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“You want us to…?”
A day where Tundra was able to leave his training and Fuse his work, saw Blast request them to come by the trailer he lived in. It wasn’t uncommon for he to want to hang out, stay together with the bots he’d become so close to, but today sounded a little different. There seemed to be something off when he sent them the request.
“Help.” Blast sounded a little breathless when he spoke, prompting Fuse and Tundra to share looks, which he tried to explain as soon as possible. “Look, I… my balls have been killing me, and doing it alone doesn’t seem to be working.”
There was a pause, where the other two contemplated on what the issue could actually be. “Your… balls?” The electrician continued.
With a small huff, the pyrotechnic pulled them both from the outside of the trailer’s stairs, bringing them inside.
It was a cozy place. The main room was a mixture of study and the bare essentials for robot repairs, with magazines stacked by the desk which supported many bomb project papers. There was also a mini toy of the man himself, apparently gifted to him by the nearby amusement park’s staff. The left door at the end was the resting room, and the right door was the washroom, all tiles with a showerhead and buckets.
Once inside, Blast wasted no time in willing his genitals out, looking towards his guests as if the mere sight explained everything. “They feel heavy and full and annoying. Hell, I had to masturbate just to be able to put them back in, because they don’t want to go back in. It’s driving me insane.” The scowl was plain on his tanned face, and, once more, the other two shared looks.
The skater was the first to move then, drawing in close to the pyro to gently cup the dark testicles, eliciting a shiver from their owner. “Oh.” Indeed, not only did they look big, but they felt bloated, if at all possible.
“I just want them to stop.” Blast gritted his teeth, then gasped as the cupping turned into squeezing, the single gesture by itself almost making his knees buckle. He also felt so sensitive, damn it.
“You should sit.” Tundra murmured, as much to himself as to the other, freeing his hands to lightly push back against the shoulders in front of him until he got him sitting on a sofa chair. “Fuse?”
Said robot sighed faintly through his nose, approaching the duo with no complaints. Between him and Tundra, he was the only one with a mouth, so it often befell him the task of pleasing their partner with it. He opened Blast’s legs and crouched between them, gazing for a moment at the soft, black penis and balls before him. A meaningful look was sent the pyro’s way, before he took the length in his mouth all in one go.
Blast cried out, body arching backwards and head spikes digging into the back of the chair. The calmer of the three slowly plucked said head from the now-damaged furniture, feeling his partner shiver against his hands and emit little mewls. He really was sensitive.
“Unn, I missed this.” The column writer breathed out, loving the pleasant tiny sparks Fuse’s mouth offered. As much as he could be severely messed up by the other’s electricity if something went wrong, the thought somehow just added an edge to the pleasure, while the usual emission did its job of a low-powered vibrator.
The electrician focused on suckling as best as he could, looking up at Tundra once he felt the cold of his hands graze his chin, in their quest to try to roll the testes around. Blast started moaning, driven crazy by the increasing pressure in his insides, the chilly touch of the ice robot not helping much in the flurry of sensations. This—this was why he couldn’t do this alone.
A sharper cry, and the pyro dug at the arms of the chair, a quiver resonating in his whole body as the pressure built to near-unbearable; he was close.“G-Gonna blow.” He panted in warning, drawing into himself, and felt a little breeze close to his cheek; the skater was soon there, nuzzling his partner affectionately, whispering sweet encouragements.
Fuse could tell he was near the end, and hummed his approval with the thick member down his throat. This time, he let it slowly slide out of his mouth as it dribbled more and more pre, then licked the slit as a final offering.
Quaking, Blast sounded like he was crying before he wailed; a voluminous spurt flew through the air, then a second, third, and it didn’t stop there. Tundra looked pretty satisfied with himself, fuchsia hooded as he traded intimate touches for embracing the other through his orgasm.
An audible, shaky sigh came from the pyro at his testes finally emptying; the pressure was loading off, giving him relief. Some of the semen was landing on Fuse and his batons, which he didn’t particularly mind, as long as his partners were fine. He still moved to the side to be able to watch him better; the cute, shivering ‘explosion artist’ being held by the ice master, who seemed to be positively glowing with gratification. Yes—these moments, he wouldn’t trade for anything else in the world.
The spurts became weaker, dying off into dribbles, sliding down dark synth skin onto the now-emptied testes, and the chair. Tundra pressed the spot of his mouth against the other’s heated cheek, a kiss without lips, and exhaled his appreciation. “Feel better?”
Blast shook a little more, and they caught his penis dribbling again—this time, it was water, and it started streaming out in an even flow. It was then that his form went semi-lax against his companion’s. “S-sorry.” He nuzzled against the taller’s neck. “Wanted to… get all the pressure out… Feels so good…”
Once more, the other two shared a fond look, with the electrician smearing some of the semen off his helmet. “You’re fine.” Tundra assured, reciprocating the nuzzles. “Let it all out.”
Some cleaning up and cuddles were likely in line for them. As for Blast’s need to be emptied… perhaps they would require a new routine planned to take care of that.
…Actually, definitely need a new routine.