Her gentle metallic caress activated all of the sexual receptors on his philangula. Theirs was a race at war…but then, love is a battlefield. She gently, almost shyly opened the hatch on her lower chassis. Before, only the Technosavage’s repair droids had accessed her Carnal Cortex, but all that was about to change. He slowly probed her with his dozen pentapods, causing her optical servos to flutter in the fibinacci sequence. Four of the pods snapped off and withered and died inside her. His vestigial translucent wings closed around them both, hiding them from the judging eyes they both felt. As he neared the first of his series of seven increasingly painful orgasms, she began to spurt oil all over his “necklace” of symbiotic nerve-leeches. She screeched in protest until he lovingly spat a viscous spinal fluid at them, a defense mechanism of his species. She cradled him as he fell, and, as they both finally reached climax, he shed his skin and burst forth on a dozen whirling tentacles. She ran out of fuel.