The first slot slowed down, letting McCree see the faces of several women flip by. The slot finally stopped on a picture of McCree's face. No, wait, was that him? It looked more like his old team mate, Angela Ziegler. Angie styled her hair with bangs. And she wore that cute make-up. McCree preferred to keep her hair in a tight ponytail and slathered in product and if he -- she? -- was lucky, she'd have some chapstick on him.
He -- uh, she -- who -- Jess McCree always fancied Angie. They joined Overwatch at the same time and it was hard not to be fascinated by your identical clone. Angie was soft where Jess had gotten hard. During their curious liasons, Jess had pressed her skin against Angie's and compared where she had scars and Angie didn't. Kissing Angie, kissing herself and yet someone else, didn't feel real. It felt like a burning, sweaty dream.
Jess wobbled in her chair. The petite blond woman felt the whiskey go to her head. She didn't like the term 'lightweight', but she certainly didn't have the body weight to be going so hard.
And it brought a certain old twinge to Jess's groin, thinking about Angie again. How they'd use to hit the bars in mirrored outfits. How they chuckled together about Fareeha Amari's obvious crush on them both. How they once drank too much with Moira and let her put them both in dog collars. How they once shared Genji's top and bottom, straddling him in the Watchtower med-lab, making out with each other as the cyborg fucked one and ate out the other...
The second slot came to a stop.
Sun Apr 15 00:17:31 2018