Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Strawberry Wine ❯ Strawberry Wine ( One-Shot )

Disclaimer: Nope not mine, as much as I wished I owned the Bishounen of DBZ especially Mirai Trunks **they should make a calendar of that** Um, Dragonball/Z/GT belongs to Akira Toriyama, Toei Animation, Funimation and others…Nope, not mine. The song is Deana Carter's Strawberry Wine. I'm not really a country fan, but the song is nice.

Special thanks to dbz obsessedfor beta-ing ^_^

Strawberry Wine

By: EmberMaxximus

~My first taste of love, bittersweet. Green on the vine like strawberry wine~

I was three months shy of my eighteenth birthday and I can remember that day as if it were yesterday, my naïve perception of what love truly was. I was young, bordering on the threshold of adulthood, too old to be a child, but not yet a woman. The taste of strawberry wine and the masculine scent of sandalwood mingled with the barest hints of vanilla and clove, any combination of the four drove me mad with want on more occasions than not, and sometimes still do. But the past is in the past, ne? Regardless of how sugar coated my youthful mind remembers that fateful New Year's Eve Gala at Capsule Corporation. It's in the past, though I never regretted it, although I should have. For me to allow animalistic lust to override my perception was beyond sinful. My only misgivings being that it never amounted to anything more than a loss of innocence. To this very day, the memory of that night haunts me more than I'd ever care to admit. I wish… I wish that he could have seen me as I saw him.

I touched the string of pearls that adorned my throat. "Every woman should have her own set," she had told me as she removed the necklace I'd never seen her without and draped the flawless ocean jewels around my neck, fastening the gold clasp. Mother. She was ceaselessly cryptic and impassive, though growing up I always felt loved.

"Every woman," I softly repeated under my breath, recalling her earlier words as the ensemble of musicians perfectly played for the large gathering of Capsule Corporation's corporate staff, family members, and several of Chikyuu's A list and Fortune 500 moguls. Once again, Bulma Briefs had outdone herself. I wondered how much this lil' shindig of hers cost, two or three million zenni? Everyone seemed to be really enjoying the night's festivities.

"Marron-chan," the childlike voice called, tugging the side of my emerald velvet gown. "Chikyuu to Marron-chan, do you copy? Over."

I looked down into bright indigo eyes framed by ringlet after ringlet of aqua Shirley Temple style curls. Such a precious little cherub; but I knew the truth after just a few short years of babysitting for the Briefs', I knew sweet little Bra was no angel. "What is it B-chan?"

"I just wanted you to know that Son Goten promised when I grow up he's going to marry me, so I better not see you make any googly eyes at him ever, ever again, got it." Her expression was stern and stoic, arms crossed over her chest. I inwardly giggled…how sweet Bra-chan is crushing on Goten. Parisu better watch her back.

"Loud and clear, sweetie. Loud and clear." Bless her little heart, that kid was something else. Googly eyes at Goten? Never, but that oniisan of hers was definitely eye candy worth making googly eyes at. She skipped away, content with my answer, off to harass her fiancé I suppose. Chibis.

My breath hitched in my throat as I saw him. So beautiful, his chiseled features and sparkling blue eyes, he looked more like a priceless Michelangelo statue than just an ordinary man. But then again, he was far from ordinary. Trunks Briefs. He pushed the wisps of lilac bangs away from his cobalt eyes, grabbing a flute of champagne from a passing attendant. He seemed troubled. What I wouldn't give to soothe his worries, to hold him near and press my lips to his brow to console him. Trunks. A different waiter passed and again he snatched not one, but two flutes from the tray. I wonder what could possibly be bothering him so? I wanted to go to him, but would my actions offend him. Nonsensical chatter from a little girl, he'd probably think. I walked towards him, I will offer him my ear and hear his complaints if he wished.

"Marron-chan," the warm voice nearly sang as I turned to see my father in his tiny black tuxedo, stopping me from reaching the object of my affection.

"Hello, Daddy." He looked so content, but that was his nature. He was always the first to shine light on any grim situation no matter how bleak the circumstances were, be it the apocalypse or horribly placed blemish.

"You look so grown up in your gown, beautiful just like your mother," he beamed linking his arm in mine.

I blushed; any comparison to Mother always had that effect on me no matter how many times I heard it. She was truly stunning, like the goddess Athena. Even the word goddess was an injustice. How did that saying go? Comparing her to me was like trying to compare Crème Brulee to Jell-O, there was no comparison. Mother was in a league entirely of her own and me; well I'm my father's daughter. "You know you embarrass me when you say that Daddy. But look at you, looking all kawaii. You look like a million zenni."

"You're beautiful, it's the truth, never say any different! Got it? I wonder if Goku still has his power pole?" he laughed as I waited for the punch line.

"Power pole? Why would you say that Daddy? Did you forget to take you ginkgo biloba today?"

"Ha, ha very funny, Marron pumpkin-pie-sugar-booger. I'm going to have to start beating them off you with that stick of his pretty soon." He winked, smiling like he always does.

"Oh Daddy, you're so silly. I'm just plain old Marron pumpkin pie, like always. You're going to give me a big head if you keep telling me all those pretty lies." Daddy only shrugged, pulling me onto the dance floor and twirled me around the ballroom as we continued to waltz to the band Bulma-san had hired for the annual Capsule Corporation New Year's Eve Gala. Out the corner of my eye, I could see little Bra-chan had managed to con Goten onto the dance floor as Vegeta, the wallflower, glared murderously not too far away. And then, I saw him, drinking another flute of whatever expensive champagne Capsule Corp. had purchased for tonight's festivities. My eyes never left his side as I focused my gaze strait ahead, fixated on his lean muscular figure. I could tell the champagne was not having its desired effect. All of a sudden he stormed out, grabbing a bottle of some alcoholic beverage from behind the bartender's counter.

"Excuse me Daddy," I prematurely ended our dance, leaving Daddy a bit dumbfounded as I ran off to chase after Trunks.

I followed him down the maze of corridors and stairwells. The alcohol was finally beginning to take its toll, as his gait seemed to lose its normal fluidity. He went through another door and as I followed I noticed his name on the door. Leisurely, I opened the office door, poking my head inside. I don't believe a full two minutes had passed since I'd seen him only moments ago and when I had peeked inside the door he'd already removed his tuxedo jacket, bow, and shoes. Glassy eyed, he sat on the leather couch sipping the strawberry wine straight from the bottle as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do.

"Trunks-kun?" I spoke his name barely above a whisper. I don't think he heard me. I crossed the span of the room sitting besides him on the couch.

"Marron-chan," he whispered. The sound of my name on his lips made my belly flutter, but his eyes were so distant. I don't know what had him so distraught; I only wanted to be there for him. I placed my hand over his.

"I can listen if you want to talk about it," I offered, but he merely sat there indifferently, silently. A far cry from his usual cool collected self.

"You should leave," his voice was so placid, so detached. I could detect the smell of alcohol permeating the air around us.

"You shouldn't be here alone," I ran my thumb over the back of his hand, then put my arm around him pulling him against my chest in a comforting embrace and gently placed my lips to his brow in a chaste kiss.

"You should leave," he reiterated, but I neither wanted to nor had any intentions to do so.

I know my plan had been to lend him an ear if he needed to talk, but being this close to Trunks with his head nestled against the creamy tops of my bosom sent bolts of electricity racing down my spine settling in the pit of my tummy. I'd never really been close to him before, not like this. The familiar low down warm tingle I'd get at night if I thought about him too much danced away like a Vegas showgirl in my belly and I guiltily reddened for thinking such thoughts.

He pulled away, looking at me quizzically scenting the air briefly. "I never knew, Marron-chan. Is that why you came here?" His voiced poised on the verge between slurring and composed, his glassy eyes mimicked the inquisitiveness in his words.

Damn heightened Saiyan senses, he always has had a nose like a bloodhound. I avoided his gaze focusing on the strawberry wine held loosely by his right hand, his long fingers wrapped around the bottle's dark green neck. I blushed a guilty shade of crimson, the hue staining the apples of my cheeks like a flashing neon sign. I took the half empty bottle from him. Slowly raising the wine to my nude glossed lips and savored its bittersweet flavor. I returned the bottle to its owner. Dende, he was beautiful. I brought my palm to his cheek, caressing his perfect face. In my newfound boldness, I closed my eyes and shyly touched my lips to his in an innocent kiss and slowly pulled away, studying his reaction.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that," I apologized, "You came here to be alon-" Unexpectedly, he covered my mouth with his, intertwining his tongue with my own in a soft kiss.

"That is the way you should kiss someone you desire," he softly chuckled.

"I never said I wanted you, Trunks-kun," I stuttered out the lie, horribly defending my virtue.

"I'm halfway between two and three sheets to the wind. You should leave before you do something we'll both regret tomorrow. He raised the bottle to his soft lips drinking several swallows of the wine, finishing off the bottle's contents. His speech was becoming slower and thicker. And as much as the little voice in my head was screaming for me to be a good Marron-chan and to do as he requested, a part of me also wanted to throw all caution to the wind and wake up here with him and all our regrets.

"Trunks?" I looked over to see him slouched back in the leather sofa beside me, his head set back and eyes closed, I wondered if he was asleep.

"Can I try that kiss again?"

"Do your worst Marron-chan, do your worst." I slid closer towards him pulling the form fitting emerald gown up to my thighs so I could easily straddle his lap. I had never been so brazen in my entire seventeen years of life. Since my adolescence I've always been the shy girl, but not tonight, not tonight.

Sitting on his lap, I placed my hands on either side of his face and kissed him fervently with all the pent up adulation accumulated for him from watching him behind the mask of demure crystalline eyes and symmetrically placed golden pigtails.

"Much better", he half smiled, eyes still closed. His jacket and bow were already removed earlier and I meandered my lips across his square jaw line nuzzling my face in the crook of his neck. He smelled so good, faintly of cloves, vanilla, and sandalwood and a hint of the wine he'd drunk earlier. I ran my mouth over that deliciously scented skin unbuttoning his shirt, starting from the top and working my hands lower making sure to kiss each section of exposed muscular tanned skin as I descended over his chiseled chest and well defined abs, finding myself kneeling between his strong thighs and the hard bulge pushing at the front of his slacks. I looked up wondering if he was so inebriated he had passed out. It was far from the truth, his dilated lust filled indigo eyes shone through encouraging my shameless actions.

"You should leave now Marron," he warned, his voice low as he sat back in his seat, "I won't ask again."

"Trunks-kun," I whispered running my fingertips up the inside of his thighs and settling them first on his washboard abs and trailing down to the single black button to his trousers. Do it Marron or you'll regret it forever, the little voice echoed inside my mind as my eyes memorized the path of lilac hairs trailing lower and lower. In one quick life altering movement, the button was unfastened and my fingers were dancing around the waistband of the dark boxer briefs he wore, the last vestige keeping the large bulge incarcerated behind the prison of black cotton. I pulled the elastic band down freeing his thick arousal.

The corners of my mouth turned upwards as I witnessed my first real penis ever. It looked very different in comparison to the few I'd seen scattered in that old ecchi Kamesennin's various girlie magazines. For one thing, running my hand up his length, he was much fatter and longer than I would've expected, not that I'm a penis expert. He was so soft, like warm silk sheets fresh from the dryer. Lovingly, I stroked the sensitive member with both of my inexperienced hands looking up from my kneeling position on the plush burgundy carpet to see his expression. His lavender brows were furrowed closely together and his eyes remained shut. He was truly an attractive man. He cracked one eye and I realized I had removed my hands and placed them on his thighs tracing circles over his legs. "I've never actually touched one before, besides um…yours just now," Oh Dende that sounded ridiculous.

"Me neither," he half smiled.

"It's very pretty," I attempted to change the subject.

He softly chuckled, "Thank you, I s'pose. It's never been called pretty before."

I returned my gaze to his thick hardness as it throbbed as if begging for my attentions. Hesitantly, I encircled the base with my hand stroking him affectionately as I had done before. Delicately I kissed the rounded head and wrapped my lips around the sensitive tip. Inching my way downward until I could feel it's top tickling the back of my throat, then back up to repeat the action over and over again. `This is kind of fun', the thought flashed through my mind as he encouragingly entangled his fingers into my loose honey hued locks as I quickened my pace.

He grabbed my shoulders abruptly, yanking me upwards onto his lap as his mouth hungrily descended over mine in a crushing lip lock, his fingers found the zipper to my strapless gown tugging it down and over my head in one swift movement. My strapless bra soon followed suit leaving only my panties, thigh highs, and heels. His hot mouth came down on my breast enthusiastically suckling them tenaciously.

He felt so good, his scorching mouth left nothing untouched and I could feel his shaft pushed against my throbbing femininity through the thin barrier of my satin panties. I wanted to feel him moving inside me not this teasing closeness driving me insane with need of the unknown.

"I want my first time to be with you, Trunks," I panted, nibbling on his earlobe. His mouth and hands suddenly froze at my sobering request, his eyes ascending to meet mine through a panel of lavender bangs.

"What am I doing?" he thought aloud. "I shouldn't be doing this with you, here, like this now."

I rose from my place on his lap hooking my fingers into the sides if my panties, sliding them down to the floor and stepping out of them.

"Trunks-kun, are you just now developing a conscious," I asked, sliding back onto his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Let me be with you," I whispered, nipping his earlobe between my teeth. He forcefully grabbed the back of my neck, guiding my lips to his, claiming them in a ravenous kiss. His other hand found my entrance, sliding his fingers inside my wetness, touching me in ways I've never imagined before could feel so gratifying. My body was not my own as I moved with the rhythm of his skilled hands, moaning my pleasure softly, incoherently resting my forehead against his.

He withdrew his touch away from my eager chasm, lifting me to my knees and cusped my derriere positioning his sword at the entrance to my sheath. "I want this, oh Dende, I want this," I pleaded, running my tongue over the line of his lips.

"Take what you want," I see, I slid down his girth slowly, memorizing the sensation of the way felt. Sliding down until I felt the resistance of my barrier then pushing down until I felt the sharpness of its loss and the discernment of his blade buried within the heart of my femininity to the hilt. The sting of his presence slowly receded and was replaced with the instinctual need to experience the friction of his length touching me deeply time after time again. I began my pace slow; learning the feel of the saddle of this magnificent steed I rode, harmonizing my pleasure at the pace of his upward canter. His hands encircled my waist increasing the speed to a pulsating tempo as I soon discovered myself on my back with the inspiration of all my pubescent erotic fantasies drilling away into my womanhood as if his middle name was Black & Decker.

I was lost in the delicious haze of my sexual awakening, committing to memory every skilled stroke of perfection he attentively painted on my virginal canvas. I wrapped my slender legs around him as my incoherent groans elevated to nonsensical cries of contentment. Above me, I could see a thin sheen of perspiration glow on his athletic frame, beading up on his forehead. Somehow we had scooted across the entirety of his office as I found my head tapping against the foot of his desk. Without a moment's hesitation, I found we were on our feet as he pushed the contents of his desk aside in one quick sweep of his arm and bent me over the table. The cool tabletop felt heavenly under my flushed skin and in one fluid movement he impaled his sword into the my hot core, pumping into me, making every stroke more pleasurable than the last as my moans of encouragement urged him on. I felt his mouth trace a searing path up my spine, then being nonchalantly flipped on my back, he wrapped my legs around his neck as he positioned himself to join with me once more. I stopped him, placing my foot securely on his chest and sitting. He looked at me confused and I stood taking his fingers and leading him back to the sofa to where all had originated.

Dende, he was everything I'd ever fantasized about and more. But I wanted to wrap my arms around his neck as I drowned in the twin indigo lagoons of his eyes. I nudged him back to his seat on the couch, climbing atop his arousal and sliding down him over and over. His blue eyes darkened intense with lust and pleasure that we equally indulged in. He grabbed my hips again creating his own swift pace. Slamming my greedy maidenhood down upon his hardness with renewed fervor. We splurged in each other's insatiability, the conviction behind each upward thrust igniting the tingling pleasure beginning low in belly and spreading throughout each and every inch if my body from my hair follicles to the soles of my feet. His release soon followed as he gripped my hips once again slamming me down on his shaft one last time, holding me there in place as I felt his pulsating cock spew his essence deep within the heart of my femininity. His lips sought out my own as we slid down to lay on the couch. I lay underneath his Ares-esqe body as he continued with petite strokes and deep ardent kisses. Completely spent, slumber claimed us both.

I awoke the following morning cold and alone, Trunks' tux jacket laid across me like a small blanket. I sat up feeling like I'd been run over by a freight train. The place between my legs ached. My arms and hips were ringed with bluish bruises and my breasts were adorned in a plethora crimson hued love marks.

I looked around the empty room, noticing all the desk's items had been replaced to their original spots, my gown and shoes were folded neatly on a nearby chair. The door creaked and my attention immediately focused on the visitor as I attempted to cover myself the best I could with the black Armani jacket.

"G'morning, Marron," Trunks entered in his usual tan cargo pants and CC logo shirt. His normally lilac locks were a deep periwinkle; wet from a recent shower, the misbehaved strands falling predictably in front of his eyes. He carried a set of clothes under one arm and two mugs of coffee in either hand.

"Morning," I blushed, gratefully accepting both the coffee and clothes. I practically guzzled the hot java, thankful he had added plenty of creamer and sugar.

"There's a shower in my mom's office if you want to grab one or there's a restroom behind that door." He pointed across the room.

I discarded the jacket looking up as he winced at the collection the discolored patches marring my previously flawless pale skin. I pulled on the clean clothes; his gray cargo pants and an identical C.C. jersey, eyeing the Adidas running shoes suspiciously. He half smiled mentioning, "The shoes belong to Mom; you two wear the same shoe size, hm?"

I headed towards the bathroom, doing my morning business, thankful there was a set of hand towels and a new toothbrush on the counter. I quickly wiped myself down with the hot towel. I brushed my teeth, and ran a comb through my tousled blonde tresses, feeling clean and wide-awake.

"About last night," he began as soon as I left the bathroom, raising his cobalt gaze from the empty coffee mug. "Everything after I relieved the bar of that strawberry wine is kind of fuzzy…I'm sorry if I took advantage of you last nigh-"

"You didn't," I interjected, "Let me fill in the blanks by first saying that I followed you here and if any blame should be placed, place it on my shoulders. You asked me to leave, more than once, but I wouldn't take no for an answer." He frowned, "It was my first time and if it was any consolation I had a really good time last night."

His expression softened as he came to sit beside me on the sofa, pulling his arm around my shoulder and kissing the top of my head, "Did we use any protection?"

"No," I stifled out, disappointment and worry etched across his face. "But I'm on the pill," I confessed, "I'm err…irregular."

He sighed deeply, "It's not your fault Marron, I should've been more responsible. I'm sorry, your first time shouldn't have been with a man so drunk that he vaguely recalls what happened."

"Would you like to remember?" I asked looking up into his azure gaze tentatively pressing my lips to his, barely opening my mouth hoping he'd return my affections. I was overjoyed as he accepted my kiss, hesitantly parting his sweet lips as he briefly touching his tongue with my own. I slid into his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck trying my damndest to rekindle the wildfire that blazed uncontrollably the night before.

Pulling back he searched my face "Marron, what am I going to do with you?"

I looked up into his unreadable face, "Keep me?" I hoped as his blue eyes met mine I asked, "Trunks, why were you so upset last night?"

"This afternoon, I'm leaving to oversee the western productions of Capsule Corporation's Los Angeles offices. I'll be gone roughly two years and then I'll repeat the process in England. Afterwards, I'll come home and replace Mom as C.C.'s new president. I wasn't given a choice," he disheartenly admitted.

His words tore at my heart, as unshed tears threatened to flow. "And here I go throwing myself into the mix. I didn't make things any better, huh?"

"Better for a few hours," he half smiled.

"Now what?"

"Denny's, Waffle House, I.H.O.P., Roscoe's Chicken & Waffles," he jested, unease shining brightly in his demeanor.

"That's not what I meant. I care for you Trunks. I always have, for as long as I can remember. Do you think there's any possibility this could become more than one night?" I hoped against hope, knowing in my heart now as I did last night when I pursued this road it would lead nowhere.

He tightened his arm around my shoulder, resting his chin on the top of my head, sighing, "I don't know Marron. I don't know."

~I still remember when thirty was old and my biggest fear was September when he had to go.
A few cards and letters, and one long distance call, we drifted away like the leaves in the fall.
But year after year I come back to this place just to remember the taste of strawberry wine and

seventeen. The hot July moon saw everything. My first taste of love, bittersweet. Green on the vine,
like strawberry wine~