Egg Slag, Suds, and Sparkmates 1/2
Summary: Optimus Prime gets egged in an altercation and it’s up to Elita to clean up her mech. During said altercation, Prime's SIC was only trying to help and ended up getting egged too! Chapter one will be Optimus and Elita. Chapter two will be Prowl and Jazz.
Author’s notes: italics denote comlink chatter, ‘…’ denote bond talk.
Warning: Mature rated for a reason. Hot steamy interfacing in the shower here folks. So enjoy.
Optimus and Elita
Elita-One looked up from the datapad she was reading at the sound of the familiar, heavy footfalls of her mech. Sure enough, Optimus Prime stormed in fuming beyond all believe and looking…well to put it mildly…looking far less than his usual regal, shiny, pristine self.
“Dare I ask?” she questioned softly when her olfactory sensors picked up a most foul odor.
Optimus growled and grunted as he dropped into his chair behind his desk. That was all the acknowledgement she received for he started hammering his fingers angrily on the computer’s control panel.
“Well, can I ask why you’re back from your mission two hours early?” she questioned and this time was blatantly ignored.
Well that would not do for the femme! Sparkmate or not, when Elita asked a question she expected an answer, especially from her sparkmate. So she let him know exactly how she felt at that very moment.
Prime sighed, pushing his anger aside when he felt the poignant annoyance and aggravation from his sparkmate for apparently ignoring her. Honestly, he was so fragging pissed off that he could barely focus on what he was doing. In fact, he actually had no idea what he was doing at the moment!
“I apologize, my love,” he spoke smoothly, sending waves of his affection for her over their bond hoping to sooth her angered spark. “It was not my intention to brush you off so rudely. May you repeat the question for me please?”
“I was just curious as to why you returned to the base a full two hours early,” she replied, happy to have his full attention. “And also why you look and smell as if you were rolling around in waste receptacle.”
“For that you’ll have to ask my Second in Command, who is fragging lucky I didn’t kill him for disobeying my orders!”
“Prowl? You are talking about Prowl? Your most loyal, trustworthy, competent officer.”
“Yes! He made me wreck into several vehicles, one of which some farmer’s truck fully loaded with eggs and chickens! Do you have any idea how sticky I feel right now? Not to mention the feathers are stuck to me like they’re glued on! It’s disgusting!”
“And smelly,” she replied waving the air around. “I didn’t think eggs smell that bad unless they were rotten?”
“No, that was the dump truck that explode spraying the majority of it contents on me when Prowl missed his target!”
“Don’t you think you should have hit the wash racks before gracing me with your presence smelling like…slag?”
Again Optimus sighed, glancing down at his filthy, vulgar, repelling armor.
“I’m sorry, Lita. I was just so angry I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“Never mind that,” she smirked, rising up to her feet. “Let’s just get you cleaned up.”
“Let’s?” he inquired, raising an optic ridge at her.
“Processor out of the pit, Orion,” she mockingly glared at him. “You’re not to touch me until you’re spotless and odor free.”
“Ah, but I can touch you, my lovely Ariel,” he purred deeply, making her spark tremble with excitement.
“Move it you sexy beast,” she grinned, sauntering ahead of him.
Optimus was quick to follow his femme enjoying the lovely view of her petite feminine form, especially the way her aft moved when she walked so elegantly. Now if he could just…
‘Processor out of the pit,’ she chided him over their bond, feeling his lust for her starting to smolder.
‘You didn’t say I couldn’t look, love,’ he responded playfully.
‘Save those urges until after you’re clean. You will not be making love to me like that!’
VRROOOMMM!!
Just like that, Optimus transformed and raced past her, honking at innocent Autobots to get out of his way. Elita was flabbergasted for a long moment that her mech dared to break Prowl’s number run rule of no racing in vehicle form in the hallways before she too transformed and chased after her sparkmate.
Even though her mech was the fastest mechanism on wheels because of his legendary strength, Elita’s alt form, a 2009 Mazda RX-8 R 3 - cherry red with a rear wing spoiler - was able to take the tight turns better and easily catch up to her mech.
“And just what do you think you’re doing?” she questioned, getting right up to his bumper but not touching it.
“I thought that was obvious!” he laughed, teasing her over their bond with dirty thoughts of what he wanted to do to her in the wash rack.
Not that he had to give Elita an incentive at the moment. She was more than in the mood. It’d been a long time since they were this playful where they didn’t care who witnessed their foreplay antics. And her interface systems were already over heated with anticipation of her sparkmate taking her.
So when Optimus power-slid to a stop in front of the door their quarters and transformed, Elite nearly overloaded on the spot. Despite the messiness his engine purred in just the right way that always aroused and charged her systems. The look of pure desire, love, and lust blazed brightly in his optics as he watched her transform before him. Even his interface systems were so energized, Elita wondered how her mech was able to restrain himself!
“Remember, no touching until you’re clean,” she reminded him even though she was desperate to feel his large gentle hands caress her or feel his massive frame pin her down.
“Then lets hurry,” he rumbled, quickly tapping in their access code and unlocking the door to their quarters. “I’m not sure how much longer I can restrain myself!”
Elita hurried inside, heading for the wash rack in their private wash room while Optimus entered and dealt with locking the door. He sent a quick text communiqué to a couple of his high ranked officers that he was not to be disturbed for any reason. Then he shut his comlink system down to ensure no interruptions and headed for the wash rack.
“Solvent is all ready for you,” Elita smirked, having already extended the showerhead’s hose.
Optimus stepped into the large shower stall and let his femme start to hose him down. The instant the solvent hit his armor he started to feel immensely better. Even the lingering smell was beginning to dissipate.
“You’re so beautiful,” he purred, wanting desperately to simply caress her face.
The femme smirked up at him then playfully sprayed him in the face. He was startled for a moment making his optic covers blinked rapidly. This of course elicited a spasm of giggles from his mischievous femme which quickly turned to a few shrieks of surprise when he grabbed the showerhead and turned it on her.
“Ok! Ok!” she sputtered, closing her optic covers and putting a hand up attempting to block the solvent. Optimus stopped his attack on her chuckling deeply at her. She smiled at him, spraying him in the face one last time before focusing back on the task at hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up then.”
Despite her mech’s massive size it didn’t take long to cover him with a thick layer of solvent. Then she turned the solvent off and started the enjoyable task of washing her mech down. Something they’ve done to each other on several occasions. And back on Cybertron there were times it was the only times to spare for them to be together because of the war.
Taking the wash towel she started on his left shoulder, massaging, scrubbing, caressing the strong plated armor and delicate the crevices working her way down his arm to his hand. Once the left arm was done she performed the same meticulous duty on the right shoulder and arm.
Next came her favorite part…his broad, massive chest that she loved to lean against for comfort or watch spread open before they spark bonded during moments of pure ecstasy.
Optimus sighed, shuttering his optics. Only Elita had a way of washing his chest that could make him instantly aroused and relaxed at the same time. He was relaxed enough to enjoy the pleasurable sensations of her delicate hands smoothly stroking his armor or her nimble fingers delving into the gaps and stroking…stimulating the underlying, very sensitive protoform.
His lips were on hers suddenly. Only long enough to get a delicious taste of her before he pulled back. The brief kiss was enough to make Elita’s legs tremble and hands shake. Her spark pulsed wilding within her chamber eager to connect with its mate. She couldn’t recall the last time she wanted her mech this badly as her processor was already in a euphoric state.
“Turn around love,” she murmured.
With a pleasant sigh, Optimus did as instructed. Elita didn’t rush, even though her interface systems were screaming, begging, ordering her to hurry it up. But she wouldn’t give in to her temptations just yet. Her mech deserved to be pampered from time to time. Plus, this elongated their private time together as she meticulously cleaned his back.
Only when she was satisfied did she move on to her next favorite parts of his gorgeous anatomy…his powerfully strong thighs.
A soft moan sounded from his vocal processor when she slowly slid the wash towel down over his aft to in between his legs. She literally felt the heat radiating from his interface systems as she spread one hand over his inner thigh while the other hand started cleaning the outside and front of his thigh. One thumb extended and teased him, smoothly caressing the sensitive plating directly between his legs over and over.
His entire form shuddered so hard that bubbles from the frothed solvent popped off him and floated in the air. He started panting to cool down.
“Elita…please hurry,” he voice quivered, slightly shifting his legs further apart, he was straining hard to not give in just yet and Elita could feel this through their bond.
The femme acted accordingly, always in tune with her mech and knowing exactly what he needed.
“Show it to me, Optimus,” she whispered provocatively while continually stroking the plating between his legs that was connected directly to the base his interface panel. “I want to see it…I want to touch it.”
Optimus shuddered again and his resolve crumbled instantly at her words or more the sensual tone of her voice. The panel retracted and his fully aroused interface rod extended. He felt her tender fingers slowly stroke the sensitive plating between his thighs, slowly moving up to the base of his rod.
Then he inhaled deeply, his two large hands shot up to brace himself against the wall when Elita’s other hand reached around and gently grabbed hold of him. It had been such a long time, since the beginnings of their relationship when they spent hours simply exploring each other, that Elita pleasured him in this manner. A long time and yet she was still quite skilled at it.
The slick solvent only added to the pleasant sensations pulsing through him as her hand stroke, squeezed, and fondled his interface rod over and over. Up. Down. Smoothly around. Slipping over and around the tip of his rod then gliding along the underneath side, then her hand encircled it and slid back down, gripping it gently.
The pattern was then repeated again and again. The friction was slowly building. Her hand was moving just a little faster each time. Her grip was even becoming even tighter and tighter until…
Optimus moaned loudly and panted heavily. He was going to overload very soon now only he didn’t want to, not without her.
“Ariel…please…I can’t hold back…any…longer…I want…”
He growled, cutting himself off doing everything in his power to not overload just yet. Frag…he was so close too! One word…one more…
“Ariel…”
“Don’t hold back, Orion, my love,” she whispered. “Let it go.”
His growl reverberated off the wash racks walls as his overload rippled through his systems. After several long moment once his overload had passed, Elita smiled upon seeing that familiar look of absolute bliss on Optimus’ face plates as his form complete relaxed. That wasn’t at all easy pleasuring her mate in that manner with the responses she was able to elicit. Her own interface systems were complaining, imploring her to be released like her mech’s just were.
The mere thought of having him inside her motivated her to finish what she started. And finish quickly!
When Optimus emerged from the euphoric cloud his processor was lingering in he felt Elita’s hands slipping and sliding hurriedly over his thighs and down his calves. He smiled dreamily down at her, feeling as if he was the luckiest mech alive. There were moments such as this when he couldn’t believe she was his…all his. Her spark belonged only to him.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
“Time to rinse you off now and inspect you,” she smirked up at him.
“That mean I get to touch you now?”
“Tempting…but no.”
Optimus gave her that mechanopuppy look that melted her spark with his bottom lip sticking out.
“Some things never change, Orion,” she commented, grabbing the hose and turning the hot water on then sprayed that look off his face.
“Nope they don’t. You’re still as beautiful as the day my optics first spotted you, my Ariel.”
Elita laughed as she continued to rinse him off, making sure to get between the gaps of his armor, “You were such a cocky mech when you walked right up to me. What was that line you said?”
“You don’t know it yet, but you’re my girl,” he chuckled. “Magnus said I was a few nuts and bolts short of a fully functional processor. Then he laughed at me when you threw that fruity energon drink in my face.”
“But you never gave up,” she smiled fondly at the memories.
“I just knew my spark would desire no other femme but you.”
“I love you for that, Optimus,” she sighed, reaching up and caressing his face. Primus, she loved him so much. “Now, let’s see if I got all the filth off you.”
“You know, I was thinking we need to take a few days…just you and me, no datapads, no interruptions,” he mused as his femme careful roved her optics and hands over his wet armored frame. “I know a couple of place we can go and just be alone. Even if it’s just for a day.”
“Sounds nice. There is still so much of this planet I would like to see,” she said, grabbing the cleaning towel and rubbing at several spots of egg that was still stuck like glue on his back armor. Of course when the towel wasn’t working she actually had to scrape at it with her finger.
“OW!”
“Oh, stop whining you big sparkling!”
“You know I thought you’d be a lot…OUCH…gentler with me for suggesting a vacation!” he grumbled.
“Well, this egg slag isn’t coming off with the towel. I actually have to scrape it off.”
“Just be…OW…careful,” Optimus said, then growled softly. “You’re killing the mood, my love.”
Elita stopped instantly.
“Is it just on my back?” he questioned over his shoulder.
“From what I can see, yes.”
Optimus was on her in instant. Mouth firmly over her hers, body pressed into hers, hands stroking and squeezing her making her moan. The towel dropped and the hot water hose was forgotten. Elita’s own hands were desperate to touch him, to hold him. Primus, she couldn’t get enough of him and there was more than enough to go around. That flamed passion between them had died down just a little bit there was now a blazing fury within their sparks.
“Optimus…please…” she shuddered during a kiss, when his hand reached down and clutched her aft tightly.
Understanding her plea, his hand slid down the back of her thigh slowly to her knee then lifted her leg up around his hip. Then he quickly reached down behind her other knee and lifted it up. Elita rocked her hips against him aggressively, her port already anxiously waiting to claim its prize.
Strong powerful, masculine hips thrust up deliberately again and again and again as they’re lips waged their war of passion on each other assaulting their necks, faces. Large hands stroked, grabbed, and squeezed her aft to heighten her pleasure.
Actual steam started to waft up into the air as both their bodies were running so hot now that it was drying the water off them. Neither paid attention as they were so absorbed in their interface session.
“Slag it!” he suddenly growled thrust up at her with frustration. “You’d think I’d mastered this by now. Elita…a little help please?”
“Sure thing love,” she smiled, reaching down between them and grabbing hold of his interface rod. She squeezed it hard but not too hard.
“You’re such a dirty femme,” he murmured between his kisses as she stroked and fondled him. “Are you teasing me? You are. Aren’t you?”
Elita smiled as she kissed him on the lips. She didn’t tease him for long, her own desire to feel his rather large rod within her port was far to arousing to ignore any longer. With her hand she finally helped to position him, placing the tip of his rod just near the circumference of her port.
Optimus broke the kiss and reared his head back slightly to watch the look on his femme’s lovely face. He always loved to watch her face when he pleasured her. He was generous by nature and it delighted him immensely that he was able to satiate his femme. Her head tilted back, optics closed, and mouth fell open, letting out a long quivering moan as he slowly slid deeply into her hot, lubricated port.
Her small hands gripped his shoulders tightly and started rocking her hips against his driving hips, taking what he was giving to her, giving as much as she was taking. Some things they disagreed on but together like this they were always in perfect harmony with one another.
She loved the feel of him plunging deeply, gently within her. His interface rod was slick with hot lubricants that made it glide effortlessly in and out. Her thighs wrapped hard around his hips and her port tightened around his rod when he thrust upwards, ever so gently against her.
The femme’s pleasurable moans echoed in the wash rack. Her hands gripped on tightly to his shoulders. Her hips grew more restless against his. Optimus continued to watch Elita’s facial expressions for signs of her overload. He could always tell what she needed by the look on her face.
Right now she was biting her lowing lip in concentration as she rode him out. Deciding she needed more, he suddenly drove his hips against hers hard and fast. She gasped loudly, mouth wide open, optics shuddering. He did it again, making her cry out even louder that before. Again and she started begging for more. Harder. Faster. Faster. Harder.
“Oh Optimus!” Elita cried loudly, falling against his chest as her overload suddenly just erupted through her systems.
Optimus smiled, slowly moving within her as her overload slowly quieted down. He tenderly kissed her face over and over as she trembled in his arms, panting heavily. Carefully he adjusted her form, cradling her with one hand under her aft so that he could caress her face with the other.
“I love you so much Elita,” he whispered, enjoying the feel of his femme so close to his spark.
“Love you too,” she murmured, leaning her face into his affectionate touch. Satiated look on her faceplates. Form to completely relaxed in his arms. Then her optics snapped open. “I’m so sorry! I couldn’t control it!”
“Shh, it’s quite alright my love,” he cooed, kissing her softly. “Watching you was pleasure enough.”
“Still…”
“Think nothing of it,” he smiled, leaning his forehead against hers. “Now that the lust is out of our systems, I can take my time pleasuring you.”
“Is that a promise?” she asked expectantly.
“As long as you find a gentler way to get the fraggin egg crust off my back armor, it’s most definitely a promise,” he purred, nuzzling his nose against her face.
Elita smiled when he kissed her. And as the kiss deepened she quickly accessed the internet and found a remedy for cleaning egg slag off cars.
Up next will be the Prowl and Jazz chapter!