Overwatch CFNM: McCree Brandishes His Revolver

The stunned silence of the crowd was deafening as McCree stood there, exposed and vulnerable, his face flushing as he felt the breeze on his lower body. He considered cupping himself, but with the number of guns still pointed in his general direction, he reasoned that lowering his hands was probably a bad idea. Despite his circumstances, he couldn’t help but notice how wide the pretty female officer’s eyes got as they passed over him. 

His cock, even while flaccid, stood out prominently from his hips. It was thick and veiny, with a thick, prominent head that was easily recognizable through his foreskin. It was, in a word, big, not simply long, but thick and substantive. His balls hung low and heavy between his legs. His shaven chest contrasted sharply with the unruly forest of dark brown hair covering his lower body, leading the officer to deduce that this was also a facet of his disguise. She was transfixed by his rugged masculinity; he was equal parts rough and tender, gentle and firm. 

“Somethin’ the matter, darlin’?” he asked, trying to mask his embarrassment with bravado. She didn’t respond though, she seemed distracted.

With his clothes piled at his feet, there was nothing concealing Jesse McCree’s rugged and masculine physique from the hungry eyes of the crowd. Under the bright midday sun, his taut muscles rippled beneath his tanned skin, wet with his sweat. He nervously shifted his broad shoulders and well-defined chest which naturally tapered down to a narrow waist and hips. The motion appeared to snap the officer out of her trance, and she began to regain her voice.

“Uh, everything looks great—I mean fine!” she squeaked, somehow seeming more nervous than him. “You aren’t carrying anything.”

His non-bionic hand, thick and calloused from years of handling guns, gestured towards the clothes at his feet in question. He shook the tousled blonde hair that was matted to his forehead, causing droplets of sweat to cascade down his face, leaving damp trails on his tanned skin. The officer took a moment to respond, lost in his deep-set eyes. 

“I-I’m sorry,” was all she could manage to say, internally cringing at what she had to do next. “We’re almost done, but I’m going to need you to…to…”

Realization set into his piercing brown eyes, “You can’t be serious?”

She shrugged apologetically, barely able to maintain eye contact. “ It was a bomb threat. We have to be thorough.”

“Well, ain’t this just peachy,” McCree growled, genuine humiliation etched into his chiseled features, “Glad you took all the cameras, Jack would never let me hear this end of this...”