Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Ancient History: The Forgotten Past of the Saiyans ❯ Sugar High Part 1 ( Chapter 9 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Ancient History: The Forgotten Past of the Saiyans

Chapter 9: Sugar High Part 1

    I absentmindedly walk into the kitchen looking for something sweet to eat as a midnight snack.  It has been one week since the fiasco at the barbecue.  Looking up, I see Vegeta gorging himself on the cake that Chichi had made. Yes she did have the best recipe on earth. On closer inspection I see some ice cream on the table as well.  Silently I cut myself a large slice and heap some ice cream on it.  I then sit down across from him, smiling.  And people said I had bad table manners!  He looks up at me in surprise, chocolate all over his face, as if I had invaded his private hoarding party.

One week earlier     After Goten and I spent about an hour rutting (after the initial disturbance), we headed to the kitchen and pigged out on some lemon squares that my human Grandmother had made from some fresh lemons.  Since we are half human our Saiyan rut cycles seem to be shorter, but more intense, than the full blooded ones like my father and Goku.  As I ponder these things, I help myself to a plateful, and load some strawberry ice cream on my lemon squares.  Mom is sitting on the couch frowning.  Sated for the moment we sit ourselves in the recliners flanking the sofa.  "Mom, what happened?" I asked.  "Chichi betrayed Goku and they got into a fight and he told her brake if off with the other man and she left.  Goku was very angry and he told her not to come back for a week, so he could calm down and give her a chance to come back to him."
    "Goten, your father is a very forgiving man.  That is probably the first time he has ever tasted betrayal.  He will need our support.  And if she doesn't call next week, it is over between them."  Bulma cried, feeling bad for her best friend.  "But I thought it was over, considering they both died."  I said.  "True, but Goku still wanted to live with her."  Mom replied.  "So, Mom, Goku is beginning his heat cycle?" I asked?  "Yes."  Vegeta said as he entered the room.  "That is another reason why he is unusually emotional today.  His scent just started to change thirty minutes ago.  Add that to what that harpy did, and he is in for quite a ride."

Present     Kakarott has caught me in one of my sugar cravings.  He decides to join me and sits down with his huge slice of cake and his pile of ice cream.  He smiles at me like there is something he finds funny about what I am doing.  Looking into my reflection in his eyes, it is then that I realize that I have chocolate all over my face.
    I start to lick my fingers and lick the chocolate off my face, when Kakarott starts sniffing the air.  "Vegeta something smells really good."  "It's the food."  Fortunately his heat cycle will be over in about three days.  He begins to sniff the air again, this time leaning toward me.  "Vegeta, it's not the food, you smell different,  and I really like it."  He says with is goofy grin.
    "Oh shit." I mumble to myself.  "That can only mean one thing: I am beginning my heat cycle.  Just great."  "Vegeta.  What is a heat cycle?" "Just finish your food and I will tell you in the morning."  I said.  'I better get out of here.'  I thought.  "Does it mean you feel all funny inside, like I have been all week?" Kakarott asked.  "Yes!" I snapped. "Ok.  But I like it."  "Of course you do moron, it is supposed to help you be receptive to prospective mates."  My voice fades as I end that quip, wishing I had kept my mouth shut.

      Just then the phone rings.  I answer the phone.  "Hello?"  "Hi Goku, it's me Chichi.  I'm not coming back.  I am flying on flight 242 to Paris.  Bye."  Click.  I just stand there with the receiver in my hand, like a statue.  Vegeta obviously heard what was said; who couldn't, with that screechy voice.  I feel someone step behind me and set their hand on my shoulder while they remove the handset from my hand and place it back in the cradle of the phone.

      The phone keeps beeping that irritating noise, while Kakarott stands there staring at nothing.  I hang it up and turn him around and look into his eyes.  The childlike, hopeful sparkle is gone.  His countenance is void, emotionless.  Once he inhales my scent he seems to snap out of it.  He has an almost feral expression on his face now.  One I have never seen before.  I lead him back to the table and sit him down at it.  He aggressively devours his sugary treat, like I am going to take it away.  I sit down and finish my own plate.  He glances over at me and pours the rest of the huge container of ice cream on the other whole cake proceeding to smooth it, growling as he does so.  My mouth is agape at his bizarre behavior.
    The next thing I now he rips off a piece and shoves it in my open mouth and says "Eat."  And his growl changes to a purr, after issuing that command.  He rips off a piece for himself and eats it with less haste than before, watching me the whole time.  It is 12:30 a.m. Saturday.  Goten and Trunks walk into the kitchen, and Kakarott fires a weak energy blast in warning next to the intruders, growling: "Mine!"  He then throws the other cake, the one that he didn't spread ice cream on, and throws it at them, saying:  "Eat this."  He then proceeds to shove another piece in my mouth, since I have finished the first. "Eat."  He commands again, while purring.

POV: Goten     I was surprised to see my dad's behavior.  Fortunately I was able to catch the cake he threw at me and Trunks.  We rush back to our room not wanting to agitate my dad further.  "I think your dad has snapped." Trunks said.  "I agree.  And the phone rang just before it happened." I say, putting a piece of cake in my mouth as I sit on the floor, back against the door.  Trunks followed suit and began to eat.
    After we lick our fingers clean, we strip, and Trunks leads me over to the bed.  "I'm still hungry." I say.  He then grabs what is left of the cake, mostly fudge, and smears it all over his chest and belly.  "Well, then eat."  He says with a lecherous grin.  "You know very well that is not what I meant." I said, frowning.
    He looks at me in disbelief, and just when he was about to wipe it off, I lunge forward and pounce.  Smiling at his half surprise, I begin to lick the cake from his face, eliciting a small giggle.  Pinning him on the bed, I nibble on his right ear and work my way down his jawbone.  I then brush my lips teasingly across his, looking into his eyes, and then work on his left ear.  His face now clear of all chocolate, I begin to lick and graze my teeth gently across the folds in his chest.
    I look up at him with a grin then proceed to lick and nip his now pert nipples clean of the delectable coating.  His sweat mixes with the fudge, creating a unique aphrodisiac, only I have the privilege to taste.  The erotic nature of my actions combined with his moaning and writhing under me is almost more than I can handle.  Speaking of handle, while doing the aforementioned things, I rub my fingers through soft fragrant hair.  His hair smells like strawberries.  He must be using his favorite shampoo.  The smell of his musk and cocoa and strawberries, is olfactory nirvana.
    Staring into blue eyes, I slide my tongue across Trunks' bottom lip, asking entrance to that cave of flavors.  Our lips meet in a passionate kiss, our tongues delving into each other's molten caverns, each taste and duel like a symphony of music we can only 'hear' with our taste buds.  Rocking against my mate, I feel the completeness from our joining a week before.  I position myself at his entrance, the moist slickness and tight heat awaiting me.
    I thrust forward sheathed to the hilt, stopping to catch my breath.  "Ahhh." I moan out loud, Trunks doing the same.  I begin to thrust lazily to catch my bearings, and to stare into those bottomless pools of blue that drown me every time I look into them, making nothing else matter but the one I love.
    Trunks arches his back toward the ceiling, grinding us together, drawing out moans and pleas for more. Quickening my pace, or rather lack thereof, I hit that special spot, drawing cries of my name, in only ways I can.  I feel his warm release between us as Trunks climbed  the peak of ecstasy.  I thrust faster hitting the point of no return, releasing my load as his orgasmic spasms clench his heat all around me, amplifying my already mind blowing euphoria.  "Trunks I love you."

To be continued...