Yellow Tape
AN: http:// yaoi./ view/647947/ This, my friends, is what made me do it.
This is another one of those fics that I WILL NOT CONTINUE UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES!
That will be all
THISISTHESTUPIDLINETHATSEPARATESTHESTUPIDAUTHORSNOTESFROMTHESTUPIDSTORY…
He certainly wasn't as ridiculously small or dainty as the other dancers and his routine wasn't as graceful and flowery but he no doubt brought in business. Especially from the Miners.
Large black hands slid over the pole as he sank to his heels, rocking his hips against the pole, coating it with lubricant from his exposed port. Loud wolf-whistles and cat-calls echoed around the mech and he rolled his red optics as he licked his own hand, sliding his hand up and down the pole slowly.
"Whoo! Yeah, babe, that's good!"
"Shake dat aft, hun!"
The dancer looked over at the miner, smirking and sliding up straight, moving to give his audience a better view of his aft and port and spike. He gasped and ground against the pole, lubricant streaming down his thighs and the pole. Hands reached up to his small stage, touching and sliding credits into the two small compartments at his hips.
His song ended and he bowed, sliding off the stage. A large hand smacked his aft and he turned with a raised optic ridge.
"Come 'ere, baby, give us a dance." An enormous triple-changer grinned and the silver mech paused, calculating the price for the dance, before smirking and sliding onto the table, wriggling his aft and crawling sultrily towards the mech. He reared up onto his knees, his pelvic plating level with the mech's face, practically thrusting into it.
"Oh, yeah, baby, that's it…" The triple-changer groped the dancer's aft and the silver mech slapped his hand away.
"Look, but don't touch." The mech chided before continuing to rub his body against the larger mech's, sliding down to his lap and grinding his aft against hot pelvic armor. By the time the mech was finished the triple-changer was aching for an overload.
"Come on, baby, just finish it." The triple-changer panted, grabbing the mech's thigh when he moved to leave.
"Sorry, that's extra." The mech smirked, tracing the red designs on his chestplate, the larger mech whining.
"Who do I make the transfer out to?" The mech asked, stroking the dancer's thigh in his grasp.
"Make it out to Megatron."