Author’s Note:Too tired…
Acknowledgments: Domo Michika Tenchi and Silver Dragonfly for beating.
Warnings: Kiddies, KEEP AWAY. Those of you who are of legal age (18+) may proceed at will.
Disclaimer: I don’t own them. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE don’t sue. I’m looking at $38,000 a year for Grad School OO** …*falls over*
Bulma didn’t bother knocking as she entered Vegeta’s room. She took a moment so that her eyes could focus on the particular shadows of the room. She bit back a gasp, as Vegeta’s silhouette was slowly unveiled. He looked like a statue kneeling at the foot of the expansive bed. His muscular arms were crossed, his chin rested on his chest and his eyes were closed. Bulma briefly wondered if he was asleep.
She’d find out soon enough. Bulma took a deep breath then untied the knot of her robe, revealing of her secrets to the room and moonlight. Vegeta had yet to open his eyes.
Bulma padded slowly towards him.
Vegeta could sense her fear and her excitement, yet he remained still…waiting for her to approach him and initiate their union.
Ever so slowly Bulma kneeled in front oh him at the foot of the bed, resting her face against his strong knees. "I am ready," she said in a shallow whisper.
Vegeta opened his eyes, his expression neither pleased nor displeased. He watched her delicate head as it rested on his knees. Bulma turned her face; her luminous blue eyes conveyed her trust in him.
And yet he did not respond.
A shadow of confusion crossed her eyes briefly and doubts began to creep in her mind. Slowly, Bulma stood her full height in front of the Saiya-jin Prince. Her soft full bosom bouncing, yet the Prince did not stir.
"I- I am ready…" Bulma murmured leaning to touch his lips. When he still did not respond, she took bolder measure. "I am ready Vegeta no Ouji…" Bulma softly cried as moved to straddle his lap, gasping at the flush contact of their bodies. "I am ready Vegeta no Ouji," she murmured almost desperately cupping his strong jaw in her small hands she pulled his head forward bit at his lips. "Make me a woman," she moaned between tentative licks and bites. "Make me a woman."
Vegeta watched her, except for his swelling arousal; he still did not make a move to touch her.
Finally, the sleeping lion within Vegeta emerged from hiding and leapt forward to ensnare and devour the innocent in his arms. He took control of the kiss, forcing her mouth open to take in his warm wet tongue and so that he could taste of her sweet honey.
Bulma’s small gasp was swallowed in his hot mouth, her nails dug into his shoulders as she hung on for dear life. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her taste. It was the most intoxicating sweetness he had ever sampled, even sweeter than the mythical heavenly chikyuu-jin nectar, Ambrosia. Finally, he broke the heated kiss. "There is no turning back now," he murmured as nipped and tongued the sensitive nook at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.
In answer, Bulma took one of his large hands in her palm and placed it against her breast. And so the Saiya-jin Prince began his schooling of the Chikyuu-jin Princess.
"Bulma?" Yaumcha whispered from the Balcony. "Bulma, it’s me, Yaumcha…" not waiting for permission, the young bandit slid through the unlocked French doors and into Bulma’s room. "Bulma…please… I know I was a jerk the last time. I’m sorry…" Yaumcha took sat down on the corner of her bed. He stroked the soft sheet, quietly pleading to the empty bed. "Bulma-chan…Nani?" Yaumcha murmured, realizing the object of his desire was not on her bed.
Yaumcha rose from the bed and peered through the room. "Bulma?" He called out. He reached over to turn on the small bedside lamp on her end table. He blinked a few times, adjusting his eyes to the light. But there was no Bulma. Where could she be? He wondered. He had seen her turn out her bedroom light but not leave the compound. Maybe she went downstairs? He thought, deciding to check the kitchen.
"Relax," Vegeta half crooned, half commanded, as he stroked Bulma’s back. Both stood on their knees on the huge bed, Vegeta’s length poised at her entrance.
"I can’t…it’s…you’re too big," Bulma whimpered, biting her lip. She had enjoyed the foreplay immensely, but now that it was for them to join man to woman, she was frightened. The Saiya-jin no Ouji bore an impressive size and she was well aware that losing one’s virginity was no walk in the park.
"There will be some pain," Vegeta admitted. "But it’s to be done if you want experience what comes after."
Bulma mulled his words. She wanted to do this and she wanted it to be with Vegeta. "All right," she whispered trying to do as he said and relax.
"Good girl," he murmured planting several open mouth kisses across her back. He raised his knees slightly ushering the swollen tip of his member just past her moist entrance. Bulma bit back a gasp, her muscles clenching around him.
"Relax," Vegeta groaned. Gods she was tight. He brought a hand between them to play with the jewel nestled in the lavender thicket at her juncture. Her reaction was immediate, her legs instinctively widening and Vegeta took the opportunity to plunge home into her depths.
Bulma gasped at the sharp entry. "Please," she cried. Kami would the burning stop? She was sure he would tear her in two.
Vegeta held still as he waited for Bulma to adjust to his size. When he sensed that she could take the feel of his length inside her, he began a few experimental strokes. Bulma followed suit, her inner walls clenching and unclenching with his thrusts. Ah, she was a natural, Vegeta mused. Her body was made for this, for him.
Yaumcha peered from the door, making sure that her father or mother did not roam the hall. Mr. Briefs was notorious for roaming the compounding at odd hours of the night at times. When the coast was clear Yaumcha stepped out into the hall, he past a couple of guest rooms that lined the wall to the stairs. Just before he reached them, muffled sounds from the last door caught his attention. Yaumcha paused in front of the door.
Oddly suspicious soft cries and low grunts emanated from the room. Compelled by these sounds Yaumcha turned the knob and peeked through the door. His mouth fell open in a muted choke of shock. In the room, on the large four-poster bed was his Bulma being ridden hard by a man that wasn’t him.
Bulma clutched the sheets beneath her, holding on for dear life as the Saiya-jin no Ouji mounted and rode her from behind. Her smooth alabaster skin gleamed with a fine coat of sweat causing her hands and knees to slip. Vegeta moved his hands, which had been occupied with kneading and tweaking her full heavy breasts and slid them up and around to settle on her slick waist.
"Stop moving," he commanded in a hoarse growl, holding her hips still as he stopped his own movements.
Bulma responded with a mewling whimper. "W-Why?" She managed in a choked whisper, looking over her shoulder. Those glazed jewel eyes were almost enough to break Vegeta’s resolve.
"Insatiable little wench," Vegeta chuckled, stroking sweat matted tendrils from her face, and still poised on his knees he lightly patted her bottom eliciting a sharp cry of indignation from her lips. Vegeta laughed then suddenly shifted their positions so that he lay back on his calves, Bulma on his lap her back pressed to his chest, and locking his arms around her waist.
Bulma gasped as the new position brought him even deeper inside her. She closed her eyes as her Prince renewed his delicious movements with in her. Through the haze of passion she momentarily thought back on how uncomfortable it was to feel him enter her at first.
"Oh Vegeta," Bulma moaned, leaning her head back to rest on the crook of his shoulder.
Vegeta nuzzled the delicate skin of her nape and shoulder, his sharp teeth and tongue nibbling and soothing the delicious flesh, soft growls emanating from deep with in his throat. Gods she was perfect, her taste, her smell and he was the first, the last…
Someone watched them.
Vegeta cocked his head to the side his obsidian eyes locking with another pair that peered through the door of his room.
Shit. Yaumcha quickly stepped back, almost tripping with the carpet in the hall. He leaned a hand against the rail of the stairs trying to calm his erratic breathing. He saw him watching them. "Bulma…" Yaumcha choked. "Why?" The young man moaned, a hand fisting at his side. "Why couldn’t it be me?" Tears of frustration and envy welled in the boy’s eyes and he wiped angrily at them. And then he noticed the warm wet feeling at his crotch.
He had messed his pants.
To Be Continued…