***Disclaimer*** I don't own any rights to Dragon Ball Z, yada, yada, yada.
Oh yeah! And I don't own any rights to the piece of the poem by Lawrence
Ferlinghetti that I used in the second chapter.
A/n: Well guess what folks! I'm finally releasing the third and fourth chapters. Thank you to those that reviewed. I hope that you enjoy my next installment. There's no lemon or lime here.o.k. Just a little mention but nothing major. Enjoy! ; P
Translations:
If you don't know them then you can look at the translations on chapter one.
**Last time on The Bulma and Vegeta Story:
Bulma gasped at the memory and sat up in her bed. "I could hear what he was thinking..." She remembered. She looked at the clock. 7:00 it read. Well, no time better than the present. Bulma got out of bed and headed towards the bathroom to begin her day.
Bulma slid out from under the silky sheets. She searchingly placed her feet on the floor, seeking her house shoes. Quietly she shuffled to the bathroom that connected to her bedroom. She quickly stepped into the shower and slumped to the floor. The water had warmth, warmth that could wash away the memories of the past. When Bulma was finished with her shower, she timidly got dressed. A blush swept her cheeks as she thought about confronting Vegeta. "What can I possibly say to him?" She spoke aloud to herself. Bulma glanced in the mirror, but shied away. How could she live with herself? How could she sleep in her bed ever again, knowing what had taken place in it? She caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror again, but this time stopped before she could look away. She touched her cheek, trying to feel what Vegeta felt when he touched her. Shivers. No one ever touched Bulma that way, never that.gentle. A feeling of dread sprouted in the pit of her stomach. Why did he touch me that way? She thought to herself. Why did I.enjoy it? She remembered the first time that she had done anything with Yamcha. Timidly sitting on his couch, she had watched him put a condom on. She'd never been so embarrassed! Bulma had only been seventeen at the time and had never given sex a second thought. At seventeen she had been extremely naïve; She thought the only thing that could be done with boys was making out. Yamcha fumbled a bit with himself and then mounted Bulma. It was terrible. First of all, it hurt like crazy. Second of all, Yamcha hadn't an ounce of compassion. He laid on top of her, huffing and puffing and sweating, then was done in about five minutes. Bulma was relieved of that! A few minutes later Yamcha wanted to do it again. Bulma said no and he got angry, kicking her out of his apartment. That had been the end of her innocence. Sure, after a while she decided to try it again, but it was always a bumbling, fumbling mess, never anything gentle and passionate like she had experienced the night before. Bulma sighed and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. That feeling of dread was still there. "I don't like him, I don't like him, I don't like him." She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. How could she possibly have any feelings for that thing? Her heart sank. He's not a thing.He's gentle. She thought. No! She couldn't feel anything for him! It was simply a one-night thing, a lustful thing! Women had urges too; women liked sex! A tune went through her head: Like any hot-blooded woman, I simply wanted an object to crave. That's it! She thought. I'm just searching for something to.crave. You are as soft as I thought you would be, onna. "Stop it!" Bulma spat. She was still looking at her reflection in the mirror. She finished buttoning up her pants and grabbed the pack of cigarettes on her dresser. With a deep breath she headed towards the door to face the only thing that really scared her.
A/n: Well guess what folks! I'm finally releasing the third and fourth chapters. Thank you to those that reviewed. I hope that you enjoy my next installment. There's no lemon or lime here.o.k. Just a little mention but nothing major. Enjoy! ; P
Translations:
If you don't know them then you can look at the translations on chapter one.
**Last time on The Bulma and Vegeta Story:
Bulma gasped at the memory and sat up in her bed. "I could hear what he was thinking..." She remembered. She looked at the clock. 7:00 it read. Well, no time better than the present. Bulma got out of bed and headed towards the bathroom to begin her day.
Bulma slid out from under the silky sheets. She searchingly placed her feet on the floor, seeking her house shoes. Quietly she shuffled to the bathroom that connected to her bedroom. She quickly stepped into the shower and slumped to the floor. The water had warmth, warmth that could wash away the memories of the past. When Bulma was finished with her shower, she timidly got dressed. A blush swept her cheeks as she thought about confronting Vegeta. "What can I possibly say to him?" She spoke aloud to herself. Bulma glanced in the mirror, but shied away. How could she live with herself? How could she sleep in her bed ever again, knowing what had taken place in it? She caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror again, but this time stopped before she could look away. She touched her cheek, trying to feel what Vegeta felt when he touched her. Shivers. No one ever touched Bulma that way, never that.gentle. A feeling of dread sprouted in the pit of her stomach. Why did he touch me that way? She thought to herself. Why did I.enjoy it? She remembered the first time that she had done anything with Yamcha. Timidly sitting on his couch, she had watched him put a condom on. She'd never been so embarrassed! Bulma had only been seventeen at the time and had never given sex a second thought. At seventeen she had been extremely naïve; She thought the only thing that could be done with boys was making out. Yamcha fumbled a bit with himself and then mounted Bulma. It was terrible. First of all, it hurt like crazy. Second of all, Yamcha hadn't an ounce of compassion. He laid on top of her, huffing and puffing and sweating, then was done in about five minutes. Bulma was relieved of that! A few minutes later Yamcha wanted to do it again. Bulma said no and he got angry, kicking her out of his apartment. That had been the end of her innocence. Sure, after a while she decided to try it again, but it was always a bumbling, fumbling mess, never anything gentle and passionate like she had experienced the night before. Bulma sighed and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. That feeling of dread was still there. "I don't like him, I don't like him, I don't like him." She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. How could she possibly have any feelings for that thing? Her heart sank. He's not a thing.He's gentle. She thought. No! She couldn't feel anything for him! It was simply a one-night thing, a lustful thing! Women had urges too; women liked sex! A tune went through her head: Like any hot-blooded woman, I simply wanted an object to crave. That's it! She thought. I'm just searching for something to.crave. You are as soft as I thought you would be, onna. "Stop it!" Bulma spat. She was still looking at her reflection in the mirror. She finished buttoning up her pants and grabbed the pack of cigarettes on her dresser. With a deep breath she headed towards the door to face the only thing that really scared her.