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Changing Times.	By : bloodyreign Category: Dragon Ball Z > Het - Male/Female Views: 1699 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Dragonball Z characters. I do not make any profits off of this. I do not own Dragonball Z in any way, nor do I own any of their characters. Standard disclaimer applied here.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Chichi, Burama and I sat at the table, talking. Finally, Chichi said in an excited voice, “Okay, are we ready? Should we get started?”

I smiled. “Yes!” I stood up, turned toward the cabinet. “One second.” I walked over quickly, opened the cabinet and pulled down three cookbooks. “My idea was that we could do a full-sized dinner! I mean, appetizer, first course, main course, beverage, and desert. What do you think?”

“Great idea!” Burama said, beaming. “Like a five-star restaurant.”

I nodded, going back to the table, carrying the giant stack of cookbooks. “Exactly!”

“So what’s for the appetizer?”

“I’m thinking a small salad,” I said, opening the cookbook. “Yea, just a salad, nothing special. First course should be. . . .”

Chichi smiled, looking over my shoulder. “Right there! Oyster stew!”

I nodded. “Okay, oyster stew. And main course?”

“I know this awesome recipe for fish,” Burama said, smiling. “But it would require white wine.”

Chichi hesitated. “Okay.”

“Beverage?” Burama asked.

My eyes instantly caught the perfect recipe. “Ooh! Spice Mocha frosted!”

Chichi nodded. “Yea, great!”

“Now for desert?”

“Strawberries in zinfandel wine.” Burama pointed at a place in the cookbook. “Right there.”

“Okay,” Chichi said, after reading it. “Sounds okay.”

“So . . . shall we get started?”

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Hours later. . . .

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I helped set up the table quietly, quickly, ignoring Gohan as much as I could. Which turned out to be impossible because he sat right next to me. Burama had hired someone to pass out the food and he quickly was passing out the first dish, the salad, and wine glasses half-full with sparkling champagne. Goku was the first person to bite into it and everyone watched him expectantly. He grinned and thumbed-up the meal, saying, “It’s good!” with a mouthful in.

I rolled my eyes and took a bite. It was a small dish, so it was finished off rather quickly. The next dish was passed out.

This time, Gohan, as everyone watched, took a bite. His eyes widened and a slight flush rolled into his cheeks. I was right next to him, so I could see it, but nobody else had. He nodded. “It’s good.” He fidgeted a bit, unnoticed by the others. They all dug in, myself included. A few bites into it, Gohan’s eyes closed and I could hear his heartbeat speed up, feel him tensing. There was a blush on his face that was very, very light. It didn’t seem to be from embarrassment.

I ignored him, eating in silence for a few minutes. Something touched my leg and I jumped just slightly, looking down. His hand was resting lightly on my leg. I looked up and met his eyes. There was a look in his eyes that made me blush. I focused on my food, ignoring his tightening hand on my leg.

Trunks’ eyes met mine and he looked as worried as I felt. I mouthed, Help me, and he nodded, cleared his throat. “Hey, Gohan, have you and your father talked about the plan to defeat Cell?”

Gohan looks up slightly. “No, not at all.”

“I told you all, don’t worry about it! We’re going to be okay!”

“But Goku, you don’t know that!” Kuririn said quickly. “Why can’t you tell us what your plan is?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t got a plan.”

Tien stared at him. “Goku. . . .”

“From what I’ve seen, Cell is pretty invincible.”

“There has to be a way!”

“I didn’t say we’d lose.”

“But you said-”

“Have faith.”

I smiled. I knew Goku’s plan. Fighting not to look toward Gohan, I sipped another spoonful of soup.

Trunks met my eyes again, frowning apologetically.

I smiled slightly. Gohan’s hand tightened, moving up slightly, making my pulse speed in fear. Vejita and Goku looked at me, as did Piccolo.

“Don’t worry, Story. You should know better than to think we’re going to lose,” Goku said.

“Losing your nerve, Story?” Vejita sneered.

Piccolo nodded toward me, very slightly. “With you here, Story, we have a bigger chance of winning than without you here.”

I smiled. That hadn’t been the source of my fear, but let them think that.

Chichi smiled back at me. “We should just enjoy the days we have left.”

I nodded. “Yes, you’re right, Chichi.”

Gohan’s eyes met Trunks’ eyes and for a second, their eyes held. Trunks nodded, looked away. For some reason, I had the feeling they’d just done some kind of male-Saiyan thing. I ignored them.

Everyone, debating on the Cell thing, had finished their food. Now the next dish, the main course, was being brought out. I didn’t like fish, so I was having another batch of salad. This time, Tien took the first bite and okayed it. It made me smile the way he did it. Winking at me, it made me laugh. The first course was finished off quite quickly, since everyone was debating on Cell, and the beverage was passed out next. Everyone watched in shock and anticipation as Vejita, this time, was the first one to sample the food. Aware of everyone’s eyes on him, he glared and said, “What are you looking at me for? Drink your own!”

Burama laughed. “That means it’s good!”

I picked it up, took a hesitant sip and let out a sigh. It was good.

Gohan drink and after the second drink, he seemed to become more aware of himself. He moved his hand away and the flush in his face seemed to die down. It made me relax with another sigh. He smiled at me. “It’s very good.”

I nodded. “Yes, it is.” This time, instead of waiting for everyone to finish their drinks, halfway through this course, the desert was brought out. I’d made some changes to the recipe. It was still strawberries in zinfandel wine, but now the strawberries were slightly crushed with some vanilla ice-cream in the mix. I took a bite first this time. I was looking forward to this one. It was good.

Gohan took a bite after I did, smiling. “I like it.”

Vejita was the third one to take a bite. He smiled very, very slightly.

Gohan reached for his glass. It was the first time during the whole dinner he’d done so. A small sip and his eyes widened. “What is this?”

“Champagne.”

“Gohan, don’t drink too much of that,” Chichi said quickly.

He nodded, taking another small sip. “I probably won’t.” He set the glass down.

I took a drink, too, but not a small one. I downed the drink quickly, one swallow, feeling the affect of the wine almost instantly. The guy Burama had hired came around quickly to refill it. I nodded. Everyone was smiling at me. It made me want to laugh, but I didn’t. I just realized that there was a lot of wine in this meal. No wonder Gohan had acted so strangely until the spiced mocha.

The dinner was finished off quickly and everyone moved into my living room to finish the debate and talk and relax. Within moments, Gohan had fallen asleep on the couch. Chiaozu and Tien were the first to leave. Goku and Chichi stayed longest. Chichi tried three times to awaken the demi-Saiyan, but he was dead to the world. Goku convinced her to leave him where he was, saying that he was out for the night. The wine had done that to him.

I took a deep breath once they were gone, glanced at Gohan and sank into the chair. I was looking forward to changing into comfortable clothes. My hair and make-up had been done--blame Burama--and I was wearing a white, long, thin dress and heels. I wanted to rest for just a moment before I changed. I closed my eyes, relaxing, staying still. There were no warning signs, no sounds, nothing, but there was just suddenly a pair of hands on me, a body settling atop mine, legs on either side of mine, hips held off me, but I was still trapped. My eyes opened and I met Gohan’s eyes a moment before his mouth was against mine, rough, quick. His hands moved up my arms to the straps of the dress. He toyed with them for a minute, then stood back up, smiling. My heart was in my throat as I shook my head at him. “No.”

He grabbed my arm, pulled me to my feet, smiling still. His eyes heated up as he looked me up and down and his hands came back to play with the straps again. He pushed them down my shoulders and off. The dress started to fall--

I grabbed it, holding it up and took a small step back, almost falling into the chair again. I shook my head again. “No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not right.”

He smiled. “We’ve already talked about that.” He reached toward me and grabbed the front of the dress, pulling it easily from my locked hands. For a moment, he held it up--then, with his eyes following it--he let it fall.

I clasped my arms over my chest, glaring at him. “No.”

His fingers curled around each of my wrists and he pulled my arms down, away from my chest and used my wrists to pull me into him. His arm went around my waist, holding me to him. “Forget the ‘right’ crap, Story. Who cares? It’s you and me. I’ve marked you as my mate which means that you and I are the only ones who are allowed to do this. Now if you slept with Trunks or anyone else, that wouldn’t be right.”

I pushed against his shoulders. “No. At least Trunks is closer to my age.”

Gohan growled. “Age! Is that all you care about?!”

“It definitely plays a factor in what I care about.”

I felt his hand at my back, moving up toward the bra strap. He carefully un-strapped it, then pulled it out from between us.

I struggled, pushing against him. “No, don’t.”

One arm still around my waist, his other hand moved down, lightly tracing the back of my body, coming to rest at the top of the panties. “From this angle, I can’t work them down and keep you immobile, but I don’t want to rip them. . .” A second passed, just a second, and I was being carried toward the bedroom door, bridal style. I didn’t remember him moving, let alone moving me. He hit the door with his shoulder and moved toward the bed without closing it. He set me down gently, then studied me, keeping me trapped in black eyes. He smiled. “I’ll be right back. Stay right here, do not move. If you move,” he leant down to whisper in my ear, “I’ll make you pay for it.” He straightened, smirked, then turned and walked out.

I jumped up instantly, running to my dresser to grab a shirt and jeans. I was pulling the jeans on when he came back in. His hands were full, but I took no notice of that. I quickly buttoned the jeans and backed away. “Hi.”

He smiled, threw the contents of his hands onto the bed, turned, closed and locked the door and turned back to me, walking toward me slowly. He backed me into the corner, stopping an inch before me. “I warned you.” He moved closer, hands moving up my sides. “First punishment. . . .” His hands tightened in the sides of the shirt and he yanked it off, eliciting a gasp from me. Then his hands moved lower, to the pants. “I said I didn’t want to rip them, but . . . no choice.” He curled his fingers into the pants, then jerked them apart. I was suddenly bare from the waist down as well.

My heart sped. I shook my head. “Wait, please-”

He shook his head at me. “No more waiting.” He lifted me up, into his arms and carried me back to the bed, setting me down. He quickly fastened each wrist to the headboard of the bed, then turned away to sift through the items on the bed.

I pulled at the ropes, shocked when they didn’t give. “What-what are these?”

“Ki-ropes,” he said, never faltering. “Made from my own Ki.”

Oh. That would explain why they wouldn’t break. I still pulled at them. There was a hissing sound, but I ignored it. I was looking up, straining to see the ropes, so when something cold, kind of wet and really sticky was settled on my breast, I gasped and my back--which had been arched--fell to the bed instantly. I looked down to see him carefully applying whipped cream on my body. I struggled. “H-hey! That’s cold!” My back arched, legs straining. “And sticky!”

He chuckled, but ignored my struggling, applying whipped cream on my other breast, then down, under each breast, down toward my belly button. Then he moved, applying it up the inside of each leg, stopped at mid-thigh. He set it aside.

I struggled, gasping. “It’s cold!”

He picked up the next item--chocolate syrup.

I glared at him. “No! That’s even more sticky!”

Ignoring me, he added the chocolate syrup to me, around the whipped cream. After that was finished, he picked up a small basket of the strawberries and flashed me a smile. “What do you think?”

I shook my head wildly. “Get this stuff off of me.”

He grinned. “I will. My way.”

“I’m sticky!”

That made him smirk. “Not as sticky as you will be.”

I blushed.

He picked up a strawberry and set it precariously atop the whipped cream on my breast and set a second one on my other breast.

“Gohan, it’s cold!”

“You won’t be for long.” He set the basket of strawberries carefully atop the night stand by the bed and move to settle himself carefully atop me, held off so he wouldn’t disturb the mess. He lowered down, just slightly, and licked at the whipped cream and chocolate at my breast. Long, languished licks, slow. He picked up the strawberry in his mouth and raised up to put the other end of the strawberry to my mouth. “Bite it,” he said around the strawberry.

I hesitated, but I bit into the strawberry. I didn’t see anything wrong with that. Besides, I loved strawberries. I took half the strawberry, he took the other half and his mouth was on mine a second later. He tasted like strawberry. He kissed me gently, quickly, then moved down to lick at the whipped cream and the chocolate. I squirmed when he licked through to my nipple and sucked it into his mouth. “G-Gohan.”

He sucked hard, fast, for just a moment, eyes closing as if he was enjoying doing that almost as much as he enjoyed the actual act of sex. He moved off that breast, toward the other one, licking the whipped cream and chocolate and picked the strawberry up in his mouth, bringing it up for me to bite it. This time, when he kissed me, he tasted like strawberry, whipped cream and chocolate. This kiss wasn’t’ gentle, but rough enough the he nipped at my lower lip and drew blood. One hand came up to grasp the hair at the nape of my neck, pulling down as he kissed me, making me gasp. He used that gasp to thrust his tongue into my mouth, exploring, tormenting my tongue with his, twining his tongue around mine, against mine. He pulled back, eyes heavy and dark with desire. He moved down, licking and sucking at the whipped cream, occasionally picking up a strawberry to rub it in the cream and chocolate and make me eat half of it.

I squirmed when he moved down to my legs, fighting subtly, but he gripped my ankle in his hand and sucked the cream and chocolate up. His mouth and tongue and teen worked against my legs roughly, sometimes drawing blood..

He did the same to the other leg. Once I was cleaned of the mess, but still sticky, he licked his lips clean and moved up, closing his mouth over my opening, thrusting his tongue deep into me. I squirmed again, struggling, and his hands clasped down around my hips, holding me steady. His teeth gently grazed me, gently nipping, and he sucked, hard, fast. Once more, that strong, heavy feeling settled into my abdomen, moving lower.

“Gohan, no, please--” I struggled, moving my hips, trying to get away from him.

He ignored the struggling, deepening the kiss, sucking harder, faster, and it spilled from me. I screamed, thrashed, but as long as his mouth work on me, it didn’t stop. Finally, he raised up. My body was slack, eyes closed, so I didn’t see him when he worked his clothes off. The next thing I knew, he was atop me, that part of him pushing against me, and I was still caught in the orgasm, still having little spasms, and he forced his way into me with a low groan. “God, you’re tightening around me. It feels amazing.” His hands came up to cup my breasts, kneading gently. “I love that.”

I pulled at the ropes, legs bending up at the knees. “Gohan, please, God.”

He moved against me gently, slowly, as if he was savoring the feel of it. “A few more days and this may not even be possible,” he murmured, “so I plan to enjoy this.”

I wiggled against him. “God, please.”

He dropped his body atop mine, brushing his chest across my breasts slowly. “I like that, too.” He moved slowly out of me, so slowly, until he was nearly spilling out. His body tensed and he shoved into me, fast, hard.

I screamed, thrashing, fighting against the ropes and him.

He did that twice more, then stopped. “Beg,” he said huskily.

I stared at him. “What?”

“Beg or I’m stopping.”

“Are you nuts--I’m not begging!”

He smirked. “Oh, yes you will.” He started pulling out very slowly. “Beg or I stop.”

“Gohan--why?”

“I want you begging.”

“Why?”

He chuckled. “Call it pride.” He pulled out slightly more.

I gasped. “Gohan-”

“Beg.”

“Please, please, Gohan.”

“More.”

“Please, Gohan, don’t stop, please, please.”

He sighed, body tightening. “Yes.” He pulled the rest of the way out, fully out, still pressed tight against me, then shoved in fast, hard, hands tightening on my hips. His hands let go of my hips and moved up. He places his hands flat on the bedspread, on either side of my head and he raised his upper body off mine, forcing his hips tighter against mine, and pulled out slowly. His eyes were closed and he threw his head back a second before he shoved back in.

I screamed and he hit the end of me, hard, so hard it was almost pain. I thrashed against the ropes and in that moment, pain was pleasure. “God, please, don’t stop.”

He withdrew slowly, so slowly. Right as he was about to spill out, he did three things at once. He dropped his body atop mine again, bit into my neck and thrust back in..

I screamed again, calling out his name, thrashing against his body, his strength. The thickness had begun to build inside me once again. I fought against it, trying to push it down, but the more I fought it, the faster it came.

He groaned, a deep, deep sound, and reached up and snapped the Ki-ropes and rolled until I was atop him. His hands went around my waist. “Move for me.”

I blushed, face heating up, heart pounding. I shook my head. “ I can’t.--oh, God, I can’t.”

He nodded. “Yes, you can. Come on, baby. You can do this. Follow my hands.” He lifted me up slightly, putting me down slowly. “Like that, come on, baby, you can do this.”

I shook my head wildly. “I can’t!”

“Yes, you can..” He guided my hips again, back and forth and up and down. “Like that, you can do it.”

He moved his hands away and I tried. For a moment, I did, but then I stopped. “I can’t.”

“Come on, baby, move.” He smiled. “Move with me, then.” He moved his hips under me, thrusting up. This angle made it sharper, deeper, made me sway, eyes closing.

“Oh, God,” I gasped. “I-I can’t-” I started to jumped off-

He grabbed me around my waist, pulled me back down and thrust up at the same time. It made me scream and he chuckled. “You can do this. Come on, move with me.”

Slowly, hesitantly, I started to move with him, against him, but where his pace was fast, rough and hard, mine was slow and hesitant.

His eyes were closed for a few minutes and when they opened, they locked on me.. A second later, he sat up. He grabbed my hands and pushed my backward, still inside me, and moved so that he was on his knees and I was flat on my back. He gripped my hips in his hands and withdrew quickly, then forced inside, hard, fast. The way he had it was sharper, deeper, than before and I screamed, struggling. I tried to sit up and he put one hand on my chest and pushed me back down.

“Gohan, please--I can’t--” I screamed when he thrust again, struggling, gripping the bed sheets in my hands tightly. “Oh, God.” His hips moved against mine, strong thrusts, fast, quick, hard. I kept making sounds, struggling, fighting---and then it burst again. The warmth spread through my body and bubbled into violent pleasure and I screamed. Halfway through that one, another hit, harder, I fought, struggling to get away.

He pulled out, completely, and moved me so that I was on my hands and knees in front of him. When he pushed into me, I was still having small spasms, still dancing, and he groaned, thrusting, hard, fast. A few minutes into it, he put his arm around my waist and pulled me up against his chest. One hand fisted in my hair and he pulled my neck into a long, clean line, biting down. The other hand moved up, gripping my breast in his hand. I fought against his body, gasping. Once more, he brought me and I felt him spilling himself deep inside me. I gasped. He held me tight against his body, hard, heart pounding against my back, and slowly lay us on our sides. His breath was coming fast and hard, heart pounding. “God,” he moaned. “God.”

I lay still, fighting myself. I was sticky, body and between my legs. When I managed to look down, there was the white stuff clinging to my legs, but there was also some blood.

His arm tightened around me and he turned me to face him. He was smiling. “How do you feel?” His voice was breathy.

I gasped, fighting to keep my eyes opened. “T-tired.”

He chuckled. “I’m not.”

“God, please--I’m tired.”

“I won’t do anything. Go on, go to sleep.”

I nodded tiredly. “Go-Gohan, will you do me a favor?”

“What is it?”

“M-my nightgown . . . I am cold.”

He cuddled me into his body. “I can keep you warm.”

“Please?”

He sighed. “Okay.” He pushed himself up, then moved away and shakily went to the armoire. He got my short, black, lacy silk nighty, smiled and brought it back. Before I could protest, he’d worked it onto my body. “There.” He lay beside me, grabbed the blankets and pulled them around us, pulling me into his body. “Now you can be sexy and warm.”

I cuddled against him, too tired to complain. The nightgown rode up and I could feel him right up against my entrance. My pulse sped.

He laughed. “I thought you were tired.”

“I am.”

His hand trailed down my leg and he brought my leg up over his waist, pushing himself right up against me. “I’m not.”

“Go-han . . . No, please.”

He pushed his hips against mine. “Why not?”

“It’s not-”

“Don’t give me that, ‘it’s not right’ crap!’” He pushed up, into me.

I was tight, and still sore. It made me scream. “Oh, God.”

“I’ll show you again just how right this is. . . .”
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Changing Times.