To Fool a Frenchman | By : JayDee Category: +S through Z > Team Fortress 2 Views: 1873 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Team Fortress 2. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
The engineer, Dell Conagher, quietly strummed his guitar. He appeared an ordinary roughneck engrossed in plucking a jaunty tune from the battered instrument. Yet beneath his hard yellow hat worked perhaps the finest intelligence the world had known for generations. He had identified a problem that needed solving. There hadn’t been a single backstabbing reported in the battles raging around the already lost first control point. That meant there was an enemy spy lurking cloaked near the second control point. The cunning Frenchman was waiting ‘til their guard was down. Pyro was too busy to come burn him out. Apparently.
All the spy had to do was sap the sentry and sink that blade into two men. Dell, his comrade and the sentry gun protecting the point would be thoroughly deceased. The spy hadn’t taken the bait offered by Dell’s guitar strumming. He figured he needed a distraction that no French gentleman would ever consider to be fake. He needed to make love. “Tavish!” The other man supposedly guarding the control point was Tavish DeGroot, the world’s most famous Black Scottish Cyclops. Admittedly the competition for that honor was not fierce. He also claimed to be the deadliest demoman alive, despite an explosive mishap which had cost him an eye. His sticky bombs coated the control point like splats of spunk on the face of a gangbanged Glaswegian goth girl. He staggered over, scrumpy bottle gripped tightly, as Dell continued in his Texan drawl, “I wish to make an asseveration: You’re mighty callipygian, with a surfeit of aesthetic appeal!” “Fuckin’ hell, Dell! I telt you, I cannae follow that shite. Chemicals I ken, like. We don’t all have 11 phds, ye ken!”” He pulled the tall man into his arms, and tilted his head back to kiss him full on the lips. Tavish’s dear old mother would not have approved as he drunkenly returned the engineer’s affection. His scrumpy soaked tongue lashed Dell’s mouth, a moment of loving passion on a baking hot day amidst the dustbowl. The engineer pulled back, a final kiss on the demoman’s lip, and quietly explained, “I said, you have a fine ass, and you’re just too cute!” “Och! We’re working. We need tae stay sharp! Keep oor three eyes open! Some scunner could do for us! ” The engineer was staying sharp. The watching spy would have no clue that he hadn’t simply become bored waiting for an enemy push and turned to a comrade for a little loving. When the engineer pocketed his essential repair wrench, and cupped the demoman’s crotch as they kissed again, the impression could only be heightened. It would take a man undistracted by passion to notice that the engineer’s apparently disregarded shotgun was within easy reach. “What do you say to bending your sculpted be-hind over the back of this here sentry, dispose of our superfluity of semen? You like that proposal? Drop your pants!” “Aye, too fuckin’ right!” It was by no means their first coupling. That had come in a chemistry laboratory, where Dell had been genuinely impressed with the breadth and depth of Tavish’s chemistry knowlege. He had to admit the payload of rockets launched from his own sentry design had improved as a result. Their mutual compliments grew into something more, and chemical formulae were replaced with grunts, moans, and more localized explosive blasts. The engineer knelt down behind the demoman, and pressed his face between the dark black skin of those toned cheeks. He loved that taste, hot and sweaty and especially the way it made Tavish moan as his ring was breached with the engineer’s educated tongue. Dell unhooked his dungarees with one hand, and used the other to reach around and feel Tavish’s hardening length. The demoman was missing an eyeball, but still had a full complement below. Tavish gripped the warm metal of the sentry, pressing his buttocks back under the onslaught of Dell’s skilled rimming. Dell, like many of his generation in Texas, had been circumcised as a baby. He liked the faintly exotic feel of Tavish’s Scottish foreskin, the way he could tug lightly on the thick black skin with his rough, pale fingers, even as the demoman grew fully erect. His own cock popped up at attention as his dungarees settled about his boots. His length pressed between Tavish’s buttocks for a moment as he lent forwards for a kiss. “Aye! C’mon then!” Teeth gritted, the engineer eased his way inside the familiar passage. Tavish’s hard ass provided the perfect gripping places for leverage, until he could tenderly fully penetrate. Constantly reminded himself the point of the exercise, he couldn’t help but enjoy both the pleasure he personally felt, and equally knowing Tavish really enjoyed being stretched and filled. He reached again for Tavish’s length and stroked as he thrust. He wasn’t sure if there was a rational reason why he liked the feel of Tavish’s tool in his hand so much, whether it was the heat or the firmness or something else, he just knew gripping and stroking it was more fun’n watching his sentry at work. “Ah fuckin’ love it!” The spy finally made his move behind the vigorously copulating couple. He believed the enthusiastic grunts would easily drown out the noise of his cloak-and-daggar device, and when neither reacted he smiled and moved in for the kill. The spy waited a moment until the demoman collapsed forward, his thick sperm spurted fiercely over the sentry gun. The engineer was peaking too, holding himself inside his lover, as the spy slid silently forward… to meet the suddenly grabbed, raised and backwards pointed barrel of the shotgun. “Merde…” There was a lot of kick in the shotgun. Fired one handed it bounced upwards, almost flying from Dell’s hand. It was nearly deafening. The spy’s suddenly shorter corpse hit the dust. Satisfied they were alone again, Dell dropped to his knees and set to licking his sentry, and Tavish’s cock, clean of cooling spunk. End.A/N: Story written for AFF forum weekly prompt 27 - Callipygian.
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