Docking - Tumblr Posts
I guess I'm tagging this as "docking". Because it's hot and I used it as a reference. Spinister giving Fulcrum a bottom surgery, part 2/2. Part 1/2 here.
Fulcrum is still high on his post-overload when he's gathered from the medical workbench and carried towards the living compartment. It's nice to be carried in strong arms for once, he admits a bit moonily. Spinister is going about how his new valve may need him to choose different positions due to its unusual placement. Hands and knees may not work for Fulcrum anymore, missionary may need some practice, but not it's perfect for "Slidin' and glidin', I mean, scissoring, of course".
"What's scissoring?" Fulcrum asks, confused, but the next second his back hits the soft surface of Spinister's berth. And a plushie buries its absurdly big head in his against his shoulder. And one more against his side.
"Misfire gave these guys to me," Spinister says, following his surprised gaze. "They eat bad dreams."
For a moment, Fulcrum thinks that plushies on the berth aren't much of a turn-on. But Spinister's hands are quickly back on him, and, well, he doesn't really mind.
The exam Spinister is giving his still wet neo-valve feels equally like a procedure and a foreplay. He's massaging the petals lightly, spreading them as if admiring his work again, and heat is rising up to Fulcrum vents with such intimate attention.
"You like kissing?" Spinister asks, and as far as Fulcrum knows, it's not something from a medical questionnaire regarding sensor feedback and flexibility, yet he shakes his head yes, and the next moment Spinister's faceplate transforms away.
The kiss is surprisingly soft, almost chaste, but then the slickiest glossa in the world licks out a small moan from Fulcrum's mouth, and it echoes with an odd flutter in his groin. Feels like his spike is struggling to push itself out. But oh, he doesn't have a spike. His processor is still running old arousal protocols, expecting his array to work as it used to in a default set.
With a finger pad pressing at his housing, he holds his vents. With a single phalanx, clutches the bedding. A system warning tells about the pressure being too strong, of possible traumatization. But all what is really getting through his sensornet is a sweet ache. Lost in this dissonance, Fulcrum doesn't have enough processor power to worry about a large helicopter type climbing over him, trapping him under a massive chassis. He catches a glimpse of Spinister's spike: it's conical, with a small pointy tip and a massive base, pink biolights flashing cheerfully at him.
Then there's pink metal before his eyes, and something firm touches his opening. Fulcrum gets a hold on Spinister's sides, steadying himself as he's slowly penetrated. The tip pushes in. And shit, it feels odd. Those mechanisms that used nest his inactive spike and make it pressurize are now gripping the intruding piece, confused. It's not supposed to feel so good. But it is.
Spinister is rocking his hips with the smallest thrusts, fucking Fulcrum with just the tip, mumbling hoarsely about a nice result and a real fine pussy. Not that Fulcrum really minds when a charged head of the spike is irritating his remaining sensors in the best way he's never considered. Less than two minutes after he's desperately banging at the big chest before him with a "Spins, ugh, gonna cum, gonna cum".
Immediately the spike pops free from his wet valve, sliding over his new node before letting out the first burst of thick fluid and sliding again and again.
Fulcrum turns his head to the side to muffle himself with the plushie. It feels like both at the same time. Like overloading with a spike and a valve. He clenches hotly when Spinister lets a bit out right over his opening.
He's cooling down slowly. Mostly because Spinister's heated frame is still trapping him to the bad. Somehow the guy got comfortable on his hands and knees, probably distracted with something Fulcrum can't see.
"Thank you, I guess," Fulcrum tries. "Felt really good. Are you going to let me go?"
"What, you don't wanna try scissorin' now? I was giving your thingy a minute to recover. Ya good now?"
"I... Give me another one, okay? I think we can go one more time. And what's scissoring?"