Not So Innocent—Reverse
Plenoptic
Some idiot keeps sending me flamer reviews (in poetic verse, nonetheless), so obviously I have no choice but to continue posting M rated slash/yaoi. Complain all you want, but you forced me into this.
And to those kind and wonderful reviewers, a little advise for life: Please, always be open-minded and accepting of anyone who's different from you, no matter their race or ethnicity or gender identity or sexual orientation. We all came from the same genetic bottleneck, and like it or not, we're all connected on this one planet of ours. Don't ever feel hate, even for those who are cruel to you, and always be understanding and compassionate. Having read each and every loving word ever sent my way, I know you all to be very kind and considerate people. Please continue to be like that.
And now, poetry! By said flamer, Gruntildaisawesome.
PS-I don't like rape. However, I don't understand how mech-mech action counts as rape. Maybe her syllable count was just off?
"A fact it is not, you're quite misled.
Do you understand a word that's been said?
Many people read stories before a review.
So flames will still be coming to you.
Besides it's fair to let the girls know
before they view a terrible show.
After all, if you think rape is hot,
then my dear you should be shot."
This chapter is for you, sweetums! Enjoy the slash!
Elita One groaned softly, lifting a hand to rub her noseplates, surprised at finding them a bit tender—though that wasn't surprising, considering she'd just spent the night with her face pressed firmly into a warm male chest. Lifting her head, a grin split her faceplates at the sight that greeted her. Optimus Prime and Ironhide were splayed out on her berth, both deep in recharge, limbs stretched every which way and hands clinging to her curvy form.
The Cybertronian Empress sat up, cooing softly and stroking Optimus's faceplates when he grumbled and tried to tighten the arm around her waist. Ironhide cracked one optic open, boldly caressing her aft as she slid past him.
"Good morning to you, too," she snorted, looking over her shoulder and arching an optic ridge down at him. He merely grunted in reply, lifting his stocky body to wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest and pressing his mouth firmly to the small of her back.
"Ya look so damn good crawlin' outta mah bed," he crooned roughly, nuzzling his face against her warm protoform. Growling, she slapped the hands around her waist, wriggling out of his grasp.
"My bed," she corrected him cheekily, patting his cheekplates when he pouted at her. "Be a dear and wake the others while I go wash up, will you?"
"Ya want some help?" he inquired, waggling his optic ridges at her suggestively.
"Suppose I do," she said thoughtfully, then bypassed him completely to crawl back over the berth and leaning over the remaining male. Lowering her head, she latched her mouthplates around Optimus's throat, suckling and biting him gently until he jerked awake.
"I'm up, milady," he ground out, tipping his head back and gasping thickly at her ministrations. "Though I can't tell you how much I appreciate this…"
"Fantastic. You can pay me back with a wash," Elita replied, bracing herself above him and stealing a quick, smoldering kiss from his delicious mouth before hopping off the berth and striding lightly into her private washracks.
"Best get goin'," Ironhide laughed, swatting Optimus on the aft as he left to awaken their other comrades. Optimus obediently trotted after his mistress into the washracks, body growing hot at the sight of her already lathered up and standing under the flow of the solvent.
"Well?" she inquired, grinning at him smugly, proudly displaying her unarmored form. "Get to work, big mech."
Optimus's optics narrowed, and he considered her for a moment before stepping into the racks, striding up to her and drawing her body firmly to his. She inhaled sharply when his stiff interface rod rubbed at her lower belly, shuddering delicately as his hands dropped to rub gently at her thighs, washing away the evidence of his and Ironhide's incursions into her delicious body the night before.
"You two were good last night," she said breathlessly, shuttering her optics as two naughty fingers pressed up into her well-stretched valve.
"I'm glad," he rumbled, dipping his head to lave his glossa over her throat. "We live to please you, milady."
She wrapped one hand around the back of his neck, spreading her thighs around his hips, quiet gasps turning to short cries as his talented fingers brought her closer and closer to overload. His mouth continued to play at her neck, denta biting sensually before his glossa soothed away the sting. With one hard cry she came, a rush of lubricant coating his fingers. Holding her against him, Optimus dropped his hand to his own spike, shuttering his optics in sheer pleasure as she ground against him.
"Take me," she pled softly against his neckplates, and without hesitation he pushed her up against the wall, the solvent raining down on their slick bodies and aiding his plunge into her wet port. He snarled softly, hoisting her legs around his hips and pinning her with his mass. He pushed in and out of her with hard, shaky thrusts, mad with lust and enchanted by the small mouth teasing his sensitive wiring.
He came with a deep, masculine groan, spike erupting into harsh spurts of transfluid as her walls clamped down on him again, shaky cries leaving her vocalizer as she clung to him. Fingers trembling ever so slightly, she took his jaw in one hand and brought his slack mouthplates to hers, moaning into his passionate kiss.
"Are you satisfied, milady?" he asked quietly, optics burning down at her as they parted, gently removing his interface from her sodden port. She inhaled softly, arching her back and shuttering her optics as he pulled out of her, clenching around him on instinct. Engine purring softly, he knelt before her, spreading her thighs and covering her valve with his mouth.
"Ah! Optimus," she gasped, placing her hands on his head and tipping her helm back against the wall. Her sensitivity faded quickly, and she marveled at how fast the sweet burn returned to her lower body. Optimus's glossa felt impossibly good inside her port, caressing her in the most intimate of ways. Squeals and moans escaped her unbidden, and she positively sobbed when he caught her external node in his lips.
Optics clouded with lust, she looked down at him, the eroticism of the sight prompting another thick gush of lubricant from her port. He licked it all away before continuing, bent on bringing his mistress to climax for a third time. Elita had proven herself to be nearly insatiable, and her males delighted in bringing her to pleasure anyway they could.
Large hand supporting her with endless tenderness, Optimus gently lowered her to the ground, seating her on her aft before burying his face into her intimacy once more, inhaling the heady scent of her arousal. His glossa darted out, tracing the rim of her port before dipping in.
"Frag, frag," she swore, hard pressed to keep her legs open and not clamp her thighs around his head. "Optimus…"
"Tell me how it feels," he breathed, lips moving against her intimacy.
She sobbed softly, shifting her hips closer to him. "Good," she whimpered desperately. "So good, Optimus…"
He laved his glossa against her valve and node, shuddering at his core when she began to pant, chanting his name quietly. His glossa in her port once more was too much, and she came for the third time that morning, crying out sharply when he slung her legs over his shoulders to get a better angle at her valve. He lapped up the sweet nectar between her legs before lifting his head, smiling smugly at the satiated femme.
"There's a good reason you're my favorite," she laughed quietly, reaching out to lovingly trace his handsome faceplates. "Thank you, Optimus."
"I live to please you, milady," he repeated, clasping her around the waist to help her to her feet. Without a word of direction he removed a soft cloth from subspace and set about cleaning her off, meticulously rubbing at the sensitive wiring of her protoform. She tended to him as well, unable to keep from lazily stroking his semi-hard spike until he overloaded again.
They emerged a full three breems later, fully armored and more or less sure they'd managed to clean away all obvious evidence of their activities. The common living area was already bustling with activity: Ironhide had his weaponry scattered all over the table while he washed each individual part almost lovingly; Ratchet was berating Sideswipe for something or other while Sunstreaker preened and waxed on the couch; Jetfire was on his comm. link, one hand over his other audio to block out the racket his fellows were making; Ultra Magnus and Rodimus Prime had taken occupancy of the only free couch and were talking light-heartedly, Rodimus gesturing wildly every so often.
Elita paused in the doorway, leaning against the wall and admiring her harem. Being Empress had its perks, and this definitely topped the list. Being able to pick and choose any male she wanted in her bed at any given time was every femme's dream, and Elita could not only do that but had them practically begging to be her partner.
Optimus left her side to join his comrades, grinning and laughing when they clapped him on the shoulder, greeting him heartily. His position as Elita's favorite earned him no small amount of respect from his fellow mechs.
"Morning, milady," Rodimus greeted her with a purr when she joined he and Ultra Magnus on the couch. Magnus was much more cordial, welcoming her with a gentle kiss to her cheekplate. She petted his strong thigh appreciatively before turning to regard Rodimus with an arched optic ridge.
"Good morning to you too, Rodimus," she replied coolly, and his grin faltered a bit. His looks had earned him a place in Elita's harem, but very few times had it gotten him into her berth. He'd proven himself to be a bit too egotistical for her tastes, and she was far more experienced intimately. She'd found him a little clumsy and too hasty to suit her needs when they interfaced, and she knew he must be feeling neglected by now. Like a kicked technopuppy. She smiled a little at that thought. "What were you up to last night? It was a little loud down at your end."
"Roddy and me had ourselves a little private party," Jetfire drawled, leaning over the back of the couch and smirking, pinching Rodimus's cheekplate. Rodimus growled and slapped him away; last thing he needed Elita to know was that he'd willingly sucked on Jetfire's spike the night before. Or that they'd interfaced violently for several breems afterwards. And some more after that.
"Go easy on the young ones, Jet," Optimus advised, joining them on the couch, settling down next to Ultra Magnus, who snorted at his comment. When Elita had first requested that Optimus join her harem, it had been Ultra Magnus and Ironhide who had introduced him to the headier side of interfacing, having Ratchet retrofit him with a temporary port and showing him what exactly he needed to do to please a femme. Optimus had been sore and tired for days afterwards, but to their credit, he had more than proved himself in bed.
Elita rolled her optics, a little uncomfortable with where the conversation was going. She knew very well that one femme wasn't enough to satiate so many mechs, but she still didn't really want to know what they did to take care of their needs. She didn't allow them to bed other femmes—it would cause countless problems if one of her mechs impregnated some random femme.
"Optimus," she murmured, placing a small hand on his knee and leaning close to him. He turned his head to her, shuttering his optics when she pressed her face to the side of his neck, kissing the junction of his jaw.
"Milady?"
"What would you say to you and Sunstreaker tonight?"
He arched an optic ridge, opening his optics to look down at her. "That's an unusual choice. I didn't think you were fond of Sunstreaker's technique."
"He's a little wild," she acquiesced. "That's why I'd like you to be there…show him how it's done?"
Optimus dipped his head. "Of course, milady. If that's what you'd like."
"It is." Smiling, she leaned closer, hooking a finger under his chin and guiding his mouth to hers. "I just can't seem to get enough of you."
He rumbled softly, opening his mouth obligingly and kissing her intimately. She was just beginning to enjoy the swirl of his glossa when the bell to her door chimed lightly. Hushing her protests, Optimus parted his mouth from hers and rose to his feet, disappearing into the small entrance hall to get the door. Elita pouted, punching Magnus's shoulder when he laughed at her.
A resounding crash from the entrance hall got the attention of every mech in the room. The sounds of a scuffle prompted Ironhide and Ratchet to pick up their firearms, crowding by the doorway and peeking in cautiously.
"False alarm," Ironhide chuckled, beckoning Elita over with warm optics. She strode to meet them, curious, and squealed at the sight that greeted her.
Optimus was pinned to the ground beneath a larger mech, looking both disgruntled and pleased. The mech straddling him was none other than Megatron, his handsome grin fiendish as he looked down at his twin and longtime lover.
"You yield?" he purred.
"No," Optimus growled at him.
Megatron smirked and ground his groin against his brother's, delighting in Optimus's moan at the raw contact. "How about now?"
"Let him up, Megatron," Elita scolded good-naturedly, beaming when Megatron's head snapped up at the sound of her voice. He clambered off of Optimus, moving past Ratchet and Ironhide to pull his Empress into his arms, showering her faceplates with kisses before pulling her mouth firmly against his own.
"I missed you terribly, milady," he said sweetly when they parted, running his blunt fingertips down the side of her face.
"I missed you as well," she murmured, kissing his chin gently. "It seems you've been gone forever."
"Not long enough, if you ask me," Rodimus drawled from the couch. The others guffawed, and Megatron lifted an optic ridge.
"Is that so, Roddy? Needed more time to learn how to properly satisfy her ladyship in bed?"
Rodimus's faceplates darkened with embarrassment, a growl escaping him while the others laughed. Elita decided to intervene before her males got too rowdy, taking Megatron's hand and tugging him toward her room.
"Come on, Megatron, tell me how you've been. Optimus, you come too."
The twins could only oblige her, making playful swipes at one another as they followed her back into the residential area. Both were surprised when she surpassed her berthroom, smiling and taking them both by the hands, leading them into the little used room at the end of the hallway. Optimus's optics darkened with lust, though Megatron appeared confused.
"We added it since you've been away," Elita explained, keying in her personal code and stepping back to admit them when the doors opened. "Our rooms were starting to reek of ozone, if you know what I mean."
"I see," Megatron replied, his intakes clicking into slightly higher gear as he looked around the room. In its center was an immense circular berth, decorated with soft blankets and large cushions and draped with nearly transparent silks that hung from the ceiling. Small candles were littered across the floor, kept artificially lit by an electric conduit beneath the floor. There was a shelf in the far left corner, full of datapads and holocubes and several boxes. Megatron approached it and lifted a box gingerly, removing the lid to peer inside. He wasn't at all surprised to see a very scandalous looking interface toy within.
"And the purpose of this room would be for…?"
"Interfacing, of course," she purred, placing a hand on his wrist and turning him to face her, appraising the boyishly handsome faceplates and deep blue optics. "Love-making, more specifically. Sometimes I want something a little more special, you know?"
"Who has had the honor of joining you here?"
"Just me," Optimus answered smugly, wrapping both arms around Elita's waist from behind and pulling her into him, purring into her audio when she squealed in delight. His gaze lifted to meet his brother's, full of challenge. "And now you, it would seem."
"So it would," Megatron replied silkily, optics narrowing. Challenge received, brother. He extended a hand to Elita, a little put off when she looked sheepish.
"I've overloaded three times this morning," she admitted shyly, patting the large blue hands resting on her abdomen, "thanks to this lug here. Maybe you two could entertain yourselves to get me back in the mood?"
Megatron arched an optic ridge and looked at Optimus questioning. Optimus met his gaze steadily, transmitting to him over their sibling bond.
I'm up for it. Optimus shifted his weight a little, suddenly looking shy. It's been a long time since you took me…
Megatron barely suppressed a shudder, optics shamelessly roving over the body of the only mech he'd ever wanted. You look good, Optimus. What do you have these days?
Ironhide and Ratchet wanted to play around a few orns ago, so I've got a temp port. Feels a little tight for my liking. He flashed his twin a smile, and Megatron nodding, looking down at Elita.
"Alright. Please make yourself comfortable, milady." Elita nodded eagerly, slipping out of Optimus's arms to seat herself comfortably on the love seat directly across from the berth. Megatron looked back at his twin, stepping closer and running his fingers down Optimus's arm. The Prime's lips parted, optics darkening. The sweetest of moans escaped him as Megatron closed the distance between them, kissing his brother with a harsh lust.
"On the berth," he demanded huskily. Optimus complied, stretching himself out on his back and removing his crotchplate, shuddering when cool air met with already sensitive circuitry. Meanwhile, Megatron turned back to the shelf, pursing his lips as he began to hunt through boxes. He wanted something that would make this particularly enjoyable for both of them.
He smirked when he made a good find, placing his treasure back within its box before carrying it and himself to the large berth. As aware as he was of Elita's optics on them, Megatron found that he had optics only for Optimus. Resting the box on the side of the berth, he eased himself on gently, kneeling near Optimus's legs, regarding his twin with open, raging lust.
Optimus shifted to lean up against the cushions as Megatron approached, opening his legs and groaning when Megatron swiftly moved a knee between the heated thighs. Megatron examined his brother carefully, trailing his fingertips over the softly swollen lips to the sensitive chest, already practically moving like a bellows with anticipation for their joining. Megatron's gaze heated as he turned it further and further downward. Optimus had left his spike retracted and covered, leaving only the temp port bare for his brother to use freely.
"Looks tight," Megatron commented, lowering one hand to his brother's intimacy. Optimus inhaled sharply, lifting his hips happily up into that hot touch when Megatron's finger traced the rim of the port. "Thought Ironhide and Ratchet used it?"
"They were going to," Optimus drawled, tipping his head back as an excited ripple spread through him. "They got called off that afternoon, though. I thought I'd save it for you…"
Megatron growled softly, appreciating the sentiment. Temp ports were easily retrofitted but destructed easily, and were generally used by mech couples for special nights; Megatron doubted he'd be able to take Optimus more than two or three times, but it would be enough. They still had Elita to take care of, after all.
"Want to see how tight you really are?" Megatron purred, reaching for the box and removing the bottle within. Optimus took it from him, smiling as he read the label.
"Edible lubricant? Are you serious?"
"Completely. I've used it before. It's made from refined high grade. And the tingle…" he trailed off, admiring the lithe body spread beneath him as Optimus shivered.
"Get to work, then," Optimus replied, the request issuing past his lips like a whispered caress. Megatron dipped his head obligingly, uncapping the lube and spreading it liberally over his fingers. He allowed Optimus a taste before lowering his hand. Gently, aware of just how painful it could be for a new port to be invaded, he dipped his fingers past the rim, coating the immediate inner walls with the lubricant. Captured by a naughty idea, he removed his fingers and instead inserted the opening of the tube.
The Prime collapsed back against the berth, a soft keening noise escaping him as Megatron squeezed the contents of the tube directly into his port. "Primus…" He shuddered powerfully, hips writhing at the delicious tingle that erupted within his port. "That's good…"
"I'm glad." Megatron smiled, swirling the tip of the tube around his twin's port absently, spreading the lube around. "Tell me how it feels…"
"Like having your transfluid spill inside me," Optimus purred. Megatron released a low, predatory snarl, spreading Optimus's thighs and removing his crotchplate. His spike extended at full attention, swollen and hard. Optimus eyed it appreciatively, reaching forward to take it in his hand, giving his brother a few rough pulls and caresses before Megatron pushed him back onto the berth.
"Keep your legs open," he commanded breathily, settling onto his knees and gripping Optimus's hips. At his brother's nod, Megatron pulled the Prime's aft and hips into his lap, holding the arching body off the berth at an angle. Their port and spike were flush with one another, the sensitive equipment making brushing contact, igniting them both.
"Try it out," Optimus breathed, gyrating his hips toward his brother's hard spike. "Little warm-up…"
Megatron didn't respond, instead maneuvering Optimus's hips onto the spike waiting eagerly for their warm embrace. Slowly, he pushed into his twin, grunting at the tight fit, gripping Optimus's thighs to forcibly pull their groins flush together. Optimus began to cry out at once, his breathless sobs escalating until Megatron was fully seated within him. There was a soft squelching sound as Megatron situated himself, lubricant dribbling out from the junction of their bodies, coating the inside of Optimus's thighs.
"You always were a fantastic fuck," Megatron complimented his twin, rubbing Optimus's aft appreciatively. The temp port was far too tight to let him move yet, but it felt wonderful having that vice-like clamp down on his member.
"Frag. Primus. Frag," Optimus moaned, tossing his head back and forth against the cushions. Megatron's spike was impossibly heavy and dense within him, stretching his very core. Shocks of pleasure jolted through him as he began to clench his port walls against the pulsating member, wild pants tearing from his vocalizer as he all but pleasured himself on Megatron's spike.
"You'll make yourself come," Megatron chuckled, rubbing his brother's thighs gently. "Calm down…"
"Can't…feels good…" Optimus moaned out, tightening his thighs around Megatron's hips. "Please…please…"
"Make it last," Megatron crooned, ignoring his brother's whine of protest as he began to remove his spike, inching himself out of the impossibly tight port. His spike finally squeezed out with a gush of lubricants and a faint popping sound. Optimus's hips made a desperate jump into the air, craving something to move against, and the Prime sighed in delight when Megatron took pity on him and gently inserted a finger into the sodden port.
"Megatron," Optimus snarled, gripping his brother's shoulders, fingers leaving dents in the heavy armor.
"You'll snap in half if I go now," Megatron growled, dipping his head to plant a rough bite at the base of the Prime's throat. Nonetheless, he upped the movement of his finger within Optimus's port, adding a second when it stretched a little to accept the brisk invasion.
"You underestimate me chronically, brother," Optimus murmured, thrusting back against Megatron's hand.
"Only because you chronically fail to prove me wrong," Megatron breathed, his voice and lips silken against Prime's audio receptor. A third finger joined its comrades within Prime's port, and Optimus gasped as he felt the first shuddering waves of overload blossom deep within him. Megatron bit the underside of his brother's jaw, capturing Optimus's mouth with his own when the Prime tilted his chin back with a grunt.
They kissed fiercely, a heady reunion of glossa and denta between the occasional caress of lips. Optimus shuttered his optics, accepting the violence in that kiss, welcoming it, even. He could taste feral passion on Megatron's lips, desperate, wild want, but he willed himself to react in moderation. It wouldn't do to let Megatron know just how much his twin craved the ferocious dance of their mouths.
The softest of wanton moans escaped the Prime as he felt the head of Megatron's rod stretch his port, both pairs of hips shifting eagerly when the artificial lubricant reacted to the friction between them, igniting a sweet tingle at the intimate junction of their bodies.
"Tight," Megatron grunted, wrapping his arms around Optimus's waist. Optimus allowed himself to be pulled upright until he was all but seated in Megatron's lap, thighs draped over his brother's, their groins brought flush together. Megatron panted unsteadily, one hand gripping Optimus's hip while the other clutched his aft, lowering and raising his lover upon his stiff rod in careful, measured strokes. Optimus lost the will to aid in their love making, content to relax against Megatron's frame and enjoy the brisk, heady plunging of his rod.
"Help me out, you fragger," Megatron snarled, leaving a rough bite on Optimus's shoulder.
"Just a second," Optimus breathed, shuttering his optics tightly. "I can't…" He shuddered powerfully, body going taut with impending overload. Megatron made a low noise of acknowledgement, soothing the sting of his bite with his glossa, delighting in Optimus's breathy moans as he mouthed the sensitive circuitry of his lover's throat.
Optimus choked, his vocalizer shorting out, and Megatron grinned when he felt that tight port clamp down upon him. He deliberately slowed the pace of his hips, maneuvering Optimus's aft closer to him. He made the last strokes count, going as deep as he could, gyrating his hips gently into each thrust. He counted off one, two, three impossibly deep plunges before Optimus shuddered into climax, nearly soundless sobs escaping him as he arched and ground against his twin, scratching several long tracks of paint from Megatron's upper arms.
His overload had scarcely faded when Optimus pushed against his brother, forcing Megatron flat on his back, hissing when the still-stiff rod moved within his port.
"Optimus…" Megatron's growl led handsomely into a groan when Optimus began to move against him, running his hands over his twin's broad chestplates while moving his hips up and down, taking control of their love making.
"Hush," Optimus murmured, leaning down to leave a tender bite at Megatron's throat. He gripped his brother's chest, pinning him gently, bringing their hips flush with every thrust before withdrawing. The slick friction was other worldly, leaving both immense mechs panting. Optimus's thighs clenched around his brother's hips, bringing their bodies close, leaving no space between them.
"Kiss me," Megatron mumbled, one shaking hand lifting to grip Optimus's audio finial. "Optimus…"
The Prime complied at once, cupping Megatron's jaw before bringing their mouths together. They kissed gently this time, mating lips and glossa with real passion. Megatron released a soft, shuddering moan as he hit his overload at last, gripping his brother tightly and thrusting desperately into him, transfluid filling Optimus's port to full capacity before spilling out between their entwined bodies. Optimus broke their mouths apart reluctantly, idly kissing a path down Megatron's throat while his brother desperately cycled fresh air in and out of his vents to cool down.
"Well?" Prime murmured at length, impulsively licking the seam of Megatron's chestplate—oh, how he'd love to merge right now—before lifting his head, impossibly blue optics watching his twin quizzically.
"Fantastic," Megatron groaned, whining in disappointment when Optimus lifted his sodden port from the Protectorate's spike. "Frag you, Optimus. You're better every time."
"I think you're done fragging me for the time being," Optimus chuckled, laying one last touch to Megatron's mouth with his own before sitting up, grimacing when a mixture of lubricant and transfluid spilled from his port. "Frag. What a mess."
"Just cover it up," Megatron drawled, waving a hand dismissively, choosing to stay flat out on his back rather than attempt to get up, letting the last of his overload buzz through his circuits uninterrupted. "We have more important things to attend to."
Optimus got to his feet, the covering of his port sliding back into place with a soft snick. Rolling his shoulders and arching his back to shake out any tiring 'afterglow,' he turned on his heel, smirking handsomely at the femme on the couch opposite him. Forgotten while the brothers made love, Elita was watching her favorite mech with rapt optics, faceplates flushed darkly, temperatures running uncomfortably high for a femme who hadn't yet been touched by her male.
"Get over here," she said hoarsely, and Optimus complied at once, long legs carrying him in smooth strides to his mistress. He lifted her into his arms without a word, smiling when her mouth latched hungrily onto his neck, already marked by Megatron's demanding bites.
"Apologies, my lady, for leaving you unattended," he murmured, lowering her onto the berth and running the backs of his fingers down her stunning faceplate. Something impossibly warm erupted in his spark when she looked at him, plaintive and pleading, leaving him almost breathless at her beauty.
"Don't take her all for yourself, brother," Megatron growled, latching a hand around his twin's scruffbar and dragging the yelping Prime backwards. "I've just gotten back, remember?"
Optimus grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, watching jealously as Megatron situated himself over his mistress. She grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down to mesh their mouths together. Megatron kissed differently than Optimus, his kisses rough and deep as opposed to his brother's tender, light caresses. Elita, however, was hardly going to complain about the change of pace.
"Come here, Optimus," she murmured, breaking her mouth free of her lover's and reaching a hand out to her Prime. He hesitated before accepting it, allowing himself to be pulled against the two bots he loved more than anything else in the universe.
I love vaguely incestuous mech-mech action.
If you want more slash, be a flamer. I'll be forced to pee on you to put you out, but it'll get me writing!
If you want more in general, leave a nice review for Plenoptic :D