Blaster/Jazz - Playing at Work
"Alright, bots...wherever you are out there, mm, just a-a reminder to keep one for the team. Now, without further ado, let's have a little melody from DJ Dinobot called 'Siren Song.' Divindiva, my friend, hit it, girl."
Blaster played the song and reached over to turn off his mic. As soon as he did, he collapsed his faceplates onto the table with a strong hitch in his personal audio track his spark was synced to and dragged his servo back. Eventually, he had to lean all the way back into his chair and acknowledge the elephant in the room. The song was broadcasted not just to Autobots and Decepticons alike but in the booth as well. It masked the glossa digging into him.
He peered down hot and bothered to feel Jazz forcing his valve apart with both servos and diving in glossa first to press his mouth flush against it. Blaster repeatedly gasped and bucked at the frantic assault on his valve. Hitting the table a few times with an open servo, he shot his helm back as a heavy overload struck him. He let out a several grunts and shivered as Jazz just kept eating him out uncaring of his reaction.
The song was about to end and he was holding Jazz's helm to keep him locked onto his valve. He finally had to let go and shakily turned on his mic.
"A-And there you have it. Next up..." he had to give an awkward silent pause to cling to the table and resist a loud moan. He collected himself again and said, "'Pearlescent' by...R-Revver."
He quickly turned off the mic and let the song play before shooting back against his seat with Jazz suckling on his valve. It wasn't long until he yelling out a storm. The people listening to the song were completely oblivious to their DJ being eaten out. In the middle of the song, Blaster had another overload and Jazz released him licking his lips.
"You did good there, Blaster."
"Jazz...I'm going to kill you," he breathed hard.
Jazz laughed, "After that, I think you'd rather keep me around a little longer."
TFA Shockwave/Ultra Magnus - Voyeurism
Shockwave was never one for spying into personal endeavors but this was one he couldn't pass up no matter what his task was. As Longarm Prime, he had access to everyone's dirty secrets and seeing his commander playing with his valve while facing the one-way viewing windows was quite intriguing. He never knew Ultra was this perverted.
The commander sat on the floor of the private room Shockwave had snuck into for information in its library and had to hide when he had unwanted company. Never in millions of years would he have suspected the Autobot Supreme Leader held a secret flare for risk-taking. They could see the bots moving about in their day-to-day activities but the populace just outside the window was oblivious to their leader making a mess on the floor observing them with digits sunk deep into a leaking valve.
Shockwave watched the pink-tinted lubricant drip down the folds of the valve and grew enamored with the thought of sticking his spike into the commander to cover it with that same substance gone to waste. He would put Ultra's body to good use if given the chance. He brought out his spike and pumped it in tandem with the hard fingering Ultra was giving himself.
There was a mech right in front of Ultra, a burly bot who looked like they would have a large member capable of splitting both of them in half. Shockwave saw the appeal Ultra had as the latter was eyeing the mech's chassis and pumping his valve dry of fluids at a rapid pace.
It was hard for Shockwave to keep up without causing a burn mark on his appendage. Ultra's cries of rising pleasure were enlightening to say the least. Shockwave came just after Ultra did, and the Autobot Commander moaned loud since he didn't have to worry about anyone hearing him. The window he was in front of had droplets of lubricant on the lower base of it.
Shockwave leaned against a table recovering from his quick overload and watched Ultra play with himself a little longer before being called away. He cleaned up and left shortly after. It took half an hour but Shockwave would rather wait than risk being discovered sneaking out. It turns out after Ultra left, there was evidence this room had seen plenty of use before so this wasn't the Magnus' first visit. That made Shockwave smirk and plant a hidden camera in the room so he would have something to blackmail the mech with just in case.
His fellow Decepticons would get a kick out of this...
TFP Knockout/Orion Pax - Blowjob
Knockout walked into Orion Pax's station where Megatron had him decoding the Iacon Database and nonchalantly looked over the mech with a whistle. He then leaned against the console board which distracted the amnesiac Prime taken aback by his presence.
"Sweet rims, big boy. Anything else you're packing that's heavy duty?"
Orion Pax looked at him uncertain. "I...fail to grasp your meaning."
"Tell you what, I'll let you have a quick break and make it worth your time. I can explain it easier by showing you."
The uncertainty made Knockout grin and it didn't take long for him to coax Orion into a false sense of security. Within a few minutes, he had his helm bobbing on a decent proportioned spike. Seeing the great Optimus Prime reduced to a noisy virgin was the icing on the oil cake. Obviously, Orion had no idea his counterpart was no such thing.
The spike was hard to take fully but Knockout had the experience to do it. He set a pace and tasted the prefluid building up with a humorous hum. He turned his helm to see if he could slide the appendage deeper to the hilt. Orion clung back against the console with a whimper as Knockout worked his magic.
The spike was dragged out against his glossa as he gave Orion a seductive expression, gripping the latter's thighs when he took it back into his mouth again. With a grunt and Orion's tense cry, transfluid shot into the back of his throat and he swallowed it with an innocent purr. A few strands had escaped from the sides of his mouth but Knockout didn't wipe them away. He let Orion see him as the slut he was.
"Good boy. Now, want to see what I have beneath my panel?"
Orion stared at him with a blush and, dare he read correctly, a desire of more. Knockout just used his thumb to wipe down his glossa with a wink when Orion slowly nodded. When he revealed himself, Orion's optics lit up like a horny new adult frame. Perfect.
Solus Prime/Onyx Prime – Breeding Kink
She had learned that Onyx was far more sensitive to scents than any other cybernetic being. The animal in him reacted aggressively on the instincts which put no room for argument. When it came to affairs of interface, Solus used that to her advantage. If his four orange optics saw an open valve or a spike, his first instinct was to investigate. He mostly liked using his spike so if he had an opening after getting the scent of a displayed valve, his animalistic side would try and mount anyone with a valve available to try and breed.
Solus, however, liked this side of him. He wasn't afraid of showing his dominance and that's why whenever she wanted a nice, hard frag, she simply began walking around with her valve exposed around him. It also turned her on that he was trying to stuff her full of beastformer pups. Even though that required an extra step of spark bonding, the prospect and execution was the best part of it.
Solus had her valve out now and casually rubbed her exterior node and folds to begin stimulating it to release lubricant in preparation. She did it in the middle of the room as locked her optics on him. Onyx wasn't looking at her, but he grew fidgety and had his barbed spine raised, tail whipping, and wings shivering with a deadly grunt while sensing the air. His centaur body stomped its hooves irritably. Then his optics landed on her, not that of her fellow Prime but of a dangerous beast that was in the mood to take by any means necessary.
Solus smiled and started to walk away towards a corner of the room, and Onyx began trailing her with ragged, brutal breaths. She reached a horizontal row of metal beams used to place various belongings to instead house her to feel like she was being offered as a breeding mare. She straddled two of the bars and leaned over to display her valve for Onyx to inspect. The needy stallion loudly sniffed and growled, raising upright before coming close to her, close enough to mount at any second.
Suddenly, Onyx reared and his front legs went over her clutch the bars by the sides. The clawed servos grabbed an overhanging bar to steady himself. His spike came out and she watched it curve to touch her valve before he forced it in. Solus was so used to the harsh treatment, there was hardly any pain. The unpaced, rough jolts that were the equivalent of thrusts had her bucking back with drawn out pleasurably grunts.
The spike pushed into her gestation chamber. She was ready to be bred. Onyx didn't overload like other bots. Instead, he abruptly filled her that made a wave of arousal hit her but not bring her to a finish. She expected that. Her valve leaked of his transfluid and she reached back to open it wide as another invitation. Onyx had jumped off once done for that round and rowdily paced near her. He could go several rounds easy. She just needed to keep bribing him to do it.
When he sensed her arousal still, Onyx snorted before raising up again. The spike never was gentle. Each time he filled her, Solus palmed her abdomen and arched. Her gestation chamber was bloated. It helped her achieve her excitement and the spike breaching her when stuffed caused overload after overload. She went four hard overloads in and knew he could still go a few more times if she let him.
A part of her debated whether or not she would one day let him spark bond with her, fill her with pups. She would have already had several litters by now, but it was probably better to pretend she was so close to carrying to make Onyx try harder each time. The beast would never be satisfied, and that's what Solus wanted.
Megatron/Arcee/Glyph - Sex Slaves
The warlord stood by the windows of his private office overlooking the Cybertron he had finally won. It was an effort and many lives were lost but the Autobots were not as well put together when their leader was dead. Well, he took care of them and put them exactly where they belonged, keeping two Autobot femmes for himself as pets.
He looked over at Arcee and Glyph who were nuzzled together and kissing on their lounge berth with transparent drapes. Their shiny collars marked them as his. Their valve panels were removed indefinitely so they would always be available for him to play with.
He immediately said, "Now, my dears, I'm feeling a little humored today. Put on a show for me."
The command was heeded quickly with Arcee taking the lead. She kissed Glyph roughly and then trailed down her dark teal chassis to her valve. The thick framed femme moaned and rolled her hips to meet Arcee's glossa, both making sure none of their actions were obscured for their master. Megatron thought about joining them but found it enticing to see them play with each other more. Why would he disturb that?
When Soundwave came in to report the processing of the rest of the Autobots, he knew Soundwave was trying his hardest to ignore Glyph's desperate sounds and Arcee making her overload with her thighs clamping together. Arcee climbed over Glyph to offer the other her valve to play with while she bent over to resume eating out the now wet valve. Glyph licked at Arcee's valve and Arcee returned the favor.
Megatron smiled at seeing the pink and white femme always acting like the leader between the two. If he grew a larger group, she would probably be his head harem bot. He finished his business with Soundwave and walked up to the two as his associate left them awkwardly. He reached down to stroke Arcee's helm as he released his spike.
"Always the showgirls. Now, tend to me."
Arcee retracted her glossa from Glyph, instead replacing it with digits so she could use her mouth on Megatron's spike. He closed his optics, engine rumbling pleasantly at feeling of the glossa sliding across his length before taking him in. If he ever regretted something, this was by far not even close to something he would. Taking these femmes as his own was a luxury well decided. His perfect little slaves.
TFA Elita One/Optimus Prime – Obsessive Masturbation
Elita watched him doze off from a long day of training while sitting on her berth that was parallel to his against the wall, knees scrunched close to her. She had one servo holding the data pad resting on her closed thighs and the other was a little farther down but from Optimus' angle, he couldn't see what she was doing. She was tilted further towards the wall to hide her actions.
She shared her barracks with him as newly promoted Minor rank of the Elite Guard. Sentinel had an assigned room with Rodimus across the hallway so it was only her and Optimus. She watched him like a hawk as he settled onto his berth and powered down, not before wishing Elita a sincere goodnight. She stared at him a minute more to confirm he was out before moving her digits faster unafraid of the noises her lubricant made from the rough motions.
Elita laid back and spread herself, tossing the data pad and focusing only on Optimus. She wanted him to frag her badly. As she entered two digits inside herself, she furiously moved them in a circle and arched raising a leg amid her harsh pants. She didn't know what he would think if he woke up now to the sight of her pleasuring herself to him, but her crush on him was also killing her.
Relationships supposed to be restrained in the Elite Guard. Ever since they first met, Elita wanted to be with him. It started off as a simple liking that bloomed into this. She would sneak into her shared barracks with their whole squadron and masturbate. This was complete coincidence she got him as a bunk mate, but it didn't help her obsession. It only fueled it.
She clutched her mouth with one servo and her thighs over the other, releasing on the berth with a deep blush. But then she got another idea to bring her one step closer to possibly confronting him about her crush. She walked to the foot of Optimus' berth and placed a knee up to start again. A lustful hiss of her vents made her continue with her daring venture. She put her other servo on the wall beside her with a muffled squeak. She switched servos midway through her building charge and leaned forward to hold herself up on the berth.
"Optimus," she whispered frantically pounding her digits inside her. She pulled them out and stroked her valve on the final stretch of her orgasm and leaned up with panting hard.
Elita jolted and paused, shaking as pink-tinted lubricant coated his digits and partially got on the berth and his locker below her. With a smitten expression, she ran her unoccupied servo down and cradled her valve while going through the smaller reactions. For a second of recovery, she just sat on his berth and let her fluid pool on the edge. She watched him rest lovesick.
Maybe she would get the real thing one day but for now, she would keep to herself.
Devastator/Bruticus - Public Sex
The components of Devastator formed and the neon green and purple monstrosity roared with his six red optics scouting for his target. The two main large optics kept a forward visual of everything while the four smaller slanted above and below further back peered around in separate directions to watch his blind spots. He caught sight of the other Combiner with his smaller left optic that had its pupil expanding. A crude smirk appeared on Devastator's features.
Bruticus was lounging about, Blast Off's personality when bored, but he eyed the Combiner's open legged posture like an invitation despite still having their panels on. Swindle was the main instigator of interface. A main voice with a faint echo sounded from the smaller Combiner. "About time you showed up. We were getting lonely."
"You always are ready to be wrecked when we come calling." Devastator then handled his spike formed from select pieces his forms shifted down. "Now, show me that pretty valve of yours."
"What about the citizens?" Bruticus gestured out multiple horrified and confused onlookers.
Devastator just laughed, "Let them watch."
He had Bruticus laying in a pile of an older destroyed building and gradually thrust into the other Combiner. The ruins of the building quaked from their joining with Devastator not giving a shred of mercy in his actions. He heard the disgusted and shocked bots seeing them, but he could care less. Seeing Bruticus' strong demanding composure crumble was satisfying as well as the nice, makeshift valve he was plowing into.
Like his components, he knew Bruticus, especially Swindle, was enjoying it. Each individual bot of his own make was having a reaction and they combined to enhance the pleasure tenfold. Devastator's mind was bombarded with various longings from liking Bruticus' horny expression to one of them even wanting to eat the valve for all to see. The chaos inside was just fueling his overall horniness and making him thrust harder.
The bots having to see the display flinched in fear as Devastator looked their way with his glossa out like a panting mutt. He had no shame in his rut. "Are you all enjoying the show? Like seeing precious Bruticus take this spike? Don't worry, we can give you an even better one."
He flipped Bruticus around and mounted him. The Decepticon Combiners both made hard noises from heightened responses to their rut. Devastator just kept at it with his optics closed while Bruticus reached back to stroke his valve folds. They both grew oblivious to their growing audience, only wanting to reach their peak. They could watch all they wanted, Devastator still made Bruticus cry out loudly for the city to hear with little shame.
Megatron/Tarn - Chained Up
He couldn't move with his servos trapped and tied behind his back becoming numb from being laid on. The chains around his torso and folded legs were from the ones dangling down from the brig ceiling. He was stuck on a platform at the mercy of his captor.
The vertical chain attached to his thighs were straining from the servos that gripped them hard. It made Megatron sore even among the fact that his spike was being rode on. The purple mesh valve engulfed him rapidly and the red-tinted lubricant stained his abdomen from how much his captor was producing. Tarn was clinging to the chains in desperation to frag himself to his oblivion. Megatron hated him.
Tarn came in at an angle and snapped his hips hard against Megatron's spike in a furious overload. Megatron became overwhelmed by the heavy stimulation that he couldn't stop himself from ejaculating even if he wanted to. The chains tightened more with Tarn's death grip, sliding to milk his overload with deep moans. Fluids dripped off the platform and splattered on the floor. Finally, Megatron could have a shred of peace when Tarn removed his servos from the chains to paw at his chest and steadily roll his hips with contentment, but the warlord just glared at him darkly.
"Now, Megatron, don't give me that look," Tarn said. "You like it, admit it."
The Decepticon leader shuttered as Tarn leaned between the two chains holding his torso and lifted off enough to edge his spike against the wet valve. He then growled, "You best hope I don't break free or I will tear your head right off and make you watch me defile your corpse!"
Tarn didn't appear at all fazed, especially since he wore the Decepticon insignia faceplate Megatron was loathing each second he had to look at it. "Sounds fun but I like my playmates leashed because I'm no fool of what you can do. But that's why I like you. The perfect model of Cybertronian beauty and brains. Why would I want to let that go?"
That only made Megatron fume more. He snarled as his spike stirred from being handled again by the claws of his captor. Tarn pushed him in a few feet then pulled back out, repeating the torment of arousal and death of stimulation as he leaned back and wrapped one servo around the nearest chain to tighten it again. The strain of it brought discomfort on his torso like it was trying to be crushed. Tarn all but laughed at his hell.
"The mighty Megatron chained by his own irony. You wanted everyone to be in chains before you as you declared yourself a ruler for all time. But now you lay before me bound and helpless as a master of no one. I'll break you in."
Megatron made harsh pants as his spike was forced back into Tarn, and the mech clawed at said chains moving on his lap. Even as he tried to pull at the binding metal, he was in no position to do any effective. He just had to let Tarn use him in the prison he ultimately built himself.
RID15 Drift/Grimlock - Stress Relief
Sometimes, there were frustrating days with Team Bee and some missions just left him wanting to escape everyone and everything. Drift had a solution to it and it involved a certain Dinobot he had learned to trust. Leaving Slipstream and Jetstorm with the humans for the afternoon, he left for the forest with Grimlock until he found a peaceful spot. He laid on his front on the grass and had his helm on his crossed arms, breathing slow through his vents with his engine purring low at first. Grimlock took a moment to appreciate the serenity of the forest as he did before settling behind him in his beast mode.
"You ready, Drift?"
The orange and black bot simply hummed his approval, his optics closed to let the Dinobot do his thing. He was too tired to move, and Grimlock understood. When a ridged glossa swiped over his open valve, he flinched at the sudden touch but the delicate, slow attention he got let his chassis adjust to the massage he was receiving.
Grimlock was unusually quick paced and determined. Drift taught him there was a time and place for such and sometimes, it was just better to go slow and enjoy things. When their relationship became more than friends in a way, the Dinobot learned Drift sometimes wanted to relax even in courtship. It made the other devise a new approach in their activities. Now, Drift was welcome to the nice, tender attention Grimlock developed when he knew he wasn't in the mood for anything but relief.
The glossa didn't push hard or rub harshly against his valve. It delicately nudged him and let the mesh tenderly drag across the surface. Drift felt his spark thrum naturally, no rush. His breathing was still calm and collected, and the rise of his system response to the stimulation was gradual, tranquil, and hypnotic. He felt like he could fall asleep to it.
This continued for a few minutes of peace and quiet. His charge built to a comfortably dense and arousing level. Grimlock's patience with him was to be praised. He couldn't help his vents starting to grow a little feverish but in a good way. The glossa broke loose a lot of knots in his lower spinal strut. Not a single drop of his essence ever touched the grass.
With a low, tired hiss of his vents and the burying of his helm in his arms, Drift succumbed to a breaking point in his pleasure. It wasn't a hard overload, just several tense ripples and Grimlock stopped to observe him.
"Better?" The Dinobot asked.
Drift gave a tame smile and when Grimlock laid his helm down beside him, he reached over to pet the snout of the beastformer. He softly replied, "Yes, Grimlock, thank you."
He heard the happy pats of the tail and held some amusement from it. He could respect Grimlock's enthusiasm for praise when he was helpful. Drift was very thankful for his understanding, even if he couldn't offer anything in return right now.
Waspinator/Predaking - Heat Cycle
Wasp had forgotten that when his heat cycle hit, it hit not just him but his alternate form. The Insecticon-Predacon hybrid form he called Waspinator was ten times more sensitive to the heat. The result was him seeking someone his size in that mode to frag him to quench his lust. But not a lot of bots were over twenty meters big. Then he found the Predacon leader. Predaking was a unit. The Insecticon leader licked his lips as his blue-turned-purple optics narrowed in desire. The beast inside wanted him. The Insecticons could only do so much but they were never able to spike him. So, changing to the beast mode he had finally learned to control and switch to and from, Waspinator approached the other leader who roared at him.
Waspinator roared back with his lower jaws separating to split, barbed spine raised along with his two sets of wings, and tail flickered. He stood on all six limbs, both his regular set of arms and smaller set attached to his lower torso clawing at the ground, a display for a fight, and his horn-like antennae pulsed their bio lights to sense the Predacon.
But Waspinator was clever; he didn't seek a fight, only to rile up Predaking to be up for anything. No cybernetic beast could resist a heat cycle, especially wanting to show dominance on a potential rival. He turned around and presented his valve with an insectoid rumble. Predaking started to sense him, throwing up his helm peeved and desperate. When the Predacon released his spike, Waspinator grinned.
He was mounted immediately and felt Predaking bite the back of his neck to restrain him and force the spike into his valve. The joke was on Predaking. Waspinator's perverted plan worked and found himself being thrust into with a long, thick spike that rippled against everything. It jabbed against his gestation chamber and made him huff with smoke coming out of his nasal vents.
Even though he was unable to move with such a grip on his neck, his deep vocals emitted strong purrs and he moaned trying to pressed back against the insertion. It was hitting everything at the right angle, a symphony of bliss for his heat cycle. He couldn't help but give a strained laugh throughout it.
"Harder, come on..."
He was almost to the point of no return when Predaking finished abruptly and moved off him. Waspinator growled at the lack of stimulation and his valve leaking but not satisfied. He needed more.
"Get back here, you imbecile, and frag me!"
Predaking growled and Waspinator snarled back before tackling the Predacon. He pinned the beast down and impaled himself greedily, holding down the neck and making sure the other monster couldn't turn them.
"I guess I have to do everything myself," he darkly hissed.
His tail naturally wrapped around the other's and he rode the Predacon to abandon. He quickly reached back to where he left off in terms of pleasure and slammed down on the prehensile spike that was perfect for him. He did until he slowed with a roar and grinded himself to orgasm. His barbed spine tightened, wings shivering inward and he grew a sultry smirk at final completion.
The Predacon didn't look too happy though. Well, since he didn't want to play and Waspinator was feeling very sensual right now, he decided to instead continue using Predaking as a play toy. He fragged himself over and over on the spike to satisfy his heat cycle uncaring of the other's frustration and loving when he was filled with Predacon seed. Even if Predaking was unaware like the mindless beast he was, Waspinator appreciated his services in taming his heat cycle though it was not willing. In the animal kingdom, between Insecticons and Predacons alike, there was no such things as rules when it came to taking what one wanted...
Perceptor/Wheeljack - Shared Toy
There were plenty of secrets Wheeljack kept from his fellow Cybertronians. One of which was what he had in his lab. Well, technically, there were multiple parts to that secret and that was...he was a huge fan of building his own interface toys. Perceptor only knew this because he caught the mech using them. Wheeljack's current favorite toy was the spike chair.
Triggered by seated weight, the chair had a hole in it where a hidden spike was automatically set to pump into the user's valve. Perceptor watched Wheeljack all but abandon a hacking device he was working on just to grip the seat edges and ride out the spike's set course. Seeing Wheeljack succumb to the machine made Perceptor wish he could try it. It looked fun and his chassis reacted to the visual of the scene with hidden lust.
Wheeljack shook as he came, and Perceptor just absorbed the sight with interest. But then he lifted off and Perceptor got an amazing look at the toy before it went back under for good. The seat had plenty of lubricant on it and coated the toy. Wheeljack just swabbed some of his juices between his legs and observed them with laughter. But he left the room shortly after unaware Perceptor was there.
The red and black mech took advantage of the absence and came up to assess the chair personally. He saw through the hole the toy ready to go despite dripping with lubricant from the previous use. Perceptor didn't mind the idea of using it after another and opened his valve panel to hover over the hole in the seat to align himself. He pressed down, groaning at his valve folds sinking into Wheeljack's mess and suddenly felt the used toy start to push up and through his entrance.
It shocked him at first but the spike built up to its set pace quickly. Perceptor shivered as the lubricant of his peer was also forced into him, but he went from clenching his dentae to slightly bouncing on the seat caressing his chestplates with fleeting noises. He spread his legs relaxing as the toy took care of the hard work for him.
He massaged his exterior node furiously when he couldn't contain his vocals. The constant impalement forced him to lean forward clutching the edge similar to Wheeljack with everything short of rocking against the seat as his valve was thrumming hard. Now he knew why Wheeljack loved this thing.
Wheeljack suddenly went around the table into view and leaned casually on it. Perceptor didn't jump up though he was startled and whimpering. The white mech only looked down at him with an unreadable posture while he went over with a shout, jolting his hips to rub his tainted valve on the seat among the toy's heavy pace. He immediately stood up at angle and looked between his legs with his fluid dripping down as the toy stopped. Perceptor had to hold on the table to keep balance, meeting Wheeljack's optics with breathing hard.
All Wheeljack seemed to say was, "If you wanted to share, you could have just asked me."
Perceptor's inner thighs were covered in lubricant as Wheeljack moved to be close to him. He was switched around and Wheeljack sat on the soaked grunting as the toy began its cycle once more. But, to his surprise, he was dragged to sit on Wheeljack's lap facing him. His valve was on Wheeljack's closed spike panel and the chair had the slightest vibrations running through Wheeljack and reverberated through him. The arousal was too good to pass up. While Wheeljack used the chair, he got off on his valve absorbing the faint bumps he could feel through Wheeljack.
They switched a few times with him on the chair close to the table and eating out Wheeljack's valve. And then another chance he got, both Perceptor and Wheeljack had their legs over the other to press their valves together while sitting on the chair and let the toy push between both valves. He liked the chair so much afterwards, he begging Wheeljack to make another one...
AN: Told you they would be shorter because sometimes it's just easier to get into the fun stuff off the bat. These were fun for sure.