Ambulon’s optics brighten as Wing’s lubricant slick array settles near his face. His fingers reach up to gently trace down his twitching spike, just barely teasing it before he takes it firmly in hand, giving it a few solid strokes. Shimmying down a bit, he guides it to his mouth, peppering wet kisses up its length. Shuttering his optics, he laves his tongue over its thick head before slowly sliding it into the heat of his mouth with a low hungry moan. His spike is thick enough to stretch Ambulon’s jaw wide and it sits heavily on his tongue, leaking charge against the medic’s intake.

His free hand grip’s at Wing’s hips, before slowly circling his slick, dripping valve. Massaging his anterior node with gentle rubs, Ambulon uses the copious amounts of lubricant smeared across his array to ease the slide.