I was not going to let him get to me. We had a mission to do. We made our way to the hangar bay we slept in. We were not here to sleep at the moment. Beta's hip was first to feel Gamma's firm hand. She chuckled as she shut her eyes. Gamma's voice was impossible for her to resist. "Turn around." he instructed. She obeyed. She could probably feel the other aeromorphs staring at her. Gamma's gaze in particular was intensifying. Boring into the back of her head. Capturing her form. Feeding his lust. "Bend over." he commanded. The next command was followed without complaint too. Beta's lithe frame titled forward, lowering her wing-pack and giving a better view of her rear. He left a hand upon her thigh, sliding and touching her ass. We all watched as his fingers stroked between where the exhaust nestled atop her bare cheeks. Pinching the strap of his underwear, he pulled sharply. His jockstrap came away quickly, sliding down his legs as the slender morph in front of him froze up, now resigned to fate. His actions exposed the synth-skin. We were waiting for it to happen.
Gamma smiled. Below the same dark, rubbery sphincter surrounded by yellow-and-black warning markings and the words 'KEEP CLEAR OF OPENING' that we all shared; the lips of her pussy could be seen. Gamma's eager digits were not going for that just yet. A further fondling let him tease out the tightness that faced his fingertips. "That's the stuff," he rumbled, "you gotta nice pucker." "Gee...thanks," Beta replied teasingly, looking back at him over her shoulder. Without much care for his willing captive's comfort, Gamma took his forefinger and pressed against her squinting asshole. Beta grit her teeth as the large digit forced her to open up, the flinching walls of her insides refusing to budge, but relenting under the assault. Sliding in up to the knuckle, the male aero whistled, appreciating the tight tunnel he'd be privy to tonight. She grimaced as he moved back-and-forth, reciprocating his entry, getting deeper and deeper. Small quantities of emergency lubricant deployed along his internal length to prevent chafing, but that only helped the intruding digit slide in further.
His fingers now slick with industrial lubricant, Gamma removed it with a wet pop. Watching her hole scrunch shut after exiting left us all horny, and he was desperate to relieve his tremendous erection. It hovered close to Beta's thighs, sometimes glancing the rich, alluring texture of cold biosteel. Tingling sensations ran through his nerves, tantalizing each fiber of his being. Bringing his hand to his mouth, he opened up his mechanical jaws and let his tongue emerge. From behind serrated teeth it swirled. The serpentine organ writhed continuously before finally tasting his finger. Gamma let the harsh flavor of Beta's juices settle, fueling his hunger. Finished tasting his prey, he placed his hand on her back, squarely pressing down and keeping her bent over. Exercising his grip, he felt out the shape of Beta's wingpack, sliding from the center outwards, appreciating the smooth metal surface. Another bevvy of prods at her pucker brought fleeting gasps; digits spreading her wide. Keeping his other hand in its place, he let his invading fingers retreat, catching his erect cock along the way.
I watched him. Pumping his length for a second, he let his spear drip, eager to dock and 'top' his hapless 'bottom'. A long, rolling grumble filled the air. The atmosphere grew much the same as Beta's muscles did: tenser. The sounds of her dominator moving behind left her to worry. Eyes shut. Breathing erratically. Bated hunger oozed from the timbre of the male aeromorph's voice. A tickling tremor, coursing through her lithe and sinuous form. All of her sensors blared with new information. Warnings. Emotions. All in anticipation of Gamma's humbling girth. When his tip met the cool biosteel of her fuselage, everything changed. Gamma's jaw opened, and slackened, as the cold gave way to lukewarm rubber -- the tight asshole defending as best it could. His hypersensitive tip nudged gently against the barrier, the male taking time to arrive at the best position. Each slight push excited him. Each rough nudge against the quivering synth-flesh let him gauge his approach. Tactics flared across his mind -- calculations normally reserved for combat, mental acuity earmarked for war used for breeding.
