Heavily inspired by Nyl’s SFM work and some chats, I had the idea to write some futa dickings. For now, it involves Tracer taking on a brutally hung Widowmaker and Zarya. Then plan is to involve more girls - and a lot more size/other kink.

This is but the first part - it’s not done yet, but it’s midnight, and I’ve got to pause.

The reason for posting it unfinished is this: I want your opinion!

WHO do you think should be the next to join? Any particular attributes?

Also, how do you feel about the dick sizes? Need to grow fast, slow? Which of the girls should go multi?

Leave me a reply and I’ll use it for when I pick it up again!





Oversized Overwatch:

Tracer heard the angrily stomping footsteps through the wall before their owners reached her room in the sprawling Overwatch base.

Her apartments were pretty spacious, given the para-military nature of the outfit, and the cheerful brunette had wasted no time in covered every inch of wall-space with posters, at least half of them featuring the Union Jack. Tracer herself was loafing around on her bed, lying on a mound of pillows in nothing but orange underwear (with a stylized ‘Over-Waifu’ on the front of her panties) and her gaming goggles, with a Playstation controller and a twinkie in her hands.

The rushed footsteps stopped in front of her door and, in place of knocking, kicked it open in one try despite the extremely expensive lock. Zarya, the pink-haired, Heavy, strode in without a word of apology and took up a position in front of the wall-mounted TV. She wore a sleeveless, navy tanktop and a pair of baggy sweatpants. Zarya crossed her beefy arms over her likewise beefy chest and spoke in her thick russian accent. “Tracer, quit game. I need your help.”

Tracer threw up one arm and tried to peek past her. “Hey, come on, I almost got my achievement. I’ve spent hours to get this far, gimme 5 more minutes!”

The second figure from outside stepped inside: Widowmaker, the faintly purple-skinned femme fatale followed after Zarya. Despite not wearing her combat gear, her purple color scheme remained intact, with a thin top with the deepest V-neck that Tracer had seen in a while, and yoga pants that hugged her heavenly booty . She stepped gingerly over the dented door at the threshold to stand beside Zarya, a hand on her hip. “Later, cherie. We have something to settle. Something important.”

Tracer sat down her controller and gave the pair a thoughtful look. Then she threw the rest of the twinkie into her mouth and ate it noisily. “Alright. You two wouldn’t be showing up if you could avoid it, so it’s gotta be good.” She rubbed her hands together and sat up on her knees. “So, what’s the mission?”

Zarya and Widowmaker cast sidelong glances at each other. Whatever secret they shared, it was clear that it agitated both women: Widowmaker’s expression in particular shone with disdain, while Zarya looked more stubborn than anything.

“Simple,” Widowmaker said. “We need an impartial judge.”

“Da,” Zarya said. “Is simple proposition. Who is biggest and best?”

Tracer raised an eyebrow. “Uh, in what way? 'cuz Widow, unless you’re planning to enroll in some serious body building, that’s Zarya, hands down.” She gave Widowmaker a curious look. “Unless… Oh, is this about the size of your guns? Sniper rifle versus that big… Laser thing?”

“You could say that,” Widowmaker conceded with a slight smile, while Zarya let out a brief, boisterous chuckle. The tense atmosphere between the two softened somewhat. Widowmaker continued. “Tracer, dear. We need you to determine who is best armed.”

At that, both Widowmaker and Zarya acted in unison. Zarya hooked her thumbs around her sweatpants and pulled them to her knees, while Widowmaker slit the crotch of her yoga pants with a tiny blade concealed between her thumb and index finger. In both cases, the result was the same: A pair of enormous cocks came out into the open, thick and meaty like coke cans and hanging most of the way to the knees.

Tracer almost choked on her twinkie and spent a few embarrassingly anticlimactic seconds composing herself before the brutally hung dickgirls. “Bloody hell!”

“Correct,” Zarya said, with a slightly bemused nod. She grabbed her turgid cock - too big for even her hand to close around - and gave it a few strokes. There were differences between her and Widowmaker’s manhoods, overwhelming as they were. Zarya’s shaft was thicker, her veins more pronounced. Widowmaker, on the other hand, had length on her side, and her smooth, round balls were bigger than even Zarya’s fist-dwarfing pair. She had an almost feminine look to her cock - if anything, it made it even more daunting, a promise of many, many hours of hot, sweaty lovemaking before any girl could even hope to satisfy it.

Tracer caught herself drooling. “Oh. I get it.” She wiped her chin and offered a goofy smile at the 'girls’ as she crawled to the edge of the bed, far enough to wrap her slender fingers around the pair of cocks. “Golly, they’re so warm! So… You need to me get out the measuring tape, eh?”

“That won’t be necessary, ma cherie.” Widowmaker put her hand against Tracer’s and helped the girl give her a firm stroke down the inhumanly fat inches of purplish cockflesh. “We have your fingers.”

“And your mouth,” Zarya said, taking a step closer that brought her tantalizing cock mere inches away from Tracer’s face. “You have experience, yes? As a good judge.”

The brunette couldn’t help herself. She buried her face in Zarya’s crotch, murmuring. “Oh, I’ve gotta taste that delicious-looking dick.”

Zarya chuckled. “Tasting is not a concern. Tasting anything *else* after, that is the issue.”

“Don’t caaaare,” Tracer said, her voice muffled by the enormous pair of balls that she decided to explore with her lips. The sounds of her worshipful kisses were wet and lewd, and she put her excess saliva to good use coating up that potent, brimming cumsack.

“She’s boasting,” Widowmaker said, a faint edge in her words, as she stepped close as well, hip to hip with the russian bodybuilder and with her burgeoning cock all but jousting against Tracer’s cheek. “You’ll find that I present a perfectly workable solution, dear. After tasting me, you’ll never want to have anything else… And indeed, I see no reason why your lips should ever let go of me.”

“I got one!” Tracer giggled. She caught Widowmaker’s eyes and switched to tasting her cock, running her tongue up and down the swelling, purple length in slow strokes. “To give you a moment to fuck my ass, too?”

Zarya’s lips split in a slow grin. “This is, what you say, the jackpot?” She gave Tracer’s spiky, brown hair with a gentle stroke, before grabbing her wrist and leading her idle hand up to caress Zarya’s thick, erecting dick. “The girl is a complete cock-hound. I guess rumors were true.”

“Hey!” Tracer said and craned her neck to look at Zarya, with her chin resting against Widowmaker’s bulging shaft. “I’ll have you know, I only go crazy for quality cocks. You should be happy for my mark of approval.” She turned back and placed a kiss on Widowmaker’s glans, as she pulled back the frenchwoman’s foreskin with an almost religious reverence. “You should know, you came to me to be judged.”

With that, Tracer gave Widowmaker’s cock an appraising glance - almost a foot and a half of throbbing dick, an inhuman slab of fuckmeat. Tracer’s lips curled upwards in a little smile. Then she wrapped her lips around the massive crown and started to push it inside her, inch by inch sliding down her throat.

Widowmaker was caught mid-quip. “It’s alright to be scared, my dear. It’s not every-” Her eyes went wide with a pleasant mix of shock and arousal, before her expression settled into a lustful, tongue-lolling mask. “Putain! Yes, go for it, you little slut!” She slid her hands into Tracer’s hair, wrapping her digits around her scalp like a spider’s legs and forcing the girl to choke even more cock.

Tracer’s sheer enthusiasm made it less 'being forced’ and more of a helping hand. She gleefully gobbled up the first half of Widowmaker’s hot, quivering cock and gave a deep, throaty moan. True, with her lips utterly stretched and her tongue pinned to the bottom of her mouth, 'throaty’ was really the only sound she could make. That did not stop her from mumbling an unintelligible serenade to the wonderful dick in her mouth, while her hands reluctantly left Zarya and Widowmaker’s balls, to wrap around Widowmaker and get a good grip on her perfect ass as the raven-haired assassin throat-fucked her.

“To this this would be your excuse to grab ma petite derrière…” Widowmaker mused and ran her tongue along her plump upper lip. “Mmm. Such a good girl.” She took it slow, stretching the moment as she pushed the final inches of her cock down Tracer’s throat.

The girl seemed bottomless, like she’d done it a thousand times - and still there was resistance, to be oh so slowly overcome, while forced herself forward with watering eyes, until she sat with her lips firmly planted at the root of Widowmaker’s shaft.

Widowmaker released Tracer’s head and ran a finger slowly down her cheek. “Congratulations, dear. You so wholly deserve the prize I’ve saved up for you.” Widowmaker’s eyes shone with mischief. “Do you have any idea how much a lady like me can cum? My girls down here,” she said and brushed her orange-dwarfing balls with her palm, “are begging, pleading to release in you. To coat you, to drown you in my seed. Do you want that, cherie?”

Tracer managed a faint nod.

“Mmh…” Widowmaker moaned in response, a erotic sound that sent a chill down Tracer’s spine and heralded Widowmaker’s explosive orgasm. Her cock throbbed like crazy in Tracer’s mouth, as her monstrously fat balls tightened up and released, shooting far, far more piping hot cum than even their size should allow.

Tracer gasped and shook in her effort to breathe, as her flat belly swelled and sloshed with Widowmaker’s bounty.

A loud exclamation brought Zarya back into the fray. “Enough waiting!” She announced and circled around the bed, her steel-hard cock swinging between her legs. She seized Tracer by her ankles and pulled the kneeling girl back onto all fours, casually grabbing the waist of her panties and tearing them off in the same instant. “Tracer, brace yourself.” Zarya said, as she lined up her veiny manhood against the brunette’s cunt.