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His Sister The Keeper	By : TimedWatcher Category: Dragon Ball Z > Het - Male/Female Views: 808 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z nor the characters from it I do not make any money from the writing of this story

Chapter List
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He knelt down on planks of wood, staring down into the shallow depths, as the bow of a small boat stared back up to him from it's grave, nearly invisible from being covered up by ribbons of light - the obvious hole created by Eighteen still drawing the odd bubble upwards like somebody was still in there. The dock was shadowed by the roof above, with natural light reflecting in from the outside. Each plank was visibly spaced, allowing him to see underneath his feet - the kind that if he weren't careful, he could catch his toe by accident. The place noisily creaked as he passed by fishing rods that lined the walls, as a yellow container caught his eye.
He was thankful he looked inside first before clumsily digging, as hooks stuck out on half red half white baubles and other types of weighted lures. Some looked brand new while others were rusted, but they were all sharp. He imagined boobytrapping the home, catching 18 in various traps -- but his fantasy was short lived with the thought of her filleting him in return for his prank.
Shifting the tackle box to the side, his eyebrow raised. A brass colored rectangle with several knobs and a needle sized arrow leading to painted on white numbers that went in a full circle.
A radio... portable too.
His finger danced above the on button, hesitant to find out the answer. One he felt like he already knew.
Click
Ghostly static blasted him, as he adjusted the volume back down in a rush. He ran through the channels, each number from 40 to 96 just white noise. His searching started normally, listening in to nothing at first and then moving on, before becoming more manic, in hopes of something. Anything.
"What do we got back there?" He heard a shuffling, a clamping of headphones and the radio DJ's voice distancing. "Classical? Alright." His voice returned to normal, closer to the mic again. "We're playing some classical music folks, to keep your spirits up in these dark times. Coming up is Bachtoven's Minuet Presto, in G." He stood transfixed to the music, staring into the dial, as water moved in waves beneath him, echoing lightly in the shack.
Stuffing it under his arm, it was awkward against his side, jutting into his ribs, but inspiring him nontheless to want to keep it near him at all times. He turned towards the latched wooden door with the piano's comforting sounds tickling his sides and his heart as he traipsed up a narrow hill, a sense of determination on his features.
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Even on max volume, it was still distant, but he didn't even want to risk the chance of it breaking. Measuring the distance between him and the device, he then turned his focus back on his target.
It was the biggest and most healthy tree he could find, with the circumference of a sewer lid.
He almost wanted to apologize, as his hands traced the aged wood, each crease like a wrinkle in time. Floating off the ground, he rotated on the spot, his leg raised. Like nothing had happened, it sat for a moment, before it splintered under his striking foot, as he swung through it like a hot sawblade and butter. It heaved, tilting in place, before leaning down, but he pushed back on it, catching it with a single hand. He had a visible sneer, staring into his free hand which he turned into a fist. Things were getting back to normal for him.
He set his foot down, but instantly regret it, recoiling. It was like he had touched an electrical socket. He was still a little messed up... but his elation was shortlived however, realising that even with a year's time, he had only recovered half of what he lost, especially after he had been laid up so long -- and even if he did get back to full strength...
"You know it's pointless." She exclaimed out to him, from a lounging position on the beach chair. She looked like she was fast asleep with those dark sunglasses on, but still talked to him regardless. "Train all you like, you'll never be able to beat me."
Any sense of accomplishment flatlined. 'I'm not doing this for you, okay?' He said outloud in his mind. He got embarrassed in the same way he did whenever Bulma would watch Trunks train his students. As Bulma, even at her age, had been kinda like the girlfriend he could never have, even if she was more like the mom.
"No! Go ahead. I don't mind!" He ran through some drills. Trunks had called it the 'Style of Gohan', though he wasn't sure what that meant. Though one arm always seem downplayed. Preparing his good foot, his flying kick delivered a wave of energy that sliced through the base of several trees, stopping at the fifth row of them. 18 pointed with thrown casualness of her wrist off in a direction she didn't even commit to. "Would you do me a favor and destroy that tree for me? I could use more sun."
She hit his last nerve.
He stalked over, shadowing her. Yet him standing there, glowering, didn't seem to ruin her mood at all. Nowhere near a beach, yet she looked like the ultimate beach babe. Her smooth pink and pale skin wiped down with lotion, making her gleam with flawless application on her partially exposed body, with a subtle glimmer from underneath her armpits. Sprawled out in a red, white and blue bikini top that ran down in vertical stripes, the triangle shape barely holding in her massive tits. There were two white stars front and center, which was meant to signify her nipples, but to him, it was a warning about her giant set of balls. The bottom half was a solid bright red that glittered with an almost cheap plastic look, with strings that tied off in looped bunny ears onto her hips -- but worst of all, was how he could see her sleeping beast barely constrained, looking like it wanted to pop out and say 'hi' at the ridge that ran along her stomach. Her left leg was shunted forward, while the right was raised, her knee grazing the long armrest. A hand was hanging limply, like she had a cigarette between her fingers and was trying to keep the ash off herself.
"Ooooh, I love it when you get angry. You're just so impotent when you do." Her bubblegum lips had that smirk to them, lipbalmed and pressed together, they weren't plump, but they weren't thin either.
He threw his hands out in frustration. "Look, I can't concentrate with you here. What do you want from me?"
She pulled down her shades, her eyes almost predatory as she leered over them. "Nothing." They then went back up, as she stuffed her hands behind her head, leaving her elbows sticking out in two directions, one leg folded over the other.
Finding himself in a desperate crouch, he pleaded with her. "What can I do to make you leave?" She acted like she hadn't heard him, continuing her glazing. His hand lunged, tracing up her thigh, a slick, almost greasy feeling rubbing off as he did.
Then her glasses came off. "Now I'm listening." She stuck the right temple of her glasses past her plush looking lips, sucking on the plastic tip through gnashed teeth. "Mmmmm... what do I want to do with you today? Hmmmhmmm." Her laugh held in her throat. She gestured downward with her chin, glasses still being chewed, and he could see her powerful erection press and push, straining on the straps, as she tugged on them with just her erection, moving like a beating heart in her bikini. He reached for her hanging tassels, his hand hesitant, as he begun unlooping the ears - and it snapped suddenly, her cock flinging forward, but still covered. He could see a dark stain in the red, her precum keeping it from falling away completely. Soaked into her tip, he could smell her strong musk through the material as it hung on for dear life, which nearly made him gag.
Something about her thick cum sweating through the porous material had him... he didn't know what. They've had sex, yes - but he had never seen her as a sexual being before, but more as a sadist with hard-on. She touched the darkened, moist spot, playing with and rolling the substance through her fingers, before letting the strand fall back. "You have your work cut out for you."
He peeled it back by its strings, the banana falling from it's hammock with a meaty flop on her thigh -- but it quickly regained its strength, her boner like a bridge between them, greeting him at full attention; a downward triangle of whiter skin framed her pink hued prick, as her untanned trails fed off into single lines over the bones of her hips. He picked up her giant wedge of a boner presented to him, his two handed hold of it reminding him just how outclassed he was again, as a new smell of constrained ball sweat radiated from underneath where he had lifted it, nearly knocking him out it was so strong.
"You always seemed so shocked when you see it." It then looked like a lightbulb went off in her head. "Why don't you kiss it?" It was hard to see her face, his focus on her cock made her face seem blurry, but he could sense her smugness. "You'll get used to it once you get to know it."
He swallowed silently. 'Kiss you? I can hardly look at you.'
She took a full throated hold of the base of it and swung it forward, sending flecks of juice at his face. "Kiss. It." She restated, her voice slow and deliberate, looking like a psycho as she said it.
His neck jutted forward, lips puckered, as he landed them on her reddish slit - the slimy head spongy and watering his dry lips. "There. You happy?"
Eighteen didn't answer.
She instead took hold of his head, the surprise of which left his mouth open. "BLRGH - GLURK!" She jabbed it in at full mast, way past his defenses, she used his head as nothing more than her own personal socket. "GLUGH-GLUGH-GLUGH" Her rising hip action was intense -- too intense for him to handle. He was brought down to the base of her cock. Choking, he rapped against her thigh for air, gurgling all the while, as she looked nonplussed and even kinda bored.
It went on like this, as that meat lozenge of hers controlled his airways, making him lightheaded whenever she wanted. That vomitty feel permeated, and even a part of him wanted to do it - but a scarier idea was that she would continue regardless of him being sick. Eighteen was 'kind', however, as he was given allowance for air. He responded with a snarling snort as he acclimated to oxygen again. "BLOAUGH--guh." His chin a drooling mess of her cock juice and his spit.
Eighteen set her glasses down.
*plap* *plap* *plap*
She beat that moistened beast against his lips, as sticky webs connected and broke apart in rapid succession, an almost braindead response on his face, unable to do anything but accept the humiliation. Her mouth clicked. "Tch. Come on. Don't look at me like that, kid."
He was genuinely confused. "Look at you like what?"
"Don't pretend you don't love-" She waved it back and forth in his vision, his eyes tracking with wherever it went. "Sucking on this."
"I-I... don't." It might have been the bravest thing he had ever said to her.
"Then you must-" She reached down, and lifted up her sack, displaying a hidden glisten of her round orbs. "Prefer my balls."
He lowered, his brushing nose getting a whiff of her pungent semen factory -- the heat sweltering, yet inviting. His face met the loose and saggy skin, feeling her testicles up close and personal against his nostrils. He then sucked in one like it was a noodle, which was maybe a little too much for 18. "Ah ah ah, watch yourself." He relented, before motorboating those heavy stones instead, treating it like it were the pussy of a beautiful girl, slurping and tonguing the pair with his eyes closed. "You little ballsucker..." Eighteen seemed impressed, as her dainty hand and wrist looked like they could barely manage to stroke her sausage as she watched him go to town. "Oh yeah, open up that mouth of yours, because here comes momma." He did as she asked, eyes shut, tongue out, relieved he wouldn't have to-
"Hey, what-AGH!"
18 tossed him face first into the turf. His neck craned awkwardly, as he laid in his stupor, with some of the dead blades sticking to his spit covered face. He watched those dark sunglasses compress underneath her foot, before smashing into bits with a crackle; her stride unaffected. Stepping over matted grass that formed a frayed x spot, 18's cock swayed as she approached him, a plastic bottle in hand. She flicked her wrist, before aiming it downward, and made the tube squirt and splash all over her dick before she took a hard fisted hold of it, and spread it along her shaft, the sound of her skin squishing and squirming, turning the already shiny and pink prod into a beacon of light. "Take your pants off or I'll make a hole right through them."
He did as commanded, a threat he knew she was capable of delivering on, bringing his pants around his ankles as he covered his crotch.
He expected that slow but painful insertion like usual, but he should have figured this would happen, as she slid in with barely any prep. He winced, tapping out his suffering as she found herself residing entirely within him. "Hmmhmm. Already giving up? I haven't even started." Then he felt all of her inches leave him, only for them all to return in a plunging stab. Her lotion on the lining of his walls made entry/re-entry easy, as she delivered quaking drives into his ass, that felt like she was gonna slip and go sideways inside him with every squishing of his insides, which sounded scarily painful, so he did his best to not move her impact site, leaving himself an obvious target for her missile, but he could hardly stand the feeling. He collapsed several times throughout the ordeal, but Eighteen's powerful grip held him in place, even if he went slack like a sack of potatoes, she would still have him up and ready to take more punishment.
"Eighteen, stooOOoOoop! SloOOoooOw down!" He white knuckled grass, as his voice whined, reverberating up and down with every pump. Her tits bounced with bruising force against herself as she delivered pointed strikes, flapping in tandem together from the bikini top; a bead of sweat running down her rebounding bust. Her balls landed with fwoomping clatters against him, sticking a moment, before being ripped away. His penis wagged like a tail, hitting his stomach before slapping between his legs.
She picked him up with such speed that it caused him to tear up the grass he was holding by the roots. He was cradled by her, her hands under his kneecaps -- which was good for him because he couldn't stand anymore. With her tits at his back, he was exposed to beautiful greens and nature, a regret in him at the way he treated the trees seeing them all on their sides like that. His punishment came from being ramrodded from underneath. "Uuuuh-uh-uh-uuuuuh!" 18 only got faster and faster, which resulted in an uneasiness in his body that made him cling onto her wrists.
With him unable to see her, 18 lost her composure. Her body trembled. Her normally sturdy feet turned inward and awkward. "I can't stop! Your ass is too perfect! Gaaaaawd!" She made all sorts of unflattering faces, nearly biting her tongue off in the process. Her toes curled into the soil, as she brought his ass down into her groin for a final upward thrust. Eighteen shuddered, a look of relief, as she nearly went crosseyed for a second, before she shut them, leaning her face into his back. Her mighty squirts came briskly, before tapering off into laboured ekeing from her tip. Her cum sloshed his insides, and it felt like she was swelling him up as she refused to remove the cork that was her cock.
He hated when she did this, because if she did it for too long... it felt like it was in its natural place inside him -- and when she would finally take it out... he would feel empty without it.
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Late night with Eighteen.
Same time as usual.
Another session done.
Eighteen shot up. "Where are you going?" Her cleavage faced his way, nipples rolled into the sheets and her pert ass leaned to the side, an inviting display - he almost forgot about the thing between her legs.
He covered his shame as he walked out. "I'm not looking to get kicked in the side again." He stopped to check in on her, in case she had something different to say. She stared through him. Like she had a question but no words to go with it. It looked like something was being held back behind her eyes. There was a quiver in her lip, before her hair flicked in a slicing drape, turning in bed, a blanket pulled over her tits and then the rest of her.
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Halfway through Brix Falconeer's Heaven's Chimes, something went wrong. The DJ had cut the music, and his calm announcer demeanour fell away to absolute terror. "Oh my god, she's found the building! She's just above the studio, get everybody out-"
The transmission turned to horrible fuzzy scramble.
He sat and stared for a long time.
He didn't even blink. He couldn't even muster that energy.
"GOD-" His brain fried, but he quickly found the exact words for what he was feeling. "GOD FUCKING DAMN IT EIGHTEEN!" He raised the radio as far above his head as he could get it, before bringing it down against the ground, shattering it into what felt like thousands of pieces and sending its components flying everywhere.
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His Sister The Keeper