The breakdown at daybreak was turning into an all-out tourney for everlasting glory that was still very much ongoing when the sun gained the sky. It would reign there for the coming fourteen hours, Akane had learned, and she expected the prince quite willing and able to spend them all persuading her to accept him reigning her. She was a mess. Her smarting thighs were drenched in their mingled juices, her aching skin damp with sweat, her hair that had been grabbed and pulled and used to wrangle her into submission a mass of tangles with strands plastered to her forehead, and her tail had gone so fat, it had lost anything resembling a set shape. She wasn't trying to get away anymore, was wholly on top and on the offence at this point in fact, and happy to use her scope for riding the absolute shit out of him. And why not? Sure, he was a dick for presuming to sneak up on her in the small hours and claim his place in this bunk he had given her to sleep on, but he was a proper champion for making it so good to her. His dick-swinging crap that apparently gave him limitless pingers and enabled him to by now be triple-dipping her without showing any signs that he was done widdling her down, also drove him to painstakingly count out her peaks for her. She was getting more quenchless with every one she hit and he deserved the credit he so cockily took for that, prone as she was to lose interest in sex after a nice pop or two. She was a greedy taker too. But this wasn't about her anymore. She wanted to get him off and revel in that one second of powerlessness coming over him. Seeing the determination on his unfavourably handsome face shatter and hearing him rumble his hapless relief, often with a nice fuck thrown in, was the cherry on her cake.
This bore the hallmarks of her twines with Turles. It was a long one and she was having loads of fun, but those were more gregarious than sexual, Turles' company that of a comrade whom she could easily call her most cherished friend. Their joining was a means to unwind while this tireless twine with the prince wound her up until she unravelled, over and over, in consummation. His heavy hitting held some likeness as well to the grabby, inclement overtaking Ringo would perpetrate on her, only magnified to excess and exacted with complete control over the expert moves the prince was making on her. This right here was all-consuming, earth-shattering sex. The best she ever had. And it was only getting better with the growing familiarity of their trashing bodies. She was sickly hankering, desperately needing and fully aware of the sadly pathetic dependency she was developing.
Her thighs started shaking with that narrow waist caught between them, the shards of his hipbones standing out awesomely as he worked them into her frenetic dash up the hill. He had that in common with Ringo as well, that leanness she found so attractive. She would choose it over brawny every time.
"Right there." Akane panted her encouragement, grabbing the hands clutching her waist and enlacing their fingers so that she could use him as a stanchion again, out of her own free will and needing it just as badly as she had when she fought gravity.
Vegeta flashed her his big, bragging, white-toothed smirk. "You are wiping yourself out."
"Shut up." she rasped. "Just shut up and join me."
She let him take the lead from her, one hand fixing her wrists to her back and the other grasping her tail-end like a rudder with which he steered her to the edge of reason. The pressure in her groin gave way and she washed out over him, legs jerking, breath gulping, body flopping and mind deaf to rationality. He did join her and he stayed with her long after he spat his cum up the penetralia he was aiming to conquer. She gobbled up his "Fuck." like she was sucking life itself from his lips.
There wasn't enough air in her for the concluding kisses he gave her and yet she kept returning them long after they had turned into the starting point of yet another round. She should make him leave. Her men would be up soon and no matter how the prince was rocking her world, she still did not want them to find out. They already had their suspicions in spite of the showers she kept taking to rid herself of the prince's scent. Turles was programmed to be leery regardless and Ringo had only rushed ahead of the topic due to that rash he needed scratched last night. After, he had been too satiated to give it anymore thought. It wouldn't last, though. The smell she had on now required a scrub that was going to leave her flesh raw and she didn't think what had transpired – was transpiring – here, could have escaped her men's big ears. But, she could still hope, right?
The prince showed no signs of leaving on his own accord even as Akane scrambled for separation and he granted her overstretched, searing sex solace by jerking his hips back and withdrawing from her. He let her slip to his side, kept her stuck there with one arm slung around her back and his hand still clutching her rear. When he sighed and reached up to rake a lazy hand through his mussed-up hair, she couldn't summon the will to tell him that he should fuck off. She already felt empty and in need of him again. More, was what her body sung as he rolled towards and half on top of her with his ripped physique. More, was what his lips let whisper across her skin as he put lingering kisses to the scar curving up from the corner of her mouth. More, more, more.
His peculiar style of mixing that forceful domination with doting tenderness, leaned much more towards the gentler side now and it made her feel treasured and slight and feminine and sexy again. He was bringing her back to the ground, allowed her to gather herself and find her breath, then slowly worked her up into pieces again. He had his fondling down to a fine art. His deft, elegant, self-assured hands were unearthing all her tender spots like he was digging for, and expecting to find gold in the most unlikely places. From the backs of her thighs to the insides of her knees, the tickly spots down the sides of her lower back, the hollow of her navel and the one at her throat, and the rims of her wonky ears he kept kissing. He touched, pinched, tickled them all and apart from her obvious sensitive spots like the tops of her breasts and the place between her thighs. Those he threw in only sporadically to keep her in a constant state of lusting anticipation.
Having him with her naked for the first of three most engaging escapades, finally gave her a chance to seek out his secrets in return and she was faring only on instinct, infused by this ever intensifying heat between them. She let her fingertips and nails trace the outlines of his arm muscles, across his sinewy shoulders to his hard pecks and in between the tight ridges of his abdomen, all of it chiselled marble. She came across countless battle scars professing how achieved a warrior he was and she took her time admiring the fascinating canvas of his flesh. His skin was smooth and bore the vestiges of olive that had dulled sadly in his life away from suns they would never get to see again. The light that ruled these skies and was steadily creeping in through the blinds at the window, wasn't strong enough to give him the lustre of sun-kissed skin. Back on Vegetasei, he could have built up an arousing tan, though she figured he probably wouldn't have. His father hadn't. The gentry considered a peasant skin below their standards because it suggested a life toiling out in the suns doing menial work. Or worse, a Southern origin.
Akane had been fucked either way. Her skin branded her neither savage nor gentle. Many Northerners, and the lofty ones especially, had done away with her as a mixed mongrel, or if they had been kinder, only half bad. That had ended quickly enough when she grew out of her girly limbs and developed a temper that deterred anyone from calling her anything. Above the mountains, at least. Down South, her mother's kinsmen had named her complexion the colour of bad cack, even after her temper blossomed and even if she hadn't been anywhere near as pale as the Northerners they despised. If the maternal half of her line could see how she had turned out spending half her life away from home, they probably wouldn't deign her worthy to piss on. Unlike the prince who looked handsome and healthy, Akane did not carry a lighter tone well. Her complexion begged sunlight. It had a sallow, almost sickly tinge to it and dark circles had permanently blotted the skin under her eyes for the past decades that had been stolen from her. She missed the suns. Their unforgiving glare, the scorching heat, the smell they left on her skin in her younger years spent in the South chasing after the goals her mother had set for her while fat sun chased its slighter sister across the purple sky every day without ever catching her.
Acute her pining was, and vain, and so she left it behind for the thing that was preoccupying her again before she could confront the definitiveness of her embarkment, long ago, on a journey to save the boy who was a boy no more in the now that swallowed her up. She roamed on, gladly, swept up in familiarizing herself with this prince lost and found through fortuity. In favour of speed, his genetics had made him shed his body hair except for a small patch of exciting, black stubble above his very long and right now very erect digger. Akane had evolved likewise, as had Turles and probably Kakarot. Not Ringo with his hairy arse, his genes hadn't advanced quite that far yet. It figured with piss-streak descending from a long line of idle lords who never saw a field of battle in their lives. Hairy arse or not, Ringo was an awesome battler and had proven his worth countless times over the years. As had Turles. They were nowhere near as awesome as their prince was though, not even close. Her commander and lieutenant had nothing on this formidable warrior taking up all her space in bed.
Akane got spellbound by the fearsome scar running along the shelve of his strong jaw. It was a groove, old, thin and nearly colourless so that it was easily overlooked, but he had cheated death with that one. An inch lower and his throat would have been cut.
"Such a handsome scar." she whispered as she followed it with her fingertips. "Where did you get this?"
"Battle." Vegeta said quietly.
The answer was prompt, casual, meagre and telling her much about him. More than he wanted for sure. He had demons. There was a truth in his eyes that she would not address. She had her own hauntings and she did not like airing her shit either. A private man, the prince was. One who, for all his straightforwardness, was very skilled at deflecting unwanted questions as he chose this moment to take her again, his breach so slow, so easy, so slick that the storm in her was reignited all at once and took away her will to further pry, should she have wanted to.
She was smothered fully now, seized firmer, his arm roped around her back to keep her tied yet cherished under him and giving her nowhere to go and nowhere she would rather be. He brushed the hair back from her sweaty forehead, rubbed his thumb up the scar at her mouth and held her gaze, looking so sure of himself while he slowly drove her to her highest point. She would adopt these bridles he was slipping on, his very brown eyes told her, one way or the other, he would have her. He stole her mouth, made it his and kissed the sanity out of her. She tried to keep up with his tongue and his loins, but she had never been taken over quite like this and her attention was maniacally switching between the two pleasures he overloaded her system with. She grabbed his cheeks and mashed her lips with his to make him stop confusing her, putting all her focus on her delivery and sending her helpless moans straight into his mouth. She managed only half of the tried and true announcement that she had reached her bloom by forcing out a difficult: "There..."
"Just so." Vegeta agreed, hardly getting the words out because she was pressing their mouths together so forcefully. "You moved into double digits."
Akane was laughing and moaning and crying her eyes out riding this perpetual spiral of extasy he sent her down with his deep, persuasive strokes. "Stop… counting... dick." she gasped.
He backed up to smirk down on her. "This should really count as two. You are coming hard."
She put her hand in his too handsome face, whimpering miserably at this hunger for him that just would not let her go. He plucked it away, pushed himself up on his hands, snagged one of her legs with his arm to open her wider and gathered speed to hound her up the next climb, her keening turning into squeaky little bursts of breath for every hard blow of his loins. Her other leg was snatched as well and he doubled her up, hands pressing into the backs of her knees to keep her that way. Her hip joints were ready to pop out bearing his bulk and she was very relieved when he shifted to his heels. He pushed his thighs wide and fucked her harder, grasping her waist with both hands for leverage as he steamrolled her.
Akane didn't even bother announcing her next orgasm. It was evident in the pathetic eppy she was throwing and she was far too busy wallowing in successfully dragging him down with her. He pulled out to spill his sticky piss on her mound and stomach, claiming her exterior as well, then used his end to drag a streak of milky discharge back inside her and proceeded to give her a slow back and forth that he followed closely with his eyes. Panting hard, she propped herself up on her hands to join in on the spectacle of that thoroughly slick digger gliding in and out of her oozing sex. His serious fuck-face gave way to the merest of smiles when their gazes met. She held his attention longer, using her finger to wipe up the shrapnel her breasts had caught and putting it in her mouth, her tongue atingle from the tangy, slightly sweet taste of his cum. He moved in for a hard kiss, sat back again, withdrew and let his wet length slide across her soiled mound. It gave a telling visual of how deeply he penetrated her and it corresponded soundly to the dull hurt he had left in her core.
"How about that upward distance?" Akane joked. "Have you ever seen a more optimal dick-to-navel ratio?"
"Your eloquence is a delight." Vegeta remarked under his breath. His gaze drifted back up to hers and a foolish smile broke out on his face.
Akane laughed, or more giggled which was just stupid. She liked an amorous prince almost as much as she liked a dick-swinging, overassertive one. "You look happy."
"I am obsessed." he confessed, frank like she was getting to know him to be. "I couldn't have conjured you up for inspiration in my lewdest fantasies. Your body is a right scandal." He palmed her foot and let his forefinger slip along the bottom of her toes. "Even your little feet are sexy."
He may look goofy, Akane caught herself smiling like a shitfaced piss-head on a bender. She slipped her foot to his groin, teasing him with what was apparently one of his kinks. "I noticed you bulk up when you turn super." she followed his length with her toes. "Does that go for this as well?"
Vegeta looked up from where he was lifting her other foot, his expression somewhere between amusement and preoccupation with her letting his dick slide in between the instep of her feet. "What advantage could there possibly be in having a bigger cock on the battlefield?"
"Posturing?" Akane inserted smartly. "Signalling the offence? Announce the long peril incoming?"
He let out one of those pleasant, deep, tuneful laughs. Yeah, she could see herself fall for that. Head over fucking heels. And if it turned out that he could sing as well as his father, then it was pretty much a done deal. This flighty caper was beginning to look very serious indeed.
"That would only work on you and I don't want to put you on the defence again." Vegeta said, breaking their play abruptly. His speed was almost too fast to catch when he swept up her legs and tossed her onto her side to create room for himself on the bed behind her. "Besides, we just established how tight the squeeze is."
Akane moaned as he illustrated that by lifting her leg to delve her deeply and make her womb twinge again. "You never actually tried, have you? How could you. With her." she needled. "You couldn't get away with a regular power-fuck, let alone lay a supersized one on her."
"Don't ruin it for me now. I was just starting to warm up to you." He eased her face up to his. "Tell me, big-mouth. Am I winning you over yet?"
Akane laughed – giggled – again. She sounded like a fucking girl. "You are very dogged."
"I am." he said, his gaze wandering her face. "Winning you over, I mean."
"You are wasted on her." Akane said faintly. She was becoming hypnotized by his eyes that were so brown and bright and beautiful and making her drown hopelessly in their fathomless depths. And that virile, hot smell of him, it was bewitching her. "And that power is wasted on you."
"You don't want to add that to my drive. My impulse-control is unreliable when I am in super. I get carried away. I am so keen for you, I am fit to rip you to shreds as it is."
That prospect probably shouldn't turn her on like it did, but her own impulses had never proven manageable. The lust in that low, rumbling voice, those long, deep strokes he was giving her and that unrelenting ease in his demeaner made her just as keen to let him tear through her. But he was putting her down, belittling her and comparing her to his lesser bitch again. Suggesting her hardly a step up again. As if she couldn't handle him. She was seconds from blowing, yet her temper was getting far hotter than that hotspot he was so expertly pocking his dick at.
"I am fraying alright. Your vapid romancing is torture." Akane snapped, rash only in hindsight.
His embrace turned into another pin at her attempt to twist out of it. She was on her back again, leg pushed up, knee under her chin and him on her, fencing her in with his ropy limbs. He made her belie her words by forcing another climax on her, without comment this time, letting the piss splattering onto her thigh speak for itself as he backed out all the way and ebbed her opening until she was done gushing.
"You say what you mean." Akane resumed squeakily, refusing to let him reign her mouth on top of everything else. "If lying in my own piss at your feet means putting me to sleep with both thumbs up my arse, maybe. The only fuck I am inspired to throw your way, is letting you watch me fuck off skipping into the sunset."
"You won't last that long." Vegeta told her as he dipped down for a deep, erotic kiss that matched the deep plunge he took in her again. "I will have gentled you long before the end of this day."
He remained over her, propped up on his elbows, and watched her struggle to breathe while he let his weight push the air from her. She went limp under him, accepting his dominance. No, she was relishing it, and he knew it too. He dropped to his side behind her again, stuck in her and her leg still caught in the crook of his arm. His hand was lying across her throat, idle but communicating that he intended to stay on top. She stretched her arms above her head in reply and let them lie there to show him that this was fine by her.
"Better." He gave her one of his great big smiles, not even looking smug, just fucking happy like she was. "There may not be room for both thumbs next to the massive thing that has crawled up your tiny pooper. I think it is trying to put down roots there."
Akane fought with her laughter. "It lives there."
"It does?" Vegeta asked. He teased another sensual kiss out of her and whispered: "Is that on me?"
"Making it pack up its shit and leave is on you." she whispered back.
"Was that pun intended?" he sniggered. "You need a sorcerer to exorcise that one."
Giggle, giggle, fucking giggle. Could someone please just put her out of her fucking misery? Akane squeezed her hand in between their bodies to move him on from easy pink, fully appreciating the term now that he had shown her just how easy it could be with this dick she was planning to take round the back. The long peril that hit her everywhere she was sweetest every time, in every position, fast or slow, hard or soft, his rhythm working so well for her, she didn't even need to avail herself of tricks like consciously angling or flexing for the right friction. He knocked on her backdoor and made her brace herself for the hurt, then retook the easy route with deliberation and made that sting pretty bad as he pushed in all the way and let his end hit her womb.
"Not that it hasn't crossed my mind," Vegeta said, mouth on her ear, the rumble of hunger in his low voice. "but making that rewarding for you, begs the kind of finesse I can't afford right now. What I am about to do to you, is not going to be pretty."
He rolled onto his back and took her with him, still joined, so that she lay on top of him butterflied, her thighs pulled wide by the backs of her knees and him still fucking her. She pushed herself up, her hands back on his ripped stomach for support, and watched his dick cleave her again and again. Harder, faster, better.
"Don't stop." Akane panted her delight. She was losing her mind. "Fuck me harder. Go all out. Go super. I am not your fucking bitch so you fuck me like you fucking mean it."
"Those are a lot of big words for such a little thing. Don't tempt me. I am less than one more fuck away from sending you off limping into that sunset." Vegeta took her by the ankles, planted her feet on his widened thighs and grasped her waist to lift her up and suspend her over his loins. "Strap in, fireball."
Akane could feel him prime beneath her and readied herself for what was to come. And then he unleashed himself, fucking her so fast and hard and deep that it robbed her of her breath. It made her sex hurt so bad that her essence was screaming in ecstatic agony. She was singing her yesses, high on the thrill of victory. His speed was just insane. She had incited him to give her all of him. And wasn't this little thing handling it with flair? She was throwing her back out to get a look at him, wanting a good eyeful of the golden version of this prince knocking her fucking boots off. He must be in super now. He must. He wasn't. A glimpse of tall, flaming black hair was all the confirmation she could get in this second instance of big eyes, little belly. Whereas she had been telling him, not seconds ago, to show off his unparalleled might and use that on her, she was now praying her hardest that he wouldn't. He had not been bragging. He was fit to rip her to shreds, it was far from pretty and she was every bit as little as he told her she was.
"You are destroying me!"
"You did ask." Vegeta threw her the off-the-cuff, fucking freestyling it all the way through his smackdown.
Akane clutched his wrists, holding on for dear life as he put to bed any misconceptions left in her about who and what he was. She was holding out, vehemently, on the last thing that would make true all the words he had spoken and meant. Crying mercy. She tightened her interior, hard, then made it go soft and flexed again, harder. The working of her sex would probably snap a lesser man's dick right off, but she could only hope that it was enough for this one to find his finish and leave a little left of her and her diminished pride. It worked, bless the suns, and her ordeal was over when he froze up beneath her. He forced her into his brutally churning loins and came with a low groan and an emphatic: "Fuck."
"Fuck." Akane echoed, sobbing and prying the vices his hands were from her waist.
Her mangled flesh bore the angry red imprints of his fingers and she knew that the arse he had just fucked off her, would be looking even redder and angrier. She sent her convulsing body forward, landing herself in between his legs with her tear-stained cheek stuffed in the bed and her shuddering tail raised in utter, undeniable defeat. He was already on her again and she squealed unwillingly at the hands grabbing her thoroughly trashed arse. Letting herself spill onto the floor beside the bed, she at last panted: "Mercy."
That dogged persistence left his manly features as well as his ripped frame and he appeared almost scattered, as if this was the last thing he had expected. He stared her deeper into the ground even whilst his eyes softened and turned back to the radiant brown she could no longer weather.
"Yield." Akane repeated with more conviction, though she was entirely out of breath. "I yield."
She closed her eyes to escape him and melted with the white, cool, plastic-like surface of the floor to let it soothe her burning skin while she lay there twitching and catching her breath. At his feet she was, and in her own piss, just like he had promised her she would be. She heard him fall heavily to the bed, then a big, gratified sigh that made her open her eyes and snort a laugh despite her downfall. He gave her a lopsided smirk and threw out his arm, elegant hand up for her to take. A command disguised as an invite. Did she even dare decline at this point? Did she want to?
What the hell, let him think he had won her over. She slipped her hand in his and let him drag her back into bed, back under his influence and under him.
