Hearts Desire

Authors Note: Glad you guys like it! Plenoptic, sit down, put away the stick and turn the capslock off, silly! LOL

Chapter Two

Optimus Prime and Ironhide loomed over Elita One with their crotch plates open and seriously hard erections just waiting to be used for her pleasure.

The sight of both males in such an excited state and at her service had the spark in Elita's chest pulsing so hard she put a hand to her chest in concern. She had to admit that she was a teeny bit uneasy with what Ironhide might do. Yes, she wanted to help him, yes, she was the one to bring up the whole idea BUT – she knew that Ironhide's reputation as a hardcore interfacer was a worry on her CPU. Her Optimus was a gentle giant with a spark as big as the sun but he had only been with a handful of femmes in his life and hadn't been exposed to very many interfacing techniques. Ironhide was much more experienced, he'd been with too many femmes to ever attempt to count, and he was very open about that. She was going to be relying on Optimus to pull the black mech back if he did something she wasn't enjoying.

Prime glanced at Ironhide and back at his femme. "Elita, I think setting some rules for this would put you at ease. We don't want to overwhelm you too much. Don't you agree, Ironhide?"

Ironhide didn't reply. The black mech was busy staring at Elita's incredible rose-colored body and her open, moist, femme port. He hadn't seen one for so long he couldn't take his optics off it. The end of his spike twitched with eagerness. For him this was a serious turn-on, just looking at her made him want to slide his hands up his spike and jerk until he emitted transfluid all over his front . Having the opportunity to take the Femme Commander on her own berth was a mechs dream come true. All of the femmes wanted Optimus on their berth – it was common fantasy - and the same could be said about Elita for the mechs. She was forbidden territory.

Not this night... not for him!

Getting tired of waiting for a response from his officer, Optimus lifted a hand and smacked him in the back of the head with a clang.

Ironhide jerked from his musing over the femme wantonly spread out in front of him and glared at him, bringing up his hands, "What?!"

"We need a safe word for Elita to use if she wants us to stop," Optimus stated, his broad shoulders up and stiffened in a gesture of 'listen up'.

'Hide's optics darkened, his mouthplates forming the best pout they could muster, "...why would she want us to stop?"

Prime drew a hand over his noseplates and sighed, then looked up at his mate, "Elita, just say the word 'reboot' if you desire us to pull back and cease activities." He pointed one thick silver finger at Ironhide, "Especially him."

Elita nodded. She couldn't take anything they said that seriously when they were essentially naked and their spikes were in a comical position for their anatomy – straight up. She sat up on her elbows, wondering who was going first. Having experienced many times what Prime's silver spike felt like, she was curious to have Ironhide inside of her. Optimus certainly had the bigger dimensions, but Ironhide's darker colored spike wasn't far behind. The differences she could see amounted to Ironhide's spike having a fatter 'head', and his length curved slightly to the right, whereas Optimus was perfectly straight, and the thickness of his rod very nearly matched the thickness at the head of his spike so it was not as pronounced.

"Who is going first?" she asked, blinking her optics at them.

Optimus initiated a rapid communication with his Weapons Specialist. ::Are you up for a little experimentation, Ironhide?::

::What are you up to?::

::Both of us, together. Me in front, you behind. I'll prepare her, you just keep your wandering hands to yourself until I signal you. Yes or no?::

::Can Elita handle that?::

::Of course. I've used her other entrance before, she enjoys it. I'm not into it that much but you can if you wish to. It should surprise her::

::You sneaky slagger. Does Magnus know how perverted you are? Mission accepted. Get going.::

Optimus – her gorgeous, sweet and playful mech – surprised her with his response.

"Both of us..." he practically purred. Dropping his head down, he pressed his mouthplates briefly to her forehead, then put two fingers under her chin and lifted her head up to look him in the optics. "Sit back and overload to your sparks content, my love." So saying, he motioned her to lie down flat and spread her legs so he could kneel between her splayed thighs.

The berth underneath the threesome groaned and creaked at the weight of the two mechs getting into position. Elita didn't have any idea where Ironhide was going. He moved around Prime's bulk to come up close to her head, then kneeled so his weight was positioned back on his heels. His hands went to his own spike, rubbing and playing openly with himself. He had no qualms about touching himself in front of another mech, obviously.

"Go ahead, Optimus," he rumbled.

Optimus Prime surveyed his femme. A medic couldn't get a better view than he had at the moment. Ratchet would be proud. Her legs were drawn up at the knees and situated wide apart on either side of his hips, her port was open and glossy with lubricating fluid, her optics soft with a pert expression of need for him... just perfect. Keeping his blue optics on hers, Prime covered her port with the palm of one hand, rubbing over her most intimate entrance. She murmured quietly at him, pushing her hips up to his touch.

Moving smoothly, the Autobot Commander stopped rubbing. Using one hand, he touched the lips of her port and pressed them open, showing the 'hole' where his spike was eager to go. With his other hand, he inserted one finger and felt around. His optics blazed hot for a moment at the jerk of her body and her knees squeezing shut against his hip armor. He turned his finger over and rubbed the roof of her port without going too far in, a rumble of pleasure coming from his chest when she cheekily squeezed the length of his finger with her inner cables. She tried to grab his hand and forcefully shove him in further but her strength couldn't get him to budge.

"Optimus..." she pleaded.

"No, Elita, just wait. Wait..." he said soothingly, "I'll be in here soon."

Another finger joined the one inside of her, beginning to stretch her delightedly. Anything of his he put into her was always more than welcome.

Elita dropped her head back and writhed on the berth while pumping her hips. Wanting more. She wanted him deeper. She wanted him between her legs and driving hard enough to make her scream. Fluid was beginning to drip out from her port with excitement. Prime's fingers down to his palm were covered with it.

Optimus put three fingers inside of her and began thrusting his hand in small movements, watching her reaction and analysing how revved up she was. She arched and quivered for him. He nodded to himself.

Ironhide was fascinated at this insight into what the fabled Autobot Commander was like when he pleasured a femme. He'd thought Optimus would get on top, thrust away until Elita overloaded, climax himself into her, and that would be that. He had under-estimated Prime's inventiveness and imagination. It was not as if his spike wasn't ready to go. The thick organ was quivering with need and Prime was shifting his weight about on his knees. Getting restless.

Once again, Optimus turned his fingers over so he could touch the ceiling of her port. With his other hand, he pressed into a space between her armor and her protoform over her lower belly above her port, getting the fingers on her outer skin to press against the fingers inside her port through her abdomen. He looked for all the world like a bigger, red-and-blue version of Ratchet doing an exam on a femme.

Elita shrieked when he hit a certain spot inside of her with his finger. Her hips hovered in the air and pushed back at him frantically, her chest rising from the bed. Fingers that had become claws scraped against the recharge berth and her mate's powerful thighs. "Please!"

"Wait, Lita, don't you dare, don't come yet, make it last," Prime encouraged her firmly, his voice betraying nothing of the fact that his spike was dribbling pre-transfluid down his length and desperate to climax. He quickly removed one hand from her to rub over his twitching spike and squeeze the end. For a second he froze, bowing his helmeted head, faceplates grimacing. He was close to releasing himself. Using his forefinger and his thumb, he squeezed harshly under the ridged tip and waited for a few moments until the overwhelming sensation to spill his transfluid died down a fraction.

Ironhide watched with narrowed optics, keeping one of his hands working roughly at his own spike. He had thought that Optimus was too shy to touch or fondle himself in front of him. He'd been wrong. Or maybe the big mech was just getting desperate... that spike of his looked like it could use three hands to attend to it, not one. It was amazing the thing could stay upright at all. He had seen mechs with spikes too big to stand erect without a prominent bend in the middle.

"Keep her chest down, Ironhide," Prime rumbled, sending him a sharp look.

"Got it," Ironhide grinned, dropping one hand over her chest and keeping her flat. Even in the midst of heavy arousal Optimus could still hand out the orders. His spike poked into Elita's shoulder and he encouraged that contact. She was becoming frantic. "What, er, are you doing down there? She's manic!"

Optimus cocked an optic ridge at him, "Femmes have a pleasure node inside of their port-"

"Well, duh."

"Shut it, 'Hide. The node – Elita, stay still! Wriggling femme! - can be overstimulated by pressing on her protoform from above and using one finger inside her port from underneath. If you can find it and trap it between two fingers... you, uh, can see the results..." Now Prime really was gritting his jaw and trying to stay calm. His spike was actively dripping now.

Oh yeah. Ironhide could see it. The femme was spasming in front of him. Her hands grabbed and scratched at the mech manipulating her body. Thumps of metal armor colliding with Prime's own metal told Ironhide she was drumming her heels into the stoic Commander's sides. While her body was almost exploding with movement, Optimus's bigger body was patiently taking whatever punishment she could deal out to it. All this just to please her. Ironhide had to admire such fortitude.

In a movement that startled Elita, Optimus inserted a surprise probing finger into her rear port while keeping up the thrusting of his other hand into her main port. He moved in and out gently, getting her to groan. She now had an inkling of what was coming.

Abruptly, Optimus abandoned both of her ports and placed his hands on her thighs, keeping them apart for him. He shuffled his crotch closer to her. Ironhide watched with rapt optics full of lust. Prime lowered his spike to rub it up and down the slit where her port was housed. He was teasing her. Testing her readiness to receive what he had to offer.

Elita keened and struggled against him, her armor flashing as she moved. The pleasure was maddening. She wanted to grab Prime by his spike and shove him inside her far enough to end up in her throat. "Optimus... I need you! NOW!"

Her mate's optics flashed, "Then you shall have me."

He swiftly lifted her up over his kneeling legs and held her against his chest. "Easy... I'm here, just wait for me... it's coming..."

She whimpered and pushed her face into his shoulder. Her arms hugged around his neck, her tense hips struggling to sit down and sheath his spike within her port. He was resolute in keeping her weeping port above his spike and out of her grasp. She planted her mouthplates on his shoulder strut and bit down – hard. "Let me down, slag it! STUFF THE WAITING~!"

Optimus wince, a shiver running up his flame-decorated body at her biting into his shoulder cables. He didn't waver from his plan though. Just the same as battlefield tactics, plans were to be followed, regardless of rabid femmes heaving themselves over your rigid spike and attacking your shoulder like a sharkticon. ::Ironhide, lubricate yourself up and get behind her.::

With a grunt of 'Finally!', the other mech got behind Elita on his knees, his rigid spike swaying with his movements. He dipped his fingers into Elita's gaping port and scooped out two fingers full of her discharge, then covered his spike with it. His optics met Prime's over the top of the struggling femme. With a nod, he settled his hands on Elita's shaking hips. Ready.

Holding his beloved sparkmate up with one hand, Optimus grasped his spike with his other hand and lowered Elita enough so he could aim where he wanted to go. Ironhide did likewise at Elita's back, except he was aiming for a completely different port. Her rear entrance.

::Together. One, two, THREE!::

Optimus let Elita go and slipped inside of her in one smooth move. Ironhide was a bit slower, he had a tighter entrance to conquer. The result was a strangled scream of delight from the impaled Femme Commander.

"Go, go! She won't last...!" Optimus panted, his hips on a mission. It was awkward keeping his femme in the middle of them but they were doing it. The pleasure was intoxicating. He groaned, "Primus, I won't either!"

Optimus had never done a double penetration before. Elita was clutching at his chest armor with her head hanging back and her slender throat exposed to him. He could feel the movement of Ironhide's spike thrusting into his femme, his bulk was narrowing the space Optimus had to work with in Elita's primary port. It was the most extraordinary sensation. Naughty. This was the kind of thing he'd seen on underground interfacing databytes from the more illegal sectors of Cybertron, and the humans were fond of it as well. He'd done his share of ogling the mating Earthlings on the World Wide Web.

When Elita intensely overloaded and hit her peak moments later, she no longer had the voice to scream. Her mouthplates opened soundlessly with her head flung back against Ironhide's heaving chest and her hands gripping Optimus' chest armor in a death grip. Her body jerked and writhed on his spike. The mechs kept her going with repeated thrusting. They had gotten into a rhythm where one entered while the other withdrew.

"Ahhh... SLAG~!" Optimus joined her, his body rocked with spasmodic waves of pleasure centred around his spike buried within his overloading femme. He kept hunching into her until transfluid stopped coming out from his spewing spike. This overload was the most intense he'd experienced for a while. He dropped his head down onto her shoulder with a groan, clutching her body to his own. The whole naughty idea of letting another mech into his berth with Elita was something he wanted to repeat – but it was unlikely they'd find another mech they both thought was acceptable. And private.

"Hold her!" Ironhide said in a strangled moan, pushing Elita forward and onto Prime's chest, while he bent over her back and started pumping lewdly with his hips.

Optimus rubbed one hand up and down Elita's back and watched Ironhide take his pleasure. She had turned her face into his chest between his split windscreen and was making happy whimpering sounds. His sagging length was still inside Elita's port, he could feel Ironhide's bulging spike moving up and down.

When the black mech finally finished, holding himself upright on wide trembling thighs, he rubbed his hands over her back. "You, ugh, you okay, Lita?"

A muffled 'yes,' came back at him, followed by a chuckle.

"Good." Ironhide planted a kiss onto the top of her head and gently pulled his hips backwards. Elita arched her back up and clenched her port around him on reflex when he removed himself from her. He sat back on his aft and stretched his thick black legs out untidily. Optimus watched him take his slowly deflating spike in one hand and rub it up and down, soothing it.

Optimus shook his head and hugged his femme to him. He softly brushed the back of his hand over her cheekplates, "Did you enjoy that?"

Elita pulled herself up higher against him – causing his limp spike to disengage from her port - and rubbed her noseplates against his playfully, ending it with a lingering kiss. Her optics blazed at him. "Oh yes. It doesn't get much better than that. You're good, Optimus, you really are. Thank you." She looked at Ironhide over her shoulder and winked one optic. "Both of you."

"Welcome," Ironhide rumbled, finishing rubbing himself off and retracting his used spike back into its housing in his groin. "Now go find yourselves another berth, you two, I'm claiming this one for me tonight." So saying, he lay himself down on his back and settled into a comfortable position, scratching at his chest armor and grunting.

Optimus looked at the beautiful femme sitting in his lap and lifted his optic ridges. "I could shove my rifle up his aft..."

"No, don't do that," she patted his cheekplates with one hand, smiling, "shoving him over the edge will do. We've done enough aft reaming for tonight, don't you think?"

Always attuned to the commands of his femme, Prime lifted one long armored leg, braced his foot against Ironhide's hip and pushed. Hard. His legs were stronger than his arms, which was saying something. Ironhide was moving sideways before he knew what was going on. He landed over the side of the berth with a ground-shaking crash and a high-pitched yell.

"SLAGGER!"

"Good night, Ironhide."