#thighfucking

When you wake up, it is to the heady scent of lubricant and the stiff heat of Drift’s spike against your aft as he lay behind you. His face is buried in your neck, you could feel his hot vents against your plating.

“Drift, honey,” You groan. It’s early, he can’t blame you for turning him down, right? Your servo holds the side of his helm, “I’m really not in the mood right now.”

“Please?” He whines, “Are you sure?” You feel his spike throb against you, and with the neediness and lust in his voice, you don’t think you have it in you to properly turn him down. But you’re just too tired.

“Drift,” The word is only a sigh. Your processor is already trying to doze back off into recharge. “Fine, but I’m not letting you use my valve right now.”

“Then what-?”

“Frag my thighs, if you want your overload so bad.”

The roar his engine gives is almost deafening behind you; it leaves your audio receptors ringing in its wake. You’d rarely seen Drift have such a strong reaction to anything. Maybe he just really likes your thighs, you wonder.

You feel the hot length of his spike, slick with his own lubricant already, pushing through the sensitive space between your thighs. The top of it brushes and rubs against your shut interface panel, and while you feel yourself heating up to a degree, its nowhere near enough to get you to actually do anything about it.

It takes Drift a moment to find his rhythm, but once he does his hips are bucking, driving his spike through the cleft that you so graciously allowed him to use. His warm vents huff against your shoulder, and his servos trail and explore your body.

He buries his face in your neck, continuing to hump and thrust against your frame, pursuing his own pent up overload. You can’t fault yourself for deciding to give him a little assistance, now can you? You squeeze your thighs together ever so slightly, just enough to add a little pressure, before you feel the hot, sticky rush of transfluid flooding between your legs and spilling out onto the berth. Drift’s pace slows, the slide of his spike only pushing more and more of his mess to dribble down the top of your leg and down to dirty the berth. His shaky exvents against your back slow and even put before he pulls back, still nuzzling into your neck.

“You’re lucky you have such a lovely conjunx,” You joke, your servo lightly caressing the side of his helm and stroking the edge of his finial. You hear a soft chuckle from him,

Connected | It’s 2009. Dan and Phil are in a long distance relationship, and while they’ve had more sex than they count on one hand, they’ve never properly done it. Dan’s tired of waiting, but Phil’s not so ready to let them go all the way, so he gives Dan the next best thing. | Phan | Mature | Intercrural, Smut, PWP | 3.5K Words

Disclaimer: In no way do I pretend that this is real or cast aspersions on Dan or Phil.

My anons asked for thigh fucking, and they got thigh fucking.