Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Sweet Scent of Passion ❯ Call for Help ( Chapter 1 )

The Sweet Scent of Passion

by Orchideater

Warnings: NC17, yaoi, het, yuri Y/Gk, Gk/B, Gk/CC, Y/G/B/CC, implied G/V, and enough Y/B bickering to make it screamingly obvious why they broke up.

Disclaimer: DBZ and all DBZ characters property of Akira Toriyama and official licensees

Summary: G/CC/Y/B This is a *Dragonball* comedy sex fic. You have been warned. Also seeks to answer questions such as: Why is Chichi so cranky and crazy? Why do G+CC seem to have little intimacy? Why did they only have 2 kids when CC wanted many?

A/N: All right, this fic’s as good as it’s gonna get. Time to post it and stop obsessing over it. It’s got it all! Virgins! Problems in the bedroom! Het! Yaoi! Yuri, of all things! A big-ass orgy! Many exclamation points in the author’s notes!

This was supposed to be a one-shot but it ballooned up to 50 pages, so I’ve broken it up into five chapters. I know probably not many people will like it because of the pairings even after I beat myself to death trying to write it, but... I don’t care! :D I’ll have the only G/CC, G/B, Y/G, Y/G/B/CC in the fandom to my name. *passes out cold.*

-

---

- The Sweet Scent of Passion

Chapter 1: Call for Help

Months had passed since the chaotic events of the 23rd budokai. The threat to earth by Piccolo Jr, once terrifying, seemed like a lifetime ago. Contestants in the violent contest had been forced to readjust to the dull hum of everyday life once again, and Capsule Corp. in particular now enjoyed days of peaceful tedium.

Then again, “peace” all depends on one’s perspective.

The stillness of one spring afternoon broke, unexpectedly, by the demanding ring of the telephone. Bulma winced and narrowed her eyes at it. The changing weather had given her a major headache, and this interruption was the last thing she needed when she was trying to relax. At any rate, she was busy with the much more important task of painting her toenails.

“Yamcha, get the phone!” she bellowed from the couch.

Said boyfriends had his own problems, however, as he was twisted into a human pretzel half inside the cabinet under the kitchen sink, trying to replace the garbage disposal as a favor to Mrs. Briefs. The parts didn’t fit together like they were supposed to, he’d been drenched by a hidden reservoir of greasy water, and he didn’t have the proper tools, so naturally he was pissed off.

Adding to his pains, Master Roshi had been visiting for the week and had taken it upon himself to supervise Yamcha’s work. This amounted to him sitting at the kitchen table drinking beer and giving unwanted advice. At least right now he had a brief respite while Roshi had ensconced himself in the bathroom.

He shot a glare in Bulma’s general direction. She was only six feet away from the phone. “I’m really kind of in the middle of something, can’t you get it?”

“Well I’m busy too, and I don’t want to talk to anybody right now.”

“Bulma, I’m cramped and I’m dirty, and I’m not getting out of here just so I can get the phone and then hand it to you. I ain’t getting it!”

“Ugh, fine, you jerk.” Whatever happened to chivalry? She capped her polish and finally grabbed the phone.

“Yeah, what?”

“Oh!” The person on the other end of the line seemed taken aback. “Um... Ah... Is this Bulma Briefs?”

“Yes it is, who’s speaking?”

“Um, well, this is Son Chichi. How are you?”

“Oh, Chichi! Nice to hear from you. I haven’t heard anything from you guys since the wedding,” Bulma said, trying to keep a chipper tone to disguise her annoyance. Chichi was hardly one of her favorite people. Bulma still resented her for swooping down out of the blue and carrying off Goku, who should have rightfully been hers.

Instead of the acerbic comment she really wanted to make, she asked how Goku was doing.

“Oh, fine, fine,” Chichi replied. “Wild, as always, but you couldn’t ask for a sweeter, more enthusiastic man! Such a good hunter. He’s always taking off without telling me where he’s going, though, that drives me up the... Ah, but we have our house set up now, and furnished, and I’ve planted a nice garden and got our clothesline up and such.”

“That sounds great, Chichi.”

A period of dead silence stretched between them.

“Um... Well, anyway,” Chichi started up again in a hurried fashion, “the reason I called was I wanted to thank you and Yamcha for your wedding gift. The noodle-maker is just wonderful. It’s a great help, and such a great timesaver since I have to do so much cooking. I never dreamed Goku would need to eat so much.”

“Glad you like it. We got you a good quality one.” Bulma snickered inwardly at Chichi’s annoyed tone on that last statement. Surprise, surprise, honey. Next time get to know a man for more than a day before you decide he’s your one and only.

She then realized that this whole call was strange; Chichi had sent a thank-you note for the noodle-maker a long time ago. Maybe she needed a receipt and was embarrassed to say she wanted to take it back. “You didn’t get two of them, did you?”

“No, no! That was the only one.”

Okay, so that wasn’t it.

“A-Again, thank you so much. I’m glad you sent it.”

Another lengthy pause followed.

“Um... so!” Chichi finally spoke up. “Um... Bulma... I realize that I don’t know you that well, you being Goku’s friend and all, but I don’t have any girlfriends of my own to talk to... Do you mind if I ask you a rather personal question?”

“Sure you can ask. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer it, but go ahead.”

“Oh, ha-ha! Um, well, you’re one of those independent, modern women, right? A sophisticated city girl and all that.”

“Hh, that’s right.”

“And you’ve been seeing Yamcha for quite a while, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Um... Well, please don’t be offended by my question, but... I know you’re not married, but... have you two... done it?” she whispered.

Bulma almost broke into laughter. “Have we had sex, you mean? Well, of course. I wouldn’t buy a car without giving it a test drive, you know.”

“Ah, hah-hah... ah.” Chichi didn’t quite get the joke, but was relieved that Bulma hadn’t taken offense. “And you’re happy with your, er, lovemaking?”

“Yeah, sure. In fact it’s probably the only reason I’ve kept him around so long!”

“And he’s satisfied with you too?”

“Damn straight. I know how to ride him like a cowgirl,” she boasted, voice rising and brain switching into gossip mode. Chichi blushed crimson over the phone. “His toes curl, his mouth hangs open, sometimes he’ll make these funny little whimpers, God, you have no idea what a trip it is to know you’ve got your man totally in your power–”

“ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT OUR SEX LIFE IN THERE?!” Yamcha snarled from the kitchen.

“Uf, whatever,” she muttered. Note to self: never talk about the boyfriend when he’s only one room away. “Anyway, what’s this all about, Chichi? Why do you ask?”

“W-well...”

A sudden insight struck Bulma and filled her with devilish glee. “Are you having problems with Son-kun?”

That opened the floodgates.

“YES!” Chichi sobbed. “Oh, Bulma, I don’t think we’re doing it right. Goku knows nothing about sex, and frankly I don’t know hardly that much either, and I don’t know what to do to make it better. Goku just has no interest in me at all! Nothing gets him excited. We go to bed, and he just rolls over and goes to sleep. If I want us to get intimate I have to be the one to initiate it, and he just acts like it’s all a big bother!”

Bulma waited while Chichi sniffled and snuffled into a hankie, then continued dismally.

“I tried different things. I came to him in my bra and panties and asked what he thought, and he said I looked cold. I brought him breakfast in bed stark naked, and he told me he didn’t like coffee. I ‘accidentally’ dropped the whipped cream for the pancakes on my chest and asked him for some help, and he laughed at me and handed me the napkin! What’s wrong with him? Or is it all my fault? I feel like such a failure!” she wailed.

Oh, this is priceless, Bulma thought, giggling to herself. Lord, but country folk are ignorant. Even so, she had to admit it was strange that Goku wouldn’t find any of that appealing. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise that she didn’t get him after all.

“Well, you know,” she said, “some guys just aren’t into that kind of foreplay, they want to get right down to business. Goku’s never been the touchy-feely type. He used to give hugs when he was really excited, but that’s about it. What have you tried in bed?”

“Oh, w-well, you know– kissing and petting... and such.”

“Have you tried sucking him off?”

“Wh-what? Oh gods, I just can’t talk about this over the phone! It’s too embarrassing!”

Bulma grinned savagely. Clueless, virginal Chichi obviously needed a lesson on how to incapacitate a man with pleasure. “Look, honey, I’m going to do you a big, big favor...”

“Dammit, what happened to that washer,” Yamcha grumbled, feeling around blindly on the floor of the cabinet, unaware of the plans unfolding in the next room or the blue-haired vixen heading straight for him.

“Yamcha!”

A yelp and a nasty klonk were her response as he smacked his head against the underside of the sink. “Nnnngh... shit... What IS it?”

She grabbed his arm and unceremoniously began dragging him out of the cabinet.

“Hey, wha– what’s the matter?”

“Forget the sink. Get showered and get dressed. It’ll take us two hours just to fly to Chichi’s place.”

“We’re going out? Why, what’s going on? What about your headache?”

“It has miraculously disappeared,” she said mysteriously.

“So why are we all of a sudden going to see Goku?”

Bulma punched the air with her fist. “We’re on a mission! Goku may be a master of the martial arts, but apparently he needs a little help with the marital arts. O-ho-ho!” she laughed dramatically behind her hand.

Yamcha sweatdropped at her bad pun, and as she pushed him up the stairs something in him wanted nothing more than to crawl back under that sink and shut the door.

---