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The Morning After	By : c0p13r Category: Dragon Ball Z > Het - Male/Female Views: 2413 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own 'DBZ' nor do I make money off this fic.

Chapter List
- 1-The Morning After
- 1
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            There was the evening first. Neither could sleep that night, the night before all their planning, machinations, science and hope was put to the test. He sat at the kitchen table, and she walked in on him intending to sit in silence herself. Her only child, hope for the past and future, scion of Planet Vegeta and its royal bloodline as well as the heir to the once-thriving Capsule Corp. Small talk ensued, though nothing livened their spirits or set their hearts to rest… She stood behind his seat and hugged him to her sternum. He felt the weight of her breasts atop his head and tried his best to ignore it.
            It was her who tilted his face to kiss him; once as a mother to the corner of his mouth, followed up by a desperate, fearful and needy woman to the lips. He wrote it off as a mistake until he felt her tongue trace the line of his pursed lips. Fervently, he kissed back. Virgin, he’d taken survival and training too seriously. She, on the other hand, had been celibate for too long, and perhaps she might never see this young man again.
            His cock appeared, turgid and already dripping. Appeared for a moment, and was down her mouth the next. The skill that had been honed on a host of men before – including his father – was put on for him. She was so good at it, even though out of practice! He warned her, a quiet and hard whisper in the dark of their ruined dome. She abandoned him before he reached the peak.
            Her pajama bottoms came down, her top unbuttoned only. Grandma and Grandpa were long gone… No one to witness. She straddled her boy, righted his prick, and nuzzled her blue-haired cleft before finding the spot to usher him through. He thought for sure he was finished, but he persevered that virginity-claiming descent. Her walls hadn’t been breeched by more breadth than two fingers, and Sayians were well-equipped after puberty; before puberty – which could sometimes last until after fourteen – they were mild to small.
            His balls sweated in his pants. He reached underneath his riding mother to bring them out. It was dark, but he saw her flash a smile before crushing her hips down on him, smothering his sac underneath her butt, grinding until he gave out a sharp grunt. He double-handed her ass, plush and soft mounds in his grasp. He had known the rest of her intimately in his infancy; he meant to meet the rest of her as a man grown.
            At some point, they’d made it to her bed. Carrying someone of her weight didn’t faze him as it would a regular human. Floating, bearing her weight, he wouldn’t even realize he was drifting until they switched positions. She confessed she liked it on all fours, and he took her and finished her in such a way, pounding his long, thick cock up her cunt in wet runs until his sinewy legs buckled and he had to check his strength when clasping her waist. “I’ll be back, Mom,” he told her right before putting a promise inside of her, a new hope for the future that she received amongst a series of spasms, gasps and backward thrusts.
            At least they went down, and their eyes closed, and they were able to sleep. And before he left, she gave him one last kiss, one that strung spit between their mouths.
            The next time with her might have been a dream. She was so much younger, and the threat had grown nightmarish, and he could see himself asleep as a baby in a crib. He and she spoke quietly while whimsically appreciating the baby’s silence. Then they were silent. Then she touched his shoulder with a leaning head. He smelled her… really smelled her. The familiar scent of strawberries… but younger… ripe for breeding…
            Sayian instinct was hard to suppress. His hand was atop her bosom before he knew to stop it, and he only could apologize when she flinched away, tucking the offended breast behind both hands. He professed his regret, and she listened with merciful calmness – he knew too well that she could run her mouth loud, long and fast – before a cheeky smirk overturned her lengthy straight face. She put out a jibe at him, one to make him flush quick and hard, and took her top off next. Her naked breasts looked larger than they will – or might – be. Sustaining a baby made them swell, her pink nipples enlarged. Baby fed not long ago, though; there was little to nothing to spill out. Sayian babies – even half-Sayians – demanded thorough feeding.
            She went down to her knees, enthused and hasty to see what was beyond his tight spandex. He was hard already and burst out once she pulled down the hem. She was impressed, cradling him with both hands first before descending her mouth on him. His hands fisted at his sides as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He wasn’t going to cum quickly this time. Like battle, a Sayian only gets better with practice.
            And though her tongue and lips and mouth insisted that he stay seated, that she was willing to see him through this erection, he turned her onto her back and drew her pants and underwear down. Her underwear, he noticed, was a more provocative choice. To seduce Father? Or someone else? Boldly with eyebrows furrowed and a cockiness that matched his dad’s, she asked if he liked them. His answer was to slide between her legs and put his cock where it was warm, wet, and waxed. No privilege in the future where androids ran rampant. In this time, she took advantage of luxuries. Her little nub folded inward when he sunk into her. She might not have been as tight as his first time, but he could tell that she was wanting a man to take root inside of her. He obliged with a near-feral growl, shoving his length fully to her quim.
            As his baby self snoozed soundly in his crib, he took his mom frantically on the floor, and all the while, she encouraged him, spurring him with filthy words that she might not utter in her golden years. She was a bad mom, apparently, but wanted the best for her little boy. Oh, little wasn’t the right word. So big. She needed this since his father was obsessed with training. Not since giving birth to him had he touched her, but her boy would.
            One hand planted next to her, he hoisted her by her backside and rolled her into his primal thrusts. He shoved a tit into his mouth – the one he had touched to set this strange taboo in motion – and licked at it, tasting the last feeding faintly on her sensitive nipple. She told him to go harder, and he did. Faster, and he did. Not inside, and he did. He yanked out in time, surrounded by his fist, and his spurts reached across her body. She laughed victoriously when one faithful burst got on her lulling tongue; a bull’s-eye amongst a flurry of haphazard and copious shots.
            “I’ll need a shower before you get hungry again,” she teased and winked, holding her hands near the sticky white mess dripping down her cheeks, chin, chest and tits, though she did play a little, leering at him like some erotic porn model, drawing pasty circles across her mounds while her son tried to catch his breath.
            His dad caught them practically right after. She held her ground with a silent, blushing glower while the son hoped to find the words to explain. Instead of furious outrage, the Sayian Prince merely huffed, turned away from the incest made, and enlightened them that a Sayian is restless in times of peace before fierce battle.
            It felt like Father had given him his blessing. The nightmare passed, the dream gone, and the future saved, the threats blasted to less than atoms. The world was brought to its new future, which did not include cowering in fear and rubble. There were women to choose from, but he was drawn to her instead. She was proud of him, too much for words to describe. She ruffled and stroked his hair, acting like a mother rather than the woman who took his virginity. She acted like the night never happened, and she wouldn’t know what happened in the dream unless he told her.
            Her breasts were lower and softer when he took hold of them. She had set the teapot to boil, the best kind of celebration they could muster. He had other plans, even when she tried to escape… as if she hadn’t been the first to kiss him. He met her younger self, he knew how quickly she could turn. And so she did, giving a sigh of admission as she surrendered her oil-stained jumpsuit and then her faded t-shirt. He took care of the sports bra – the only type she had left – freeing her tits for his feisty mouth.
            Father said Sayians were restless before combat; maybe it was his human side that made him revel in the victory afterward. He sucked one pink bud into his mouth while her slim fingers combed his lavender locks. She soothed him with motherly words, none of the filth of her younger, spryer self. He almost let slip that he had taken her back then, to return the favor of sharing dirty talk.
            She gasped at him when he steered her away from the stove and its open flame to lean on the safer support of the table. She gripped the table’s edge, trembling as her son relieved her of her sweatpants. Underwear, far more modest now… He took them off too and approached her blue mound with his cockhead. Her pink lips were plump and slick, but yielded to the shove of his blunt tip. She shivered. His advance pried her open halfway before retreating. No second thoughts; he chose to swap her position, set her on tabletop and split her legs with his hips before returning to her burrow. They both watched him sink in. She shuddered again, and this time, with a half smile, she said it seemed bigger. He slunk in the rest of the way and gave them both a moment to collect themselves. Her walls coiled around his stiff muscle.
            He was wearing the Sayian outfit brought from the past. He meant to deliver the message to every corner of the world that they were saved; a Sayian promoting the end of conflict and the start of peace, it was a turn for the legacy. Her fingers linked around the shoulder straps, her face burying in the crook of his neck. “Like your father,” he heard her whisper.
            Was she fantasizing, replacing him with his father, or reminiscing of lost times? He urged her to look at him, eyes meeting. His father didn’t have blue eyes; he wanted her to know and always remember it was him inside of her as he began to fuck her; not an act of love but lusty need. He fucked her as he would any other girl – if he could ever wean off of his mother’s comfortable snatch. She moaned and grabbed at him, calling him by name once or twice.
            She would remember.
            Her legs folded behind his waist, cradling his thrusts into her. Though most noises she made with soft, unintelligible moans and grunts, sometimes his name would make it through, or she’d even let slip a “Fuck me.” He gave it to her nice and fast before flipping her around. She opened her thighs, facing away from him, just feeling him push around at her loins before going into her again. He was louder this time, grunting out as he pushed to her cervical wall with each lunge. The broken Capsule Corp. was a beacon of help to people nearby, which attracted the usual passersby. If that Lime girl wandered in from the mountain pass with apples to trade for technological help, he wouldn’t mind letting her see how close he had become with his mom. Nothing would stop him from shoving into her again and again. Androids were gone, so he could fuck her whenever he wished!
            Was his seed from last time still inside her? If not, he added a new coating to her womb. She slumped with a heavy breath, reveling in the shocks of warmth gushing into her again. She had already peaked when he slid into her from behind; she was glad to let him finish too. But she underestimated him. His cock stayed rigid and began to plummet through his own puddle. How long had it been since she had been taken twice in a row? His father always used her more as a relief of tension, even when he withdrew still hard. He wasn’t on her schedule, he would tell her when she offered her mouth to finish him. Weak, he would say often. Not their son, though. He kept pounding hard until the sticky suction began to spurt around the inward shoves.
            She came faster this time, feeling his thrusts salving his semen across every wall of her insides. She screwed her eyes shut, whimpering as she squirted – also something she had not done in too long. As she squealed, he pumped harder and faster, going past what her mature body could manage. He exhaled loudly, a spray of sweat leaping from his face. He yanked out of her, directed her by her shoulder to go down to her knees. She followed breathlessly and expertly opened her mouth, knowing what was to follow. Sure enough, he began to ejaculate, aiming intentionally at her face and particularly her opened mouth. She collected the cum, her tongue flexing. Sayian semen had such a strong flavor, but unlike for his dad, she swallowed what was put in her mouth.
            She was under a dripping mask of white when he ended his second orgasm. When the spasms dwindled so that he’d only spill over with droplets, he wiped his slit clean against the untouched tip of her nose. With only one eye able to open – partially at least – she gleamed up at him.
            “Is this the start of something, Trunks?” she said to him.
            Trunks just gave her a small smile – “Yeah, Mom. It is.” – and carefully dipped his covered cock into her mouth to be cleaned, and Bulma obliged.
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The Morning After