The following story was created purely for entertainment purposes, and the author does not gain any profit from its distribution. While the events depicted are the original creations of the author, the characters are owned by Blizzard Entertainment, and all relevant partners. This story is in not connected to the canon of Overwatch. Please do not distribute this story elsewhere without express author permission and due credit. Thank you!
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The beats slammed against every wall in the spacious, two floor, club. The throbbing music spilled forth from the speakers that ran from floor to ceiling. Between them was a screen the projected the image of a white frog, wearing headphones, on a green background. Behind the turntable was the world renowned DJ/Activist/Rebel leader, Lucio. Theoretically, the DJ could have been anyone, as Lucio was dressed in his full costume tonight, as he was every night. A silver full body jump suit, green neon glow lines running up his torso, with a green frog foot print on his chest, and down his arms. Thick armor plating covers his legs. The skates he wore allowed him to dash between records, various laptops, and mixing stations. A simple smile below two large, pure green, eyes affixed into a frog like helmet. The headphones on the helmet matched those on his color-changing logo behind him.
The youth of England danced and cheered to the techno music that sent vibrations through their body. Dancing was constant, adding more pounding noise to the club. In the throngs of people were two women. One had hair of stark white, and black goggles pressed into the spiky mop so her big brown eyes could watch her dance partner. Her partner had dual colored hair. From the roots it started off purple, and faded into cyan as it neared the tips. Like the other punk, her hair was cut relatively short, though she did not shave off the hair on the sides of her head like her dance partner did.
The purple/blue haired punk's outfit looked heavy, and covered in studs and spikes. Three studded bands around each forearm. Blue cloth ran from her elbows and ended in fingerless gloves, the color darkening as it went down. Her clothing was closer to body armor than something light as her partner wore, but she did not feel safe going out without it. She felt she needed to keep her partner safe and secure, especially when they went out in public together, and even more so to an illegal club.
Lena Oxton, the white haired woman, could sense the lingering tension in her dance partner, Aleksandra "Zarya" Zaryanova. She was nervous, and scared. Being out in public was a risk, a great one, given their relationship. Back home, Zarya was far more open and energetic with Lena, but out in public her eyes were constantly shifting. That was precisely why Lena insisted they go out that night. She wanted to show off her girlfriend to the world, and to show her that they could be safe, as long as they were together. Lena also desperately wanted to see the famous Lucio in concert, and knew Zarya did, too, so she had to convince her to fulfill her dream.
The muscled woman, Zarya, did her best to relax, to enjoy her time out with Lena. She was at a secret Lucio concert, and she was with the love of her life. She and Lena led a polyamorous relationship, and had no qualms with each other sleeping around with other people, especially if they could all participate together. For Zarya, though, there was no one but Lena that she would give her heart too.
Still failing to relax the towering woman, Lena tried to get her into a mood she couldn't resist succumbing to. The beats around them were getting heavier, and more sensual. Lena knew this was the right time to pounce. Her body undulated and grinded back against Zarya. Hands reached up to rake her fingers through her short crop of purple and blue hair. Lena took her lover's wrists and guided her strong hands over her lithe and swaying body. She felt so safe in those large trunks for arms, and she felt so horny under the strong touch of her hands on her breast and against her twisting belly.
Zarya was starting to feel more at ease. Mostly, it was Lena taking her mind off her worries by occupying her attention with her body. She regretted wearing the bulky armor. The goth wanted to feel the punk's body writhing against her, to feel every curve grinding into her every muscle. Biting down her lower lip, on the side without a piercing through it, Zarya forgot about her troubles and squeezed her hands against Lena's perky tits.
Giggling with delight, Lena was happy to see her plan had worked, and so quickly. Zarya's hands now moving of their own volition, Lena was free to guide her hands behind Zarya, and squeeze at her firm and tight ass. Her own ass grinded back against Zarya. She wished she could do so against just her pants, but Zarya still had armor on that was blocking her access. Lena was not one to easily give up, though, and she'd have her out of that ridiculous security measure before the night's end.
Heavy lids, painted in a mix of purple and blue to match her hair, lifted up slowly. Zarya's eyes peered around the crowd, at all the happy people. They weren't worried, they weren't frightened, so why should she be? Then she looked up to the second floor balcony and spotted someone she thought was spying on them. She looked out of place, and yet no one else seemed to mind her presence. Zarya panicked, and pulled her hands off of Lena, not wanting to give this mystery woman more evidence of their illegal activity.
Lena heard Zarya speak above her. Her thick Russian accent mixed with the loud club music made it hard to make out, but her tone suggested worry. She sighed and turned, and directed her attention back down to herself. "Don't worry, love," she said to her, closing the distance between the two by standing on her toes. She wanted to make sure she heard every reassuring word. "We're safe here. We're among friends. Relax, and enjoy yourself." She could see her words had done some good, but there was still more worry than arousal on the Russian's face. Turning back around, and with a wicked smile, Lena engaged her next attempt at distracting Zarya. Lifting Zarya's hand up to her mouth, she gripped the goth's index and middle fingers and pressed them against her tongue. Black lips closed around the digits, trapping them inside with her luscious, studded, tongue. She treated the fingers like a lover's cock. Sucking and nipping, curling her tongue around the digits and pulling them out slowly, only to push them back in before they fully left her mouth. Satisfied with the prep work, Lena pulled them out with a pop and moved them down toward her crotch, where her zipper was being tugged down - exposing her cute black panties.
"Lena, what are you doing?" she asked, her voice thick with her accent. Her eyes darted around the club, looking for signs that anyone other than the woman above was watching. She could have pulled her arm away easily, she was certainly strong enough. But her willpower was sucked out through her fingertips by her adventurous lover.
She definitely couldn't hear what she was saying this time. Her heart was beating too hard and fast for her to hear anything than the blood being surged through her warming body. Since she hadn't pulled away, she figured she was being given the go-ahead to continue. The purple finger nails disappeared inside her thin panties, and soon the rest of her two fingers with them. Lena had to guide the digits against her from the outside of her panties, as there simply wasn't enough room for both their hands. Not once did she stop dancing to the beat. Hips rocked back and forth, and butt thrust back. Her back arched and her breasts strained against her t-shirt when she managed to get Zarya's middle finger into her dripping heat.
The Russian had dreamed of this exact scenario. At a Lucio concert, fingering Lena, and having a hell of a time.
How can I stop now?
she thought to herself. Convinced now that the spy was just a pervy onlooker, Zarya decided to give her a show.
Why not? She chose well in spying on Lena and I, she deserves a reward
, she rationalized about putting on an exhibition for the voyeur.
And I deserve a reward, too, I think. I don't know for what, but I'm sure I'll do something in the future to deserve this much fun
