Dedicated to Plenoptic, who had better upload a chapter of Politically in Love really soon. Or I'll explode, and then I won't be able to review her fic. Or write more of my own. And then we would both be sad. So, moral of the story is badger Plen. Go. Badger. Everything about the sparkling belongs to Plenoptic, in her fic Politically in Love, chapter fifteen.
Elita sighed gently, lifting her arm out of the bath. She watched as the slightly viscous material slid down her plating. The droplets formed together and wound into the gaps into her armor, teasing her circuits. No, wait. That was one of Optimus's fingers slipping in between her plating.
"Optimus Prime!" Elita's shocked tone was contrasted by her tiny fingers slipping into the plating on his thigh. "What on Cybertron do you think you're doing?"
The large mech behind her chuckled, the vibrations moving through his chestplates into her backplates. She shivered with delight at her mate's playfulness. As soon as they were out of their bath, they were going to have a fantastic night.
"When I scooped you up and put you in this bath, I was under the impression that we were going to relax and make a sparkling. That's all I was doing, love. Helping you relax," Optimus said, pulling her back against his broad chest and relaxing his weight into the tub. Luckily, their bathtub had been desighned with the both of them mind, making it more than large enough to contain their weight. (And his width and height.)
"I was relaxing," Elita snipped playfully back, gently running her small hands over any and all plating of Optimus's she could find. "Then, you had to start touching me, which made me not relaxed. Do you see the problem here, love?"
Optimus was silent, but reached for a washcloth and squeezed her favorite liquid wax onto it. He gently rubbed the cloth over her shoulders and down her breastplate, making sure to keep the cloth between his giant hand and her plating.
"Well then, love. I guess I'll have to be careful not to touch you," He said, moving the cloth over her chestplates with exaggerated slowness. Elita choked on a moan, holding back her reaction. Two could play the teasing game.
Elita was silent, allowing her mate time and space to tease her. She knew that once she opened her mouth, the spell would be broken. And she was rather partial to Optimus being under her spell. It usually meant that amazing things would happen to her body, spark and mind.
Optimus's helm dropped back against the back of her own and he shifted his mass forward to cradle her closer to his body. As he shifted forward, she shifted down and back, making her rest in between his legs, instead of on top of them. This left Optimus towering over her, which made a rush of lubricant grace her valve.
If Optimus was going to take her letters to spark, then she was surely going to make sure that she was going to enjoy every second of it. And with that glint in his optics, it was going to be a long, arousing night, ending with their dream of a sparkling.
Optimus's hand gripped the cloth once more, making sure that her chest was soapy and slick. When he was satisfied with his cleaning, he placed his hand into the solvent and cupped it, allowing the solvent to rush into his palm. When he was satisfied that his hand was full enough, he quickly lifted it out of the solvent.
He lifted it high above Elita's chest and let the solvent trickle out of his palm, down through his fingers and onto her plating. She couldn't hold in her gasp when the slightly cool liquid hit her squarely in the chestplates. The solvent washed away the wax and soap, but the contrast between her overheated chassis and the cooler liquid made her fritz.
Her back arched into the warm body and liquid below her. Optimus chuckled and lowered his hand to the washcloth, which had been abandoned in the solvent. He brought his hands out in front of her optics, one hand squeezing her bottle of wax, the other steadying the cloth. The way his hands worked together, squeezing the plastic bottle sensuously, was almost enough to make her beg for him to touch her.
When one hand placed the bottle on the side of the tub, she tensed, knowing that the cloth was going to touch her body again. She was completely at his mercy. When Optimus's hand continued over the side of the tub, she craned her helm to try to see what he was doing. As soon as she tried to lean over the side, he pulled his hand back, and her with it.
However, he had another towel in his hand. At least, at first glance, it looked like a towel. Upon further inspection, she realized that it was a chamois, a towel of sorts that was used for drying plating. It allowed waxed plating to dry without any sort of streaking. When Optimus set the washcloth down on her chassis, she looked down.
It was her fault, really. She should have known that her mech was up to something. He always was. As soon as her helm tilted down, Optimus had tied the soft cloth around her optics, leaving her completely blind. Optimus gently but firmly tied the chamois behind her helm. When he trailed his hand down the back of her helm, she whimpered pathetically.
It wasn't her fault that the both of them had been too busy to love each other lately. Moving to earth and establishing a city had brought about a number of problems. First of all, they were a race of beings that were used to simply doing things their own way. While there was bureaucracy on Cybertron, there was no need for the Prime to be held back by that.
Earth, on the other hand, seemed to be driven by bureaucracy. Every single thing she wanted to do was shot down, needed her signature, or was filed in the wrong place. These humans had even managed to ruffle Prowl's feathers, to use a human colloquialism.
Because of that, the two commanders had been up to their audios in data-pads and other such nonsense. They had been lucky if they had managed to recharge together more than two or three times a week. Which, in her Femme-Commander-qualified opinion, was insane. They were a happily bonded pair. They should recharge together every single night and they should be fragging each other senseless at least three times a week.
But there she was. Wrapped in her mech's embrace, in a hot bath, with her optics covered. When her mech got 'kinky,' even if it was simply being blindfolded, she was more than a little excited. And if the lubricant in her valve was anything to go by, then she was very excited.
Optimus, for his part, was merely on fire. Every single circuit in his body was overheating and making him realize that it had been ages since he had expressed his love for his femme with his frame. There was nothing he loved more than having his femme laid out in his lap with her optics covered.
He would not, could not, suppress the shudder that passed through his frame. His interface rod started to push angrily against his panel, begging him to let it out and play. For Elita's sake, he kept it under wraps. She deserved to be loved and worshiped for a long while. He could wait until she was well taken care of.
He picked up the abandoned washcloth and wrapped it around one of his large hands. He relaxed back, surrendering his weight back into the rim of the tub. With his free hand, he hauled his femme back against him. When both were secure and somewhat steady, he began to wash his femme with all the love in his spark.
The wash cloth moved down the length of her chest and dipped into her abdominal plating. Her plating there was smooth and mostly flat, but it had a bit of a curve to it. Without the curving, she would have been as flat and angular as he was. He loved her curvy body. She was beyond gorgeous.
He gently rubbed the cloth against her plating, soothing it and arousing her beyond good sense. When her legs began to scissor gently under the solvent, there was no way he could ignore her direct needs any longer. He took the cloth and gently ran it down her upper thigh. When she groaned and bucked her hips, Optimus could not help the slag eating grin that crept onto his face. He couldn't have stopped it if he tried.
With his femme bucking and going wild under him, he allowed his hand to open and the wash cloth to float away in the solvent. As it floated towards her knees, he waited until it was ready to collide with her. At the exact same moment the cloth hit her knee, his bare hand caressed up her interface panel. The gasp that escaped her went straight down his spinal relay and further inflated his rod.
"Optimus! I need you," Elita panted, turning blind optics up to where she knew his face would be. Optimus let his helm fall forward onto her shoulder, right by her audio. He lowered his voice to the level he knew she loved.
With a darkened, deepened baritone, he spoke, "Elita. I need you to lay back and feel, femme. There is no reason for you to worry, for you to hurry. There is only the two of us tonight. I will shoot whoever tries to tear us apart. So, lay back, sweetspark. Allow me dominion over you," Optimus paused, allowing himself to vent hotly near her frame. "I promise you that you will be the most satisfied femme on the planet when we are done." One with a sparkling, he added silently to himself. Tonight was all about his femme and her pleasure. And the creation of his very own sparkling.
Elita smiled, and even without her optics warming the smile, Optimus felt as though his spark was on fire. Tonight…tonight he wanted all of her. He was going to take her vigorously and he was going to join his spark to hers at the same time.
His fingers gently slipped up and down her panel, waiting until she was ready to reveal herself to him. Sometimes, in order for him to have complete control over her pleasure, she had to mentally prepare herself for him first. At that exact moment, Elita decided to open her side of the bond to him. Her essence contacted his own and he basked in the pure, unadulterated love he received from her.
In response, he stilled his fingers on her panel and instead concentrated on feeding her pleasure from his spark. With all of his might, he sent her feelings of desire, his own arousal and his excitement at having her at his disposal.
Elita moaned and bucked her hips up into him. However, this time when she bucked her hips up to him, her port was open to his probing fingers. He growled lowly into her audios and nipped at the side of her neck. Elita mewled in a very feminine manner. It pleased him to no end that his femme was no longer afraid to be a femme in his presence. There was nothing left that she felt like she had to prove to him.
It was only the two of them tonight and every night for the rest of eternity. That alone warmed Optimus's spark, which echoed glowingly in Elita's own spark. His fingers probed her internal walls gently, making sure that there was enough lubricant to ease his way. He was less than surprised to find that she was completely drenched with lubricants.
Elita had always been a fan of being dominated and not knowing what he was going to do to her. He pulled his fingers out of her valve and lifted them up to the light. Even though Elita could not see the erotic sight, he placed his fingers into his mouth and sucked her essence off of them. She was always so sweet and light, much like his favorite energon goodies.
With the solvent rapidly cooling around them, Optimus made the executive decision to pull his lover out of the tub and move things to the berth. With little effort, he pulled his femme out of the bath and placed her, still blind, on the small carpet. As she dripped and shivered on his carpet, Optimus couldn't help but be completely taken by the sight. She was huddled into herself, lubricant leaking out of her needy valve, solvent dripping out off of her frame.
Sending her a burst of love to warm her from the inside out, he snapped a towel off the rack and began tenderly buffing her clean and dry. As her paint dried and shone, he could see his own visage in her plating. And he looked positively feral. It would turn Elita into a vivacious siren, if she could only see him. As Optimus worked his way up her backplating, he took the blindfold off his femme. As he turned her towards him, she immediately launched herself into his arms, kissing him with vigor. Optimus chuckled deeply and pulled away from her.
"You'll just get yourself wet again, love."
"I think we're a little too far into the night to worry about me being wet, Optimus."
His optic ridges raised, a little shocked at his femme's bold words. She had always been a feisty femme and it was something he loved about her. And now that her blindfold was off, she was more than ready to play a femme to his Alpha mech.
Optimus quickly dried himself off, watching his femme watch him. He adored watching her optics darken, now that he could actually see her. After all, there were other ways to make his femme realize that he was her dominant than with whips and chains.
"Get to the berth. Hands and knees." Optimus rumbled, straightening his posture and squaring his shoulders. He was beyond delighted when she decided to play his game, despite the seductive shake of her hips as she walked.
As Elita positioned herself with her port wide open and easy for him to use, Optimus allowed his interface rod to come out from behind his panel. On instinct, he grabbed it, soothing it and pulling it. He let go, and clambered up onto his berth behind his femme. He wasted no time in positioning a pillow under her. With a gentle push, her upper body was on the pillow, raising her hips further.
Optimus kissed the back of her shoulder, teasing her port with one of his huge fingers, making sure that she was ready to accept his length into her body. He moved himself behind her, lining up his spike with her port and gently pressing himself into her port, inch by inch.
The heat and tightness of her port in this position was driving him mad. He could feel every inch of her valve, which was clenching in time with her breathy moans. Every time his massive spike rested against her small aft, she would cry out harshly. He would pull out and repeat his slow strokes, slowly gaining speed as he went. She was in complete bliss, but Optimus was going to make sure that the one time they decided to try for a sparkling was the best interface of her life. With one massive hand steadying her, the other hand reached around her front and located her node.
With the practice of eons, he began to play with her node. With a gentle twist and pinch, Elita threw her upper body off the pillow and into his chest. Optimus bit the back of her neck sensuously, knowing his femme was close to her overload. With one last stroke of her node, Elita overloaded with a silent cry to the ceiling and to Primus.
As she recovered, Optimus flipped her over gently. Her port was clenching against him, making him desperate to spill his transfluid inside of her. However, he held off, knowing that everything had to be done with perfect timing for this sparkling to come into being.
He teased the seam of her chestplates, knowing that she would open. With a surge of love, her plates parted easily. He stared at her spark with rapt attention. He had seen it thousands of times, but it was always the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
He parted his own chestplates, ignoring his throbbing spike for a few moments. He leaned forward and kissed Elita with everything he had. All of his love and adoration graced her lip components. And without another thought, he dipped his chestplates into hers. Both of their sparks were so happy to be one; the light put off from them danced on the wall, illuminating the pair in their sensuous dance.
Both of them were in bliss, moving together in perfect harmony. Their sparks were mingling, Optimus's energy and Elita's energy were one. Optimus's hips rocked into hers once more, stimulating his rod and his spark. The tingling at the base of his spinal relay told him that it was now or never. With a groan, he spilled his transfluid into Elita's tanks.
Elita squealed, thrusting her spark harder into his own. Optimus held her down with his mass and allowed their sparks to overload together. He channeled all of his spark energy into her systems, knowing that it was the key to producing their sparkling. With a snap, Elita's chestplates slammed closed and Optimus rolled off of her.
As they lay together, cuddling on their berth, both were smiling and panting. Elita was far too tired to check and see if they had made a sparkling. Chances were that any spark they had produced was too small and insignificant for her systems to pick up on. They both knew that a trip to Ratchet was first thing on the agenda for the next morning.
But for now, there was only happiness and pure contentment flowing between the two of them. Optimus and Elita were simply Ariel and Orion. Both parts of one spark were together, as they always should have been.
And unknown to both of them, a tiny femme spark was already being formed in Elita's tanks.
TAKE THAT, PLEN! Hope you all enjoyed it. I know I did. All of the Sparkling making process is found in Plenoptic's fic, Politically in Love, chapter 15. It's a great fic. Go read it right now. It's the best I've ever found. Oh, and leave a review for me, please.