[ Himitsu ]
folder
Dragon Ball Z › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
20
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5,734
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Category:
Dragon Ball Z › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
20
Views:
5,734
Reviews:
95
Recommended:
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.
[Chapter .08]
Himitsu
Author: Rena \"Sama\" / \'the light\'
Contact: soaringshadow@yahoo.com
Date Posted: 8-20-05
Rated: NC-17
Warnings: kink, fetish, very lemony, het, yaoi, steamy, language. Enjoy ^^
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just using the characters for my own amusement. So don\'t sue!
| ...words... | denotes thought.
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 .08 ]
our chuckles rise to almost hysterical laughter. I laugh at the situation. At him. And most importantly, at myself.
We laugh at each other. He holds his ribs, and I cup my cheek. Still laughing, feeling like shit. Horny shit. How
silly we must look.
I say nothing.
desire to do so go away. It would be wrong to jeopardize our friendship, their relationship, or my marriage just for ...that....
And frankly neither Bulma no Bejiita are keen on sharing what they believe is theirs.
subtly pointed out. So I want him too. Hm. All things considered, it\'s not as big a surprise as one would think. And maybe,
somewhere in the back of his sinister, perverted and so called evil little mind, he wants me too. Perhaps we\'ve both reached
an epiphany today, something we both knew but never said. Dark, sexual thoughts lurking, swirling in the sea of our
subconscious.
him, them, and badly, does not help or benefit my life in any way. It doesn\'t lift a heavy burden off my shoulders, doesn\'t show
me the one sure fire way to fix my marriage. It certainly does not answer all the questions of the universe. I do not feel sated,
or sane, or satisfied. Quite the opposite actually. And what\'s worse, he\'ll never let me watch again. Do I even want to?
I don\'t think I could take watching them and keep myself from thoughts of participation.
fascination, only brings me more problems. All it does is open the floodgates to what I had so obviously been repressing
since this whole thing began.
making me look at him.
is to move when you\'re hard. He stares pointedly at my erection and smirks, which only makes it harder. Still holding his
ribs with his one good arm, he sits on the ground in the crater the impact of his small body had made. I hold out the bean in my
hand and he lifts his arm in an attempt to take it. He winces and blood begins to seep from a wound on his shoulder.
The movement only makes his broken ribs hurt more, and he is seized by a fit of raspy coughs. As much of a masochist as he
can be, inflicting pain on himself doesn\'t have the same effect. Does that make me special? He puts his arm back down, tilts
his head back and opens his mouth expectantly.
a disgusting little thought at the sight of his open mouth. It would be so easy to just slip it in. Through his lips, just past his small
pink tongue, across the ridges at the roof of his mouth...
Too easy.
Too tempting.
And he knows it.
Little shit.
of my index finger. His eyes never leave mine the entire time. \"Un...\" I feel his teeth scrape lightly against my skin
and a small sound escapes me even as I try to hold it back. A strange tremor dances through me and I pull my hand
away from his mouth suddenly. Like he burned. Which he did. He always did. My finger slips out with a small wet sound
and I blink rapidly as sweat rolls down my forehead and into my eyes.
too much dust and sand, not enough air to breathe. I back away from him, having the hardest of times getting oxygen into
my lungs, trembling like I was cold or afraid. I retreat slowly, looking down at the ground and avoiding his eyes as he stands,
healed now, and no less erect.
because I knew when I did scratch, the aggravation would only spread and get worse. I\'m sure of it.
[ ..... ]
back of my neck. Small birds chirp in the trees near my house, and I realize I can\'t remember the last time I\'d felt so at peace.
not visit. I did not see either of them at all. I stayed home, puttered about, ate and slept and trained with Goten. I did all the
silly mundane things a man who wanted escape did. I did what people that did not want to deal with the harsh realities of the
world and of their own minds did to pass the time. Like I needed a vacation from my own life. In my mountain home I did not
need to see them. Him. Thus there were no awkward moments to have to worry about. No urges to resist, nothing to tempt me,
nothing new to shake up the nice boring, easy little life I\'d taken for granted. I could stay here and rebuild the shambles that
had become of my marriage, spend the time with Goten that my seven years of death had taken from me.
the doldrums of everyday living. But I got much more than I bargained for, and then ended up going through great lengths to
avoid them. So home I stay. Nothing new or exciting. Safe. Monogamous. My old sanctuary made new again. I was lucky to have it.
I love baths. I love water.
from the late summer heat.
a smile.
[ ..... ]
have known better...
need to know that. Seeing her again did not help my state of mind in the least. As I begin undressing her with my eyes, it becomes
that much more obvious that it was a mistake coming here. Yearly reunion picnic party or not. How could I forget?! A mistake. They
would be here.
began, I\'ve become acutely aware of where he is at all times. Even when I was not near him, I was still watching him. But in a
way, I too am now under observation.
between my teeth.
like so much time passes between our meetings. \"How\'s Marron chan?\" I ask spooning another helping of salad. Krillin fills me in
about all the goings on of his life in the past few months and again I can feel his eyes on me. Even while mingling with my friends,
eating the plentiful and delicious grilled meat and potato salad. Whether I\'m laughing with my son or watching the clouds as
the day and party go by. They are there watching. We do not say a word to one another. I do my best not to look at him, or Bulma.
Keeping my thoughts in check as not to horribly embarrass myself by pitching a tent. But every now and then, I look up at the wrong
time, turn my head a few seconds earlier than I should have, and there they are. Bulma and her beautiful, piercing blue eyes, feasting
on my face and body like the piece of chocolate cake her diet dictated she could not eat. Bulma\'s glances are fleeting and just a little
shy, yet they still manage to burn my skin with her unvoiced need. A strange mix. Innocently erotic, that\'s what her stares are.
And Bejiita... well he is a whole different story.
he knew all about me. Like he\'d seen me naked and vulnerable when he hadn\'t. Not literally anyway. But his hard stares always
turn into what could be called admiring ones. Always with that little smirk of his. All of which serve to make me feel flattered, unnerved
and undeniably aroused. I\'m not sure if he really and truly did share my attraction... or if he was just being the bastard he tended to be.
But I don\'t think his eyes ever left me. Not once today.
by Bulma and especially not by him. It\'s all so new to me, strange, welcome and unwelcome at the same time. It was a turn on
like you wouldn\'t believe. It\'s funny how outside of the bedroom how closely they watched me. Like the entire situation was
reversed. I was the one under inspection. My every move monitored like they were pleasantly titillating or exciting. My every word,
and every breath noticed or observed.
them is all it takes and my previously undersexed, underappreciated body screams for their touch. Or at least a touch. A touch
from the one that made me feel this way. His touch. Her touch. I wasn\'t sure which.
Bejiita...? Finally he comes out in the open and grabs something to eat. I force myself to look at him, on the rare moment he was no staring
right back at me. As I watch the red and gold of the setting sun kiss his face before it sinks below the horizon, I think back to their many
trysts where he wore his skin and nothing else; to the way that skin covers the taught muscles of a compact, battle sculpted body; to how he
looks when his eyes roll to the back oh his head as he moans Bulma\'s name...
physical attraction to him. I suppose he is...
directly at me as if I\'d called him. Then he just smiles. A strange enigmatic smile. Bulma steals another coy glance at me over Yamucha\'s
shoulder as he \'regales\' her of one of his tales of past heroism. Their combined stares make the hair on the back of neck stand on end.
[ ..... ]
is in place. But I do not feel at ease. I shift against the metal tub uncomfortably, feeling a gaze pricking my skin. I close my eyes, thinking it\'s
nothing when I hear a rustling in the trees. I look up towards the tall oaks to see the birds flying away. Did something startle them?
Was it just the wind?
ebony hair. He just leans his arms over the other side of the tub. His elbow resting on the metal rim, his chin resting against his fist
as he swirls the cool water with one finger of his outstretched hand. His head cocked to the side, a lazy sort of grin on his face as he
stares pointedly at me.
from behind and she nuzzles my neck.
on the fisherman\'s hook. Trying to stand to get out, Bulma keeps me sitting with surprising strength. \"Ah ah ah!\" she says into my ear. \"You\'re not
going anywhere,\" she whispers as she presses her lips to my neck and sucks on the skin there. \"Unn...NNnnH\" I shudder violently as I groan,
surprised at the sound of my own pleasure. Had it been soon long since I\'ve heard it?
arm dips below the surface of the water to reach for me. \"INH!.. Mmh!\" I bite my lip as he strokes me, whimpering pathetically
as I still struggle to get away even as I push myself into his warm hand. He simply smirks. He\'s always smirking.
above the surface. I reach for them but they do not help me. Bubbles are everywhere as I strain to get to the surface that suddenly seems
so far away. My vision begins to blur, everything is hazy...
disheveled and her clothes stick to her body.
[ ..... ]
So here I am again, just outside their window, thinking I can watch them without being seen. The very definition
of insanity. Thinking I can do the same things and get different results. But it\'s not the same, watching them
from afar, compared to being right there with them.
me what I was waiting for. Against my better judgement, I IT in.
her, slow and rough. With the angry sort of lethargy as though each thrust was going to be his last. His head is down
between his shoulders, and his stomach muscles bunch and quiver as he pumps his hips in the slow, careless, reckless,
delirious abandon of someone who so desperately needed release. Just the feeling of thrusting into a warm body
and the sensation of being thrust into. Bulma grabs at the headboard of their huge bed as her face twists in
ecstasy and just a little bit of pain.
throat. Bejiita rides her hard and bruises the underside of her thighs with his hands. Bulma\'s head thrashes from side to
side in the pillow under it. Her hair sticking to her lips and sweaty brow.
a bit faster. Her head still on the pillow as she arcs her back like a bow to meet his thrusts.
anger. Strange combination. It sounds very familiar.
kink. No teasing. No spanking or S&M. Nothing outlandish or strange. All the pretense and fetish aside. Almost like when
they made love. But this wasn\'t lovemaking. No tenderness or kissing.
arousal is a slower process for me, building to a peak like foreplay before sex. But this time, it just hits me all at once.
My vision distorts for just a moment, and my head spins. When I next become aware, I\'m lying on the bed next to Bulma
just watching her scream, and pant under him. Watching Bejiita\'s thick phallus disappear and reappear into her thatch of dark
blue hair. Darker than the hair on her head. She slowly opens her eyes and looks at me. Her half lidded baby blues are full
of feverish arousal, want, and worry. Bejiita gives her a particularly passionate thrust and she cries out in pleasure, squeezing
her eyes shut tight. Her mouth agape as she squeals under him. Bejiita steals her attention away from me as always.
I look over at him. He shudders and shouts and groans. Sweat runs down the hard contours of his abdomen and his head lolls
form side to side as he fucks her into the bed.
mixed with need. A very strange expression. He forbade me from coming here. From watching, and most definitely from
taking part in anything they did in this bed. But here I am.
but I don\'t know why.]
of your ability to speak? I try anyway. Sitting up, my painful erection brushing against his knee as I do so. Which does
not help matters at all. I put a hand on his arm imploringly.
me the strangest look. Because I don\'t think he knew what I was really asking. Or maybe he knew all too well.
from the force of his powerful thrusts. The heat between my legs throbs painfully. I should stop begging and leave. Leave and
not come back. But I can\'t will myself to get off this bed.
of slippery moisture and suction and collapses in a sweaty panting heap next to his beautiful, blue haired woman. Lying on their
backs, heads turned towards each other, gasping for air, covered in sweat and various other fluids.
He looks down at the need between my legs and quickly looks away.
Continued.