Here's my second submission for the Vegebul Smutfest.
This is for "Day 2: Masturbation".
I hope you like it!
*** Just as I did with my first submission, I've censored the lemons included in the story. Even if you read the censored version I believe you can still enjoy it. If you want to read the uncensored version AND you're old enough to do so, you can find it on AO3, posted under my username "SarahW" ***
Some people were born to suffer, that's for sure, and as Vegeta stood in the dark, inside the massive walk-in kitchen closet of the Briefs house, he was really starting to get the feeling that he was one of them…
Sure, he was the Prince of a dead race that had lost everything by the time he was five fucking years old. Well, of course he'd been raised by a tyrant that had made him his bitch throughout his entire goddamned life as he'd patiently abided until the time came to send him to Hell, only to have a stupid third-class clown do the job before he was ready for it.
He'd always known on some level that his life had been a doomed cosmic joke from the start, but this, having to listen to the woman and his useless Earth lover as they were fucking in the kitchen, this was intolerable. Honestly, he'd rather walk in on Frieza in the shower.
And yet there he was, standing inside the closet, his back against the wall, arms crossed, and his right eye twitching rhythmically in frustration as he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to find a good enough reason not to blow up the entire planet at that very moment. And as he listened to the two lovebirds interact with each other, he was finding less and less reasons to live…
And the worst part was that they weren't even fucking. Seriously, if the asshole had at least given the woman a good pussy pounding, Vegeta might have even had a newfound respect for the guy, but based on the night's events, that didn't seem to be the case, and there was nothing in this world that infuriated the Prince more than blatant incompetence.
He truly didn't know how it all started. It had been just another night, one of those hot summer nights that made deep sleep impossible as he tossed and turned amongst sweaty cotton sheets, so he'd done what he usually did under such circumstances: make a little trip to the large kitchen and help himself to a late-night snack.
That night had been no different really, other than the fact that just as he'd entered the giant closet where the Briefs family stored their food, looking for something to appease his generous Saiyan appetite, he'd heard voices and footsteps approaching. He quickly recognized them as those belonging to Bulma and Scarface, and not in the mood to deal with their lovey-dovey crap, he'd chosen to remain inside the dark storage room, waiting for them to leave.
It turned out to be a bad idea.
A very bad idea.
He'd thought those two would simply grab something to eat and go back to the woman's room, but apparently, the heiress had other plans…
"Awww… Come on, Yamcha! It will be fun…" She enthusiastically said.
"Sssshhh… B.! Just be quiet!" The man whispered.
"Don't be like that… Come on! There's no one here! Besides, my parents are literally on the other side of the compound…"
He heard the human man clear his throat.
"What about Vegeta?"
"Who gives a shit? He's not here! Come here…"
There was silence, and for a moment he thought that maybe they'd finally decided to abandon the kitchen, perhaps they were already in the garden, which would allow him to grab a few cans of food and get the hell out of there.
Not a fucking chance.
As he quietly approached the almost closed door, he peeped through the small space available and he saw what those two were up to.
Kissing.
Kind of.
Bulma was standing near the large kitchen table, Yamcha right in front of her, and she was playfully getting closer to him, literally grabbing the man by his shirt, smashing her lips against his. The man responded quickly, eager but slightly clumsy, and they shared a passionate kiss in the middle of the room. The woman's girly giggles stirred some unknown and very uncomfortable feeling inside the Prince's chest, but he tried to let it go as he kept watching the scene…
The heiress seductively walked backwards, dragging her lover with her, until her pert little ass touched the table and, without a second thought, she hopped on top of it, tilting her head back and spreading her legs wide open as her arms stretched towards her boyfriend.
The Saiyan warrior recognized that body language immediately.
She was needy, and definitely offering herself to the lucky bastard she'd been dating for years now. She was all long legs and creamy skin, and the red dress she was wearing, indecently short and tight, only accentuated her petite but curvy figure, her tits begging to be released from their constricting prison. When Yamcha finally walked towards her and kissed her again, the alien realized he was going to have to stay inside that damn closet for a really long time.
And he did.
But not exactly for the reasons he'd had in mind at first.
Apparently, the idiot couldn't make up his goddamned mind...
"I don't know, B., why can't we just go upstairs?"
"Because we always do it in my bed! Don't you want to have some fun?" She challenged him as she kissed the man's neck.
"Seriously, I don't see the fun in doing it on a kitchen table…" He replied.
"Ugh! Fine!" She said, letting go of his shirt's neck. "Where do you wanna do it?" She continued, crossing her legs seductively. "I know! How about we do it in the garden?" She asked, as excited as a little girl asking her parents to take her to an amusement park.
"Are you serious, now?" He asked incredulous.
She sighed…
"Alright… Perhaps we could go for a night swim in our new pool! We finished it while you were gone training in the desert…"
"I don't know… I don't feel like it… Why can't we just go to bed? Come on…"
"Yamcha…" She pleaded.
The warrior kept spying behind the semi-closed door. Why? He had no clue. Perhaps it was for the very same reason some people stop by a car crash: the morbid fascination of watching a train wreck, only in this case it was more like a tutorial on how not to treat your woman.
What the fuck was wrong with that weakling?
Even Vegeta, in all his prideful Saiyan glory, wasn't stupid enough to deny the female's charms… A woman like Bulma was made to be worshipped, and if she wanted to do it in the kitchen, you just took out your goddamned cock and fucked her sweet little cunt into oblivion...
"Fine…" The scientist relented. "How about we make a deal?"
"What deal?" The scarred faced man asked with heavy suspicion in his voice.
She grabbed him by the shirt again, kissing him passionately before she whispered her suggestion.
"We can do it in my bed, but we play a little with the toys I bought for us last time…"
The Prince couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that. Toys? Humans really were a funny race…
"No, Bulma! I already told you… I just… I'm not into that kind of stuff…"
"I know what you said…" She said tiredly. "Look, I know I shouldn't have tried to convince you about the handcuffs and all that, but this time…" There was a pause, and she kissed his lips again, softly this time.
"This time you can do it to me…" She whispered, her voice heavy with playful desire.
"You seriously want me to handcuff you to the bed…" He replied skeptically.
"Why not?" She hugged him, bringing him even closer to her soft warm body. "You know I trust you…"
Sweet merciful Kami.
The man inside the closet couldn't believe his ears…
"Let's just do it here…" The man finally said, giving in.
"Really? You want me to bring the handcuffs?" She asked excitedly.
"What? No! I mean, let's just do it here on the table, like you said…"
"Oh… Right…"
Vegeta noticed how clueless the guy was. If he ever had the privilege of having that fine woman handcuffed to his bed he'd do unspeakable things to her luscious body…
Yamcha kissed her again, softly caressing her rosy cheeks.
"Let's just get in the mood, alright?" He whispered.
And that's when the torture truly began as the couple really started to get into it. The Prince kept watching with morbid fascination, and for the first time he truly understood the mechanics of the couple's relationship: the weakling didn't give her much, just enough to keep her by his side, and Bulma looked, more and more, like a woman desperately clinging to something that probably didn't even exist anymore.
They kissed for a while, Yamcha standing between those wide open shapely legs, rubbing his crotch against her core. All of a sudden, the heiress clung tighter to his neck, whispering something in his ear, and the man proceeded to awkwardly remove her panties.
It was pitiful to see the lack of chemistry between the two lovers, and Vegeta's suspicions were finally confirmed when the blue haired beauty unzipped the man's pants and she revealed her boyfriend's member.
The Prince quickly turned his head.
That's where he drew the line.
But his sharp Saiyan eyes had unwillingly given him a glimpse of the guy's dick.
He was flaccid.
Holy shit.
It was hard to imagine a man holding that splendid body and kissing those rebellious pouty lips and not getting instantly hard as a rock. Hell! Just getting a glimpse of the woman prancing around in one of those indecent costumes she used to wear whenever she soaked in the sun by the pool would fill his mind with indecent thoughts and make his cock twitch.
"Come here…" He heard her whisper. He'd walked away from the door by now, his eyes firmly shut, but he couldn't help but hear her voice.
She was encouraging her lover, comforting him with soothing words as she probably worked him with her graceful fingers. Vegeta felt sick, and he couldn't help but claw his fingers tightly into his arms as he kept them firmly crossed over his chest. The worst part was that awful possessive feeling that felt like a punch in the stomach. He didn't quite know where it was coming from, but he knew he didn't like it.
Not one bit.
And then it happened.
"Here, let me help you…" She whispered again, and before he knew it, the room was filled with soft suckling noises.
She was sucking his dick.
And the worst part was that the guy was still probably soft…
Oh, yes, he'd been right from the start, he was one of those people who were born to suffer, there was no other explanation for the fuckery that was going on around him at the moment.
The soft, wet sounds carried on for a few minutes that positively felt like an eternity, and then it was over.
"Fuck!" Yamcha cursed under his breath. "I'm sorry babe, I just… I can't…"
He fucking knew it.
The asshole couldn't even get it up and satisfy his goddamn woman.
"It's alright… Do you… Do you wanna go to bed? No funny stuff, just so we can get comfortable and…"
"No." He cut her abruptly. "I mean… Yes, we should, but… I just, I'm not in the mood anymore, babe…"
Silence.
The most furiously unnerving silence.
"Oh, okay…" She finally replied, and her voice was so full of sadness and disappointment that Vegeta really hoped that when those damn androids finally showed up, the scarred faced warrior would be the first to die. A slow, painful death or, at the very least, he'd get a fucking hole in his chest.
"It's not you, B." He quickly said. "I think I'm just tired, you know…"
Bullshit.
Vegeta finally walked towards the half-shut door again, and he witnessed the pathetic scene of the man condescendingly kissing the heiress on her forehead, delicately caressing her turquoise hair.
"I'm going to bed, are you coming?" He asked hopefully.
She nodded.
"In a minute, I'm going to get some milk…"
"Okay…" He replied, and even though he'd said his goodbyes, he remained there, looking like a man that knew he'd truly fucked things up, for real this time. He shyly caressed her cheek again.
"How about we get up earlier tomorrow and we have a quickie before I go to my baseball training?" He offered.
Vegeta had no idea what a quickie was, but it sounded like shit, and the only thing he really wanted right at this moment was to fucking leave the house so he could go somewhere and punch something.
Anything.
"Sure…" Bulma replied with a saccharine smile that didn't reach her lovely blue eyes.
"Goodnight…" Yamcha finally said as he left the room.
"'Night..." The woman replied.
The Prince just stood there, relieved that the idiot was finally gone and hypnotized by the woman standing right in front of him, in the middle of the kitchen. She was now staring at the floor, lost in thought as she hugged herself, and Vegeta immediately guessed what she was feeling.
Defeat.
She stood there for a moment, and then she shook her head as if coming back to reality. She walked towards one of the kitchen cabinets, picking up a bottle of that minty green liquid earthlings called 'mouthwash', she rinsed her mouth a couple of times and she poured herself a glass of cold milk from the fridge. With the grace of a slender cat, she hopped on the table again, sitting crossed legged and looking out the window and into the starry night.
Vegeta knew he could have probably left by now without being heard, but he refused to leave the woman alone, knowing she was in such a vulnerable state.
He was right.
Soon the tears fell freely from her mesmerizing blue eyes, and yet, even as she cried, she remained dignified. His dangerous eyes focused on her perfect posture and her elegant profile.
She looked like a queen.
They both remained that way for a few minutes, until Bulma finally finished her glass of milk and she gracefully stood up again, softly wiping off her tears with her pale hands, walking away towards the corridor and into the dark house, away from him…
The Saiyan finally exited the large closet, his appetite now completely gone, and unable to go to sleep either.
He wanted to follow her, to talk to her, he didn't know why or what he'd even say, but the thought of the female going to bed in that condition, laying next to that disgraceful excuse for a man, made him sick.
He finally decided to fly to her room, at least to make sure that she was alright. And that's what he did, silently landing on her balcony and looking through the glass of her French doors.
She wasn't there.
The only person on her bed was that damn human asshole, sleeping soundly as if he hadn't just broken his girlfriend's heart.
Vegeta took a deep breath, focusing his finely tuned senses in an attempt to track Bulma's minute but distinctive ki.
No fucking way.
She was in his room.
Why? He asked himself as he soundlessly flew towards her, now landing on his balcony and curiously gazing through his own windows.
It was surreal.
The woman was laying on her stomach on his unmade bed, her face buried in his pillow, completely naked.
*** Ooops! A lemon has been removed! Please visit AO3 if you're interested in reading it! ***
She finally opened her eyes, and he quickly moved to the side of the balcony, hiding from her view, unwilling to display himself in this condition. He didn't want to embarrass either one of them.
He closed his eyes, trying to calm down, his cock still throbbing unrelentingly. He'd patiently wait until she left his room and then he'd finally be able to relieve himself…
"Did you enjoy the show?" A husky, flirtatious voice asked.
He opened his eyes widely, discovering a very naked Bulma standing right in front of him. He'd been so lost that he'd failed to notice her presence until it was too late. He remained silent, staring at her.
The woman smiled lazily, a confident, cocky attitude reflected in her azure eyes.
No, this wasn't the woman from the kitchen, and yet…
She walked towards him...
*** A second lemon has been removed! Please visit AO3 if you're curious about it! ***
She stopped when she sensed he was becoming oversensitive, and she remained quiet in her spot as she felt him tremble, barely able to stand on his feet. She buried her face in his neck and she inhaled deeply as she placed soft kisses over his warm skin…
"I love the way you smell…" She whispered out of the blue.
He didn't talk, waiting for the woman to make her next move.
She finally stepped back, making him feel the loss of her warmth. She gently caressed his flushed cheek and she simply said, "Goodnight, Vegeta."
He didn't reply, his brain still numb, and she smiled again.
"I'll see you around…" She whispered as she turned around, walking into his room, closing the door behind her as she left and leaving a very confused and sated Saiyan Prince standing alone on the balcony.
He managed to walk inside, laying on his bed as he run a hand through his now very sweaty mane.
He knew it.
He fucking knew it.
'I love the way you smell' She'd said…
He'd always known there was something different about that woman, and he was going to figure her out or die trying.
He smirked.
It would have to be a very thorough investigation, one he was sure he'd enjoy immensely.
Perhaps she really was half-Saiyan after all, he thought as he finally closed his eyes and sleep overtook him…