It was…a race. It was battle. It was the most delicate political procedure and the hardest physical exertion rolled into the most beautiful work of art he'd ever encountered.
When he'd kissed a femme as a transformer, it was sparks and metal, hardness and sizzling electricity. It charged his systems and spun them out of control.
This was that…but softer. He was addicted to the sensation of suckling her lower lip. The fact that he could, that it was pleasing to him…to both of them…
The wetness was strangely…necessary. He'd never experienced full-body humidity, before and yet it seemed like nothing compared to the heat and wet of their mouths locked in a battle of tongues.
Optimus had read about eating, talking, kissing…licking…but nothing had prepared him for the experience of it. Her textures fascinated his tongue. Slick teeth, rigid roof of her mouth, supple inner cheeks, softly rough tongue…he could lose himself…he felt lost.
She placed both her hands on his cheeks, wrapping long fingers around the sides of his head, holding him and kissing him back, directing him. The friction of her lips on his was maddening.
He felt another detail arise to greet the occasion. He groaned at the feeling roiling from the top of his head zipping down to his crotch, pulling things taut that felt good that way. The penis was a sensitive thing, a changing thing, something that took his mind off her mouth and directed it somewhere much more invasive. His hands slid down to the hem of her shirt and eased under, brushing against her hot stomach's skin.
She inhaled through her nose sharply, having her mouth currently occupied. He broke the kiss to watch her expressions. The blind shudder she gave him for caressing her stomach was the greatest elation.
He felt powerful. Totally and completely aware of this woman and the beat of blood in her veins. He encircled her waist with his hands, wrapping fingers around to almost touch at her spine. His thumbs continued their fascinated mapping of her stomach's musculature.
Her hands stayed almost glued to the sides of his head and pulled him forward to kiss her again.
He couldn't possibly resist from the sultry, beckoning, siren-stare she gave him. Glittering azure met his steely blue eyes, faltered, and closed on a moan. The little mewling noises she made when he ran his thumbs a little higher were enough to bring a mech to his knees, much less an organic.
He gave in with a lick to her upper lip and pulled her fully against him. She fit. It was the oddest feeling of a lock being fit with a long-lost key. This human holoform seemed made to fit against her body. Now he understood the male fascination with breasts. His fingers itched to climb her stomach, the ladder of her ribs, to the small, soft prize above but he'd read that their first encounter was perhaps not the correct time.
It was with regret that he reached down to press her lower body harder against his, knowing it would be an incomplete gesture. It was then that the music reformed in his ears instead of insensate roaring.
He thought about her movements earlier. It was all pelvis. He tentatively rocked against her in imitation and she followed suit in counterpoint. He loosened his stance, stepping around one of her legs to hold her even closer. She held on and they continued rocking, swaying, dancing, kissing. The music changed pace, sped up.
Instead of stopping, as he expected, she smiled against his mouth and increased her motions to match. He held on and relaxed into it, allowing her the lead.
It slowed back down, she dropped her head back, away from him, like she'd just had the greatest indulgence. His smile slipped as he watched her throat work a swallow. He stared at the vulnerable column and brought a hand up to wrap around it. So delicate. So easy to hurt, so easy to please. His thumb brushed over her pulse and he couldn't stop himself from leaning in to taste it.
Her life pulsed against his tongue and the sheer gift of it hit him like a proton blast. This human, this woman trusted him with her very life beneath his mouth. A protective possession crashed over him in a wave of energy rushing through his own veins. In that moment, she was his. As of that moment, no other human had been in this kind of contact with a transformer before.
He was momentarily drowned in the implications. His race could commingle with the earthling populace without detection…could find relationships with another species…
With his being leader of a race drastically short on femmes after the millions of years of war…
No. He was taking this moment for himself. She was his and he felt the need to be hers. He wanted someone to share that responsibility of belonging, if only for the night.
It didn't have to last beyond the night, but he would have it. He would have an equal for tonight, even if it meant awkwardness later. He'd worry about that when he came to it.
He kept brushing his lips against her pulse, meandering between her jawline and her collarbone. She slid her arms down over his shoulders, clutching at great handfuls of his shirt, yanking each handful up and up, exposing his back to the open air.
His arms tightened around her small frame, wrapping around her with length leftover to reach himself back again. Primus, she felt good against him.
Her hands finally gained access to his back. He'd been contemplating ripping the shirt off, or just deleting it, but the sensation of her desperation was energizing.
He shuddered and she moaned as her fingers lit on his skin. He felt his back muscles tremble and shiver, twitching in response with this first touch of skin to his.
Ungh, propriety be damned, he wanted to feel her NOW.
He fit his palm against her ribs and followed the fluctuating indentations to the swell of her left breast. His thumb teased the underside of her support garment, flicking at the underwire until he gained purchase beneath it.
She nuzzled her head down and found his mouth for another kiss. He invaded her mouth with his tongue, desperate to have some part of his body inside hers. It was surprising, the instinctual force of an organic sexual response.
He continued battling her tongue between his mouth and hers while slowly slipping his hand under her bra to the smooth, soft skin hidden beneath.
She knew exactly where his hand was. He could tell from her breathing. She was allowing it and it felt like glory. He groaned his realization into her mouth and pushed advantage of his hand to lever the garment over her breast to free it. His hand landed against the tight tip of her breast and the feel of it made his penis pulse hard against her lower body. Her hands reached around his broad shoulders to lightly scratch his laterals which made him squeeze the softness in his hand.
Her stomach had been so tight and sleek, her arm toned…her breast by contrast was a revelation. Softer than her lips, her cheeks, it felt made for his hand…and other things. His thumb rasped the tip. He couldn't explain the need to do so, but her reaction justified it. She growled and lifted a knee to wrap around his hip, fitting her pelvis more tightly against his.
There was more, he knew it, but he wasn't exactly sure how much to take. She was open and obliging, more than that…but he respected her. She was intelligent. She was one of the few humans he'd come in contact with he could actually talk to and not over. That had to be worth something.
He replaced the bra over her breast, albeit awkwardly. She stopped kissing him and backed her head away a few inches to look at him.
"Maggie…"
"What? What is it? Did I do something wrong?" She started to drop her knee, but he grabbed it and held tight with his hand, keeping it up against his hip. Satin and firm. He could run his hands across her skin for hours. Longer.
"No, you're wonderful. I just think that perhaps we should…back up a little."
She braced her hand on his wrist and pulled her knee out of his grasp, backing up a few feet. He hadn't meant literally, but if that's what it took…
"I—"
"Why?"
Oh Primus. He saw the defiance in her eyes, but underneath the surface he saw the fear of rejection. He needed to clarify, and quickly. "I don't want to ruin…this."
She kept her eyes locked to his, but turned her head a shade to the left, as if trying to figure out what he said. She blinked once, twice rapidly, then let her eyes trail away in thought.
She crossed her arms, but lifted a finger to her lips and tapped. She looked to her left, into the room, towards the interior, then back to him. He watched all of this with trepidation, fascination. He could practically see the gears churning in her head, but he kept his face stoic, his stance neutral.
He barely noticed his shirt falling back into place.
That or something else had spurred her into action, for she grabbed his wrist and pulled him through the living space, into her bedroom.
This wasn't exactly what he meant by backing up, either.
"What are we—"
"Take your clothes off."
He sputtered at her grin. "Do what?"
"Take your clothes off. I have an idea."
"I don't think that we've—"
"Look, Optimus. I've been thinking about this moment all day. It's why I was dancing like I was earlier. I was picturing your holoform—"
"What? How did you—"
"I saw you and Ratchet working on…you…this morning. You looked a bit different…" She ran her eyes over his face. "In fact, I think I remember seeing blonde hair at that time." She shook her head. "Anyway, there's no way I'm letting you pass your first night as human doing anything less than enjoying one of life's greatest pleasures."
"Wait a minute. Maggie, I don't think we should—" Her finger against his lips was the only reason he didn't get irritated at her continuous interruption.
She smiled with a mouthful of knowledge and vixen. "Sex'll come later. Right now, you need a bath."