[ Himitsu ] | By : RenaSama Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 5513 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own DragonballZ, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Author: Rena "Sama" / 'the light'
Contact: soaringshadow@yahoo.com
Date Written: 7-20-05
Rated: NC-17
Notes: This fic is inspired by some artwork I'd done recenly, "Sunset Kink" There
is actually a lot of story behind that pic that you may, or may not have picked up on.
So here it is.
[ Chapter .06 ]
Needless to say we didn't make love, but I'll be damned if I didn't love the temporary peace it brought me.
See you on Sunday.
[ ..... ]
Again I find myself in this small, stifling hot place of worship. The same little old ladies in the their same
little old hats fanning their perspiring wrinkled brows with tattered "Jesus Saves" paper fans. The preacher shouts
at us from behind the oak podium about the seven deadly sins.
[ Only seven? ]
Chichi, siting to my right, glares daggers at me. Even through the oppressive heat, she still manages summon
up the same indignant, slightly mortified anger she felt days ago after my ... not so little stunt. My temporary catharsis
and bliss comes with a price. My new found sexual confidence dashed. I thought changing would be hard. But it wasn't.
The difficult part was not changing back. Back to the old me. The one that outside of the battle field had a surprising
lack of confidence. I can't remember the last time I felt so unsure of myself. I can't remember the last time I'd seen
her so angry. The veracity and longevity of her rage, and the fact that she walked so awkwardly the next day tells me I
was far rougher than I realize. I may have really hurt her, and at the time I barely even cared. I feel a strange, small,
nagging pain that I can only guess is guilt mingled with regret.
She looks at me with that wary sort of fear that you'd give a wild animal that might attack at any given moment.
We barely talk now, save for my occasional compliments to her cooking. We haven't even slept in the same room for days.
I've been banished from our bed until further notice. In a way I suppose I deserve it.
My innocent wife casts stones at me with her eyes* as I try to remember how many times she's yelled at
me about all this since then. How many blows to the head I've suffered with the aid of her favorite frying pan.
A pan she completely ruined in her own anger. How many times I wanted to sneak back into our room at night
and do things to her that might make even Bejiita blush. Or how many dreams I've had since then that I wish I could
forget. How many habits I have now that I wish I could break. Or how many times I've thought about... about...
Everyone stands up suddenly as the choir bursts into song. Since I haven't been paying attention
and thus missed the "song cue," the sudden singing is a bit jarring. The seemingly frail, old women around me
dance and shout and sing like they were thirty years younger. Like praising god was like rejuvenation. But ever time
I came here, I felt older.
Chichi tugs on my sleeve roughly to get me to stand as well and at least go through the motions of the
church going experience.* She and everyone else sways side to side in time with their clapping. I clap almost
robotically, not feeling at all invigorated by the light-hearted singing, but thankful for a break from the surprisingly
depressing Old Testament. I try my best to pick up the rhythm and the clapping, since I know none of the
songs. But I can't quite get it. I shift awkwardly trying not to look silly or embarrass my perpetually enraged,
puritan wife. But it seems I use my feet as well as I use something else.
It's sad how relieved I feel when the song ends and I can sit down and count the minutes until the
sermon is over. I know I'm supposed to be here to learn something, to feel something positive. But every thing I've
learned I didn't really want to know. I don't go home at night and pray to god for the strength to get through this,
nor the wisdom to understand the enigma that is my wife, nor for a way to mend our fragile relationship. No. Instead
I prayed that Bejiita would call me, so I could go and live vicariously through them. Maybe then I could imagine what
it's like to feel... wanted. Imagine what it's like to be Bejiita, just for a little while, to know what a joy it is to
be with a woman that actually likes what you do for her in bed. Or to be Bulma, and envision actually feeling
satisfied after sex.
[ Is that all? ]
To get a glimpse of what a happy, and for the most part stable relationship is, since it's so obvious
I have no idea what that is like.
I miss being ignorant.
I stare up at the worn, wooden clock behind the preacher's head. Just watching the red second hand
as it makes its rounds past the thick, black numbers. It's the same shade of red as Bulma's favorite Stilettoes. She
wears them sometimes, when she's feeling kinkier than usual. If that were possible. Maybe she'll wear them next time.
Hell, maybe Bejiita will wear them.
Heh.
1,247 seconds later the preacher finishes the ending prayer and we are allowed to leave. I stand up
from the pew, feeling as though I'd sat there for days. Chichi doesn't even look at me as we walk to the car. She
simply sits in the back seat. Not next to me in the passenger side like she usually does. I sit down, adjust the mirror
and put on my seat belt almost mechanically. I didn't need to. But I did it anyway. I guess it was just one more silly,
habit I developed over the years.
"Well? Hurry up and drive I want to get home and start dinner." She barks from the back seat.
Allowing her to yell at me was another.
"Yes dear."
[ ..... ]
There is the sound of skin hitting skin and a loud, slightly high pitched grunt as I walk into their room.
Bulma pulls her arm back then slaps the backside that is all but presented to her. A backside I'm just a
little too fond of for comfort. Her arm moves in the swift, practiced ease of a master in their element. Bejiita is
breathing heavily, naked and thrown over her knee like a disobedient child who is about to get his just desserts.
Bulma, who still managed to be somewhat clothed, rains slaps and spanks on his already reddened skin. Every time
her hand makes contact, he writhes in her lap, pushing his needy erection into her thigh ardently. Bulma spreads
her legs a little to settle some of his weight on the bed instead of her.
She's wearing the red Stilettoes after all. And as usual, Bejiita wears nothing but his skin. Wonderful.
SLAP!
"Oonh...!" he groans in the thick, throaty way he does so well.
She pauses between slaps every now and then to reach under his undulating hips for what throbbed between his legs.
"Uhnn!!" he shudders and moans and I throb with him as she stops pumping and pushes him off her lap to the bed. Apparently
she has other things in mind. Bejiita lies there expectantly, panting and trying not to push himself into the mattress and end
this too quickly. I sit next to him and watch as always.
Bulma, to my surprise, stands on the bed. Towering over us in her 3 inch heels and lacy bra. Looking down at us
over her nose, smirking devilishly as I'd seen Bejiita do on numerous occasions. He cracks one eye open and watches her walk
around him to the head of the bed. He continues to pant lightly and her smile widens.
"This might actually hurt a little."
She places her left foot just below his shoulder. Lightly at first, before she leans forward and puts all her weight on
him. The spike of her heel indents his skin as she walks across his back. "Aagh! UNnnh!" He yells and squirms under her as she
pushes the red heel into his shoulder blade. For a moment I'm so sure that this has crossed that subtle boundary of pleasure
into pain. But he proves me wrong as he moans and begins to push himself into the bed again.
Now, you may find it strange that Bejiita likes the mix of ecstacy and agony. That he would actually find being
spanked or paddled on the ass, let alone spikes and heels on his back arousing. That for him, pain actually brought on an
erection, instead of deterring it. But of all the kinky, strange things they did to each other, this is the only one that does
not really surprise me. As much punishment as I've seen him take in a fight and still get up. He would have to like a little pain.
Maybe I do too.
Bulma walks off him and kneels down beside him, kissing all the places and all the marks her rough love may have left behind. "Mmmh.." Bejiita lets out a long, gravely moan just before a loud yelp as Bulma slaps his backside again and laughs.
She spanks him with renewed vigor, alternating between kissing and nipping here and there until he's shuddering violently
against the bed. He lets out small choked gasps and the closest thing to a beg he's ever come.
"UUNh!!... B..Bu..l.ma... "
Bulma takes pity on him, or rather she decides to torment him in some other way. She grasps the firm, rounded flesh
of his ass and spreads him. "Un!!" I harden completely and my whole body flushes a light pink as I guess what will come next. I
chew my bottom lip and stifle a moan of my own when she reaches over Bejiita into the dresser drawer to retrieve her next
implement of torture. I expect to see her favorite pink vibrator. I can already hear its faint buzzing and that slick sound
it makes when she pushes it into Bejiita's body. But surprisingly, the object in her hand is not a vibrator. It's some sort
of oil. I can't quite read the words, it's in English... I think. She kneads his left buttock as she pops the cap off and pours it
right onto his exposed orifice.
"Gnnnh!" Bejiita growls as the last few drops dribble onto his perspiring skin. The oil smells divine. The uncertainty
of what she'll do next only makes me harder. I shift uncomfortably in my now too tight pants as Bejiita begins to writhe
impatiently.
OOhh! Hurry hurry! I can't stand it! I think to myself, biting my lip and waiting as if I were going to get some.
Bulma does not use her vibe, but her tongue instead. Bejiita's eyes snap open as he gasps in shock at the
unexpected sensation. I'm sure he too was anticipating Bulma's favorite toy. But of course, mouths have talents
that cannot be replaced by technology. Where the plastic phallus would stretch him and plunge into him without
mercy, she teases and strokes playfully with the tip of her tongue.
"Hnn.. UNknh..!!" he lets out a strange, guttural sound as his head falls back down to the bed. He gasps
open mouthed and fists the lavender sheets in his hands. Bulma reaches under him and grasps his testicles, rolling
them in her right hand gently. "Unnnh UNH!" Bejiita groans and quivers uncontrollably as he tries to push himself back
on her teasing tongue. She pushes the slick organ into him. As his eyes roll to the back of his head and a bestial
growl drips from his lips I know he won't last long.
"IInnhh!!" his moaning reaches a pitch I haven't heard in a while Bulma traces her nails around the remnants
of his tail. He shouts and bucks under her wildly, almost throwing her off. His eyebrows knit, and his teeth dig into his
lower lip as he fights to stay still. My erection aches for attention it will not get, as I bite my index finger in an
attempt to hold on to my sanity. Sweat drips down my brow and Bejiita's back arches when he can take no more
and he releases all over Bulma's hand. There's a climactic howl that sounded almost like a sob, then harsh breathing.
Bejiita collapses on the bed, trapping Bulma's hand under him as he gasps for air as if he were dying. Bulma manages
to pull her hand away, smearing some of his seed across his inner thigh and ass as she slaps him lightly on last time.
Bulma sits back and looks at the semen on her hand. As do I. Before she can wipe it away, I grab her hand
and lick it right off of her. Rolling my tongue between each finger.
[Why am I doing this? Is this wrong? Is this cheating? ]
I take two of her fingers in my mouth, shuddering and sucking audibly at the digits in case I missed some.
Oh god...how it tastes... The thoughts that come to mind now, I feel a bit uncomfortable telling you about.
So I simply won't.
She looks at me, surprised, worried and red-faced as I sweep my tongue over her index finger one
last time before letting out a heavy sigh and closing my eyes. I lean back against the pillows, exhausted, feeling
like I'd done something, when I'd done nothing. Well...maybe not nothing.
I lie back and catch my breath, seeing nothing but my own thoughts behind my closed eyes. Thoughts I
still have no intention of telling you about. Minutes pass as I finally calm down and my erection begins to fade.
I look up when I feel Bejiita shift and sit up on the bed. His eyes burning on me then switching to Bulma. The
strangest look on his face. He can he look so wound up after an orgasm like that?
"Kakarotto. I think it's time you went home..."
[ ..... ]
Bejiita was never known for being subtle.
It's quite obvious that perhaps I'm over staying my welcome a little. But I've grown to love it there.
Spending time with them. Getting to know them. Getting to see them in ways others never will. Learning and
seeing things I'd never have been exposed to otherwise. This is where I should be going every Sunday. This is
were I could go to learn or feel something positive. A place where I feel free. A place where I could avoid
my pissed wife. A place where I can forget the troubles I have at home. Forget myself.
I come to CC even more now. Despite Bejiita's occasional annoyance with my constant presence around
he and Bulma. Because I don't visit just when they're being naughty. Not just when I'm bored. Whether Bejiita
calls me or not. I know we've all be connecting, and our relationship has evolved to the point where I can consider
Bejiita my friend, but I guess his loner personality can be pushed so far. Perhaps I should give him some space.
So needless to say most of my time here, outside of their bedroom trysts, is spent with Bulma.
She shows me more and more of her strange, wondrous inventions. She even tries to explain them to
me so that I can really understand and appreciate her work. She doesn't talk down to me, or make me feel like
a fool for not knowing already. She is one of the very few women I know who's company I actually enjoy.
[ ..... ]
Weeks pass, and I spend more of my time here to the point where I wouldn't go home at all for days
at a time. Chichi barely seems to notice my absence. Goten is usually here with Trunks anyway, raising hell.
Bulma does not seem to mind the constant company at all, and I don't mind being around a woman that
didn't treat me like ignorant shit. Bulma actually makes me feel good about myself.
Being here was like a vacation from my life. A long vacation. Slowly I can feel my confidence
returning. C.C. is like a sanctuary. My breath of fresh air on a hot summer day.
[ ..... ]
It's half past noon. I walk around my second home's long winding hallways and corridors until I
locate Bulma's main lab. I open the door to find her working, but not on her inventions. I manage to arrive
just in time to see Bejiita smile and push his thick phallus against her pursed lips. He releases a breathy
little moan as she swallows him whole. She slurps loudly, then pulls back, letting her tongue tease the
underside of his erection. She drags his hips forward with the strength of her slow sucking.
"UNnnnnnnh.... hsss.. uh.. yea just like that..."
Bejiita pulls back and hold his shaft slightly away from her mouth. He rubs the wet, dripping tip
against her exposed tongue just so she'll pay more attention to it. She does that and more. Bejiita gasps,
and nearly loses his balance as he grabs the edge of the table to keep standing.
Bulma must be very good at what she does for Bejiita to stop by right in the middle of the day,
right when he'd normally be training, and she would be inventing, just for this. Everything gets put on hold
for this. For the feel of a warm, talented mouth around him. Bejiita trembles lightly and sucks in air through
his teeth. Growling hungrily, and pumping his lean hips towards her mouth in the achingly slow, almost
hedonistic way of making the slippery bliss that is Bulma's tongue last as long as possible. They've done
such outlandish things in bed, so the act of getting and giving head should be nothing new to either of
them. But when you watch Bulma go to work on Bejiita, he always responded like it was still something
new, still something special, even after all this time. It's ironic that the simplest sexual acts are often
the most pleasurable.
I find it so very refreshing to see a woman go out of her way to pleasure someone else, as
opposed to what I had to endure with Chichi's rather self absorbed view of sex, where I do all the work
and she lies there and complains. My erection howls for contact as I think bitterly of the lack of
blowjobs in my life. But if I can't have one at least I get to watch.
But watching is as arousing as it is frustrating. I begin to salivate and I run my tongue along
the roof of my mouth. I'm not sure why I did that, but it makes my painful hard on and the precum
staining the front of my pants just a little easier to bear. I let out a low, barely audible moan and I
chew on my tongue as Bejiita weaves his fingers through Bulma's hair. He whispers disgusting and oh
so arousing things to her as she sucks him hard.
It's absolute torture to watch him come. The face he has at orgasm makes me ache. His enraptured
shout is painful to hear, but music to my ears at the same time. Living vicariously through someone can be
both a blessing and a curse.
Afterwards, Bejiita tucks himself back into his pants and slowly walks past me and out of the lab.
He drifts through the doorway and down the corridor in a strange, drunken haze. A far away and delirious
expression on his face. Wow...
I look at Bulma completely stunned as I walk over to her.
"I love being the only person that can make him look like that." She smiles proudly with his seed
spattered all around her mouth. I just smile as she trails her finger through the milky substance and
pushes it against my lips. I get much closer than I should have when I lean against her. What's left
of my erection lies against her stomach as I suck what should be called the eighth deadly sin from her skin.
"Mmmh..."
Continued.
A/N
1. My innocent wife casts stones at me with her eyes:
This is supposed to be a little allusion to the biblical quote: "Let (s)he who is without sin cast the first stone."
since aside from being a prudish bitch, Chichi really is pretty guilt and sin free.
2. Go through the motions of the church going experience:
I decided that the church Chichi and Gokuu attend would be a small, old, predominantly black Baptist church
since that's the kind of church I went to as a child. ^^
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