Perks

Blurr was overcharged to the pit and back. Under normal circumstances, this would have been unacceptable. Blurr was on duty in the morning, as well as being fully expected to attend his usual training regimen. Bursting into his superior’s office, stumbling all over himself like a fresh protoform… it was pathetic. Longarm would have to admonish him tomorrow.

“Sir-ooh-Sir-you-really-are-the-best-boss-I-mean-really-I-just-I-can’t-“ Blurr was babbling, in that usual, annoying way of his, slurred by the extra charges shocking his system. He rocked back, deeper than before, and finally managed to take Longarm’s spike all the way to the hilt. Longarm, for his part, appreciatively sighed, doing his best to keep his grip on Blurr’s hips, which were trembling violently. His thrusts were erratic at best, and far too fast, but with a firm hand Longarm was able to guide their coupling better, forcing the smaller mech to move with him.

“I-know-I-shouldn’t-have-drunk-so-much-but-I-really-had-to-tell-you-” he paused for a moment, stuttering out a thick gasp as Longarm reached around their fronts, palming the top of Blurr’s interface equipment “-I-had-to-tell-you-what-a-great-boss-you-are-”

Slick squelching noises filled the room, as obscene as it was arousing. Blurr was soaking wet, lubricant staining down both their thighs and onto the chair beneath them, slowly working into the metal as their movement spread it. It was going to be hell to clean, Longarm thought, grunting in annoyance. Blurr seemed to take his utterance differently, happily launching into another long monologue of praise.

Longarm was beginning to wonder if he should actually be concerned for his agent, who was revving his engine loudly and repeatedly, when Blurr stalled, clenched down around him, and wailed whorishly as he overloaded. Liquid splashed between them, adding to the mess already sopping their legs.

It was both unexpected and incredibly frustrating. Longarm was not half close to his own finish. Blurr had doubled over himself, practically pushing his chin into his knees, still mumbling, somewhat more calmly, about how wonderful his Prime was, how big and kind and good with intimate connections.

This was definitely not acceptable.

Jerking Blurr up by his helm, Longarm managed to stand and simultaneously throw his partner across the desk in front of them. The report he had been working on before he was interrupted was knocked to the floor, sparking on impact. If the squawk he received wasn’t enough to lift his mood again, the satisfying crack of Blurr’s glass plating as it hit the desk certainly was.

Surprisingly, the movement had actually managed to knock Blurr silent. It did not last long though, because Longarm began to thrust again and soon Blurr was sobbing.

“Primus-Sir-!-It’s-too-much-I-oh-ooh-faster-Sir-please-faster-faster-faster-!” Blurr had already had his fun, Longarm decided. It had been a long day, was turning into a long night, and he would be damned before he was left hanging at the end of it. He pounded Blurr, cruelly, not giving his agent enough time to breathe, to think, even. Servos scrabbled against the smooth surface of the desk, data-pads and other utilities falling out of neatly stacked piles and off the side, loudly clattering against the metal.

Blurr was so hot beneath him, practically burning in his hands, cooling fans set to maximum output. His engine purred, sleek as a sports car. It didn’t take long before the agent was flexing around him, pouring lubricants as he spread his legs wider than he should have been able. He screamed once, twice, and overloaded again, explosively.

This time, Longarm was closer, and the sensation was much stronger because of it. With a few deep thrusts he hit it hard, pulsing with waves of transfluid which oozed thickly out the sides of Blurr’s overstressed valve.

Time passed, and eventually Longarm became aware of how disgustingly wet he was. Blurr was, somehow unsurprisingly, the messiest mech he had ever interfaced with. It suited him, he supposed, pulling out and admiring the slick shine of Blurr’s backside in the electric glow of the nighttime. The mesh was dented, even fractured in some small areas. His own servo marks were branded deep in thick black thighs, cupping round just beneath the swell of his shapely aft.

Perhaps, Longarm supposed, he could let this drunken discretion go, just this once. Stepping back to further admire his work, Longarm slipped in the larger-than-expected puddle that had grown between them and fell back into his (horribly sticky) desk chair with an undignified shout.

Perhaps not.