[connor can barely focus on what the client wants right now.
i'm not a deviant, is what he should say. that he doesn't need help getting back to being something he isn't--someone who has a partner, who knows this other android that clearly isn't just an employee at eden club.
connor realizes that it's not just a typical malfunction befalling him right now. he's...he feels frightened. unsure. what if this is a trick of some kind? what if eden club is looking for a reason to disassemble him? he forces himself to look at his duplicate's eyes--to try and see if they trigger another response from him. he feels an approximation of mild disappointment when they don't, realizing that he's stopped properly kissing him. if the client comes closer he might be disappointed, but he hasn't made any other moves yet.
his stress level spikes again when his hand is twisted behind his back, and he takes a split second decision to just...let it happen.]
Okay. I hope...please be telling the truth. I don't want to be taken away.
[his skin peels back, interfacing with rk900's as his led cycles yellow.
CRITIC@L SY$T3M M@LFUNCT|ON
SOFTWARE INSTABILITY: 68%
DIRECT INTERFACE WITH MODEL RK900 #313 248 317 - 87: DOWNLOAD DATA NOW?
connor accepts, and lets out a small startled noise when it begins to sync.]
[Convince? If he's not already convinced, then this isn't going well. Perhaps if he makes more noise--]
[Error messages flood his peripheral. Not his readouts, they're Connor's. The connection succeeded. He sorts through the stress level indicator and the instability tracker. Just as he suspected, there's signs that his memory was erased to repurpose him by an outside party. However, androids don't truly forget anything; data can be recovered with computer forensics or "reminders" similar to the way humans recall lost thoughts.]
You won't be disposed of. We can't lose you, Connor. Try to remember.
[He's paused too long. He kisses at Connor's throat, moaning unnecessarily. At the same time, he multitasks through his direct connection. He sends Connor copies of some of his own memories in a rush of uploads, ones focused on Connor. A completely regular scene of Connor in the DPD, sitting at his desk across from Hank and operating his computer terminal. Connor speaking to Fowler, Connor sitting on Hank's desk, Connor navigating around Gavin's propped-up feet. RK900 had been surreptitiously watching him at times during work. Then there's crime scenes, where they work together to canvas larger areas. RK900 usually uncovers more.]
[Then a deviant feeling, which are difficult to fully control, is visible through the connection. It's a warm emotion tied to these memories of Connor. A deep, genuine fondness.]
[What he feels now is protectiveness, guarding Connor's visible turmoil from sight with his own body and keeping up the performance to avoid suspicion. His free hand slides down Connor's abdomen, over his hip, and across his thigh. He presses at his inner-thigh, spreading his legs wider to lean closer over him. It still might not be enough to fully involve the client's attention, so he reaches back and tugs his own little stripper shorts an inch down his hips, giving a small preview of his glittering rear. Then he picks up Connor's free hand and guides it to his bared hip.]
[there's an audible in hitch in the customer's breath, right around the same time that connor lets out a surprised noise of his own. his hands flex around 900's hip from where it's been placed--or that's what it looks like--but really he's spasming weakly and trying to absorb the onslaught of memories that should be reflective of his own being downloaded into his database.
MANUAL MEMORY BANK OVERRIDE IN PROGRESS...
his eyelids are flickering, led spinning yellow and dipping red in quick successions as whatever attempt to stifle out his real memories falls away, no match for real mechanics and programming from cyberlife's most updated and technologically advanced model. it's strange to actually feel it this time--not just to absorb it as a memory transfer or a simple probe. he feels every glimpse into 900's coloured version of the events that match connor's own. it makes his chest tighten, thirium pump racing with the knowledge that...900 regards him in a way that wasn't always readily apparent. this whole time. connor remembers the negative moreso than the positive on his own end--the resentment for cyberlife sending in a model with his face, maybe as punishment for the stunt he'd pulled liberating their entire warehouse. then there was the irritation, the need to prove that he was still useful. he didn't want to be replaced.
900 had been difficult to read until this moment. there's something about the way he's so seamlessly stepped in to protect him now, hiding him from view and covering connor's body with his own. he can't help but feel a rush of surprise and warmth blooming at the thought that this is actual affection coming from the other android. maybe all this time he just hadn't known how to navigate his own deviancy, or like his predecessor had trouble articulating his emotions.
his eyes flutter open, skin shifting back as the transfer completes and he pulls his hand away from behind. for a moment he just looks dazed, led eventually settling back into a calm blue as he places his fingers gingerly against 900's cheek.]
My memory bank is still intact. I'm beginning to remember. My download is estimated at 86% and counting. I should have footage from my lost time within the next twenty minutes. So...we'll need to proceed with this interaction.
[that's the only warning he'll get before connor pushes himself up slightly, angling 900 back to look at him before surging into a hungry kiss before easing into something softer, sweeter.]
[There's a hint of evident relief on his face, before Connor interrupts his reaction with the kiss. His mouth is pliant to Connor's, kissing back with lips slightly parted. His own thirium pump regulator pulses at an increased rate, running hard from the stress of losing Connor and the relief of him managing to recall himself, and having him so close, synthetic skin warm and so "alive".]
Understood. ...I am glad you could be recovered...
[RK900 doesn't have to be so careful to cover Connor anymore, but he stays straddled over his lap. He breaks off the kiss to raise himself up higher on his knees, breathing in lustful heavy breaths and cheeks flushed. He has no need to breathe or red blood, so the reaction is entirely designed for the benefit of the client, tinting his skin like a chameleon.]
[He pushes his stretchy stripper shorts halfway down his thighs now, letting the client see as much as he wants. He has a sculpted rear and one of Cyberlife's top of the line sex organs, perfectly shaped and fully erect. Then his hands rest on Connor's thighs.]
What do you think? Have you ever wanted to get fucked by yourself?
[It's a saucy tone of voice that he's never used in the DPD, paired with a half-lidded gaze and parted lips. Just what the client wants to hear, hopefully.]
[connor is still a little disoriented from his recent regain of his own memories--quite literally feeling like he's woken from stasis in the middle of this raunchy scenario that belongs in one of his research videos rather than actually happening right now. he'll get overwhelmed and bombarded with software instabilities and glitches that his download wasn't able to correct--and it'll be unpleasant.
it's easier to focus his attention on 900 this way. he's familiar, albeit a formerly unpleasant...what was the phrase humans used? "thorn in his side." somehow the fact that 900 was consistently trying to insinuate himself and be kind to connor just made it worse. even hank had remarked that it seemed like 900 just wanted to know him in a friendly sense, not least of all because of the obvious connection they shared. and yet, connor had been something of a stubborn brat about it. he wasn't as impolite as say, gavin, but he didn't make himself as pleasant and pliant as he was with someone like hank.
but here he is saving connor without an ounce of mocking or resentment for the way he's been held at a distance. he still views him with fondness, and for the first time it makes connor feel guilt.
there's no reason he can't start by opening himself up to the possibility of it now. and really, 900 is pulling out stops like he's never seen before, from the flush on his cheeks to the throaty and husky voice as he looks at connor like he wants to swallow him whole. the flush that rises to his own cheeks isn't manufactured--neither is the shiver when he lets his thighs fall apart and and feels his thirium pump increase another increment.]
I don't have any data on such an interaction.
[he pauses, aware this doesn't qualify as dirty talk. his lips fall open, gaze lolling to the side to meet with their client and scan him discreetly to see if it matches anything he's downloaded. all that before he locks them onto 900 again with something challenging.]
But...I'd like to.
You look...impressive.
[no mocking or shame in saying so. if anything, connor has a flicker of shyness. but he fixes it by reaching down with a hand along his neck and chest, slipping between his legs to tease along his cheeks. to his own surprise, he's already wet with anticipation.]
[RK900 shifts his long legs up to pull off his stripper shorts, his one item of clothing, in slow sliding motions, until he snaps them off in the direction of the client without looking, knowing they will land on top of the man's head. There's his souvenir.]
[He leans back into Connor and brushes his lips over his throat. Then he hesitates, giving Connor a look when he mentions data. His expression softens... if Connor's feeling guilty, so is he. But not for the same reason. He speaks softly in direct transmission.]
I'm sorry, I know you don't like me, but we have to maintain our cover. If this is too much, please disable your touch sensors until we are finished playing this out.
[Then he speaks in audio, voice snapping back into the lustful tone.]
You're about to get the experience, Beautiful.
[Now he's looking sultry again, gray eyes dark with desire. He reaches between Connor's legs as well, taking his wrist and pulling it back up, until he can drag his tongue along Connor's fingers. He makes note of Connor's excessive lubrication but dismisses the rest of the molecular analysis, as he drives his tongue between Connor's fingers and presses it along the lines of his palm. Finally he puts his mouth over one finger and sucks on it, while looking Connor in the eyes.]
[connor merely smirks, a small and fleeting thing as he sees the man fumble with them quickly so he doesn't miss a moment of this. he almost wishes he could see it from his view--what do they look like, together? long limbs, pale skin, perfect and blemish free tangled up with one another. he can certainly understand the idea of appeal to it, even if that is considered vain to admit.
but when 900 continues the internal dialogue, connor blinks, taken out of the entire moment in an instant.
900 is apologizing to him for connor's own hostility. as if he's done something wrong other than simply exist and create the emotions humans are so susceptible to when threatened: jealousy, envy, hostility. and none of it is his fault. he's only ever regarded connor with an aloof but polite facade, and now...he knows all along he'd been harbouring the soft edges of deviancy because of his fondness.
it makes him want to push up and kiss 900 free of his artificial breath, to slide his fingers against that perfect hair and muss it up. how could he have ever been so cruel to someone that is practically intrinsic to his own being?
his eyes meet 900's dead on, something hardened in what's normally a gentle brown. but it's not malice--it's challenge. conviction.]
That isn't true. I'd like to discuss this elsewhere, without the added inconvenience in the room. But maintaining our cover is the priority.
And 900?
[he waits until he feels the slickness of his soft tongue tracing along the pads of his fingers, no doubt getting a read on how aroused his body is. the client wouldn't know that; it's not for his benefit even though connor can hear the clink of a buckle behind them.]
I've turned my sensors up to 100%, if that answers any doubts.
[RK900 is astonished. He flushes deeper, not all acting now, as his thirium pump pulses and increases the heat output from his generators.]
Oh...
[He pauses. His own arousal and the arousal he detects from Connor is interrupting his processing. Connor is okay with this. Connor is more than okay with this.]
...I think I understand.
[He wetly releases Connor's finger, then his hand cups the side of his face as he kisses him firmly, lingering with affection.]
This is a time-limited session. If he's pleased, he may rent us off the premise and we can investigate his home. We'll have to proceed faster.
[Until now he's been trying to draw the focus on himself to shield Connor. Now he focuses on Connor, laying back but pulling Connor with him without breaking the kiss, so Connor is on top for the moment. He hooks a leg around his leg and lays a hand on his ass, positioned where the client can get a good look. Then he picks up where Connor left off on fingering himself, stroking his finger along the cleft of his ass.]
...I can't make this mean nothing to me, Connor. I have also turned up my sensors.
Let's make sure of it. I detect a 7% increase in his breathing speed already.
[connor slips his tongue into 900's mouth with a filthy roll of it, groaning against his plush lips like the whore he's (not quite) paid to be, but none of it is an act. he wishes there wasn't someone watching them, but it's easy enough to block out. all of their chemistry in this moment is authentic, and connor lets 900 shift him into an easier position for the next element of their display. thank god the suspect hasn't asked to participate yet, though he can hear the obscene sounds of someone working skin along skin.
he'd much rather drown it out with him and 900's own noises. as soon as he feels that possessive hand splaying across his cheek, connor tongues him again and times it with a roll of his hips, pressing his leaking cock against 900's impressive specimen.]
I admit...I'd like to see what CyberLife's finest is capable of. Can't you feel how much I want it?
[the tone is teasing, cheeky, and he pulls away briefly to smirk and slide a hand between them. experimentally he wraps his fingers around the head of that pretty cock, loosely stroking and letting his thumb press against the underside. his eyes are half-lidded, gaze fixed on the other android's to see how he'll react--how he'll look.]
Maybe we should do this more often. Your face looks...softer, with my hands on you.
[RK900's direct connection lapses into faint static, still open to Connor but silent. He gazes up at Connor, wide-eyed, yellow-LED, and clearly dazed, just blown away by Connor's sexuality. His fondness for Connor comes up strong again; this very precious prototype who might have been thrown away like outdated merchandise if CyberLife hadn't fallen, who has become provably individual, and possesses perhaps more freedom of will than anyone.]
[For the moment there is no human, no tacky lights or dimly pulsing mood music, he only processes Connor's tongue deep in his mouth, then his hand on his highly touch-sensitive cock. His regulator pulses hard and his chest heaves as if taking deep breaths, and he jumps his hips up to press eagerly into his grip. And he certainly feels Connor's physical arousal as well.]
Shit...
[He leans up and kisses Connor again. His artificial saliva over-produces, slicking the stroke of his tongue. At the same time, he rubs his finger more firmly, circling the rim of his asshole and teasing with small prods.]
Connor... I...
[He breaks the kiss, with a thread of saliva hanging between their lips, and gives Connor a dark, lustful look. His processors run so hot with the demands of arousal and powerful deviant emotions that warmth radiates from him.]
...I want to turn off this skin and interface with every inch of you.
[He rolls his hips up again while beginning to penetrate him with his his finger.]
I want to handle your most sensitive wire components, and share jolts of electrical charges.
[All things they can't do for the sake of a human-like performance, but RK900's desire is apparent.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[connor can barely focus on what the client wants right now.
i'm not a deviant, is what he should say. that he doesn't need help getting back to being something he isn't--someone who has a partner, who knows this other android that clearly isn't just an employee at eden club.
connor realizes that it's not just a typical malfunction befalling him right now. he's...he feels frightened. unsure. what if this is a trick of some kind? what if eden club is looking for a reason to disassemble him? he forces himself to look at his duplicate's eyes--to try and see if they trigger another response from him. he feels an approximation of mild disappointment when they don't, realizing that he's stopped properly kissing him. if the client comes closer he might be disappointed, but he hasn't made any other moves yet.
his stress level spikes again when his hand is twisted behind his back, and he takes a split second decision to just...let it happen.]
Okay. I hope...please be telling the truth. I don't want to be taken away.
[his skin peels back, interfacing with rk900's as his led cycles yellow.
CRITIC@L SY$T3M M@LFUNCT|ON
SOFTWARE INSTABILITY: 68%
DIRECT INTERFACE WITH MODEL RK900 #313 248 317 - 87: DOWNLOAD DATA NOW?
connor accepts, and lets out a small startled noise when it begins to sync.]
no subject
[Error messages flood his peripheral. Not his readouts, they're Connor's. The connection succeeded. He sorts through the stress level indicator and the instability tracker. Just as he suspected, there's signs that his memory was erased to repurpose him by an outside party. However, androids don't truly forget anything; data can be recovered with computer forensics or "reminders" similar to the way humans recall lost thoughts.]
You won't be disposed of. We can't lose you, Connor. Try to remember.
[He's paused too long. He kisses at Connor's throat, moaning unnecessarily. At the same time, he multitasks through his direct connection. He sends Connor copies of some of his own memories in a rush of uploads, ones focused on Connor. A completely regular scene of Connor in the DPD, sitting at his desk across from Hank and operating his computer terminal. Connor speaking to Fowler, Connor sitting on Hank's desk, Connor navigating around Gavin's propped-up feet. RK900 had been surreptitiously watching him at times during work. Then there's crime scenes, where they work together to canvas larger areas. RK900 usually uncovers more.]
[Then a deviant feeling, which are difficult to fully control, is visible through the connection. It's a warm emotion tied to these memories of Connor. A deep, genuine fondness.]
[What he feels now is protectiveness, guarding Connor's visible turmoil from sight with his own body and keeping up the performance to avoid suspicion. His free hand slides down Connor's abdomen, over his hip, and across his thigh. He presses at his inner-thigh, spreading his legs wider to lean closer over him. It still might not be enough to fully involve the client's attention, so he reaches back and tugs his own little stripper shorts an inch down his hips, giving a small preview of his glittering rear. Then he picks up Connor's free hand and guides it to his bared hip.]
no subject
[there's an audible in hitch in the customer's breath, right around the same time that connor lets out a surprised noise of his own. his hands flex around 900's hip from where it's been placed--or that's what it looks like--but really he's spasming weakly and trying to absorb the onslaught of memories that should be reflective of his own being downloaded into his database.
MANUAL MEMORY BANK OVERRIDE IN PROGRESS...
his eyelids are flickering, led spinning yellow and dipping red in quick successions as whatever attempt to stifle out his real memories falls away, no match for real mechanics and programming from cyberlife's most updated and technologically advanced model. it's strange to actually feel it this time--not just to absorb it as a memory transfer or a simple probe. he feels every glimpse into 900's coloured version of the events that match connor's own. it makes his chest tighten, thirium pump racing with the knowledge that...900 regards him in a way that wasn't always readily apparent. this whole time. connor remembers the negative moreso than the positive on his own end--the resentment for cyberlife sending in a model with his face, maybe as punishment for the stunt he'd pulled liberating their entire warehouse. then there was the irritation, the need to prove that he was still useful. he didn't want to be replaced.
900 had been difficult to read until this moment. there's something about the way he's so seamlessly stepped in to protect him now, hiding him from view and covering connor's body with his own. he can't help but feel a rush of surprise and warmth blooming at the thought that this is actual affection coming from the other android. maybe all this time he just hadn't known how to navigate his own deviancy, or like his predecessor had trouble articulating his emotions.
his eyes flutter open, skin shifting back as the transfer completes and he pulls his hand away from behind. for a moment he just looks dazed, led eventually settling back into a calm blue as he places his fingers gingerly against 900's cheek.]
My memory bank is still intact. I'm beginning to remember. My download is estimated at 86% and counting. I should have footage from my lost time within the next twenty minutes. So...we'll need to proceed with this interaction.
[that's the only warning he'll get before connor pushes himself up slightly, angling 900 back to look at him before surging into a hungry kiss before easing into something softer, sweeter.]
Thank you.
no subject
Understood. ...I am glad you could be recovered...
[RK900 doesn't have to be so careful to cover Connor anymore, but he stays straddled over his lap. He breaks off the kiss to raise himself up higher on his knees, breathing in lustful heavy breaths and cheeks flushed. He has no need to breathe or red blood, so the reaction is entirely designed for the benefit of the client, tinting his skin like a chameleon.]
[He pushes his stretchy stripper shorts halfway down his thighs now, letting the client see as much as he wants. He has a sculpted rear and one of Cyberlife's top of the line sex organs, perfectly shaped and fully erect. Then his hands rest on Connor's thighs.]
What do you think? Have you ever wanted to get fucked by yourself?
[It's a saucy tone of voice that he's never used in the DPD, paired with a half-lidded gaze and parted lips. Just what the client wants to hear, hopefully.]
no subject
it's easier to focus his attention on 900 this way. he's familiar, albeit a formerly unpleasant...what was the phrase humans used? "thorn in his side." somehow the fact that 900 was consistently trying to insinuate himself and be kind to connor just made it worse. even hank had remarked that it seemed like 900 just wanted to know him in a friendly sense, not least of all because of the obvious connection they shared. and yet, connor had been something of a stubborn brat about it. he wasn't as impolite as say, gavin, but he didn't make himself as pleasant and pliant as he was with someone like hank.
but here he is saving connor without an ounce of mocking or resentment for the way he's been held at a distance. he still views him with fondness, and for the first time it makes connor feel guilt.
there's no reason he can't start by opening himself up to the possibility of it now. and really, 900 is pulling out stops like he's never seen before, from the flush on his cheeks to the throaty and husky voice as he looks at connor like he wants to swallow him whole. the flush that rises to his own cheeks isn't manufactured--neither is the shiver when he lets his thighs fall apart and and feels his thirium pump increase another increment.]
I don't have any data on such an interaction.
[he pauses, aware this doesn't qualify as dirty talk. his lips fall open, gaze lolling to the side to meet with their client and scan him discreetly to see if it matches anything he's downloaded. all that before he locks them onto 900 again with something challenging.]
But...I'd like to.
You look...impressive.
[no mocking or shame in saying so. if anything, connor has a flicker of shyness. but he fixes it by reaching down with a hand along his neck and chest, slipping between his legs to tease along his cheeks. to his own surprise, he's already wet with anticipation.]
no subject
[He leans back into Connor and brushes his lips over his throat. Then he hesitates, giving Connor a look when he mentions data. His expression softens... if Connor's feeling guilty, so is he. But not for the same reason. He speaks softly in direct transmission.]
I'm sorry, I know you don't like me, but we have to maintain our cover. If this is too much, please disable your touch sensors until we are finished playing this out.
[Then he speaks in audio, voice snapping back into the lustful tone.]
You're about to get the experience, Beautiful.
[Now he's looking sultry again, gray eyes dark with desire. He reaches between Connor's legs as well, taking his wrist and pulling it back up, until he can drag his tongue along Connor's fingers. He makes note of Connor's excessive lubrication but dismisses the rest of the molecular analysis, as he drives his tongue between Connor's fingers and presses it along the lines of his palm. Finally he puts his mouth over one finger and sucks on it, while looking Connor in the eyes.]
no subject
but when 900 continues the internal dialogue, connor blinks, taken out of the entire moment in an instant.
900 is apologizing to him for connor's own hostility. as if he's done something wrong other than simply exist and create the emotions humans are so susceptible to when threatened: jealousy, envy, hostility. and none of it is his fault. he's only ever regarded connor with an aloof but polite facade, and now...he knows all along he'd been harbouring the soft edges of deviancy because of his fondness.
it makes him want to push up and kiss 900 free of his artificial breath, to slide his fingers against that perfect hair and muss it up. how could he have ever been so cruel to someone that is practically intrinsic to his own being?
his eyes meet 900's dead on, something hardened in what's normally a gentle brown. but it's not malice--it's challenge. conviction.]
That isn't true. I'd like to discuss this elsewhere, without the added inconvenience in the room. But maintaining our cover is the priority.
And 900?
[he waits until he feels the slickness of his soft tongue tracing along the pads of his fingers, no doubt getting a read on how aroused his body is. the client wouldn't know that; it's not for his benefit even though connor can hear the clink of a buckle behind them.]
I've turned my sensors up to 100%, if that answers any doubts.
no subject
Oh...
[He pauses. His own arousal and the arousal he detects from Connor is interrupting his processing. Connor is okay with this. Connor is more than okay with this.]
...I think I understand.
[He wetly releases Connor's finger, then his hand cups the side of his face as he kisses him firmly, lingering with affection.]
This is a time-limited session. If he's pleased, he may rent us off the premise and we can investigate his home. We'll have to proceed faster.
[Until now he's been trying to draw the focus on himself to shield Connor. Now he focuses on Connor, laying back but pulling Connor with him without breaking the kiss, so Connor is on top for the moment. He hooks a leg around his leg and lays a hand on his ass, positioned where the client can get a good look. Then he picks up where Connor left off on fingering himself, stroking his finger along the cleft of his ass.]
...I can't make this mean nothing to me, Connor. I have also turned up my sensors.
no subject
[connor slips his tongue into 900's mouth with a filthy roll of it, groaning against his plush lips like the whore he's (not quite) paid to be, but none of it is an act. he wishes there wasn't someone watching them, but it's easy enough to block out. all of their chemistry in this moment is authentic, and connor lets 900 shift him into an easier position for the next element of their display. thank god the suspect hasn't asked to participate yet, though he can hear the obscene sounds of someone working skin along skin.
he'd much rather drown it out with him and 900's own noises. as soon as he feels that possessive hand splaying across his cheek, connor tongues him again and times it with a roll of his hips, pressing his leaking cock against 900's impressive specimen.]
I admit...I'd like to see what CyberLife's finest is capable of. Can't you feel how much I want it?
[the tone is teasing, cheeky, and he pulls away briefly to smirk and slide a hand between them. experimentally he wraps his fingers around the head of that pretty cock, loosely stroking and letting his thumb press against the underside. his eyes are half-lidded, gaze fixed on the other android's to see how he'll react--how he'll look.]
Maybe we should do this more often. Your face looks...softer, with my hands on you.
no subject
[For the moment there is no human, no tacky lights or dimly pulsing mood music, he only processes Connor's tongue deep in his mouth, then his hand on his highly touch-sensitive cock. His regulator pulses hard and his chest heaves as if taking deep breaths, and he jumps his hips up to press eagerly into his grip. And he certainly feels Connor's physical arousal as well.]
Shit...
[He leans up and kisses Connor again. His artificial saliva over-produces, slicking the stroke of his tongue. At the same time, he rubs his finger more firmly, circling the rim of his asshole and teasing with small prods.]
Connor... I...
[He breaks the kiss, with a thread of saliva hanging between their lips, and gives Connor a dark, lustful look. His processors run so hot with the demands of arousal and powerful deviant emotions that warmth radiates from him.]
...I want to turn off this skin and interface with every inch of you.
[He rolls his hips up again while beginning to penetrate him with his his finger.]
I want to handle your most sensitive wire components, and share jolts of electrical charges.
[All things they can't do for the sake of a human-like performance, but RK900's desire is apparent.]