Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Closer ❯ Stiff and Stimulating Conversations ( Chapter 7 )

I don't own it and you should know that by now

 

He had to get away. He could barely keep his raging hormones under control. Vegeta was out of his element. A moment of close contact with the new scientist should not have done this to him, however, when he leaned in to lay down the law, her scent captured his attention. There was nothing artificial accompanying the pleasant odor, unlike Grace who doused herself as if she were auditioning for the King's harem. Bulma's fragrance was light and smooth, beckoning him to stay and enjoy.

It was paramount, that he swiftly reign in these unusual feelings before anyone recognized he was out of sorts. He needed to be able to submerge himself in someone else. Coupling with Grace made him cringe and the palace whores were out of the question as the thought of their frequently used flesh disgusted him. He was left with only one option. Vegeta moved quickly through the palace halls to return to his rooms to attain the relief he so desperately craved.

Safe within the confines of his room, he immediately threw off his armor and suit. `Release, must have release NOW!' The thought was running through his mind like a rocketing starship.

Closing the door to the cleansing chamber, he extinguished the light source immersing himself in total darkness. The lack of light helped to cover his shame and revulsion for the act he was about to commit. What type of warrior is waylaid by his own dick? It was deplorable that a Prince would have to please himself due to some ridiculous female; however, he could not ignore his erection. His desire had to be satisfied.

He remembered the way her hips swayed as she descended the ships walkway. Her breasts slightly bouncing, begging to be ravaged by his hungry mouth.

He imagined that after they entered her new accommodations, she'd slam the door, grab him, and while shoving him against the door, would instantly fall to her knees, rubbing her cheek against his painfully restricted arousal. Wasting no time, she skillfully pulled the front of his suit down with her teeth, while both of her hands pulled down the sides, scraping his thighs with her nails in her haste.

In reality, heavily breathing in the blackness of the room, Vegeta began to stroke his engorged cock. He dreamed her mouth was like silk, stroking him up and down, taking him all in. When she groaned, it added a vibration that made the pleasure even more immense. Increasing her speed, she used her hand in combination with her heated mouth to enhance the experience. Vegeta pumped his hand hard as he visualized his hands on her head, encouraging her to take him deep inside and lead him to heaven. His sacs began to tighten, creeping nearer to giving up the essence held inside. Gods he was so close! He could smell her want and desire just for him along with feeling her luscious lips tightly encircling his organ. He no longer held back his seed. `Fuck!' his mind shouted. Vegeta exploded down Bulma's throat, growling as this wanton female inhaled the scorching eruption of his genetic material.

Coming back to reality, Vegeta found his hands and abdomen sticky from his abhorrent activity. `Completely undignified' he scoffed as he stepped into the shower, unsure how to sort out how this Onna affected him so.

 

Bulma dressed for dinner in a very nice Chanel suit, it was black, and conservatively cut. The skirt came to just under the knee and the jacket was just right, not too tight. Underneath she wore a silver chemise and sheer pantyhose. Her face freshly scrubbed and lotion applied but no makeup other than lip balm had been utilized. She placed her hair in a tight bun atop her head and then pulled back to view her basic outfit.

She was pleased with her appearance, convinced that it should allow her not to be to bothered by males she encountered. If all went well, she would receive her assignment, provide the needed deliverables, and continue with her own project. She tried not to think of how the men she passed eyed her hungrily. `Not even interested' she thought.

A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts. “One moment please,” she said.

Checking herself one more time, she placed her petite feet in 1-inch pumps and crossed to the door.

“Who is it?” she asked politely

“Bardock requests entrance, my lady” was the charming reply.

Bulma opened the door and was swept up into Bardock's arms. He had been so worried and had to bodily reassure himself of her safety.

“Bardock, you are crushing me,” she wheezed.

Hastily setting Bulma on her feet, Bardock's face flushed at his emotional outburst.

“Apologies, Bulma,” he said, “your father and I have been extremely concerned about your wellbeing.”

Bulma looked down at her Jimmy Choo shoes.

“I'm sorry and I will make sure to speak to my father as soon as possible.”

“Bulma,” he said with fatherly compassion, “what made you do it?”

“Oh you know me, I am always up for an adventure” she lied.

Bardock looked more closely at the being that he considered a member of his family.

“The circles under your eyes and the paleness of your skin tell me rather more,” Bardock stated. There was no question in his words. Something was wrong with her and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

“Oh would you look at that,” she said trying to deflect the topic, “I have dinner with the King and Prince in 10 minutes, care to escort me?”

Taking his arm, she nearly shoved him out the door and began to walk down the passage. Bardock placed her arm in his, swung her around and smiled. “You are going the wrong way,” he said, “and we will finish this, young lady” Bardock finished, nearly growling.

Biting her bottom lip, she allowed Bardock to steer her down the correct path so to the palace dining hall. Bardock looked at her again and nodded, then left as she entered the area.

Viewing the room for the first time was breathtaking. It was ornately decorated in black and gold. The table was made of the darkest ebony stone Bulma had ever seen. The chairs were also black, outlined in gold with a ruby-like jewel at the top.

“And just who are you?” said a voice she had never heard.

Turning, Bulma encountered a beautiful, overdressed, Sayian female. She was wearing a very tight, bone white corseted dress, which thrust her breasts up while emphasizing her stunning figure. Her dark hair was pulled into a chignon and her makeup was flawless.

“Hello, I'm Bulma Briefs of Chikyuu-sei” she said in a friendly manner while extending her hand.

Grace looked at Bulma's hand as if it were filthy and returned to her interrogation.

“I do not care where you are from, I want to know what you are doing in this room,” Grace said with authority.

Bulma was unaware of a queen or princess on the planet but she was not about to be pushed around by this woman, whoever she was. She was about to let her have it when the King and Prince arrived to see the women squaring off.

“Bulma,” the King greeted, “glad you could join us for the evening meal.”

Grace looked as if she could vomit. `He wanted this girl here? She was so plain and foreign, I mean just look at the odd hair coloring' she thought in a mean girl kind of way.

Grace turned up her nose and approached the Prince, taking his well-muscled arm.

“I see you have met Grace,” said the King. “she has been appointed as the Prince's betrothed.”

Bulma flicked her eyes at the Prince. He looked pained even standing next to his soon to be spouse.

The Prince peeled Grace's fingers from his arm and sat himself at the table near his father. Grace broke land and speed records to sit next to her Prince but was thwarted by the King who motioned for her to sit across from her intended while Bulma sat next to him.

`I am in HFIL,' thought Prince Vegeta. He would be next to Bulma's enticing aroma for the duration of the meal, placing him in a state of uncomfortable half- arousal.

Servants began to fill their glasses with wine and Grace chatted up the Prince trying to get his attention. He rolled his eyes and focused on controlling himself while next to Bulma.

The King cut across Grace's droning drabble and addressed his guest.

“Bulma, I have reason to believe that there will be a major battle in the coming months involving my planet and the Ice-jin,” he began.

At this news, Prince Vegeta's eyes grew a bit wider but the rest of his face became as hard as chiseled granite.

“I'm sorry, your majesty, but I do not know of these beings. Could you elaborate?” Bulma asked as if she were in a high-level business meeting.

Grace giggled at this question. “How could you not know about one of the most powerful forces in the galaxy?” she laughed. “Is your world that far off the beaten path, Barbie?”

Bulma snapped her head to Grace, staring her down “It's Bulma,” she stated “please continue, your highness.”

Vegeta viewed the reaction with a slight smirk. `The spark is there, just hiding beneath the surface,' he surmised.

Grace's face was so red that she thought she would explode. A hard look from Prince Vegeta convinced her to keep the rest of her comments to herself.

King Vegeta continued. “When I met your father, I was still rough around the edges when it came to diplomacy. He not only saved my life but also taught me the art of negotiation. Also he has been my emissary on many occasions in order to forge strategic alliances where before we would have just wiped out the inhabitants and taken the planet.” Bulma blanched at this last bit of intelligence but chose to keep her feelings inside.

“The Ice-jin have not come as far in their skills unfortunately. They rape, murder, torture and kill anyone who gets in their way. Current politics place Saiyans in direct competition with the Ice-jins for control of the West Galaxy. Led by Lord Frieza, they have been pillaging our allied planets and taking scientist in an effort to find a weakness to our race.”

“As if there were any” spat Prince Vegeta. Grace smiled at the Prince's comment and he frowned right back at her.

Bulma considered the information. They needed to be able to battle these monsters and survive. She couldn't let her father or Bardock down.

“Do you have anything in mind, King Vegeta?” Bulma asked.

“I propose that you aid us in building something that played to our natural abilities of strength and speed,” the King offered.

Bulma pondered the thought. “I may be able to do this. Do I have at least a weeks' time?” she asked.

“A week!” the King exclaimed. “Are you sure you do not need longer that period of time?”

“No,” she answered, “that should be enough time for me to get a prototype together,” Bulma said confidently but not overly so.

Prince Vegeta was in awe of her assertive behavior. She was sure of herself and her ability to accomplish the monumental task laid before her. Simply put, he was impressed, although he would not say as much.

“A toast,” beamed King Vegeta, “to the aid that you will be to our people.”

Grace rolled her eyes and refused to lift her glass, earning a frown from her king.