Category: -Misc Video Games/RPGs > Het - Male/Female Views: 3566 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Overwatch and all its characters are © Blizzard. This story is free to download, read and share. It shouldn’t be distributed for any commercial purpose. I don’t make, nor intend to make, any money for its creation or distribution.

Chapter List
- 1-The Doctor is in (Love)
- 1
These events took place on a remote location, 2 months before the Recall.

The sky was slowly being covered in the crimson shroud of the sunset, painting the landscape red, and outlining the silhouette of a brand new building. A simple tarpaulin sheet laid on its rooftop served as an impromptu tablecloth for a couple of friends sharing dinner. Several containers were spread on the floor, completely empty except for the occasional crumb or leftover of their previous contents: potato salad, salmon rolls, pungent cheese and spicy sausage. One of the figures, a sweaty stout short man with a stocky bionic arm and a full beard, and wearing a blue boilersuit and work boots, opened a bottle of golden bubbly liquid and filled two plastic cups with the sweet-smelling spirit.
“This is genuine Kopparberg pear cider,” he said with a thick accent. “It's not as refined as German wine, but it does one good after a long day at work.”
“Thanks,” answered his well-mannered companion. She was a blonde woman, considerably taller than him, with milky white skin and elegant features. She also looked like she had been busy during the day, and was wearing a worn white blouse tucked inside a pair of old jeans and comfortable-looking sneakers. “Let's have a toast,” she added, raising the cup. The man followed her lead. “To a good man, a better friend and an incredible builder.”
The man laughed out loud and carefully hit her cup with his.
“To a true angel, who never stops trying to heal the world.”
They drank the cider and laughed again. The pale cheeks of the woman immediately started to glow red, although not even her was sure if it had been the alcohol or the compliment what had made her blush.
“Es schmeckt gut, Torbjörn,” she said, quickly finishing her cup and asking for more liquor with a gesture. “But, seriously, thanks. If not for you, building this clinic would have taken us weeks, even with everyone in the town helping,” she paused to sip from her refilled cup, “but we've done it in only three days. It's a miracle.”
The dwarfish man finished his second drink and briefly contemplated going for the third before closing the bottle with the cork. He scratched his chin with the multi-tool that took the place of a hand in his left artificial arm.
“That's what friends are for, sweet Mercy,” he said. “Besides, it feels good creating something intended to heal people for a change. Although I really miss travelling the world with the gang, kicking asses playing hero.”
“Call me Angela, please,” she asked, finishing her second cup and surreptitiously resting her hand over the engineer’s right hand. Despite the obvious difference in height, the short man's hand was almost twice as big as hers. His palm was unusually wide and his wrist and fingers were incredibly thick and robust. His skin was rough like leather compared with the silk-like smoothness of hers. Both seemed to be suddenly embarrassed by the sudden contact, but neither did anything to avoid it. The woman looked at the landscape and continued with the conversation. “I also miss many things about our time in Overwatch,” she explained, smiling. “I missed helping people, and I still I miss Winston, Tracer and the rest of the family.” She intertwined the fingers of her hand with the engineer’s. It took some effort, due to the difference in proportions, but Torbjörn offered no resistance. “And I missed you...”
The man made a very evident swallowing noise and a bright red bloom filled his hair-covered cheeks. He suddenly developed a keen interest on the forest-filled landscape and looked away.
“Err. Thanks Mer... Angela,” he mumbled. “I-I. My. I have very good memories of my time with you. All of you, I mean. You were always...”
“Tor,” she interrupted. “Please. I never realised it back then. We were too busy. And now we're probably too old...”
“Oh, I'm old!” he nervously interjected. “I'm really old.”
“But I think this is important,” she calmly continued. “It's important that you know...”
“I could be your fa...” he started to protest.
“I love you.” The man immediately shut his mouth close, while the woman started looking intently at his only eye, tightening the grip on his hand. “Of all people I missed, of all the things I felt I needed to be truly happy, I always ended up thinking of you.” Her eyes started tearing up, but she didn't stop talking. “You were always there for us, protecting us, working hard for everyone’s sake.”
She took his hand and rested it on her reasonably abundant bosom. Torbjörn was able to feel her strong heartbeat and the suppleness of her breasts through the white fabric of her blouse, and soon his own heart started to race, reddening his features and dutifully sending his blood towards his privates, a sensation he had only seldom experienced during the last few years.
“Well, I... You...” The otherwise cool and collected Swedish seemed completely unable to find the proper words to say. He was confused, struggling to understand the situation and his own feelings about his friend's confession. Mercy, too emotional to talk further, kept holding his hand, softly kissing his toughened knuckles. An almost forgotten fire had definitely been reignited in Torbjörn's loins, but he tried to fight the surging emotion. “Gode Gud! Angela, I really like you, I do! But I'm old enough to be your father, and I’m missing quite a few important pieces!” he added, pointing to the patch covering his missing eye. “You deserve someone better, someone…”
“I don't care about that,” she explained, staring intently at him with her beautiful blue eyes. “I don't mind what you are missing, nor how old you are. Ich liebe dich. I love you. But if you don't feel the same...” Despite her best efforts to contain them, a trail of tears had started to flow down her cheeks.
“It's not that!” he interrupted, feeling a pang of pain in his chest when he saw her cry. He awkwardly tried to pat her shoulder with his left arm, but his otherwise useful prosthesis was not designed for comforting people. “I. I-it's just too sudden. I never thought you would... I always saw you as too precious, too good for any of us, especially for me. You always were the best of us. Our guardian angel. Our collective conscience.” He tried to take his hand off her chest, but she didn't let go. “I don't deserve this!”
Angela looked extremely sad for a moment, but her tears stopped. Her grip on his hand loosened but, before Torbjörn could react, she jumped on him and both fell on the tarpaulin. Her hands were now holding his head, keeping it in place before she kissed him straight in the lips. Well, as much of his lips as his beard allowed. He didn't react. It had been too long since his last kiss. He didn't recall them feeling so good.
“Dummkopf! That's for me to decide!” She shouted before kissing him again. This time he clumsily reciprocated. She smiled. “I don’t want anybody else!”
They kissed again. And again. And again. Whatever osculatory expertise they had lost during their years alone, they soon started to regain it. The night wind was relatively chilly, and the sun had almost disappeared beyond the horizon, but the couple were far too excited to feel anything but the heat of their burning desires. Tongues were entwined, fluids were exchanged and beard hairs were misplaced before any of them used their mouths to talk again.
“I should have done this years ago,” calmly stated Angela, kneeling up next to the prone engineer and taking a rogue whisker out of her mouth. A tent-like bulge on the fabric of the man's overalls caught her eye and she smiled impishly. “Wow. I see your little friend has woken up.”
“I-I haven't felt this alive in years!” he answered, still completely flat on the ground, too surprised or too happy to sit up.
“Am I to understand, then,” said Mercy, “that you don't reject my affections?”
“Nej. No. Never,” he shook his head. “And, if this is a dream, please don't wake me up,” he joked, laughing softly.
She lied down next to him and started kissing him again. She kissed him on the forehead, the eyelid, the cheeks and again on the lips. Then he wasn't able to control himself anymore and tightly embraced her. They stayed that way for several minutes, just holding and kissing each other, until a lock of Mercy's golden hair got stuck in Torbjörn's prosthetic arm. They managed to unravel the knot, but it took bit of pain from her and a lot of apologies from him.
“It's all right,” she said, kissing him one more time. “Do you mind taking it off?”
“No. No, gimme a minute,” he hurriedly answered.
“Let me do it,” she asked.
He nodded and offered his arm to her. It wasn't the first time the physician had removed the engineer's prosthesis, and it wasn't the first time she had seen the stubby stump full of sockets and other mechanical implants that was where his arm had once been. Nevertheless, the man still felt uncomfortably vulnerable when somebody saw him that way. She noticed this and caressed his shoulder, softly running her delicate fingers over the dwarfish man’s hairy skin. His arm was thicker than Mercy's thighs and, excluding a prominent beer gut, his muscle tone overall was quite enviable. And, as far as his companion was concerned, very sexy. The woman, who had been distracted by her own emotional turmoil, noticed then the hot, throbbing sensation coming from her ladybits. She checked his companion's groin again and noticed that he was still pitching a tent.
“I wouldn't normally do this,” she started to explain, getting up too fast and almost losing her balance, “but I'm sick and tired of waiting.”
She took off her shoes and her jeans, showing a pair of perfectly-shaved alabaster sculptural legs and an ass so perky and plump that it would made most underwear model's derrières look flat and saggy in comparison. She was covering her innermost privates with a pair of plain cotton panties that perfectly hugged her curvy behind, but she removed them so quickly that the engineer had almost no time to see the lingerie before it reached the floor. Her pussy was covered by a soft-looking bush of golden curly pubes that seemed naturally confined only to the parts most deserving its protection. She stood above the befuddled sprawled man, who had been silently enjoying the unexpected and brief striptease. Her face was bright red, but filled with resolute confidence.
“I hope this won't seem too crass,” she said, walking over Torbjörn's head and standing immediately above his face with one leg at each side, facing his feet, “but I want to know if your beard also tickles down here,” she explained, pointing to her crotch.
“Well, I'm...”
Before he could finish the sentence, the anxious physician had already kneeled down and landed his inner thighs just in front of the bearded man's mouth. The engineer was conflicted. He had always admired Mercy’s beauty, and more than once had fantasized about sexual encounters with the angelic healer, but at the same time he wasn’t a very experienced lover and had never been especially talented in oral matters. However, there was something undeniably appetising and alluring about the way the salmon-coloured labia of Angela’s pussy looked and smelled. Thus, lust trumped doubt, and he clumsily but very eagerly started kissing the entrance of Mercy’s secret cove, losing himself in the salty aroma and taste of her love juices. While his technique had a lot of room for improvement, his efforts were well received by his lover, whose legs quickly started to tremble as Torbjörn’s licks and kisses increased in intensity and pace.
For the physician it was an exhilarating sensation, one she had hoped to feel since she met Torbjörn many years ago. Despite having no shortage of lovers and suitors during most of her life, she never felt for anyone the same way she did for her current companion. She had always found the stout builder attractive. There was something undeniable manly and powerful about his gruffy hairiness and physical toughness, but something in his short stature and well-natured disposition made her want to protect and care for him. And, as she begrudgingly had to admit, it also inspired phantasies in which she dominated the otherwise hard-headed Swedish engineer. Thus, finally having him devoutly serving her in such a submissive role was exciting her immensely. She pressed her pussy further down into the man’s face and trapped his head with her legs, moaning of pleasure and grinning like a demon. He grunted a protest, but otherwise continued providing his services.
Torbjörn was having some difficulties to breathe properly, but other than that he had no reason to relent. He found the exotic bouquet of Mercy’s nectar addictive and Torbjörn was not the kind of man who leaves a task unfinished or hurries it unnecessarily. However, he had to admit that the mounting pressure he was feeling on his pants gave his work a sense of biological urgency.
Meanwhile, Angela’s cries of bliss had turned into an immoral canon a capella. She took off her blouse and swiftly opened her bra strap, freeing her bosom. Her breasts, that filled even the most spacious of C-cups, were remarkably bouncy and perky. Bright pink nipples crowned the majestuous pale white meat mountains, crossed here and there by subtle lightning-like streaks of veiny blue. The medic started fondling herself and, overwhelmed by bliss and an increasingly perverse yearning for dominating his lover, began grinding her privates on the engineer’s face, ignoring his groans and gasps, enjoying the tickling friction of his abundant rough beard and his slightly desperate attempts to please her.
For Tjörborn the erotic encounter had turned into an incredibly exciting struggle. Despite the continuously increasing difficulty of breathing properly while he executed the cuninlingus, no straight man would be capable of ignoring the irresistible sensuality of the unexpectedly wild angel. However, as the situation escalated, he decided to take a hands-on approach, or at least a hand-on approach. He managed to push apart Mercy’s shapely buttocks with no small difficulty. This helped with the air supply problem and, despite her uninterrupted swinging motion, also gave him better access to the sensitive spots of her nether regions. She was momentarily startled by the engineer’s change of tactic but, seemingly pleased by it, bent down a little to better present her privates. He happily used the opportunity to start using his fingers, carefully massaging Mercy’s labia and slowly inserting them into the very lubricated cavity.
Angela, who was more used to the stimulation of her clitoris for onanistic purposes and who had spent a rather long time without a sexual partner, was pleasantly surprised with the engineer’s dactilar exploration. Despite the roughness of his skin and the thickness of his fingers, the sudden increase of pleasure she experienced definitely proved that he was much more skillful with his hands than with his tongue. She was surprised both by the gentleness with which he was able to work on such conditions and the eagerness with which her love cove welcomed the incursions of the man’s burly fingers. Angela could feel the familiar trembling on her legs, the lack of breath and increase of pressure in the belly that preceded an orgasm. However, this one promised to be much more intense than the ones she usually achieved pleasuring herself. She tried her best to postpone it, riding the tidal wave of bliss for as long as she could, but when Torbjörn managed to slid in her two fingers just after he had serendipitously found the clitoris with his lips and tongue, that wave crashed. It crashed quickly and it crashed hard.
Mercy’s whole body quaked and tensed as she gave out a long cry that almost turned into a howl. He devoutly kept massaging the moist insides of her vagina with his fingers and kissing her sensitive spots during the unusually long climax, but he stopped as soon as she went limp and relaxed, falling forward and resting on his lover’s body. The couple spent a few minutes recovering their breaths and enjoying the nice contrast between the warmth emanating from their bodies and the cool night breeze. The sun had disappeared beyond the horizon already, and the light of thousands of stars shone on the pale skin of the angelic healer. Nevertheless, there was something unable to relax despite, nay, because of, the recent events.
A trembling bulge rose immediately in front of the blissful visage of the German beauty. The immensely satisfied lover, feeling a tad guilty about her egotistic behaviour, carefully caressed the contour of the surprisingly stoic boner. She was able to feel its heat and the small throbbing pulsations running on the tumid member even through the fabric. She rolled to one side and slowly got up, her legs still reeling from the powerful orgasm. She looked at her lover and almost broke into laughter.
Torbjörn was looking at Mercy as if she was a goddess or a mythical being, gawping and with his only eye threatening to jump out of its socket. During the intense face-sitting session his visual field was mostly blocked by the woman’s inner thigh and nether regions, so this was the first time he actually saw her naked. He was amazed. Bedazzled. Completely infatuated. Never in his life had he laid eyes in a woman so breathtakingly beautiful. If there was anything on Angela’s magnificent body that could be considered a flaw in a different person, in the engineer’s eyes it only served to further enhance the work of art that was her figure. That mole added a welcomed spot of colour, those wrinkles showed personality and each other imperfection was just one more brush stroke of the wonderful painting. He knew then that his heart no longer belonged to him and that no age difference or disability would ever keep him from wanting to be at her side. A small tear of joy quickly disappeared in his beard. He tried to speak, but no word came out. Nevertheless, Mercy seemed to perfectly understand his feelings and smiled the truest and happiest smile he had ever seen.
“I love you,” she said, vocalising what both of them were thinking. “Nun! Get up, it’s your turn,” she asked, offering her hand.
He took it, without daring to stop looking at her for an instant, stood up and, apparently incapable to move further, waited for more orders. This dutiful subservience only made Angela love him more. She impishly bit her lip, thinking of devious future uses for her new and obedient lover.
“Now,” she continued, interrupting her train of thought, “I’ll do you. Don’t move,” she ordered, giddily awaiting his confirmation.
He swallowed saliva and nodded, completely surrendering to his mistress’s rule. Mercy calmly walked in front of his lover, enjoying his absolute complacency and feeling a surge of empowerment as the diminishing distance gradually made their height difference more obvious. She stopped when they were less than one feet apart, caressed one of his cheeks and smiled.
“Take off your boots,” she commanded.
Torbjörn removed his shoewear with unprecedented celerity and returned to his standing position. Angela leisurely took the last step separating her from the engineer, especially enjoying the anxious expression on his face as she bent down, embraced him and slowly buried his bearded face between her breasts. He instinctively moved his hand to grope the succulent backside of the healer, but she pushed the hand back.
“Not now,” she said. “Be a good boy.”
He sighed, too elated by the heavenly sensation of having his head comfortably nested in the midst of her abundant bosom. She smelled of salty sweat and zesty lemon cake. It was paradise.
Mercy, deeply satisfied by the stout man’s fascination with her body and his surprisingly submissive behaviour, kissed the top of his head and pressed her knockers on his face. She could feel his breath and heart rate accelerate, as well as a regular trembling as he struggled to control his most basic impulses. She slowly moved away from him, knowingly goading him to follow her, waiting for his willpower to run out. But he sheepishly remained still even as she removed him from the soft prison of her bosom. She bit her lip again, feeling more excited with each test of his devotion. She bent down and kissed him, softly at first but with increasingly more passion each successive time. Nibbling his earlobes, licking his lips and taunting him with whispers and moans.
Then she suddenly ripped the front of Torbjörn’s overalls open and began to slowly move down, biting his neck, pinching his little nipples and pulling from the brown hair that covered most of his muscular chest. Despite the delightful torture and the constant temptation that for him was seeing Angela’s naked body, the engineer willingly submitted to her. He could tell that she was enjoying herself immensely and, despite his own feelings of frustration, this session had been the most fulfilling sexual experience of his life. By voluntarily giving her so much power, he had managed to feel more realised that during any of his previous, and mostly forgettable, dalliances.
However, the erotic intensity of the event had managed to keep him fully erect during the encounter, and the mounting pressure on his membrum virile had turned into an uncomfortable, sometimes painful, sensation. Mercy, who had nearly forgotten about his lover’s own needs, accelerated her pace to make up for it. She finished removing the buttons of the boilersuit—some she opened, some she tore off—and pulled down the clothing to reveal a pair of slips about to burst at the seams trying to contain Torbjörn impressively sized erection.
Angela looked at the massive package with a mix of shock and primal lust. With the overalls on she hadn’t been able to properly judge its proportions. The curvature of the Swedish man’s prominent gut combined with the outline of the clothes made it appear reasonably generous in girth but average in length. It was, however, proportionally speaking, the longest thing on his body, but not an iota less thick than she had foreseen. She let go a sigh of nervous anticipation and, very carefully, removed his underpants.
He had evidently not been circumcised, but most of the foreskin had already been peeled back, showing a dark red glans mostly covered in sticky pre-seminal fluid, which explained the origin of the stain that decorated the front of the slips and that she, tactfully, had decided to ignore. She spent some time simply admiring the sublime piece of man meat that his amazingly endowed partner was packing. He, meanwhile, seemed more worried than proud. It wasn’t his first rodeo, after all, and the size of his dong had mostly worked against him in previous encounters. It wasn’t an easy fit for most women and, while he would have preferred to warn Mercy, it’s a difficult topic to bring up without sounding like a prick. Angela Ziegler, however, was not an easy woman to intimidate. She breathed deep and tried to envelop the shaft of his cock with one of her hands.
She barely could close her hand around it and it grew close to ten inches from its base. Its trunk curved slightly upwards and a bit to the right. It was very hot, surprisingly hard and quite hairy near the base, from which an equally hirsute but normal-sized scrotum hang. But, at the same time, its skin was amazingly soft and the tip had a pleasant rounded shape, appropriately aerodynamic. In any other man maybe Mercy would have found it gross and unnecessarily big, but it was Torbjörn’s, so she felt it was an effectively designed and absolutely majestic love-making tool.
She started stimulating it, slowly jerking off the hefty phallus with one hand while she massaged her hanging Swedish meatballs with the other. He stoically stood there while she very skillfully made him closer and closer to his release.
Angela felt that doing it with her hands was a bit cheap, but due to their difference in height it seemed difficult to engage in oral sex—which she secretly and greatly enjoyed practicing, as the continuous mouth-watering she was experiencing would have given away. And the rest of things she would have liked to do with him would greatly benefit from a better equiped location. Thankfully, both of them seemed to reciprocate each other feelings, so she trusted there would be time for future erotic exploits.
Despite Mercy’s guilt, Torbjörn was anything but dissatisfied with her manual labour. Many years had passed since the last time anybody else had touched his pecker and nobody had ever made him feel so excited or desired. At his age, he thought, having someone like Angela so much as looking at him with a sliver of love was a gift. Having that same angel touching him that way, well, it was much more that he ever hoped for.
However, a body is a body, and even a will of iron cannot hold back the beastly urges of the human animal, so in spite of all his attempts to control himself, the engineer’s body started to move. He was subconsciously rocking in place, thrusting his hips in tempo with Mercy’s manipulation. The healer felt the closeness of Torbjörn’s orgasm and decided to reward his almost perfect obedience up until then and end this session, the first of many, with a more intense experience.
She decreased the rhythm without stopping the handjob and slowly circled around the engineer until she was at his right side. She sat down looking at him and bent her back sideways, moving her head closer to his cock while carefully pushing its tip towards her mouth. Mercy readjusted her position until she found a reasonably comfortable way to confront the one-eyed snake. Then, she carefully licked the tip of the glans, covering it with a glossy coat of saliva, and used her hands to check whether there was any nasty surprise hidden in the folds of the foreskin, something that sadly she had learned the need to do the hard way. When she verified the admirable standards of personal hygiene of the otherwise gruffy-looking man, she kissed the tip of the dickhead and enveloped it with her soft, pink lips, while her hands resumed their previous roles. A trembling on the base of the meat pole and a grunt from the otherwise silent man gave her a final warning before the already unstoppable jizz eruption took place.
Torbjörn, as far as rational thought was concerned, wasn’t there anymore. He had dissolved into an ocean of pure emotion and physical pleasure. He was no more, and yet he had never felt so complete. Only very vaguely conscious of what was happening, he still felt the jolt of energy that surged through his body, which was almost numb everywhere but where the healer was touching him, as the rush unmistakably travelled towards his genitals.
Mercy was expecting the jet of sperm, gently massaging the glans with her tongue, but its potency and the volume of liquid shot surprised her. The spunk came out in short but generous bursts, each accompanied by a spasm of the ecstatic donor’s body. His thick man juice filled the physician’s mouth with a powerful bitter taste. It wasn’t exactly delicious, but she happily received each drop, sucking and kissing the head of the prodigious penis until there was none left. As soon as she stopped touching the enraptured engineer’s body, his otherwise robust knees buckled and he fell back on his hairy ass.
The man opened his eyes and returned to the world of the living. Whatever pain the fall had caused on his behind, he didn’t seem to feel it, as a huge idiot grin of mindless satisfaction occupied most of his face. He suddenly recovered from his trance, recalling all the relevant information about the last minutes of his life. He blushed and looked to Mercy, worried about having offended her somehow. The medic was smiling, seemingly entertained by Torbjörn’s sudden loss of verticality. Her cheeks were a bit puffed, his mouth still filled to the brim with his seed. She stared into his eye and made a show of swallowing it all. The man was so surprised by this gesture that his eyebrows almost shot themselves out of his face.
“I think,” said Angela, wiping with her tongue a furtive drop of the gooey substance from the corner of her mouth, “that’s enough for a first date.”
She started to laugh and rolled next to Torbjörn, who soon joined her. They lied down there, laughing like idiots and embracing each other. They kissed and frolicked for a bit, but as soon as the cool night wind made Angela sneeze, the practically-minded man gallantly stood up, picked up her clothes and helped her on her feet. She, suddenly acting with her usual modesty again, kissed his cheek and got dressed, while the engineer reattached his prosthesis and tried his best to put on his own clothes, but several of the buttons of his work suit had been pulled off.
“Tut mir leid,” apologised the healer, looking at the haphazardly closed overalls. “I’ll sew them back later.”
“Don’t worry about it,” answered the engineer, “I’ll buy a new one. With velcros,” he joked. “For now let’s go to your bed, I don’t think we’ll fit in my hammock.”
He smiled and offered his natural arm to Angela, who hooked his hand on his bicep after making a courteous bow. The coupled kissed once more and slowly made her way down to their accommodations.
- 1
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LOVERWATCH - The Doctor is in (Love)