To be honest, Tarn isn't sure. all he can feel is the tightness in his valve, and the vague sloshing of transfluid trapped inside of him. Everything else is pleasantly numb, lost in a post overload haze.

Tarn relaxes onto Sixshot's lap as they change positions, jostling the hard spike inside of him, sending a jolting aftershock of pleasure through him. He only moans softly in response.

"Mmm...I don't think so..." although he does have a lovely hand shaped dent on his inner thigh. "How long until we...ah, separate?" the DJD Commander isn't in any rush he decides as small shocks of residual charge zap in his hip joints. Tarn strokes the flat of the sixer's wings soothingly in response to the gentle kisses and nuzzles.