Happily Ever After
by Phantom
Chapter Three- The Bachelor Party
rating: ***+bop
"Alita and I started having sex not long after we became secure in our military positions," Optimus announced, taking another swig of enersuds. He'd clearly had plenty already.
"I was wonderin' 'bout that. You seemed to be in a 'specially good mood at a certain point," Jazz slurred. "Back then, in the good 'ol days, I had plenty of chicks. But now, man, I hit a dry spell as big as the Sahara."
"Looksh like Magnush doesn't have that problem," Springer chortled, toasting the City Commander. "His interfashe is prob'ly ready to fall off by now."
"Speak for yourshelf, Schpin - uh, Sprigner, uh, aw, nevahmind," Magnus grumbled. "You've mished your fair share a work cooped up in your quartersh, and Arshee was nowhere in schight." Rodimus' unsteady glare went unnoticed.
"How 'bout you, Pershy?" Springer teased, "Santa bring you anything in the sack?"
Perceptor stared at Springer levelly, "Acshully, I prefer the floor to my recharge bed in such mattersch." His accent was still as refined as ever, despite the slurring, "and of course, the laboratory table is condushive to more than one kind of exshperiment."
This point-blank statement captured everyone's attention. "You're jokin', right Pershy?" Jazz asked. The scientist blinked, "No, why?" he asked in surprise. Everyone shook their head in amazement. Who would have guessed?
Jazz got to his feet a bit shakily. "I'll go get the cake and the, heh, speshial guest."
"Where's Schingper?" Magnus wondered.
Jazz shrugged, "Beatsh me, man, if he misshes th' show, zats his problem." He exited the small lounge area, and in a moment or two, wheeled in a shimmering pearly-white energon cake with a suspiciously transformer-shaped hole in the top. "Here ya go, Op!" He tapped on the side of the cake. "Do your thing, baby!"
"Surpriiise!" A figure jumped out of the cake, totally naked. The collective male audience did not erupt in whistles, as one would expect, instead they gaped in shock. Then they started to complain loudly, groaning one word, "Springer!!!"
Springer grinned and headed over to his friends, staggering a bit, "Well, weren't you surprished?"
Optimus grinned, appreciating the joke. And because his battle mask had been abandoned earlier that night, along with many of his inhibitions, Springer could see the grin and returned it tenfold. Prime leered at the green triple-changer, who was still blissfully au natural. "Nice buns, Spchring. But aren't you going to danshe for us?"
"I thought that was my department," an undeniably feminine voice purred. All optics swiveled to take in the new arrival. Then the expected whistles began. The stripper was tall and colored a creamy orange-peach shade. "Sorry I'm late, but I'll assume that I'm forgiven." All the men nodded dumbly. "Good, then lets get started."
Taking his cue, Jazz manned the sound system, cranking out music that was pounding yet sensual. The femme swayed to the music, giving alluring glimpses of her thighs and behind. She stretched her arms up to the ceiling, showing off her breastplate. The men cheered approvingly but were clearly waiting for more. The femme ran her hands over her breastplate, caressing the hidden curves, then tracing the seams. When the males were drooling sufficiently, she unsnapped the armor and tossed it aside.
Prime cheered along with the others. The enersuds had done wonders for his enthusiasm. He looked the graceful femme up and down, enchanted with her fluid movements. Of course, the scenery wasn't bad either, and soon his codpiece began to irritate him. Barely glancing at the nuisance, he removed it and placed it on the table. Many of the others followed suit, seeing no reason to endure the discomfort either.
The stripper ran her hands up and down her thighs, clearly aroused. Her interface glistened as lubricant began to form. Sensing a female in heat, the observers grew even more aroused. As she began to rub her pert breasts, the guys began summoning her over eagerly.
She sauntered past them slowly, giving them a good look, before coming to the head of the table and the bonded-to-be. "Hey there," she purred, stroking his cheek. "Ready for a little action, big boy?"
Optimus was drunk enough to blatantly stare at her naked body but still had some reservations. "What will Alita think?"
All of the assembled guests groaned. "Opshimish, she wouldn't a let you come here if she didn't mind," Magnus argued.
"It's your last chanshe," Springer pointed out, draining his glass. "Trusht me, her wrath is worth it."
The femme pressed her advantage and stroked his shoulders. Optimus liked the contact, and what the hell, it was his last night as a free man. He pushed back his chair in invitation, and the femme took her cue, kissing the Autobot Commander deeply. The drunken onlookers applauded.
"What'sh your name?" Optimus asked.
"Chastity," she purred. "Gee, I hope you haven't had too much to drink, that would put a damper on all our fun."
Prime's expression of horror was comic. Chastity kissed it away, her hands travelling down his massive chest. "Is staring all your going to do?" she asked teasingly.
Optimus hesitantly reached out to caress her breasts, eliciting a moan from the femme. They were perfectly rounded and fit his hands just like Alita's. Comparing the stripper to his mate somehow stirred his arousal, and he began to suck at the peak hungrily.
Her fingers continued down to his hips, and not stopping, to his interface. It reacted sluggishly, but not as slowly as she'd feared. Aroused by the contact, he responded by moving his hands down her belly and, becoming impatient, to her wet and open interface.
The femme's gasp was echoed by moans from the watching male audience, appreciating the show. She rubbed the entrance against the hand eagerly, but soon realized he was lagging behind.
"Lay off the enersuds next time, Romeo," she scolded, "now I have to do this." She doubted he'd learn much of a lesson, since she knelt on the floor and slipped his interface in her mouth.
Optimus cried out, his hips thrusting off the chair. Chastity's lips were incredible, sucking in all the right places and nibbling at others. Only Alita had been able to satisfy him so well. His interface surged to full life under her ministrations.
"Much better," she observed, then straightened up and promptly thrust herself upon him, legs dangling over the sides of the chair. The audience roared with approval. "Ride her, Prime!" one yelled.
Prime didn't need any urging. The presence of his best friends, instead of distracting him, fuelled his arousal. Chastity thrust against him forcefully, her hands busy roaming his back and chest. The rhythm she set was paced perfectly, speeding up just when he wanted it. Only Alita had been so in tune with his desires. Come to think of it, this femme was in tune with a lot of his desires. Could it really be that she was that good at her job?
His hands, stroking down her sides as he thrust in return, encountered the answer. There was a small, crescent shaped scar on her right hip. Optimus could tell the day and conditions under which the injury had happened. Discretely scraping at the paint on her side, he managed to scratch off a few flakes, a sign of a temporary paint job. Underneath was his favorite shade of pink.
The discovery sent his arousal skyrocketing. He didn't understand how or why, and refused to question it. He just shut off his optics and thrust powerfully against his partner, whose interface felt like home. The various comments from the assembled guests made him more aroused than ever. He'd never thought that he'd enjoy exhibitionism, but such a forbidden, one-time act thrilled him deeply.
The femme astride him began to cry out as her interface dripped lubricant, reaching the melting point. She seized her lover's shoulders in a vice like grip as she thrust down, impaling herself as deeply as she could. "Oh yes, yes!" she cried, welcoming a release to her mounting arousal. The chair underneath them was soaked as her interface flared with release, heralded by her gasps.
The fluttering spasms and the sight of a female in orgasm had always been impossible for Optimus to resist. He thrust upwards mightily as his interface swelled, then fired rapidly within the eager femme. His hoarse cries mingled with hers as the onlookers applauded. Optimus caressed the slight femme perched above him. "Peach suits you, my love," he murmured in her audio.
She smiled and rubbed his nose with a finger. He had guessed her identity, even while drunk off his ass. "Well, enersuds doesn't agree with you as well," she teased. "It took forever to get you going."
She climbed off of him and stood, addressing the hungry-eyed pack before her. "Optimus has to go now. The femmes have organized a special farewell of their own for him." She waved away their angered protests, "You've had your fun for the night, haven't you? Haven't seen enough yet? Go back to your quarters in half an hour or so, and your ladies will come in rarin' to go, I promise." The men still grumbled, but her promise intrigued them.
Optimus stood slowly, finding that his equilibrium was slightly affected. He snapped on his codpiece and his mask. Alita retrieved her breastplate and concealed herself. "Go to the femmes' rec room. Chromia will explain everything there. I'll see you back at our quarters. Oh, and have a good time," she said teasingly as she left.
The guys were still griping, but the sight of the cake cheered them. "Ya can't leave without some," Jazz argued, giving him a big slice. "Don't worry about your gifts, okay? We'll drop 'em by your quarters later. Just have a good time."
"Thanks, you guys. You've given me a great send off," Optimus said and turned to leave. It was rather rude to leave your own party, but he was intrigued by the surprise. He removed his mask and devoured the cake on the way.
He felt rather sobered up by the time he knocked on the rec room door.
"Come in!" several voices sing-songed. Frowning, Optimus opened the door and found himself in a pitch-black room. He jumped as the door slammed shut behind him and his arms were seized. "What’s going on?!" he yelled in alarm as a blindfold was secured around his optics.
"Calm down," Chromia's cool voice told him, "you won't be harmed. I'm here to make sure that the girls obey the rules."
"Rules?" Optimus asked, thoroughly confused. The girls tugged at his arms, and he reluctantly followed them. He warily let them push him down on to some sort of cushioned surface. His arms were stretched above his head, and he heard a loud click. Suddenly he realized that he couldn't move. "Hey, what are you doing?" he protested, struggling.
"Just relax," Chromia giggled at his struggles, "here are the rules. The mask, blindfold, and handcuffs must remain at all times. The girls may do whatever they like to you as long as they don't leave any permanent marks. You, however, are not allowed to touch them. I have no desire -- well, not much -- to get involved, so I'll just watch and see that things go smoothly. Ready?"
"Uhh...." Optimus replied, not sure that he would like this. However, the femmes were plenty ready as they gathered around him. He flinched as many hands began to explore his shoulders, chest, and legs. "How many of you are there?" he breathed, shivering. The enersuds caused his head to spin pleasantly, and he began to forget that he wasn't supposed to enjoy this.
"No questions," Chromia said sternly, "otherwise I'll have to deactivate your vocalizer."
Optimus didn't like the sound of that, so he did the only thing he could -- lie back and enjoy it. Some sort of fabric was wound around his audios so the voices were muffled slightly -- probably so he couldn't identify them. He felt a light touch on his codpiece, but the hand was snatched away.
"Don't be so impatient," one femme scolded the other. He didn't mind, for it seemed that every other area was occupied by soft, caressing hands. They began to close in on their target, inching up his thighs and down his belly. His interface began to tingle despite the effect of the enersuds. This was something out of his fantasies and wet dreams, but an event that he had never sought to cause. Alita must have wanted to give him a night to remember while insuring that, after having so many femmes at once, he'd be ready to settle down.
He moved restlessly on the bed, unaware that Alita had mimicked the same movement not too long ago with her special present, overwhelmed by sensation. So many hands, doing so many things. He whimpered, signaling his need. Either they took pity on him or their impatience overcame them, for his codpiece was removed, and his interface kissed open air.
The hands stilled on his body as all craned for a good view, even Chromia, seated by Prime's head. A collective murmur of appreciation rippled around the group, then his interface was covered by exploring hands, exclamations from those lucky enough to have a grip, and petulant complaints from those waiting their turn. Low murmuring quickly settled who would do what when, and the hands resumed their places on his body as others took their turn between his legs. He sensed a shuffling, then felt a tongue glide its way up his sensitive inner thigh. The tip of his member was engulfed by eager lips. His hips surged off the bed, but he was held down by several giggling but strong femmes as the one between his legs did her work with enthusiasm. She yielded to the next in line, who resumed her place, stroking the slick metal with her tongue. The small whimpers escaping from Prime's throat spurred on the ladies around him, who teased whatever expanse of metal was under their care. The sight of his magnificent length was an aphrodisiac, and even Chromia felt a warm tingling between her legs.
All of the femmes loved Chromia dearly and had a deep respect for her friendship with Optimus, admiring her restraint when faced with their subdued specimen. One of them took pity on her and forsook Optimus, kissing the elder femme and gently fingering the damp folds between her legs.
Optimus heard the moans of his friend next to him, and though understanding it was not his doing and rather glad of it, this aroused him even further. He inhaled the air greedily, perfumed with the exotic scent of aroused females. He was seized with a mad urge to rip off his blindfold and handcuffs, to see and touch the lovely flesh around him, but knew that it was only a passing urge. He would be eternally grateful to Alita for this experience and thus wanted to stick to the rules to the letter. A small, logical part of him also did not want to see the identity of those around him. Not only would it take away a good deal of the suspense, but he worked with these ladies and didn't want to disturb their professional relationship. He liked the incognito aspect.
He felt dampness on his interface, but this time it wasn't a hungry mouth. He panted eagerly as a very aroused femme rubbed her dripping entrance against him, coating them both in lubricant. At last she plunged down, moaning as she was stretched by his size. The others did not neglect his body, but were busy watching the first lucky femme to ride their commander that night. A few became impatient and frictioned against him, finding his feet to be adequately satisfying.
The femme astride him reached orgasm, shuddering as her muscl e cables squeezed him powerfully. As she came down off her high, she surrendered her position to another, who promptly plunged down on the stiff unit and began pumping. She was rather young and had fantasized about her kind but distant leader, but actually having him inside her was better than she could have imagined. She climaxed within seconds, adding to the puddle forming between Prime's legs.
As a third femme took her place, Prime's gasping became ragged. Feeling yet another smooth, slippery interface engulfing him, he thrust back as hard as he could, feeling preparatory spasms build. "He's cumming!" the femme squealed in delight, thrilled to be the one to push him over the edge. The other's sighed in envy, watching avidly as the male's hips arched upward, and the femme howled, her own release triggered by the warm fluid flooding her.
The ladies groaned in disappointment as Prime's interface emerged, limp and down for the count. "I guess that’s the end of it," said one, still waiting a turn.
"Don't be silly," panted Chromia, stroking the femme's head buried between her legs, "just suck him for a while and he'll recover."
The femmes turned to this task with relish, trusting Chromia's vast experience in such matters. Hands stimulated his hips while his member was devoured by one very determined femme. The small group cheered as he made a swift recovery, and the femme's mouth was replaced by her hot core, pulling on him as strongly as her mouth. She cried out as release struck quickly, overwhelming her. Most were too aroused by the reality of their desires to hold back for long.
Optimus rubbed his feet against the wetness there, doing his best to satisfy. There was no way his already sore interface could take them all on, even in it sober state. His efforts were rewarded by screams and hot gushes of liquid as two more femmes were satisfied, quickly replaced by two more for the same. 'How many can be left?' he wondered in a daze.
"You're just about done, don't worry," Chromia assured him breathlessly. Reassured, Optimus persevered. He winced as the girl atop him squeezed him painfully as she came, then was replaced with another. The femme as his left foot coated it in a final gush, but the spot remained empty. The second femme provided the same treatment for his right foot, and he was only left with the one riding him like a cowgirl atop a wild stallion. That analogy spurred him on, and his interface became molten. Her squeals mixed with his guttural groans. She came, fingers scoring his chest as she convulsed. With one last thrust, Optimus answered with a roar as his interface erupted, spurting within her. He slumped, drained and barely conscious.
Chromia's optics devoured the sight of Optimus coming violently and felt her interface surge. Spreading her legs wide, she gave the gorgeous femme better access. The other femmes released Optimus from his confinement, leaving him to undo his blindfold as they slipped out, heading home to their males, their adventures fueling their lust. The boys were in for a hot night.
Prime's interface had taken plenty of abuse and refused to rise again, but he was still plenty aroused by the sight before him. Only Chromia and her companion remained, but Optimus didn't give a damn -- he would have given up leadership eagerly to see the sight before him. He'd never seen a femme pleasuring another, but it was remarkably stirring. Chromia arched upward, drenched in lubricant, as the femmes tongue darted rapidly over her burning interface. The femme placed both hands on her upper thighs, keeping them spread widely as her mouth worked its magic. Aroused by Prime's rapt gaze, Chromia's optics squeezed shut as she allowed herself to imagine, just for a second, that it was his mouth sucking her feverishly. She just barely stopped herself in time from screaming his name as her interface contracted rapidly, covering the femmes face with lubricant as she gave into the wave of release that crashed over her.
As the femme straightened up, Chromia grabbed her hips and lowered them onto her mouth, nibbling and licking. It was an awkward position, the femme standing as the seated Chromia pleasured her, but neither seemed to mind, least of all Optimus, who was treated to another new experience. The young femme, aroused by her leaders feverish gaze, came violently, thighs streaming with liquid as they trembled around Chromia's head.
Chromia stood, offering her chair to the drained femme, who collapsed into it weakly. Her optics met with Prime's, and an electric current of desire passed between them. Optimus turned away slightly, breaking the contact. "I'd better go," he muttered, knowing that there were some places he shouldn't go, and his mate's best friend was one of them.
"Perhaps you should," Chromia said softly, confirming the forbidden nature of their gaze.
"Thanks for helping out tonight. You're a good friend to us both," Optimus said warmly.
Chromia smiled. "You'd better get back to her soon."
He nodded, "Good night," then headed towards his quarters. He slipped into bed next to his beloved, too exhausted to do anything but hold her, and she too drained to do anything but return the gesture.
"I'd like to see a repeat performance by Chastity," he murmured. She giggled, "Only if you'll drink less!" They kissed, then fell asleep in each other's arms.
end of Chapter Three
go to Chapter Four- The Bonding Ceremony
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