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Whatever Works Best For You	By : chroniclyflaming Category: Dragon Ball Z > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 2801 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Do not own DBZ and am making no profit from this

Chapter List
- 1-Whatever Works Best For You
- 1
The prompt: Bulma/Goku/Krillin

So I was re-reading that story where Fortuneteller Baba uses her and her brother's porn collections to predict everyone's future. In the part about ChiChi, a pamphlet with the title "What To Do If Your Husband Is Cheating On You With His Best Friend" shows up.
And since Bulma and Krillin are both Goku's best friends... yeah you get the idea. Despite the pamphlet title, I really don't mind if this is set before Goku and ChiChi get married. Just pick whatever timeline works best for you and roll with it.
As for kinks, since this does involve Bulma, perhaps a little femdom is in order with her ordering the boys around a bit. Oh, and Goku making good use of his tail might be nice too, since we really don't have enough weird tail!pornz going on. (And if you pick a timeline where Goku doesn't normally have his tail, it is okay if he just happens to have it in the story because A Wizard Did It.)
As always, some bonus points to those who reference other fills, since we basically have a mini-fanfiction-verse going on here.

The fill:

She couldn’t believe how much the ‘boys’ had grown. They had actually, finally, grown up. Literally. No longer at people’s waist level, they could now exchange eye contact that didn’t involve straining. Plus they were even bigger sideways, all bulging smoothly with muscles, tapered, like some statue of an impossibly beautiful god. Especially her old friend Goku.

God, how he’d changed. God, how he’d gotten so much hotter. Even with that stupid, godforsaken tail dangling and waving from his waist.

Bulma had nearly forgotten about Yamcha at the sight of her oldest friend. He still had that ridiculous hair…that in retrospect now looked cool. Like a trademark. How could her old boyfriend, scars and all, compare to such a fine blossom of manhood? He couldn’t, and that wasn’t anyone’s fault.

She had grown, just like her companions, and matured. Learned wisdom. You couldn’t blame someone for this sort of thing, it just happened, and all you could do was go along with it. And not overthink and analyze these new facts.

That’s why she was outside his door, knocking, wearing a fresh layer of non-stick-waterproof-lipstick and her tightest most flattering dress. A nice purse full of supremely important things at her side that hopefully wouldn’t break or fall apart. Or reveal itself to be Oolong.

When he opened the door, the world stopped turning on its axis, the universal laws of gravity go off and be damned. Goku was shirtless, and smiling. And wet. “Hey, Bulma!”

Her eyes finally trailed downward of his pale flawless chest dappled with droplets of water that begged to be licked off, and took in that he was only wearing his boxers. Clearly, clearly he’d been waiting for her. Angels should be gliding from the rainy grey sky, carrying sunbeams and waving trumpets. Then they would grab that disgusting old man Roshi and carry him far away before he could try and ruin her evening.

There was rustling behind him, someone else in that room, goddamnit, some world tournament floozy had sunk her claws in first. The man couldn’t walk into a room now without someone dropping their panties sure, but she should be able to go first. Had she not been the one to wash his back, when he hadn’t known what electricity was? Had she not suffered and without a single clue that there might be a reward for it at the end? That was compassion and selflessness, right there.

Goku turned, showing off his lovely, lovely back. All long muscles, the dimples above his slim waist. “It’s Bulma, Krillin!”

Krillin, Goku’s other best friend and apparent roommate, came out from the bathroom. Bulma nearly breathed a sigh of relief, mind already plotting how to get rid of him. Then she looked at the other man again. He was wearing a robe and wiping his hairless head down with a towel, for some reason. Some terrible reason.

“Oh, Bulma’s here.” Krillin did not sound pleased. It was both absurd and made total sense that they would have a thing. A terrible thing. They’d grown up together in the same house, competed against each other, the shorter man’s death had driven Goku near insanity, Krillin exuberant hug complete with tears as they embraced one another, finally. Bastard. Short bastard.

“Hey, Krillin, could you towel my tail dry? Since you said not to shake it off?”

“No!”

The little bald man looked embarrassed and tried to explain himself to their guest. “It’s not like that. We, I got in right after him, I had to wash his back. It wasn’t…”

“So, Bulma, what’s up?” He still cocked his head that way. Looking deeply at her, with a new serious gleam to his eyes, she nearly melted into his bare arms. But Krillin was there, and if she shoved him out, he’d know exactly what she had planned. With those knowing round black eyes. Now he was the one to wash Goku’s back.

Sure, Krillin had suffered from Goku as well. But he’d often have these little sarcastic lines about everything, and he could be nearly (okay, not nearly) as perverted as Roshi. They were even both bald. What did Goku see in him, besides a bitter little sub with bad—hell, non-existent-- haircut, if admittedly nice muscles? Too thick eyebrows, a noseless round face, with a squarish jaw and round little chin, basically no cheekbones. Goku should have been out of his league. Rather than competing with Bulma for his affections.

All she really wanted was to kiss Goku a little, just see what was under the hood a little. Tinker with him. Explore that terrifying tail. Maybe she would just follow the plan as best she could, and hope that Krillin would just leave. Give him some clues that would tip him off to vacate the room.

“You know, I was just recalling our old times together. Alone. And it occurred to me that you were a real legal adult, and that I never got to celebrate that with you.” Alone.

“Celebrate? Like a party?”

“Sure, but with just us.”

“Aw, but I want Krillin here too.” He reached out to wrap a burly arm around his friend. “He’s an adult too.”

“Hard to tell.”

“Hey.”

“So, what are we going to do? Go out for dinner?”

“You just ate.”

“I could eat again,” Goku admitted. Did such hunger extend out to other things? He’d always been such a determined kid, full of energy…Krillin, though, didn’t look exhausted. Either he’d gotten stronger too, or they maybe hadn’t got to it. Or Goku was not such a demi-god as she’d thought.

“I don’t know Goku.” The bald fighter was nearly making a face at Bulma, making her realize that yes, he could indeed sense what she wanted. She glared back. “We have to fight tomorrow.”

“Just a short party.”

His unhappiness deepened and turned into something ugly.

Goku nudged his friend. “Uh, we could do that? Right?”

“If it’s only a…brief one.” He caught himself, and shook his head. Who was this strange, beautiful woman who was so overpowering his boyfriend’s miniscule mind and turning Goku into her own sex slave? You could almost feel bad for the little guy. Probably didn’t have too many other offers, and for a moment, she almost experienced a strong surge of guilt.

Until she looked at Goku, who smiled at her.

Bulma pulled the tequila and gin bottles from her purse. She didn’t need to smile or smirk in victory, or make a face over Krillin’s remark. The ball was slowly, but steadily, heading in her court. As always. As it should be. “You guys have a minibar, right?”

After an hour of takeout and scared servers, a jealous Krillin, a woozy Goku, she could say she was loaded. But it was a nice buzz, not one that had her puking her guts out in the car, or passing out on some stranger’s lawn, ass in the air and broken bottle in one hand, while Yamcha either trying to scrape her up, or leaving her behind for the cops to wake up her.

Or to be found by her mother, pants down, sitting on the copier machine with hundred of admittedly blurry copies of her fetching ass.

If she’d had some of those copies right now, she might have been able to lure Goku away.

Krillin kept wanting to order pizza, claiming that he’d seen these ridiculously hot twins working at the place next door, right by the tournament stadium. Or maybe it was the one in West City. Whatever. Pizza was good, with or without hot twins. He had a strange gleam in his eye, as he pontificated over this.

Bulma snorted. “Please, what you I invite them in to partake of your own hot pastrami?”

“Maybe!”

“No way.”

“I could really go for some hot pastrami…”

Both looked at Goku, who was staring off into space.

Probably, probably not what he’d meant. Though if he was gay, that would explain so much.

His little friend was nearly biting his lip, praying to whatever god was listening to make Goku at least bi-curious. Or he was trying not to laugh. But over what, exactly? That Goku was gay indeed, and Bulma was wasting her time. Yes, that was so, so very funny. It was hard not to break a bottle over the short fighter’s head. And then break one over Goku’s.

He looked so innocent, sitting there, imagining his smoked meat.

This would all make Yamcha’s head spin around. Here was still here, in this hotel, in some room. Probably alone, or maybe with a drooling groupie. Hell, maybe he was banging those pizza twins. While eating some pastrami.

She rubbed down one arm, trying to shove aside any misgivings over being here. Yamcha was doing whatever, whoever, and she was here, free to do and have whatever.

Her evening would have been better so far if she’d just ordered the pizza, because at least then she could watch Krillin stutter and mumble his way through some attempt at flirting. That would uplift anyone’s spirits. Maybe he would be so crushed by their refusal that he could be sent off to another room to weep into his pillow. While in this room, Goku could do the same for her.

“Goku.” She leaned in closer, pushing her chest out. Subtle. Goku needed to be eased into this, not just thrown into the shower and tricked into having sex. That little, little bastard. “You know. Despite this drinking, you’re not really a man yet.”

“Huh?” He looked at her, then down at himself. “I’m not?”

“Oh, no.”

“No.” Krillin was torn between horror and anger. “No, Bulma. No.”

“Shutupgetout! Now, Goku, in order for you to become a man—“

“I won’t let you do anything to Goku!”

“Stop being so jealous,” she hissed. “Don’t ruin his life just for the sake of your own pettiness.”

“Me?! I’m jealous—of what? I’ve seen what you do to Yamcha; I get attacked enough already.”

“You’re jealous of me!” Bulma hurled at Krillin. Who was making this dumb little frowning face. God, he was so short Goku probably had to lift him up and screw him on when they had sex. Ugh. What an image. She grimaced into her glass.

“Why would anyone be jealous of you?”

“You. For so many reasons. Like the fact that your ‘big friend’ prefers me.”

“What—why would someone you like, ever?”

“Uh. You guys?”

“Shush, Goku. Close that pretty mouth and just sit there.”

Krillin was making this face, that narrowed his eyes and pulled either side of his mouth downward. “I didn’t need to hear that.”

“Then get out.” This time, she really did swing a bottle in his direction. Just a warning. This time.

“No way am I going to let you hurt Goku like that!” His chest was swelling. Pale skin peeking through the top of his gi. Lightly muscled. Huh. Well. There were worse people her oldest friend could have hooked up with. But also better. Why not Yamcha—out of respect for her? Oh, god, she shouldn’t even be thinking about that long-haired idiot who couldn’t even call (collect or not) her to tell her he was still alive.

She deserved this moment of cathartic…sex. And Krillin was not going to ruin this for her. Goku’s boyfriend or not. Maybe it made her a homewrecker (or, homelesswrecker) but she couldn’t care about something like that. Hadn’t her own father and mother told her to be bloodthirsty, albeit when dealing with business, but it wasn’t like you could turn something like that off. And Goku and Krillin weren’t out of the closet about their relationship, so technically she didn’t even know officially that they were together.

So it was okay.

Fuck Krillin, and Goku. Yes. Fuck them both.

Well, maybe not literally.

Although, that would be funny. Neither of them would have any clue, probably. She’d have to teach them both. And if Yamcha found out, he’d cough up blood. Oh, yes, he would.

“Fine then.” Bulma threw her hands up. “You can just stick around and watch, you little pervert. At least now you don’t have to drill holes set really far down in the walls.”

“What-I--what?”

“We all know. You and Master Roshi: two peas in one sick pod.”

“…I, I am not—how dare you, why…no. You’re disgusting. This is why Yamcha—“

“WHAT?!”

“Nothing.” Krillin, the pathetic little shrimp, was going pale and trying to not cringe. Some big strong fighter. Tomorrow, Goku was so going to wipe the floor with him, and not in the way they both so loved. Well. Maybe.

“You shut your mouth, Krillin.” Bulma threatened. “Or I’ll inform everyone about your ‘tail wiping’ you do to Goku.”

“Hey! It’s not like that!” But the blush seemed a louder accusation than even one she could come up with.

Goku calmly waggling his tail in the air. “Huh?”

Right. Focus on him. Goku. Lovely, lovely Goku with that broad chest and chiseled muscles, and legs that were nothing short of godlike. That ridiculous, adorable hair and easy charming smiles. White teeth and even nose.

Ignore his pasty, controlling fuck toy.

Though, at least he fought back. Yamcha would just roll over and let her take over in their arguments. And Goku just winced and acted like some moron who didn’t understand anything. It was always the pretty ones that were so dumb and useless. She was such an aberration in that regard. So rare, a blossoming desert flower, just like Yamcha, that pretty spineless ex staying in this hotel, had told her. That handsome face above hers, and always caring in his nervous way.

But even he hadn’t visited her. So Bulma burned in indignation, and wanted to destroy whatever they’d had with an empty-headed, if also kind-hearted tall brunette with eyes that even she had to admit could be compared to some gem, like black polished onyx. He was so cute, you could go on about his eyes and precious stones, and not feel like some douche.

Goku and Krillin were at least making up for lost time, here, together. Savoring each other.

And she’d…ruined that.

Maybe this was what Krillin was talking about, with Yamcha not wanting to be with her. Was she so bad that he’d stayed away from her for so long, had come back with scars that he still hadn’t explained, didn’t want anything to do with her? Was she too loose with insult, and stringy with compliments? Her good, non-stick-waterproof-lipstick, wasted.

She should have been sweeter, like Goku and Krillin. Sure, Krillin could be a dick, but he had a good soul, beneath the scowling looks and smug smiles that made him look like a toad. He’d won over Goku, after all.

--Unless, well, Goku was so simple. Naive. Krillin was the more worldly of the pair, having come from East City, and had actually grown up with people. Monks, sure, but compared to literally animals, he was doing better on the people front than Goku. How hard would it be to convince Goku that he should just take his pants off right now, that yes, this was all a training exercise, now bend over and—no, Krillin was almost certainly the bottom. He just had that air about him, a guy who would always end up on his stomach or back for his partner.

He could have definitely talked his attractive friend into doing all that. Hell, Bulma was planning on doing just about the same thing. Maybe they would have even used matching phrases. It would have been something to compare notes.

Bulma spun a bottle between her fingers. “So. Krillin. Would you say that you make Goku happy?”

His mouth opened and closed. Not a bad mouth. Less toad-like now. “Not in that way. You know what way. Don’t say stuff like that. People will think things. Lies.”

“Sure. But really, just between us—“

“It isn’t just us! Goku’s right here!”

She barely spared him a glance. “He doesn’t count. C’mon. Look at him.”

The taller fighter just blinked at them both.

Krillin sighed. “Okay. We’re just friends. That’s it, Bulma. I’ve never touched him. Sexually. Romantically. Oh, god, I can’t believe I had to say that.”

“What are you two talking about?”

“Huh. Funny. I was just about to ask how you got a hot piece of hunkmeat in your bed.”

“’Hunkmeat’? Where?”

None spared Goku a look, even when he went to paw at the beds.

“Not cool, Bulma.”

“I could use some advice in that sector. Really, Krillin, buddy, I’m trying to open up to you.”

“A second ago, you were nearly shoving me out of the room, and opening your legs to—“

“Shut up! That’s not now. I understand now. I comprehend. Now teach me, oh wise Krillin, how you get some cute guy to have a serious relationship with you that makes both of you so happy.”

Goku was nearly losing his grip on the towel, to her and no doubt, Krillin’s delight. What had happened to that little boy that ran around without any clothes on? But then, how were they to know that they would regret teaching him shame? That taming that wild jungle boy, would be to their chagrin?

Krillin was making this ridiculous face at Goku. And his ass. All disturbed and trying for pretending he wasn’t totally into the guy. What had those monks done to the guy, to make him have to hide so deeply into the closet? Poor bald shrimp. So in denial about how he felt. At the least, shouldn’t she try to loosen him up, make him admit how he felt, if only for the delight of his embarrassment. Plus the blackmail.

“It’s okay Krillin; I understand.”

“No, I don’t think you do!”

“But you don’t need to hide it. So, you’re gay!—“

He sputtered around a little.

“—there’s nothing wrong with that. No one will care.”

“I care! Because it’s not true!”

“You know who will care though,” Bulma brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “Your friends. Who you’re lying to.”

“I am not! You’re just delusional. That’s why Yamcha doesn’t like you!”

“You shut that mouth!”

“He’s the one that’s probably gay! Probably like that because of you.”

“Hey, guy’s,” Goku’s voice was soft. “It’s getting late. Maybe we should go to bed?”

The other two stared at him, both trying to form words.

“You can sleep with Krillin, Bulma, ‘cause there’s room on his bed,” the tall man went on, straightening his sheets. Not looking at Bulma or Krillin. “Well, goodnight.”

“Um.”

He flopped onto the bed, then rolled over. Exposing so much of himself. “What?”

“Can I share a bed with you?”

“Bulma!” Krillin nearly screamed. “And jeez, man, put some clothes on!”

“But I’m going to bed, isn’t that okay?” Goku complained, the towel around his waist pulling up and sorts of precarious.

“You’re going to bed Goku,” she promised. “With us.”

“Oh god.”

“Krillin,” she turned to her. “I’m going to make your greatest dreams come true.”

He looked up. “You’re leaving?”

Bulma let that one go. For the sake of the evening. “I will allow you to be here this evening. You can stand in a corner and watch, so long as you’re quite. Maybe I will even allow you to take part in some limited fashion. Maybe you could be a fluffer?”

“I don’t know what that is. No, don’t tell me. And what the hell do you mean, I ‘can take part’? If you’re so convinced Goku and I are…together, why are you trying to sleep with him?”

She shrugged. “Just because there’s a goalie doesn’t mean you can’t score.”

Krillin thought on that for a moment. “That’s terrible.”

“But it’ll be okay.” The blue-haired woman leaned forward, not sure if the bald fighter was even tall enough to properly look down her dress. “We’ll all get something.”

“No we don’t! You just want Goku to yourself.”

“I could say the same for yourself.”

“But I’m actually telling the truth.” He was trying not to look desperate. As usual, he failed.

“Krillin, this is going to happen. Whether you want it or not. You can’t follow Goku around forever—no matter how much you want to.”

“When did this come from? One awkward moment in the shower, and now I’m branded forever?”

“Obviously. How about this, I’ll never mention what happened here after…what happens here,” she concluded. “We do whatever. And never discuss it.”

He looked so torn. Flushed and embarrassed. Then he turned to stare at Goku. Then back to her. “Uh-uh, you know, I’m really not into him. And well, I think that, um, I don’t want to hurt Yamcha.”

“You idiot. We’re not together—and neither are you and I!”

“But, you said…”

“I meant that we’d both jump Goku. Well, I would. Let Goku ravish me. You could mess with the big guy, a little.”

“Wow. You’re so kind.”

“Hey, at least I’m trying to compromise to make this work. All you do is complain.”

“I don’t want to sleep with Goku! Please.” Krillin was an inch from praying at her feet. That Bulma didn’t mind at all. “I don’t.”

“Hmph.” It was wonderful to have a guy nearly begging for her. Sure, he wasn’t Yamcha, or Goku, but still. It helped a little. That, and the alcohol. It helped loosen that little knot in her chest. “Think of the things he could do with that tail though.”

A spasm worked through that round face. He clearly needed a lifeline, a pretext for all this. “Hey. We’re drunk. And we never have to discuss this night ever again.”

“That doesn’t…hey, look, I’m not into guys.”

“No one said you were.”

“You did!”

“Now, now. We’re drunk, young, and might be injured tomorrow. Right now’s the time to just relax.”

“And have some screwed up threesome? Uh-huh. No thanks, that’s really not my things.”

“It will be. Tonight. C’mon. Just tonight. I swear. Krillin, Krillin, look at me.”

He did, reluctantly dragging his eyes upward and grinding his teeth.

“Let’s face it, you’re not exactly beating women away with a stick. Or men either, for that matter. This may be the only chance you have for something as crazy and awesome as this.”

Krillin bit his lip, black eyes narrowing.

“Hey. You guys? Are you going to go to bed soon? Because it’s harder to sleep with you guys talking and the lights on.”

“Oh, Goku.” She smiled at him. And when Krillin turned his head to look and analyze Goku as well, she ended up grinning. “You’re not going to get much sleep tonight.”

“Uh, sorry, man,” his eyes seemed increasingly glassy. “But maybe she’s right?”

“Of course I’m right.”

Krillin had passed some moral threshold. "I, uh, oh, god, I'm so not drunk enough for this."

She handed him a bottle. "Now, let's go talk Goku into joining us. C'mon. Make with the puppy dog eyes. Then make out with him."

He took the bottle like it was filled with kerosene and there was a wick hanging out of the top of it. "Are you sure about this?" Trying to push the responsibility onto her. The blame. As always, Bulma would be the mature one, and shoulder that.

"Drink. Get Goku drunk. I'm going to get ready."

A giddy flush crossed that pale face. A growing grin. So easy to manipulate the little guy. His head was going to explode from all this. "Really? How?"

"You'll see. In the meantime," she pouted a perfectly shaped finger at Goku, who blinked and tilted his head like a dog looking at the TV. What are the humans doing? What is going on?

There was nothing sweeter than seeing her plans unfurling. Krillin stood up, dusted his knees off uncomfortably. She turned her back on them, riffling through her purse, feeling for the zippers on her dress. "Um. Goku. You, ah, you know what adults do, right? What am I saying, you grew up with Master Roshi too. You remember that stuff the people in those magazines and movies and posters? While being...naked?"

"Um. They did lots of things."

"Specifically, though?"

"Like bathing each other? That thing with the toes?"

"Stop right there. We're not doing that."

"Okay. It seemed like that would tickle, anyway."

"Anyway. You know, that stuff they were doing that made them so happy they would shout for joy?"

"Oh, sure."

"That's what we're going to do. Yeah. Yup. We're going to do this. Oh, god, we're actually going to do this. Well. Maybe it won't be so bad? Yeah, it might be okay? Depends on what our jobs are. Who's doing what. Whom. This isn't how I expected my first time to go. A little more candlelight, a little less people."

"Huh?"

"Goku. I don't know any other way to say this. We're going to engage in sexual intercourse."

"Krillin," Bulma yelled at the boys, "there's a million better ways to say that."

"Hey-ooh. What are you wearing? Wow." Krillin was all red-faced and big eyes.

"Aren't you cold?" Goku scratched his ear.

"Yes." She had to shove herself past her own moral event horizon, talk over that voice that screamed for cautiousness, that reminded her of easy smiles and strawberries and picnics her mother would magically interrupt, as though she could sense the rising teenage hormones in the air. "That's why I need two strong men into my bed to warm me up."

The shorter fighter giggled like a six-year-old. The taller one still looked confused. "You want us to make a fire?"

In her--no, euphemisms clearly weren't the answer with Goku.

And now she was just standing in front of two teenage boys, one of whom at least was ogling her with the proper respect such a sight deserved, in her underwear. Actually, underwear was too kind a word. Even lingerie implied more clothe than she was wearing. And it was cold in this room.

Two pairs of dark eyes, expected things (totally opposite things, sure) from her. She had all the power. Right. No need to be so nervous. Eye contact was no big deal, really, because she was in charge, and she would have these two eating out of her hand, or eating out of something. Right.

Krillin gave her an encouraging smile. With too many teeth.

Goku was back to scratching his ear.

These were the two men she was supposed to sleep with.

At least Yamcha showed more interest. And had good hair. But he wasn’t here, though that might have been interesting, and more comfortable. It was always so easy and familiar to boss him around, as opposed to these two teenage boys who were still filling out. The shorter man was beginning to fidget, and getting these creepy little smiles of anticipation, like a kid at Christmas. Goku, still blissfully innocent.

She had to fix that, right now. “Goku, get over here.”

“Huh?”

“Come over here now. You too, I guess, Krillin. To a lesser extent.”

For once, he didn’t complain. There was some relief that at least the short stack wanted to be there, and knew what the hell she was talking about. To a lesser extent.

Still wearing that creep grin. No, she was drawing a line. Come what will, but no way was she sleeping with him. Goku, or herself in the shower as she attempted to wash failure off. He could mess around with the tailed man, hell, he could mess with Yamcha for all she cared, but she was going to draw the line at that round face and needy little small hands.

Let him beg all he wanted.

“Okay,” Krillin said, oblivious. “We have to get into the bed, right? Will we even all fit?”

“Maybe?”

“Guess we’ll have to see.”

Then she was awkward perched there, looking down at her feet and recently painted toenails while Krillin had to shove and herd Goku onto the bed. “And don’t jump up and down.” A glance towards Bulma. “Actually, go ahead.”

“Uuuugh. You’re so disgusting.”

“Sorry. Really. I can be a better gentleman.” He fluffed a pillow.

Goku was still only wearing a towel, and Bulma had to give the ex-monk a hard look before he got it. “Oh, buddy. Take the towel off.”

“What? Why? You guys all hate it when I’m naked.”

“Not anymore.”

“Right, now we’re lukewarm about it.”

“So,” there was a bizarre spark growing in his dark eyes. “That mean I don’t have to wear pants anymore?”

“Only not around us,” Bulma warned. “I don’t want you to get picked up for indecent exposure.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Goku whipped off the towel. “But I’m just glad to not have to wear clothes.”

“…”

“…huh.”

Two pairs of eyes, bright blue and beady black, glanced off his junk. “Huh.”

“Ah, this is so much better.” Again, the brawny teen bounced up and down a little on his bed. This time, Krillin didn’t stare at Bulma’s chest. And she didn’t blame him.

“So.” His nasally drone filled the room. “Goku’s naked. She’s in her underwear. I guess it’s my turn.”

Like he was one of her father’s attempts at making a toy, the bald teen reached up and pulled his ugly yellow sweater off. Why he’d jumped into that rather than just stay in his robe or in something less hideous, she had no idea.

“Oh, wow, are you going to do a strip tease,” Bulma deadpanned. “Go slow. I’ll go get my money.”

“Shut up.”

Then she and Goku watched him awkwardly shove down his pants, take off his socks, and then thumbing down his underwear off a pasty ass. Not quite as magnificent as Goku’s unveiling, but they did have some things in familiar. Besides the well-built muscles and nice abs and pale skin.

“Okay. I’m naked.”

“Duh.”

“So.” He gave her that sad, little-boy-innocent stare.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Get started.”

“Doing…what?”

“Him.”

Goku blinked at them. “What?”

“Start blowing him. While I watch. Admiringly.” Though it honestly wasn’t doing much for Bulma to see that. Maybe she was just getting tired? Alcohol wearing off.

“Um. Maybe. A little.” Krillin had to shove his arm behind Goku and wedge himself between the tall fighter and Bulma in an attempt to get into the right position. “Just a little. And this doesn’t mean anything. Doesn’t count. Understand?”

“Whatever.”

His head was just resting in Goku’s thigh, just trying to work up enough courage to go through with this. Bulma had to admit she had expected him to storm out in tears before coming to this point. Maybe running to his Master to get her to stop. Telling on her to Yamcha. His eyes were screwed tight. Then he finally leaned forward to kiss the tip of his friend’s uninterested penis.

So, maybe they definitely hadn’t had a thing going on. Life was a series of learning experiences. Such as this.

“Krillin?” His voice was surprisingly even. “What are you doing?”

“Uuuck. Just...pretend, can’t believe this, just pretend I’m a girl or something.”

“…Why?”

“Because…because Bulma’s sick!”

“I am not! Now get to blowing him.”

Half-naked before two nude teenage boys, one of at least was showing some interest. Huh. Nightmare of parents; not her own, probably, but of other’s. These two’s, if they were still alive. Right. They would be shocked, especially probably Krillin’s.

She ran a hand down the short lingerie. Could she really take her clothes off?

But she had started this, and needed to do something. At the least, she could maybe work with this. Two men performing for her, totally hot. Could use this. Completely. At least she was a little bit wet, enough to keep going with it. Yep. Sitting on a bed while two of her friends had oral sex, and she was in charge, and this was all good and hot.

Then she watched Krillin trying to choke down more of Goku’s knob. Honestly, seemed like the little bald guy was getting more out of this than the spiky-haired guy. He just looked confused. “Dude. That tickles.”

How all this would make Yamcha laugh. Then be all grossed out. Then laugh some more. She could nearly hear the sound of his guffaws in her head. ‘Oh, Bulma.’ He would’ve forgiven her for this. Just like he’d forgiven her for so much other things.

“Goddamnit, Goku.” Krillin pounded on the bed. “It’s not that bad.”

“It feels weird.”

Because it was. This entire things was just…it wasn’t doing it for her. Maybe Bulma wasn’t drunk enough, or maybe she felt bad for Goku or really bad for Krillin, or maybe it was impossible to completely block out the outside influences that told her this wasn’t going to work. Goku was still just a kid in so many ways, and she didn’t feel much of anything for Krillin, muscles or not. Forget about making Yamcha happy, how could she look herself in the eye after sleeping with these two? “I don’t feel right about this. You two. I dunno. I thought sweet revenge against Yamcha for ignoring me for so long would feel better. Right. This.” She shook her head. “This is just wrong.”

Krillin’s face dropped. Alarmed. Still with a bit of an erection.

“Yeah. Uh. This is making me uncomfortable. It tickles.”

“No, you guys, we can do this!” Krillin grabbed at Goku’s tail, to the dismay of the taller man, who squealed. “We can. Look, he’ll do weird stuff with his tail. Whatever you want. I can blow him; it’s fine. Really. Just come back.

“You two can have sex, and I’ll—dunno, maybe we can double-team him. Or something. Anything. At least a handjob. For one of us? Or have one of us touch you?”

“No thanks.” She looked around for her clothes. Never had her dress felt so warm, and so long. Neither of the boys even seemed to care when she empty the minibar into her purse. “I should get going. It’s getting late.”

“You can’t just leave now! You started it, now finish it! Please?”

She could imagine them all together in bed, a torrent flurry of limbs. Sweaty hands sliding against her pressure points, inside her, grasping. That disturbingly pliant tail against her mound at just the right angle, the right pressure. Learning how red Krillin’s face could get. Holding well-built shoulders, the muscles firm beneath her fingernails. Could feel herself sandwiched, pounded into the bed, soaked and squirming beneath, groaning loud enough for everyone to hear and listen in awe and jealousy. At one point, Goku would probably complain about them on his back. Then she would have to kick him, and try to pull him up, and have to stick it into her for him.

She could imagine having to go the rest of her with the humiliation. It wasn’t that she had a problem with going through so many members of her group, because they all were friends, and most of them were obviously attracted to her. But to be the person who had to force Goku into learning what sex was, firsthand? Bulma wanted to take a pass on that. He was too inexperienced. He and Krillin both. Hell, it wouldn’t be some awesome orgy. They were teenage boys and virgins; it would last five minutes, and then an awkward ten minutes of having to clean up.

Yamcha was, no matter his other faults, as varied and numerous as they were, never had such a problem in that regard. Mostly. As lovely as bossing two muscular men around, it just wasn’t as good as bossing her own one man around.

Huh. She really did love the lug. Right now, she actually missed and wanted him near to laugh at her jokes, to smile at her with that handsome face. To be with a man who know what sex was. She would have her healthy relationship, and continue on her friendship with these two lungs.

And those two morons, they would in time find someone with whom they’d feel the same. Maybe. And then they could have wild sex, and it would be magical, and very quick and messy but with less shame, because there would be real love to not scare those disgusted girls off. Or, in Krillin’s possible case, guys.

“Oh, hell, why don’t you two give each other handjobs, and call it a night? Good night, Goku.”

He waved to her. “Night! Hey, Krillin, could you get off?”

Krillin was near tears, and still partially resting on Goku’s lap. “No, that’s the point!”

The big guy was still immune to the sloppy mouth that had been on him. Probably wouldn’t have even reacted to her, or any other female goddess of sex. Now she just felt sorry for Goku, since clearly he would never understand the joys and pleasures of fucking. You had to feel sorry for any woman that liked him. “Get off him, Krillin.”

“It’s not the same if you leave! Then there’s no pretext, and I need one of those for this.”

“He’s not even getting hard, Krillin. Look, I think this might start preparing you for your life ahead. Maybe you should take this as an opportunity to brace yourself for the disappointments ahead.”

“This sucks!”

“Not enough, apparently.”

He was more than a little distraught. And still hard. Poor little guy was probably going to have to spend more of the night, in the shower, with a bottle. “Oh, haha, yes, make your little jokes! Just leave. Should have known this was too good to be true.”

She shrugged, adjusting the shoulder of her dress. “Guess it was.”
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