The strangest part of it now was the ease with which Tailgate lifted and pinned him down. Cyclonus admitted that it made his spark throb faster, and arousal shoot through his systems.
While it could be argued that Tailgate was a touch too confident now, Cyclonus reaped the benefits of it.
Tailgate was half his size, but that did not stop him from pinning Cyclonus to the berth and drawing out several overloads. Cyclonus panted through two of them before he entirely knew what happened.
Tailgate’s visor was bright, his energy field crackling with charge. His engine rumbled as he drove into Cyclonus, spike cleaving a path of pleasure.
Cyclonus’ claws tore furrows in the berth above him. His hips creaked in Tailgate’s grip, but not once had he been dented. For all of Tailgate’s newfound strength, he had yet to cause Cyclonus any harm.
He had also yet to overload tonight. With the strength came an unexpected stamina. Or perhaps he was simply that determined to see to Cyclonus’ pleasure.
Another deep thrust pulled a low moan from Cyclonus’ intake. The berth covers ripped. His hips tried to rise into Tailgate’s motions, but Tailgate’s grip was unbreakable. Cyclonus remained pinned, subject to the delightful glide of Tailgate’s spike over his internal nodes.
“You feel so good,” Tailgate gasped, his hips pumping, his fingers flexing to the same rhythm. “I could do this all night.”
Cyclonus believed him. He shivered as another wave of pleasure zinged down his spinal strut and sent static crawling from beneath his armor.
“You must overload eventually,” Cyclonus said with a groan, his internals tightening. Desire coiled in his array, charge snap-crackling through his lines.
Tailgate chuckled. “You first, Cyclonus.”
“I… mmm… have already. Multiple times to my knowledge.”
“A few more won’t hurt then.” Tailgate slowed his thrusts, rocking into Cyclonus, dragging his spike over each internal node with a zap of charge. “As many as you can manage. I could watch you overload forever.”
Cyclonus shivered again as his entire frame tingled. His vents stuttered. He struggled to cycle air, heat building in his frame.
“Though watching you overload right now is a good start,” Tailgate continued with an almost mischievous note. He pushed deep, grinding against Cyclonus’ ceiling node.
Cyclonus moaned, his valve rippling around Tailgate’s spike. His nodes fired pleasure one after another
No. He changed his mind.
Tailgate’s unexpected strength was normal compared to his new confidence in the berth. Not that Cyclonus complained. Not at all.
In fact, as he tripped over the edge into his third overload of the night, Cyclonus was quite grateful indeed.