Overwatch Sluts on Tape!
Overwatch was shut down, but girls need to make a living.
"Muah!" Widowmaker blew a kiss into the camera and watched the red recording light turn off. The shoot was done, and so was she, at least for the rest of the day. Another job well done. She was the best at what she did.
"Great work Amelie," the producer, Frank, said. He liked to pretend that no one could see the raging hard-on under his sweatpants, but no one was stupid enough to believe that he wasn't leering after all of his talent. They just knew better than to question him. "Your check will be in the mail tomorrow, honey, I promise."
"Mm," Widowmaker said, doing up her bra behind her back. Once upon a time, Frank had tried to stiff her on her pay, either by underpaying her or waiting months and months to send her checks in the hopes that she would just forget. She had resolved that problem herself, with a little late-night infiltration action. Those days were over. "Good night, cherie."
She ignored the crew who tried to talk to her and Frank's petty whining as she slipped into the dark violet dress that she had hung up carefully before getting changed for the scene. They always liked to throw the girl's clothes aside, but everyone knew better than to mess with her wardrobe. She had gotten people worse than fired for a tear in her leggings.
Widowmaker walked out into the night air of the garage and opened the door to her convertible. She was gone from the studio before 1AM, with her partner's cum still dripping into her panties and her fingers on her clit the whole way home.