TK-Productionz: Okay this is just a cute little fluff with drama and sexual undertones, I love Mikaela and Optimus pairings and I am sad because I just couldn't write a graphic smut that would give this addictive pairing justice. Still I did and enjoy writing it and I hope you find it cute, in the very least. Sorry to tease, I just screwed up whenever I wrote anything that got these two beyond second base.

The Effects of Fingers on His Engine's Pistons

The hour of the day was beyond the description of late. To term the last remaining hour of the afternoon was as clichéd in its use as was the predicament of her current situation.

Stuck in Single'sville yet again without so much as a decent piece of eye-candy to lessen her troubles.

She punted the malformed husk of an empty Pepsi can as her thoughts took on the voice of a hardly sympathetic, cantankerous, plus sized New York woman. Watching it land after creating a long arc, a slight clank sounded as it hit the cold, moist sand on the beach she now roamed. The can failed to make enough distance to appease the board committee of athlete promotion in the NFL, but it was an accomplished yardage for her.

10 feet while depressed, and in high-heels no less!

Things in her life turned for the worst after she was confronted with the tragedy of Sam and Bumblebee developing feelings for each other. The torture on her life began during the several weeks she competed against a sentient robot for Sam's affection. In the end she was the one to lose, Sam intervened in her self-destructive behavior, wanting to remain her friend but choosing Bumblebee as his lover. She still theorized if the loss proved to make her stronger or if it began to lay waste to the foundation that was her sense of self worth.

At least the breakup had proceeded as a kind, honest separation in comparison to the unnerving, post-trauma that occurred when she broke off relations with Trent. From that day, all the way to the earlier part of today's school day, Trent became the source of all her high school adversity. The cretin had done everything in his power, nigh everything in his power and the powers of his blind followers to give her the equivalent experience of a leper amongst high society.

It was a blessing that Sam still held a sense of loyalty to her, perhaps not as an amorous lover but at least as a true friend. He'd defend her every time, the problem with that was that every time was few and undependable whenever crossing paths with Trent. It would seem the jock had foresight abilities to predict exactly where and when she was most vulnerable and alone.

Mentally, she scratched at the fresh, still stinging with blood, metaphorical wound of her latest encounter. The four letter word he addressed her with stung deep and echoed both through the empty halls he called out to her in as well as her mind. It was only a few months ago during a previous encounter with him that she even learned of such a slur. It stung as bad as any slur would when addressing and ostracizing an individual. It labeled her as a whore; a loose woman undeserving of any respect to have bestowed upon her.

Could she ever meet the standards required to be called a slur like that?

A particularly tender area of sand crumpled under the pressure of one of her feeble, stilettoed shoes. In reaction, her body arched in a physical description of full-body whiplash. The movement nearly forced a sprain on the ankle that connected to the stiletto-footed heel that buried into the sand.

Returning to a normal state of balance and symmetrical posture she took the time to consider the metallic cough that sounded behind her just as the tragedy happened.

Though the twist was physically painful, it was pitiful and downy to the harsh lash of pain from embarrassment she now endured. Her choice in outfit for the current soft-sand beach outing was effective in style but not in utility. In the lash of her body to regain balance, the dignified but considerable shortness of her skirt rode high enough on her waist to provide the effect of skin shown equal to the exposure promised to men who pay a four digit expense at a peep show.

Of course…

To seal her doom, it had to be the one person she didn't need or want to see the vividness of her sherbet orange thong displayed as her skirt rode up when she bent forward. Though she really didn't want anyone to see the erotic piece of lingerie or the effect of its vividness, the reasons she didn't want Optimus Prime to see such was because he recently expressed harbored feelings for her.

Undoubtedly the unexpected, unintended display of skin would be a lit match to the gallon of gas that was the outcome of his desire for her.

She turned painfully around, the blood so hot in her face she thought it would melt her skin off. The sun was behind him, or rather in his height, it seemed he unintentionally held the sun hostage behind him. Rays shot through anatomical cutouts and spaces between his metallic frame and acted to blind her.

Currently, the sun was her ally, through blinding her, it helped to make her face more bold and brave. With her eyes squinted, her face took on an unintentional sternness and indifference. To address someone who evoked senses of passion as well as uncomfortable feelings that brought her to tears whenever addressing him, it was good to have the separation now being involuntarily expressed. The sun blinded her from the fears she suffered whenever considering his feelings for her.

Now looking at him, what she saw was unlike the Autobot commander in every form. The adolescent expression on his face compromised every quality expressed in the past that proved his authority, wisdom and achievements as a leader. The unintentional, almost baby-dog like expression in his beautiful blue eyes and slightly open mouth made her reconsider her answer to the question of if she was the definition of the four letter slur. While he quickly made effort to correct his animal like reaction to her revealed flesh she stood in the sand, stiletto heel still buried, feeling cheap and slutty.

He felt mortified, he really did.

To be so feral in reaction to her revealed backside and slight display of covered genitals, he was no better than the marauding Decepticon, Scorpinok. Though, closing his jaw whilst in thought, he had a great volume behind his doubts that the Decepticon grunt would react or even give notice to a human female's genitalia. He did his best to return to his original state of reserved nature and earned authority. Such efforts were futile since nothing could be done to prevent the burning hole in his CPU from the image of the practically neon colored garment sensuously caressing the definition of her sex.

She had rejected his offer, why could he not just move on and accept the relationship they already had with each other?

Perhaps the accidental display was a sign from Primus. Replaying the involuntary visual recording of her trip and exposure, he now accepted the excuse his arms specialist, Ironhide had said for years.

It's just as easy to heed warnings from Primus as it is to ignore them…

In past interrogations, the trigger happy specialist would use this quote to explain the motives behind why craters would spontaneously form on walls and ceilings of their previous bases.

The saying really held weight behind it now that he used it to excuse the fact that he continued to replay the image of her exposed behind for pleasurable purposes.

The current sight of her jarred his focus from the transgression. As soon as his optics readjusted onto her, he quickly deleted the accidental record; a cataract of guilt rose to dampen the fire of his spark.

Though he realized she did not wish to show it, organic cleaning fluid leaked from her eyes.

Why did she cry? What could possibly be rational about the expression of sorrow now in full force upon her face?

Her inner voice criticized her current use of human expression, it really didn't do anything to aid her in her wailing but it did make her realize what was to come. Crying in the situation before her would only change her moment of adversity into a category of full, dramatized catastrophe.

She lifted her hand to wipe at the rebellious tears wetting her face and destroying her makeup. Though unwelcome, the tears were rejuvenating to the heat of her slightly sunburned face, too bad everything else about her crying proved detrimental to her current situation.

When her vision finally ceased to blur, due to the emergence and release of a particularly fat tear, she stared at Prime only to have a flock of obese tears stream from her eyes.

He had shifted down to one knee, an arm reaching tenderly for her. Such kindness and love presented to her, even when she felt like a repugnant harlot. She could take no more kindness, especially not after today's incident; this was the straw to break her constitution.

As undignified as possible, she sprang for his hand, burrowing her self into his palm, the ink stains of her mascara smudging onto his metal skin as she wept uncontrollably.

The force of guilt and rejection based grief now created a tight noose around his spark but they were light pricks compared to the stab of empathy he felt for her. The pressure tightened even more so when his palmar sensors detected the trembling of her hyperventilation. It was like cradling a baby bird as it died; each shake from her uncontrolled spasms to suck in air sent him over the edge. Overwhelmed by the upsetting sound of her choked wails, he did not hear the warning message sounded by his internals. When he saw her attempt to regain coherent speech, he chose to ignore the interior klaxon. He focused all of his audio receptors on her in attempt to drown the ever present alarm.

It had been an earth month since the moment he expressed his feelings for her. In midst of uncontrolled tears and mucus she told him she was not ready to start a new relationship, in a sob she said that she was still recovering from the mutual ending between her and Sam. As the intelligent and mature leader of the Autobots, he accepted her decline with understanding and continued to pursue the relationship of being her friend. Still, amidst even the most accepting and understanding of mature sentient beings, a hurt from rejection can harbor and pick away at the victim. For a month he evaded Ratchet's routine physicals and scans, always finding an excuse or way to override the monitor system so his internals would remain unchecked. For 4 earth estimated weeks he chose to lend a deaf audio receptor to the warnings his systems nagged about. It was the continuing choice of such self-mutilation to drown his misery that existed as the cause for his current collapse.

Between Mikaela's screams of alarm and calling for Ratchet, the debilitated leader pursued to argue with her about his current state of health. His debate of being fine was nearly surreal as his electronic voice twanged several paces of speed and octaves, while vivid, white hot sparks shot out of the crease in his chest.

She threw the pack she hauled to the ground, her attention divided between the dire need to pursue the bag's contents and remain vigilant of Prime's dangerous state of health. She whipped her vision between her harried clawing through her pack and tear filled gawks at the cringing Autobot leader. Notebooks, makeup, tampons and various assortments of paper were thrown into the air like the ceremonious rice throwing during a wedding. In her rash pursuit she knew that her cell phone was likely resting inside Bumblebee's interior at the moment, so her hopes turned into prayer for her utility pack. For her sake and that of the dying Optimus Prime behind her, fingers painfully jabbed the stiff leather encasing of her tool kit.

She didn't run to him, the urgency of the situation didn't require such. Instead, she shot towards him as if in pursuit of suicide to crash against his chassis upon impact. What she saw was pain being shown as his flickering eyes wandered to look at her. In actuality, His inquiring gaze was a simple response to try and see what it was that suddenly bounced off of him.

Unlike all the other times both were together, the personal bubble she cemented to her form was obviously gone. She climbed up his side, not a single interfering thought to consider the personal invasion or indignity of her body when it rubbed or pressed against his.

She grunted; her left hand had sliced against a sharpened edge when she became too anxious to climb up.

It wasn't so much that Optimus was steep…

It was the particularly slick parts of his frame, the fact that she remained disabled by her choice of heels and that the edge was just out of reach, which made climbing up him an exacting difficulty.

Still, despite all the inconveniences, she managed to reach his chest. Nearly straining her arm to reach, the palm stung and stretched against the heated metal as she pulled her self the last three feet. At the top she stared in horror at the sprays of flesh incinerating sparks. Her drive to help him faltered as she found his chest in the current situation resembling quaking earth. She latched on to what she could, the metal encasing his spark began to heat to the point that her knees began to burn. She squealed as her stupid shoes administered her weight to lift her uncovered legs from the metal.

Not red hot, not even a tint different from how it normally appeared but heated enough to leave red marks on her skin. She flung her long, wavy sleeves around her hands to block the heat, thankful that the frilly shirt actually had a use. Crawling somewhat indignantly like an animal, she chanced the possibility of loosing balance and falling face first to be incinerated by his white hot chest.

Reaching him, her faulty emotional control proved to mangle her balance as much as her antifeminist footwear. His face shuddered with pain, every bolt, sheet of metal and wire was heavy and contorted as agony thrashed his being. She wailed uncontrollably as she set aside all inhibitions and dived forth to act against the problem. Prying his chest plates open with a strength and remarkable pain threshold neither thought she possessed her hands dove into the spark chamber. The soft, polyester-silk blend of her white sleeves quickly burned with the torrent of sparks, remaining only in thin, black tatters at the base of her elbows. Her head ducked and whipped in random to prevent her eyes from being burned out as the unsystematic shootings of sparks occasionally shot in her exact direction. In her blind wrenching of wires and loosening of plates to reach his core; her vision began to waver from what was at hand to find blue eyes staring at her person.

In all aspects, it was not Prime who suffered at the moment; it was Mikaela because of her probable but indefinitely wrong diagnosis. Though it was important for his internals to relay such information, the malady he experienced for a month was not life threatening.

Bodily devastating, yes, quite so in fact or sparks would not be shooting from his chest, but for his physical regeneration enabled species he could live on.

One particular shot of white sparks forced her to flip back and contort in such a way that was noticed by Prime. He felt disturbed and guilty when the simple reaction called the girl to scramble back to work on his chest, nearly diving in head first when she arrived. The guilt was quickly overridden however; as he felt her hands flutter around his spark.

He could not help it but moan audibly and allow his optics to flicker as an electronic pulse of passion rolled over him.

This only made things worse as Mikaela panicked, mistaking the sound as a death rattle. He shook uncontrollably as her hands began working faster and applying more pressure around the complex circuit board encasings of his spark.

She wailed as her hand shot back, the backside of it singed to a decent second degree burn. In her panicked state of hearing more moans from Prime her hand accidently made contact with the outer aura of energy from the spark. In result, the white, hot intensity of his pure energy spark incinerated her skin.

What was a near burning for her was an uncontrollable jolt of pleasure for Prime.

In her panic she didn't notice how his mouth opened, not in moans of pain but faux gasps of arousal.

She suffered in such a state of dramatic irony because of the symbolism of having his chest plate open to her.

Having his chest plate open was equivalent to the effect of a man's zipper being pulled down with the undergarment fly open.

Not really caring how her thong would be visible in what she presumed to be dire circumstances she crawled around the opening to position her body at the top point.

Prime couldn't really help the natural pulling his neck servos took in response to her position. With a blind eye towards his guilt, he craned his neck forward to have a perfect view of her exposed hindquarters and orange thong.

Each time she bent forward to reach down and stimulate his spark, a little more of her lovely buttocks and bright orange genital garment was revealed to his prying eyes. Peering through the space between her legs he saw her face. The look she wore devastated him to the point that his primal lust could finally be overridden.

"Um… Mikaela…?"

His voice faltered, a tone he never really had the chance to express without being radically oppressed right after.

She turned around slowly, her organic eyes wide, her face in shock as if she had turned to witness the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Obviously she didn't know that he was still quite conscious and quite, in fact, undamaged.

"I'm alright… Really."

He watched in still anxiety as her face digested the words, and he gawked in shock as she for a second time burst into shameless tears.

He lifted his arms, his hands closed around her, careful not to shift and send her falling into the white heat of his spark's core. As he continued to speak, his core began to cool down, the sparks still shot out, but his body's cooling system finally lowered the temperature of his outer plating back to normal.

"Mikaela, I vow that I am alright. What I suffer from is of a…… Different pain…"

He felt her shaking form suddenly perk at the last two words. Slowly, still resting on her knees, she peered over his hand as one would do over a fence. He rumbled his vocal processor to distract his undulating thought synaptics as his palmar sensors detected the heat of her supple breasts touching his palm.

"What do you mean..?" Her voice was strong with a forceful inquiry but her crying still faltered it slightly.

"I… Um… I suffered from when you declined to my courting proposal."

As if a plate of opaque glass suddenly conjured between them she stared at him, protracting her head while squinting eyes.

He felt regret now bringing her into the light about his dismay but if he refused he would further be plunged into glitch-like behavior of being teased and pleasured at the price of her honor.

"I was hurt when you said no to my asking if you would be my partner…"

Her head drew back in a gesture of comprehension.

To prevent further destruction to her honor he spoke before she could turn and continue ineffectual repairs on him.

"Mikaela… What you're doing is no where near repairing my circuits. Uh… In fact, what you're doing is... um…………. Pleasuring me…"

With the last two words he saw her eyes grow to gargantuan proportions. But her brow quickly lowered as he saw a wave of perplexity wash over and clear her shock. She scrunched her lips and brow in disbelief.

"You mean that this--" As her hand experimentally lowered over his spark her words and the rest of the air in her lungs was stolen as a great lash of his thorax flung her into the air.

Terrified, it took her a few moments before embarrassment overtook her and turned her a passionate shade of burgundy.

Aah-ahhh….

She moaned as her sex was pressed against the lower lip of Optimus Prime, the vibration of his dialogue still reverberated through his lips as he instinctually made the human sound of a gasp.

"Oh….Gawd…" She tried to stifle the second moan that escaped her lips but to no avail. Her fingers splayed over his facial plating as she shifted her weight to feel more of the nice warmth and vibration of his metal.

At this point she didn't care if he heard her or not, she was longing for arousal and the reverberation of his lip acted as a perfect outlet.

It had been too long since she had an orgasm, never finishing when she was alone or not in the right predicaments to masturbate when she was in the mood. She couldn't help her sudden arousal at the moment, the arousal started when sexual curiosity crept into her mind right after he stated her work was pleasuring him.

Cruel adversity grasped her when his hand reached up and gently plucked her off of his lip. She hung in his clutches limp and lifeless, knowing how indignant it would be if she decided to resist.

When she was balanced on his lower lip he realized the position was accurate to a non-coital sexual activity between humans. Savoring the moment for no less than 13 seconds, he took a few of those seconds to look up the definition for the position; the internet provided several varying terms deducing the same activity. Choosing one, he decided to himself that he was accidentally giving her "fellatio." With his own insatiable rise of arousal, the jolt of his sensors from hers incited an indirect pleasure to emanate. Realizing it was the strong vibrations radiated from his vocal projector, he let out a slight noise, curious to see her reaction. He couldn't help the slight pulse of his spark, obviously aroused, as his experiment caused her to grasp at his facial plating and shift until he could detect what was her covered, but for some reason moistened undergarment directly on his lip.

The loud moan and calling out of her human creator's name made him end such a pleasuring experiment. He felt disgusted with himself, still painfully aroused in the moment but he also felt appalled which debilitated his lust.

Regrettably, he removed her from his face, sensors now completely centered on her, he felt entranced by the sudden rise in her body's natural heat.

Setting her down, he wondered exactly how to satisfy his hungry self and maintain their friendship; the engorged energy of his spark sucked him of his vigor.

A barely audible clearing of the throat came through his audio circuits and he turned from his thoughts to look at her.

She shifted on the ground, purposely burying her stilettos into the sand as she fumbled to speak. Each time she opened her mouth her words would turn into liquid and practically spill out from her lips in a disarray of sound.

Looking at him, her sense of self perseverance finally arrived to help her direct herself. This time she didn't break down into tears. Instead she had to work hard to keep herself from breaking down into a fit of aroused giggles. She couldn't help herself; the feeling was as pleasurable as it was implausible. By swift accident, she had received temporary oral sex from the leader of the Autobots, that in itself was something no one else on the planet, let alone the universe, had bragging rights over. She also had to sustain herself due to how silly he looked.

All he need's now are a pair of goofy looking boxers and there would be no way to tell him apart from a regular dude suffering from blue balls…

Though blue balls was no laughing matter, the position in which Prime was splayed out on the beach and the suffering look he unintentionally gave was a definite matter to laugh over.

She bit her lip, now in the lime light of his attention she found herself with conversational stage fright. Rubbing her legs together, her stimulated clitoris nearly sent her to the ground in spasms. Taking a deep breath, she managed to squeeze out a sentence, word by word.

"Aheaugh…" Not a very intelligible way to start but at least she found that her tongue could move. "I… Think…."

God how was she going to say this and maintain a respectable image in Optimus's perspective? Not only that but how was she going to hide the fact that her face was now as red as a rose?

She watched his helpless expression when she doubled over into a stream of squeaky giggles.

Oh why did she always seem to make things worse?

"Umm…" She was unsuccessful yet again.

When all else fails, bluntness is the only option for resolution. Not caring about sinking or swimming, she just closed her eyes and took the proverbial dive.

"I think I'm ready to move on and…. Consider you're feelings."

Now she was a harlot, a tramp, the C-word for Christ's sake… What would he think of her? She had nearly killed him, she had unknowingly teased him, and now she was basically stating that her sudden brush with arousal made it ok for them to start a relationship.

She felt her heart pound against her chest as tears crept into her eyes, ready to drain her already dehydrated state. Shutting her eyes, she awaited his response, the silence and seconds ticking by stabbed at her self confidence.

She jerked out of surprise when a metallic hand suddenly grasped her; she felt gentle air brush past her face. Opening her eyes, her shoulders clenched against her collarbones as she was now practically kissing his nose.

She felt so warm against his face, it seemed so impossible that a metal giant could nuzzle her so gently. She found her puffy eyes looking into his, only to see that the beautiful orbs that ringed his eyes were shut off, the shutters pulled down to close his optics.

"Please Mikaela…" He whispered, so soft and gentle she didn't believe it came from him. "Don't cry…"

She sniffed suddenly to keep her nose from doing its independent desire to drip. She nodded silently, more to herself than to him. She found herself shaking when he continued.

"Mikaela…. You are the first in what has been several millennia spent in cold isolation. I love you Mikaela… You make me feel whole again, you complete me…………. So please…" She both felt and heard a whimper come from his face which appeared as if he were about to cry. Such emotion that pulsed from him; her heart was ready to burst as he quivered while speaking his feelings. "For my sake, don't cry." She heard him whimper again.

"Know that I love you with every particle of my being, and I wish for no one else but you…"

"Okay…" She wasn't doing as he asked but at least her tears were for different emotions. "I…. I love you too… That day you first said you loved me, it was one of the happiest days of my life," She burst into tears. "I was just so afraid…" She hugged his face as she let her emotions and tears spill onto him. "But I'm so happy now, I love you so much. I never met a person like you in my entire life; your soul is so loving and pure… I love you so much; I don't think I could ever love someone else like I love you…."

She lifted her head to find warm, blue eyes looking into her soul. They were equal now, both could relax in each other's company now thanks to the loving words they said.

She laid her head upon his cheek, smiling as he nearly purred when her fingers traced the area where cheek connected to the disassembled mask. Her other had reached for his brow ridge, she felt him smile when she traced the silver and blue plates.

Not exactly sure of what she was doing she turned her head so that it now pressed directly onto his face, lips within an inch of the warm metal. She lowered her head until she could feel her lipstick begin to press and mark the steel, her lips came together and the natural little sucking that accompanied such an action came and made a squeak as her lips drew away. She heard him sigh as she kissed his face; again and again she saw that look of pure delight. His eyes were closed but he smiled and made such cute little sounds each time her lips met his metal skin. Eyeing her handy work, she giggled aloud as several sherbet orange smudges of lipstick decorated his cheek.

"Sorry…" She giggled.

His warm smile made her knees weak, "Don't be, I really like the new addition to my paint job…" He commented, wishing he could see the lipstick marks now allover his right cheek.

He felt dizzy when she kissed him, his spark nearly leapt out of its protective casing each time her soft, slightly moistened lips met his metallic skin. The reasons for his spark's action were beyond simple lust, it erupted so in ultimate love for her, the idea of having her with him now was a spiritual blessing from Primus.

Her emotions had begun to slide down her; emanating from her heart and soul, the slippery feelings drifted all the way down her, finally settling within that deep spot where her red chakra was located. Having lust overcome her, her embrace became more erotic and playful.

She wondered if he even noticed the way her breasts were suggestively pressed against his face as her foot slid from his hand to touch his neck. The plating nearly ripped off her white shirt when his head drew back in animal-like pleasure as her foot had hit a sweet spot on his neck. The guttural moan he roared made her own sweet spot go crazy. She smiled at him, her right hand stroking his lip. She giggled as his lips pursed to kiss her hand.

Looking at her, she found his eyes were now emblazoned with what she could only peg as an extremely hungry look. Not saying a word he lowered her and placed her on his collar. She took the hint that the area of and around his neck was just as sensitive to arousal as a human's.

She began to experiment, finding an oddly corded thing of wire in which there seemed to have orb like protrusions lining it. It was tucked between what was the roof and the metal bracketed windshield of his alt mode, she stuck her left hand in and stroked.

Oooooohhhhh!!! His deep voice now seemed to boom in a deep base as his head flung back, metal lips curling.

She noticed his artificial catching of breath when her index finger honed in on one of the strange, circular bumps, tracing it, she felt him become rigid. Mistaking such stiffening for pleasure, she used all of her fingers to stroke it faster than she did before. His reaction was unexpected and she felt her self become even more aroused as he giggled. She was tickling him, how? She figured the bumps she stroked were highly sensitive enough that her light touching made it unbearable.

"Mikaela…" His laughs were now deep chuckles as he struggled to speak as he was being tickled. "S-stoh-hop…"

Climbing down him, her sense of heights barely became an issue once she kicked off her useless stilettos; she made her way down to his abdomen and chest.

Since he figured she had become curious of his sex, he gently lowered himself until he was laid out with his back on the beach. He was in for a torturous surprise when he found her tiny fingers stroking the sensory bumps of the wires located around his abdomen and chest. He crunched forward and then arched his back, the tickling was unbearable but he had just enough of a threshold to keep himself from flailing out of control and risking possible injury to his love.

Still his screams of laughter must have been quite amusing because he heard a cute chuckle from her every now and then when his processor wasn't dipped in ticklish disarray. He jolted with a loud half guffaw, half yelp when one of her slender arms snaked its way to find one of the sensitive wires just below his grill (ribs). The back of his head buried deep into the moist sand. That area; he always made sure no bot would find it or it would be his demise. In the end it was a human; his human, his love that had him screaming for mercy, his processor was now putty as she tickled that area of weakness.

Now fully aroused, she felt he received enough torture for one day, removing her fingers from the bumps and her arms from the nook in his plating she watched as his body slumped tiredly with a loud thud. She noticed how he stiffened defensively, afraid of repercussions, as she climbed back up to his chest.

Instantaneously his body stiffened again when her hand traced the indent of the seam of his spark casing. Licking her lips seductively, she let out a little giggle when she saw his brow arches stuck high against his fore head.

Crawling toward him like an exotic animal she felt the space between her legs tingle as a beautiful smile set across his face. Kissing his metal lips she instantaneously felt at one with the universe. His lips were so smooth and warm that the love that beamed from his lips to her lips drenched her body in intense, hot nirvana.

The pleasurable "Mmm…" he made reverberated through her entire body, echoing in her loins.

Smiling at him she listened intently as he drew away from her lips to speak. "You're quite impromptu…" He purred nuzzling the side of her head with his lips which prompted more shivers to stir within her.

Feeling a little feisty in her aroused state she seductively bit back, "And you're not impromptu at all…"

"I can be impromptu too…"

"When tanks fly…." She said while stroking what appeared to be a metal analogue of an adam's apple.

While his eyes rolled up in pleasure of her fingers caressing his neck, he became aware of the position of the sun in the sky. It hung very low at the horizon, turning the sky into a beautiful peach and orange sorbet as it neared the endless span of the meridian ocean. Sadly the day was finally coming to end and Optimus wished with all his might that twilight would not arrive. It was his duty as Autobot commander to return to the destination they had agreed to re-group at to once the day ended. For once he was actually happy to have failed at finding any decepticons in hiding. Instead of the enemy, he had found something so much better, love from the one person he desired after so many years of being alone. Looking down at her he saw that they shared the same expression, he would bet his processor that she was on the same wave-length as his at times.

"So I guess we have to get back to the others…?" She let her hand drop, not meaning to drag her nails against the sensitive metal. The action made his spark burn just a little bit hotter.

"Ahh…" He could help the shudder at her accidental action. When they had time to go further with their relationship he would have to have her do that again, it was amazing. "Uh, yes, unfortunately…"

She gave him one of her life-giving smiles that always made his spark soar. "I guess we'll just have to come here again real soon." Then she smiled and played coy, "cuz'… Well you never do know if a decepticon will be hiding around here or not."

He smiled warmly, "No way to tell unless we come again."

With that he drove them back to the rendezvous point just as the brilliant sun began to set. They would come back soon; the next time both would have the privilege to express their true feelings to the other in the most physical form of passion.

The tk: Cute?