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chickpow · 8 years ago

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Cure For the Itch

Chickpow here: I found an old disc/floppy disc in my attic containing a lot of very old fanfiction from authors and websites that are either gone or taken down. I am not the author but I would like to share what I’ve found. if you find the author please let me know so I can credit them properly. Thank you and enjoy

Cure For the Itch

By Kinomi

He was bored. Actually he was beyond bored, a state he positively hated to be in. Trunks pushed the papers on his desk around half-heartedly and gazed longingly at the window. He could leave – but then he’d have to endure another lecture from his mother about responsibility and he just wasn’t sure he could face up to it. So he was stuck…alone with nothing to do – well, nothing except never-ending paperwork – a fate worse than boredom, but slightly better than a mother sermon on his work habits.

Resting his chin on the heel of one hand, he tapped the fingers of the other against the desk blotter impatiently. How much longer until he could conceivably escape this torture and go home? He had much more important – and interesting – things to do there. Trunks cringed as he caught sight of the clock just beside the half open door of his office – only one o’ clock in the afternoon. He had at least three or four more hours of this torture and he groaned helplessly under his breath. Maybe he could run down to the coffee shop on the ground floor and get himself a snack and a cup of coffee, even though he’d only had lunch two hours before and there was coffee in the break room two doors down the hall. The errand could chew up maybe twenty minutes if he dawdled.

Making up his mind, Trunks shrugged into his black suit jacket, smoothing it down habitually over his blue shirt and dark blue tie. It was his favorite of his monkey suits as he thought of them. He looked good in it, and he took a secret pleasure from the way the women in the office building would turn to stare as he passed. He liked feeling their eyes on him, knowing they found him attractive. Knowing also that he would never give them an inch of encouragement. His secretary gave him a harried glance as he passed her, and he mimed getting a cup of coffee before pointing to the floor – indicating he was going to get it from the coffee shop downstairs. She sighed dramatically and shook her head, knowing it was useless to try and get him to stay. Trunks flashed her a devastating smile as he headed for the elevator.

“I have a Dr.’s appointment!” she called after him loudly, “I won’t be here when you get back!”

Trunks turned and walked backwards down the hall, giving her his most winning grin. “I’ll try to muddle through the rest of the day without you then. But the joy will be gone…” he said smoothly, one hand on his heart. She snorted; scowling at him as she juggled the phone receiver tucked into her neck and shoulder and his appointment book, but still managed to shake a scolding finger at him.

“You’d BETTER not cut out early and skip your meeting! Your mother said the next time you did it was going to be MY hide!” His secretary yelled after him. Trunks stepped onto the waiting elevator and flapped a soothing gesture in her direction, his finger on the door button.

“You’ll always have a job as long as I’m around, I’d be lost without you,” he called, and pushed the lobby button. The doors closing and cutting off whatever tirade she threw in his direction, but he was sure he definitely heard the word “raise” in there.

He’d polished off two of the oversized éclairs on his plate - carefully brushing the crumbs off his expensive suit while ignoring the many jealous glares his packing away the calories had earned him from the dieters in the room - and was reaching for his large espresso when he saw her. His hand paused with the cup on his way to his mouth, hiding his slack jaw as he stared. She sat at the farthest of the tables scattered around fountain at the center of the lobby. She was a goddess, one glance told him that, and he hadn’t even seen her face, but like he needed to with a body like that.

She was blonde, and he’d always had a secret fondness for those. She sat back in her chair like she was the only person in the room, sipping some frothy decadent concoction piled high with whipped cream. Her hair fell loose over her shoulders and down her back in shining golden waves, just begging for his hands to plunge into the thick silky mass. Her eyes, when they rose to meet his were a clear light aqua, wide and tip tilted at the corners, her lashes thick and dark. Her full pink lips pursed adorably around her straw as she took a sip of her drink, holding his gaze, and he could imagine that mouth doing other things…to him. Could picture it as clear as a memory and he took a too big gulp of his espresso. Burning his mouth and coating his upper lip with foam.

She gave him a small secret smile as he cussed quietly, grabbing his napkin to wipe his mouth. Her eyes slipped away, looking down at her drink momentarily and Trunks took advantage to do some drinking in of his own. He took her in from head to toe; admiring the way the little cotton top she wore bared her arms and a tantalizing strip of her midriff. Her long legs were crossed; her full white skirt only buttoned halfway down and falling open to show a healthy portion of her shapely legs. Her pretty feet and ankles crossed by the ribbons of her sandals and she swung her foot lazily.

When Trunks finally tore his gaze from where her camisole molded itself to her pert breasts he found her watching him again. He made no show of being embarrassed or apologetic for blatantly staring at her body, he just smiled at her, leaning casually in his chair and taking a more sedate sip of his coffee. Her eyes widened slightly for a moment before he was sure that pink rose to color her cheeks, he wished he were closer to her, he was certain that with her fair coloring that blush went all the way down under her blouse.

The blonde looked away coyly and continued drinking, seeming to dismiss him. Trunks frowned after a few minutes when she hadn’t met his gaze again. Normally, he was glad to have women pay him no special attention – except when he wanted the attention of a beautiful woman. Then he wanted her undivided attention. And the blonde was truly beautiful, cool and exquisite as she sat there. Exactly his type. She burned in his vision like a star with her bright sunshine hair and her cool ocean eyes. She’d probably taste like the ocean, salty, but sweet too - like the whipped cream on her drink. He turned to see where she was looking and her eyes met his again, reflected in the glass windows of the ground floor offices nearby. So she’d been studying him as well.

He swung his head back to gaze at her directly, giving her a slow, lazy smile - full of sexual promise. The smile of a confident, handsome man who knows he’s attractive to women. He hoped his eyes held her attention, the way her beauty held his as he spoke to her silently across the expanse of the café area. Telling her everything he wanted to do with her given the opportunity at some privacy, wondering if it would be too outrageous to amble over to her table, lean down close enough to smell whatever delicious perfume she wore – and women like her always did – and ask her flat out if she wanted to go fuck in a cloud.

Dark eyelashes fluttering, she dipped her finger into the remains of her drink, scooping up some of the whipped cream that piled up at the bottom of her glass. His eyes were riveted to her every gesture, to every nuance of her as she brought her hand to her mouth and licked the cream off her finger. Her pink tongue darting out before her lips closed around the end of her finger to suck it clean. His body went rigid - lust exploding through him - as he got hard. God, if just seeing her tongue could get him started he’d probably have a heart attack if he ever saw her naked – a risk he’d be more than willing to take. Any time, any place. He closed his eyes a moment and exhaled, trying to stop himself from just crossing the room and taking the blonde’s soft hand and dragging her off someplace slightly more private…like the janitor’s closet, or the elevator. No…he needed to be subtler with this one.

He swung his gaze back in her direction to find her gone, her mostly finished drink languishing on the abandoned table. Forgetting all thoughts of playing things cool his head swiveled madly, trying to catch a glimpse of the blonde. There! He saw the end of her loose white skirt as she crossed out of sight, heading for the front doors of the building. Forgetting his last éclair and mostly untouched espresso, Trunks jumped up and pursued the blonde, quickly enough to keep her in his sights, but not enough to overtake her. He was gripped with the desire to play with this one first.

The heat and noise of West Capitol assailed him as he reached the street, the summer sun baking into the sidewalk. He was dressed appropriately for business in the cool quiet of his air-conditioned office and car, but his black suit was quickly becoming stifling. He caught sight of the blonde again across the street as she headed toward some nearby boutiques. Looking cool and fresh in her airy white skirt and camisole. Shrugging his suit jacket off he tossed it over his shoulder and wandered up his side of the street after her, pausing at a newsstand to keep pace with her when she hesitated at a flower cart. Bending over gracefully to sniff the flowers. She didn’t buy any and Trunks crossed the street when she moved on, disappearing into a boutique several doors down from the flower vendor. A burst of color greeted him from the area where the blonde had stopped as several ribbon tied bouquets filled the buckets on and around the cart.

“Can I help you, sir?” the vendor asked. Trunks smiled and nodded toward the bouquets with his chin, his free hand stuffed in the pocket of his trousers.

“Can you tell me which of these bouquets the young woman who was just here was admiring?” Trunks asked. The vendor gave Trunks a knowing grin and picked up a bouquet made up of pink, white, and yellow roses tied with a violet ribbon and handed it to Trunks.

“I believe it was this one, sir. Pink roses stand for admiration, yellow for freedom, and the white for secrecy.” The vendor told him. Trunks’ smile split his face.

“Do they now?” he chuckled, “in that case, I’ll take them.” Trunks didn’t even flinch at the outrageous price of thirty zenni, flowers had become ridiculously expensive of late, but he had money burning a hole in his pocket. Besides, he’d consider it money well spent if it got him a smile out of the blonde. Folding his suit jacket over his arm he took the wrapped bouquet from the vendor and made his way down to the boutique the blonde was shopping in.

The soft chime of the door announced Trunks’ arrival into the quiet, ultra feminine store. The walls papered in a pastel floral that would have most of the males in his acquaintance running for the hills, but he moved about the store confidently, appearing completely at home amongst the lace and frills and softly piped classical music. He didn’t see the blonde at first, and he made his way slowly toward the back of the store where the dressing rooms were, taking his time. He had no intentions of letting his prey get away from him and he paused several times along the way to admire the costly dresses. His taste in his own clothing was exceptional, and it seemed the same held true for women’s clothes as he perused the price tags with a bemused eye, not even flinching at the exorbitant prices the boutique charged. The dresses he admired were unique and well made, more than worth the three figure prices.

He was fingering the skirt of a fairly revealing black georgette evening gown when he saw her again. She was standing in front of the three-way mirror outside the dressing rooms wearing the same black dress he was admiring, the black silk sweeping and hugging every curve of her lovingly. Her eyes found him in the mirror and she raised her arms to lift the heavy mass of her wavy hair off her neck and shoulders. She held his gaze as the saleswoman attended to her, tying the laces that crisscrossed her slim back, making the bodice of the gown mold to her torso. A secret smile tugged the corners of the blonde’s mouth as she noticed what dress he was holding in his lax hand as he gaped at her.

The saleswoman excused herself to ring up a sale, leaving his blonde goddess alone before the mirror to preen. Trunks watched as she admired herself, turning this way and that to see herself in the mirror, her hands running over the silk that covered her torso and hips like she was smoothing it down. Little vixen, she was playing with him on purpose. He let his eyes have their fill of her as he circled around behind her like a shark, moving in for first contact. Waiting until she noticed that both of them were reflected in the large center glass as he hovered several feet behind her. The first thing he noticed was that her breathing had shallowed slightly, he could see it in the quick rise and fall of her breasts under the thin black silk, the second – when he caught her eyes with his – was that her pupils were dilated slightly. Her full pink lips parted and she licked them nervously. Excellent, he was starting to have an effect on her, it made having foreplay with his eyes so much better.

Trunks was about to make his move toward her, his mouth already forming the perfect compliment that would render her putty in his hands when the saleswoman returned, unknowingly cutting him off as she monopolized the blonde’s attention. Asking her about the gown and suggesting several others. Trunks gnashed his teeth silently as he sulked, his first window of opportunity blown and he glared at the back of the saleswoman with hard eyes as she led the blonde around the store. The dresses she suggested Trunks found unflattering and he scowled harder at each one. At long last they finished their circuit of the store, returning to the dressing rooms. Once again, Trunks had to endure as the blonde lifted the shining mantle of her hair and bowed her head slightly so the saleswoman could untie the dress. Offering him an unforgettable view of her slim bare back, from the nape of her neck to just below the waist, the vision burning itself into Trunks’ brain.

She tossed Trunks a bemused glance over her shoulder as she let her hair fall to cover her back, and she held the front of the gown to her breasts loosely, letting it slide a fraction lower in the back and affording Trunks an all to short-lived glimpse of the upper swell of her buttocks, just long enough for him to register that she was bare beneath the silk georgette before she disappeared into the dressing room. Trunks’ body burned, oh she was definitely hip to the little game they were playing, and he was three steps closer to the dressing room – his imagination filled with slipping into the changing room with her and pushing her up against the cubicle wall and having the most hot, intense quickie of his life – when he was again brought up short.

“Is there something I can help you with, young man?” the matronly saleswoman smiled at Trunks, blocking his advance on the dressing room. He nearly wanted to howl his frustration with the old biddy, but instead he took a deep cleansing breath, the hunt wasn’t over yet, but perhaps it was time to change the rules a little and he gave the saleswoman his most charming and winning smile. The effect the same as on every female not related to him no matter the age, she went starry eyed.

“You certainly may, “ Trunks said smoothly, “could you wrap up one of those evening gowns for me? The black silk georgette.”

The saleswoman positively jiggled with excitement, a terrifying thing to witness, because Trunks couldn’t tell whether it was over the commission she was going to receive or something else, but she clasped her doughy hands to her enormous bosom. “Of course! What size did you need?” she asked him. Trunks had to repress his sly grin; she was making it way too easy for him.

“I’m not sure exactly, it’s for my wife, but I don’t know her size…” Trunks said innocently, giving her his most ‘I am a helpless male, please take care of me’ look. The saleswoman rubbed her chins thoughtfully and Trunks made his opening gambit. “If it helps, she looks about the same size as the young woman you were just helping.” Trunks offered, rolling his tongue around in his cheek to stifle the cackle of evil laughter he could feel at the back of his throat. The saleswoman looked distressed.

“Oh dear. I believe that was the last size four I had…” the woman told him. Trunks mirrored her look of dismay.

“It’s my own fault I suppose, “ Trunks said with exaggerated martyrdom, “I waited until the last minute. It’s our anniversary today you see, and I made reservations. I wanted to surprise her…since she works so hard taking care of our four children.” Trunks was sure he was laying it on too thick, but the saleswoman was eating it up with a spoon as she nodded sympathetically with him.

“You poor thing, please, let me check in the stock room and see if I have any more. If not, I could call our other store on the east side of town; perhaps they have one left in stock.” She told him enthusiastically. Trunks all but batted his eyes at her.

“Would you mind terribly?”

Trunks’ grin widened, as the saleswoman’s ample figured bustled off to the stock room and he turned his attention back to the dressing room and the little vixen that awaited him. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt as he carefully snuck up on the dressing room, taking a quick sniff of the bouquet he still held for luck, not that he needed it. He ran a quick careless hand through his hair as he got to the flimsy slatted door of her cubicle, but before he could knock or reach for the handle, the door swung inwards and he found himself face to face with his goddess.

She was dressed again in her airy white skirt and midriff baring blue camisole. At this proximity Trunks noticed that her top was cotton eyelet and she was even more beautiful close up. Her eyes met his and before he could speak her hand shot out and grabbed him by the tie, pulling him into the closet sized dressing room with her. He shoved the door shut behind him as he pushed her up against the mirror, his mouth finding hers as he took it in a searing kiss, dropping the bouquet and his jacket to the floor so he could touch her. Her mouth was sweet like whipped cream as he tasted her, long and deep, and he plunged his hands into her thick wavy hair to cradle her head in his palms. She yielded to him with a sigh, no words needed as she molded herself to his muscular body. Parting her legs so he could stand between them and press his throbbing groin against her softness.

He came up for air reluctantly, drawing back teasingly as they panted and groped at each other. His hands were on her waist, on that bare stripe of satiny skin her top revealed before he slid them slowly up underneath the camisole, pushing it up as he moved inexorably toward her breasts. “What’s your name?” he cajoled her in a low teasing whisper, his mouth near hers sharing her breath.

Her mouth curved into a sultry smile, her fingers busy on his shirt buttons. “Does it matter?” she mocked him, tilting her face up subtly for his kiss. He groaned as her hands breached his buttons and splayed on his chest, caressing his bare flesh through his half opened shirt. His eyes darkened dangerously.

“I guess not,” he growled, claiming her mouth again aggressively, as their bodies ground together in a parody of carnality. It was amazing what the day could bring, half an hour before he’d been bored to tears in his office, now he was dry humping a beautiful, sexy blonde in a boutique dressing room. He really did lead a charmed life, and he grinned inwardly when his hands reached their goal, cupping her small breasts underneath her blouse. Her soft cupped bra nothing more than a whisper of satiny smooth fabric that kept him from feeling her nipples, and he tugged it up and out of the way impatiently. She moaned into his kiss as he rubbed his thumbs over her taut peaks, and he felt her fingers on the fly of his trousers, tugging his zipper down.

“You want me to fuck you?” Trunks purred at her, consent being a very big deal to him in his position as a business leader. Her eyes slipped half closed, her mouth twisting as she stifled her amused smile. She reached into his trousers and bypassed his boxers deftly to clasp him in her hand.

“Was I being too subtle?” she laughed quietly. She had a lovely voice, it seemed made to whisper all sorts of naughty things into the ear of her lover, and Trunks intended to be that lover, very, very soon. His hands slipped down to grip her ass as she slid her fingers over his erect cock the best she could considering the proximity of their bodies and the close quarters of the dressing stall. Trunks gathered her skirt into fistfuls as he started hurriedly pulling it up.

“Oh, Miss? Did you need any help in there? Is there anything else I can get for you to try on?” The saleswoman called from outside the cubicle. The blonde froze, her body rigid with panic against him, and Trunks swore under his breath.

“N-no, thank you. I’m just finishing up in here.” The blonde called back, her slender body shaking slightly against Trunks’, her hand gripping his cock painfully tight. His hands hadn’t quite received the new orders from his brain as he kept inching her long skirt higher and higher.

“Did you decide on the georgette?” the saleswoman asked through the door, and Trunks cursed her mentally at least five generations back. The woman seemed to have been put on Earth to torment him and he snarled silently, his face pressed to the blonde’s soft, sweet smelling hair.

“I decided to pass…” the blonde said, and Trunks groaned.

“No, no, no…” he moaned miserably, already knowing what was coming.

“Oh! In that case, please let me just pop in and grab the dress. I have another customer who was interested in this very—Oh my good gracious!” The saleswoman shrieked as she pushed the dressing room door open to find Trunks in a disheveled clinch with the blonde. There could be no mistaking what had been going on in the cubicle either. The blonde was blushing furiously, her face beet red with embarrassment as she pushed at Trunks’ chest, trying to get him off of her. Trunks gave the saleswoman his most intimidating and withering glare over his shoulder - one of the more useful things he’d inherited from his father – as he shielded the blonde from view, giving her a chance to tug her bra and top back into place, but the dowdy woman didn’t budge. She crossed her arms and met Trunks’ furious gaze with one of her own. The blonde wiggled her way around him toward the dressing room door and Trunks took his time zipping his fly before buttoning his shirt.

“You’ll be happy to know, sir…” the saleswoman said icily, “that we do have that dress you wanted for your wife, at our other store.” Trunks bared his teeth at the woman menacingly, but she was nonplussed. The blonde whipped around to face him, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“Oh no, I’d hate for you to have to go to all that trouble, please…take this one.” The blonde said in a deceptively sweet tone and handed the dress to the saleswoman, then without a backwards glance she spun on her heel and left. Trunks swore loudly when he heard the chime of the store’s front door. He scooped up his jacket and the bouquet and started after her, only to have his path blocked by the small mountain that was the saleswoman.

“About the dress…” she prodded. Trunks whipped out his wallet and carelessly flung a credit and business card in her direction. His mind totally focused on catching his quarry. He wasn’t done with her, not by a long shot.

“Charge it! Wrap it! Send it to my office!” he snapped, dodging around the woman and heading for the door, the saleswoman nipping at his heels like a hellhound.

“But, sir! What about your credit card?” she called as Trunks was halfway out the door.

“Send it along too!” Trunks shot back. He skidded to a stop on the sidewalk, his head tracking right and left for his goddess. Luckily he saw her - that sun gold hair of hers being hard to miss as she walked briskly down the street a block ahead. Trunks trotted after her, his body still hungry for her. He slowed when he got several feet behind her, admiring the way her hips swayed under her skirt.

“You forgot these,” Trunks said smoothly, falling into step with the blonde and offering her the bouquet of roses. She totally left him hanging with his hand out as she looked at the roses coolly and then lifted her nose in the air, dismissing him.

“Those aren’t mine.”

Trunks turned on the charm as he gave her his most devastating smile, and he sped up to walk backwards ahead of her. “Of course they are, I bought them for you.” He was glad to see she wasn’t totally immune to his charm as his smile brought pink to her cheeks again.

“Wouldn’t you rather give them to your wife?” she asked him sweetly, but Trunks wasn’t fooled by her honeyed tone and he gave her his most puppy-dog look, still offering her the bouquet.

“I’m sorry, I had to tell that woman something to get rid of her. And I certainly didn’t expect her to be so fiendishly fast at it. Please…” Trunks wheedled, cranking up the cute factor as he held out the roses. The blonde pulled up short, looking undecided and Trunks moved closer to her, pulled by some bizarre and unnatural gravity well that seemed to dictate that his personal space must include her. “These were the ones you wanted, weren’t they?”

Hesitantly, she nodded and reached out and took the bouquet from him. “Thank you, they’re lovely,” she murmured, her eyes lowered demurely. His intentions stated and accepted to his way of thinking, he leaned down and kissed her full on the lips, in the middle of the sidewalk in full view of greater West Capitol. Her lips parted in surprise and Trunks took advantage, deepening their kiss as he swept his tongue lazily through her mouth like he had all the time in the world. She swayed slightly on her feet when he drew back, falling toward him and he slipped an arm around her slender waist to steady her.

“Come walk with me for a bit first,” Trunks told her in an amused tone, keeping his arm around her waist as he steered her down the street with him.

“First?” she questioned archly. Trunks gave her a positively lascivious smile and slid his fingers down to caress the swell of her hip, then leaned closer to her putting his lips near her ear.

“I’m going to be inside of you before the hour is out,” Trunks stated matter of factly, then stopped at a snack stand while the blonde gaped at him in shock, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. Trunks bit the inside of his cheek again as he casually ordered two orange sodas, then on a whim picked up a small red box of strawberry cream Pocky.

“Is that so?” she said when she finally found her voice. Trunks made a show of checking his watch as he waited for the cashier to ring him up.

“It’s almost thirty past the hour now, what do you think? Too conservative in my estimate?” he teased her. After paying, he turned back to the blonde and handed her one of the sodas. She took it from him automatically and Trunks tucked the candy into his pocket and took her arm, leading her toward the small park near the Capsule Corporation building.

“You’re arrogant,” she informed him, sipping her drink. Trunks grinned; turning his face up to the sun and letting it bake in. He felt good, better than he had all day and he put his arm around her slim shoulders possessively.

“I prefer confident,” he replied, looking back at her. They passed into the park, the traffic noise diminishing as they moved away from the urban congestion, the sounds of birds and the breeze through the leaves of the trees taking over.

“Overconfident, maybe.”

“I see no reason not to be,” he told her, leading her to a quiet bench under a shade tree. She tried to put some distance between their bodies when she sat, but Trunks pulled her up tight against his side. Setting his suit jacket over the back of the bench.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you no before?” she questioned. Trunks pulled the Pocky box out of his pocket before answering. He didn’t want to melt the candy, even though they were in the shade the day was warm…and so was he.

“Not so far,” he chuckled, opening the candy and offering it to her. She took the package from him grudgingly and pulled out several of the slender pink-coated sticks and crunched on them. Trunks watched her eat the candy with much the same pleasure as he’d gleaned from watching her drink her coffee earlier. Fascinated with the way her lips moved, fantasizing about how they’d feel wrapped around his cock.

“Perhaps I should be the first then,” she said when she’d finished, and panic gripped him. He hid it well though under a layer of forced coolness and he favored her with another lazy, sexy smile.

“Too late for that now,” he said. Her eyebrow rose at him.

“Are you planning on dragging me off into those bushes to accost me again?” she asked him. Trunks leaned toward her predatorily, backing her up to her end of the bench and knocking her poor roses off the seat to fall to the ground again.

“Again? I believe it was you that pulled me into that dressing room was it not?” Trunks purred, brushing his lips over the wispy curls at her temple.

“I had a momentary lapse…” she started, but he silenced her with a quiet laugh. He ran his fingers through her hair, pulling the long spiral curls straight, nearly to her hips before letting them go to bounce back up and cover her shoulders and arms, like a mantle.

“Not you,” he laughed softly, disbelievingly, “you’re not the type to ever lose control…and it was my office, not the bushes.”

“I beg your pardon?”

He grinned again at her indignant tone and pulled her into his lap to straddle it, she winced at the feel of the hard wood biting into her shins, but Trunks was quick to support most of her weight and ease the discomfort, almost before her skirt was through billowing down to cover them. “Wait until I do something worthy of begging,” he chuckled. “I was planning on taking you back to my office to fuck you, but your skirt is full enough…we could do it right here,” he teased her in a low voice. Crimson stained her cheeks as she gripped his shoulders for balance.

“Arrogance!” she gasped, and Trunks reached between them to find the bottom button of her skirt and he undid it with a lazy flick of his fingers.

“Confidence,” he corrected. Another button undone.

“You’re bold, you presume too much,” she told him hotly, her hair falling around them to enclose their faces in a bright golden cocoon. Trunks let his eyes do most of the talking as they held hers and he undid another two buttons before actually speaking, not that she noticed.

“I prefer direct,” he said lazily and lifted his chin, angling for her to kiss him. “And you are still here, “ he pointed out, amused when her lips parted and her eyes stared at his mouth, her skirt unbuttoned to her belly now and while she was distracted he reached under the skirt to touch her intimately. Skimming his fingers over her mound, sealed tight by her smooth silky panties.

She licked her lips nervously. “Rude…” she whispered, Trunks could sense her weakening and he repressed his grin of victory only through sheer will. He held her above him by the ribcage, taking all of her weight off her legs as effortlessly as if she weighed nothing more than a feather, which to him she didn’t, and he brought her closer until their lips nearly touched, her hair tickling him as it covered his head and shoulders.

“Yeah, but you love it,” he breathed and kissed her before she could respond. He slouched on the bench, letting her torso rest on his as he pulled her tightly against him, folding his arms around her waist as he explored her sweet mouth. Her tongue dueled with his, thrusting and caressing just as ardently as his did. Where before she had been receptive, now she was taking a bit of initiative, holding his face between her palms as she kissed him over and over, until he was as panting and breathless as she was. He thrust his hips up to grind his hardness against her and she pushed back down into him, her eyes closing. He wanted to lay her down on the sun dappled grass and fill her with himself, to take her hard and fast. Then later, once he had his control back, he would slow things down to hold back his orgasms and ride her for hours. It sounded like a lovely way to spend the evening to him, and he wondered if she had plans. And then chuckled to himself…she did now.

“I like your hair,” he said when she opened her eyes; pleased to find them glazed with desire. He smoothed her wild curls down over her shoulders innocently as he brushed his palms over the taut nipples poking up through her top as he covered them with her hair. She gave him a crooked smile, wise to his seemingly innocent caresses.

“Yeah? I just had it done,” she told him, “I can’t wash it yet, so it’s a little bit wild.”

Trunks smirked, tracing one finger down her face, over her straight nose to rest on her full bottom lip. “Like you’re a little bit wild?” he teased her, his smirk deepening to a grin and he kept going, over her chin and down the center of her chest, past the silky softness of her bare stomach all the way down to where her skirt was split. “I like it wild…I can’t wait to feel it sliding all over my bare skin…” he said softly.

“There you go again…” she said shakily, her thighs trembling with awareness that his hand was right there, just waiting. Trunks gave her a sly look, inching his fingers closer to the gusset of her panties and tracing the elastic edge at her inner thigh lightly.

“Too forward? If you’d rather I could just do what I’m thinking, rather than talking about it, which would be more than fine with me, but would probably get us arrested.” He informed her. She hissed in her breath as she felt the heat of his hand so close to her core, and Trunks’ playful expression melted away until his eyes burned into hers, his face intense with lust.

“Are you wet for me? Are you as ready for me as I am for you? Because I’m not sure I can wait to fuck you much longer,” he growled. She bit her lower lip and Trunks felt the muscles of her inner thighs quiver in response to him. He yanked the crotch of her panties to the side and dipped his middle finger into her cleft, coating it with her abundant moisture. “You are…” he exhaled, amazed.

“Nnnn…” she moaned quietly, trying not to writhe on his lap and call attention to them. “Not here,” she managed to get out, just as he was reaching for the fly of his trousers, greater populace of West Capitol be damned.

“My office,” he said immediately. It wasn’t a question and he stood quickly, setting her on her feet. She was leaning over to button her skirt back down to a respectable point when he grabbed her wrist, flipping his suit jacket over his shoulder and all but dragging her after him. She didn’t complain however, as she trotted to keep up with him.

He slowed when she tripped over an uneven patch of concrete and nearly fell, realizing there was no sense hauling her back to his office like he was some caveman, dragging his woman back to his furs by her hair. She was as eager for it as he was, he could tell by her bright eyes and quick breath. No, she was keeping up with him just fine, in fact if he dawdled she’d probably drag him along by the hair, and the mental image made him chuckle softly.

She tipped a sideways look at him, but didn’t comment. He laced his fingers with hers, holding her hand rather than hanging onto her by the wrist like a recalcitrant child. Her fingers gripped his tightly as they hurried along and when he glanced over at her again he noticed two high spots of color on her cheeks.

“Is it much farther?” she questioned, and Trunks jerked his chin ahead of them as they came around the corner. The huge white dome of Capsule Corporation Headquarters was visible over the other buildings that surrounded it. From the top of the dome a tall tubular spire rose to tower over most of West Capitol’s downtown.

“My office is up there,” Trunks told her, pointing to the rounded and glassy top of the spire.

“It’s rather phallic,” she informed him dryly. Trunks squeezed her hand, another wild grin splitting his handsome face.

“Well, I am the ‘head’ of the company…”

She laughed then, throwing her head back and Trunks watched her with lust filled eyes, drinking in her beauty. Her laughter didn’t lighten the intensity of what he was feeling - if anything it sharpened it - and he was more impatient than ever to get her naked and underneath him. His body strongly seconding the sentiment and he took both of her hands in his, coaxing her along as he walked backwards. Tears of mirth streaming down her face.

“Come on…” he urged in a whisper, trying his best not to spook her with his fervor. He’d heard before that he could be a bit overwhelming in situations like these, and the last thing he wanted to do was scare her off. She pulled a hand out of his to wipe her eyes, still giggling, but let him lead her quickly on to the Capsule Corporation building.

He made sure they had the elevator to themselves and he stood behind her as the glass elevator rose up the outside of the spire toward his office, trapping her between the handrail and his body. He was considering asking her if she wanted him to take her there, to just hit the emergency stop on the elevator, bend her over the handrail and go for it. He wrapped his arms around her waist tightly from behind and rested his head against hers as he imagined how she would look, fingers splayed on the glass for leverage, her back arched and her stance wide as he drove into her. Ah…every fantasy he was having about her was turning out to include nothing but intense animalistic sex. God, he couldn’t wait.

“Oh no!” she cried suddenly, and his stomach lurched. He lifted his face from her hair to see she had her nose nearly pressed to the window, her hands flat against the glass, like in his fantasy.

“What is it?” he croaked, holding her tighter against him, pressing his hardness against the cleft of her bottom. Thank Dende for baggy trousers or he was going to be in some big trouble around the office if anyone saw him. She twisted around in his arms to face him, her face distressed.

“I forgot my flowers, the ones you bought for me… I left them in the park.”

He breathed a sigh of relief that it was something so minor. “I’ll buy you more, I’ll buy you the whole damn cart if you want,” he mumbled, drowning in the clear blue of her eyes. For a moment he wondered if she’d take the route most women did and insist that it wouldn’t be the same, and that he must fetch her that very bouquet to ensure her future satisfaction with the world, but she didn’t. She surprised him when she laid her palm against his cheek, her cat like eyes lazy and sultry.

“No need, they served their purpose. You got the message.”

His lips were together as he began to speak, but she didn’t let him, changing before his very eyes into the sexy vixen who’d pulled him into the changing room with her earlier as she tugged his head down to hers with a hand on the back of his neck. Her mouth already open as it met his, bypassing all subtlety in favor of need as their lips and tongues met in a clash. He crushed her to him and took a step forward, forcing her up and onto the handrail as he moved to stand between her legs. His hands underneath her bottom and he pressed her back against the glass wall of the elevator with his tongue down her throat.

The blonde’s fingers gripped the expensive blue fabric of his shirt in fistfuls, pulling it tight over his muscled shoulders. Her hands opening and closing convulsively, like she was kneading him. He gripped her by the backs of the thighs, pulling her legs up to wrap around his hips and pushing her skirt up so he could touch her silky thighs, her belly, her hips…

“This is how I wanted to take you in that dressing room,” Trunks rasped in her ear roughly, his fingers pulling the damp crotch of her panties aside again to expose her. She made a small noise of dismay, wriggling in his arms when she heard the sound of his zipper. She was like a tiny lion, fierce as she struggled to get him to stop - to wait until they got into his office. The elevator dinged the arrival at Trunks’ floor just as he was pressing the head of his cock to her soft wet opening. This couldn’t be happening, how many times could he be thwarted in one day? He pulled back from her quickly; straightening his clothing in the time it took the elevator to come to a complete stop.

“Goddammit all to fucking hell!” he snarled when the doors took their sweet time opening, which with how turned on he was he could have fucked her twice by the time the sensors registered. The blonde stood beside him, biting her lip softly to hide her smile.

“Language…” she clucked, amused. Trunks turned on her, his eyes narrowing that she was possibly laughing at him. Especially when she was the one who put him in this condition.

“Pick one,” he snapped, “it doesn’t sound any better in Saiyan.” The blonde wisely held her tongue at that remark, the warning clear in his eyes. He inhaled slowly, trying to calm himself down as he noticed the wariness in her face as she watched him. He was being too intense again, but he wanted her so much, he was being consumed by it. The elevator doors opened, but Trunks paid them no mind, just kept looking deeply into his goddess’ eyes. He was afraid he’d just made some grave irreparable error in the last minute and he’d do anything to erase it.

Lowering his head slowly, and giving her all the time in the world to move away from him, Trunks kissed her gently, a tender kiss, full of apology and reverence. “I’m sorry,” he whispered against her lips. “But I just don’t think I can be slow or gentle, I want you that bad.” he told her regretfully. Her expression was unreadable, but she took his hand and held it.

“I don’t need it to be slow or gentle,” she replied, and his body burned even hotter making him groan low in his throat. “Just in private.”

Trunks blew out his breath in relief and nodded, dutifully chagrined. Gathering up his abused suit jacket he graciously allowed her to precede him off the elevator, his manners making an appearance at last. They walked silently down the hall, past conference rooms and the break room toward his office. It was remarkably quiet and still, his calls being held by the switchboard downstairs since his secretary was out.

He’d just unlocked his office door and swung it in, allowing the blonde to enter before him when he heard the last thing a man in his current state would ever want to hear…the strident voice of his mother.

“Trunks! A minute!” she called loudly. Trunks pulled the door to his office shut quickly, hoping his mother hadn’t seen the blonde. He gritted his teeth a moment, asking Dende for strength, before he forced a pleasant expression onto his face and turned to face his mother. Bulma made her way down the hall like a steamroller, her eyebrows snapped down as she glowered at him.

“Yeah, Mom? What is it?” he asked her, putting his suit jacket back on, not only for something to do, but to hide the fact that he was aroused. Baggy pants nothing…mothers had a sort of sick sixth sense about these kinds of things, and he really didn’t want to go there. He wanted to disappear into his – locked - office and spend the rest of the afternoon playing with his little conquest.

“How many times have I told you not to skip out on senior level management meetings? You missed today’s, you missed last week’s, and—“ she said with raised voice, cutting off any protest he may want to raise, “you missed the one on the seventh.”

“But today’s was—“ Trunks started helplessly, looking at his watch. Bulma looked smug and folded her arms.

“Over five minutes ago,” Bulma informed him. “Where is your secretary?” she snapped, looking around for someone to blame. Trunks made a soothing gesture, holding his palms out toward his mother.

“It’s not her fault, Mom. She had a doctor’s appointment today, and she did remind me. I just stepped out for a short walk and lost track of time. I’m really sorry. I swear it won’t happen again.” Trunks said earnestly. Bulma’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. Trunks was never this quick to admit he was wrong or apologize. Then Bulma noticed that they were still standing in the reception area of his office outside his closed door.

“Are you feeling all right, Trunks?” Bulma asked him, noting his tense and pinched expression. Trunks forced another smile for her.

“Just a bit of a headache, Mom. That’s why I went out for some air,” Trunks lied smoothly. Bulma’s angry expression melted away to concern. Saiyan’s were never sick; she hoped he wasn’t coming down with something.

“You don’t have a fever…” Bulma said, placing one wrist on Trunks’ forehead and the other on her own to compare. Sure I do, Mom. I’m burning up, he thought. “Maybe you should go lie down for a little while on your couch.” Bulma was saying, still fussing over him. Certain something must be wrong with him due to the way his eyes widened and he almost choked.

“Good idea, I think I’ll do that,” he told her, and waited.

Bulma didn’t move, just looked up at him expectantly. “Well?” she said impatiently when Trunks made no move to enter his office. Now she wasn’t sure if it wasn’t something he’d eaten, because he was starting to look decidedly odd, like he might lose his lunch or something. Maybe she should call Vegeta and ask.

“’Well”, what?” Trunks repeated. Looking worse by the minute. Bulma gave a long-suffering sigh and reached around him and opened his office door. Trunks let out a ragged breath as Bulma tugged him by the arm into his cool and spacious office. He acted like he expected a goblin to jump out at him and Bulma clucked at him soothingly, helping him off with his jacket. He gasped when she opened the coat closet door to hang up his suit jacket – really, he should take better care of his things – and she looked over her shoulder at him to see he was quite pale. She frowned to herself as she hung up the jacket. Maybe she was working him too hard.

She ruffled his bangs with her fingers briefly when she returned to him, trying to smile encouragingly. Trunks swallowed – gulped more like it – his eyes shifting around restlessly. The poor dear, he probably didn’t want to show how bad he really felt. Vegeta was that way too. She untied his tie with brisk precision, before unbuttoning the top three buttons of his shirt. Trunks stilled her busy hands with his own, crimson staining his cheeks.

“I can undress myself, Mom, thanks…”

Bulma was amused by his embarrassment and couldn’t resist teasing him. “Now, Trunks…” she chided, “just because you’re thirty doesn’t mean you’re not still my baby. Who do you think changed your diaper?” she laughed. Now Trunks was definitely looking ill, red-faced and sweating. “Trunks! I think you should lie down,” Bulma fussed, taking his arm and leading him to the deep leather couch that lined one wall of his office.

Trunks sat down gratefully, he wasn’t sure he could handle many more scares. He’d been certain that the blonde would have been in the coat closet and discovered, but only empty hangers had graced the interior of the tiny closet. Where was she? Not to mention his mortification that she had almost definitely heard his mother’s remark about changing his diaper, just the sort of thing one wants the woman they were about to bed to hear. It made him sound so very manly. His mouth twisted with displeasure at how things were proceeding, and it was only through sheer will that he didn’t toss his hovering and fretting mother off of him bodily.

His stomach churned with panic when Bulma went into his washroom, but she came back out directly with a cool washcloth for his head, even though that wasn’t the part of him that was aching. “Mom, please…” he pleaded when she all but forced him to lie down, laying the cool cloth on his forehead. “I’ll be fine,” he urged. Bulma at last seemed to get the hint that he wanted her to go.

“All right, son. Just lie down for a little while and see if you feel better, if not you go home,” she admonished, wagging her finger at him. She leaned over and brushed his bangs off his forehead to kiss him, making Trunks feel like he was thirteen, rather than thirty. Nothing could emasculate a man faster than being babied by his mother, especially within earshot of a beautiful woman, but Trunks bore it stoically, eager to have her gone.

Bulma had barely cleared the doorjamb; the door clicking shut behind her before Trunks was up off the couch like a shot, launching himself at the door to lock it. He wanted to take his ki and melt the door lever, to take every piece of furniture in his office and build a barricade that no one – well, no one in the building at that particular moment – could breach. He wanted no more interruptions, no more distractions… And Dende help anyone who tried to breach his fortress of solitude. He rested his forehead against the door for a moment, breathing a sigh of relief that he was finally alone with his goddess behind a locked door when he felt slender arms wrap around his waist from behind and he smelled her sweet subtle perfume.

Trunks turned in her arms to face her, a delighted grin splitting his handsome face. “Hey,” he said softly, “there you are…” She smiled up at him, mischief crinkling the corners of her eyes.

“I hid in your shower, I had a feeling it was probably better if I wasn’t seen.” She told him. Trunks flattened his hands on her slender back, feeling the warmth of her, and the play of muscle over bone as he stroked her spine from neck to waist.

“Sorry about that,” he said, chagrined. But the blonde shrugged her shoulders and smiled again.

“Don’t worry about it, mothers will be…well…mothers.” She laughed, raising her arms to circle his neck and pressing her chest to his. He raised an eyebrow at her, but she kept smiling at him in that way that made his stomach get all twitchy. He couldn’t quite figure her out, first she was aggressive, then prickly, then teasing…what would she be next?

“You’re being awfully…friendly,” Trunks said, a grin tugging the corners of his mouth when her hands smoothed down from his shoulders to unbutton his dress shirt slowly. Her mouth curved into a smug smile as she looked up at him through her lashes, her palms parting his shirt to feel his sculpted chest.

“We’re alone now,” she pointed out, pushing his unbuttoned shirt over his broad shoulders and down his arms until it pooled at his wrists, the cuffs still buttoned. Trunks held his wrists out to her so she could unbutton them, but she raised an eyebrow at him playfully. “I thought a big boy like you could undress himself, isn’t that right?” she teased him.

Rather than be embarrassed by the reference to his mother removing his tie and unbuttoning his collar, Trunks upped the cute factor again. Knowing the instant it started working on her by the way her lips parted, her eyes caught in his. “It’s better when you do it,” he said huskily. She swallowed and dropped her eyes to his cuffs, her fingers not as steady now as she unbuttoned them. He’d thought his good looks were a curse when he was younger, finding it a nuisance when girls followed him around and fell all over themselves for his attention. Now he saw it as a weapon, that when used judiciously and in the right amounts could yield outstanding results.

He shrugged his shirt off impatiently once his cuffs were loosened, eager to get his hands on her exquisite little body next. “My turn,” he murmured to her, tracing his fingertips down over her cheekbones to her pointed little chin. Smiling, as she swayed slightly closer to him when his fingers drifted down, over her collarbones and the upper swell of her breasts to the buttons of her camisole. With a seductive slowness Trunks opened her top by feel, since she had her head lowered to watch what his fingers were doing keenly. He tipped her face back up to his with a finger under her chin when he’d freed the last button, her top falling open to expose her. Her lips were soft and velvety, her mouth sweet and clinging as he kissed her, sliding the camisole off her shoulders to fall to the floor. That tiny whisper of a bra she wore following quickly after – once he figured out that it hooked in the front.

Her breasts were high and firm, barely filling his palms when he cupped them in his hands, topped with sensitive pebble hard nipples that poked impudently at him. Demanding attention. Her mouth opened with a little gaspy groan when he flicked his thumbs over the pert nubs teasingly before slowing down to circle them lazily. She liked that - her breasts were incredibly sensitive he noted, and it made him wonder what her reaction would be if he put his mouth on them. Gripping her by the armpits, Trunks picked her straight up, lifting her as if she weighed no more than an infant as he brought her breasts to his face. Her startled gasp and panicked grab for his shoulders making him smirk. She was so slender, her back and ribcage seemed no more substantial than that of a bird’s. Her slight weight negligible to him despite the awkward position he held her in. All that mattered to him in that moment was the taste of her tangy skin, the feel of her nipple against his tongue, and the soft quiet groans she gave in the back of her throat. The spiraling golden waves of her soft hair spread over his shoulders and arms as she bent her head to watch what he was doing.

Seized by an idea, Trunks pulled her closer, into his arms as he held her off the ground and tight to his chest. Without being told she slung her arms around his shoulders, curious as to what he was about. Trunks carried her over to his desk and sat in his soft leather chair, settling her in his lap. She watched him curiously as he gathered her hair up in his hands, pushing it off her shoulders until the mass of it fell down her back, leaving her exposed from the waist up to him. He then pulled one long curl from the bulk, a lock from just below her ear and smoothed it between his fingers. Trunks made a show of holding the curl between his index and middle fingers and rubbing the end with his thumb like a little brush.

“What are you--?” she started, but Trunks shushed her with a little kiss.

“Shhhhhh…” he murmured, “watch…”

Holding the curl brush between his fingers he painted little imaginary patterns on her skin, tracing the hollows above her collarbones and the small valley between her breasts. Her eyes were big and round and her lips parted by the time he brushed the soft curl over the tips of her breasts lightly, making her arch her back into his caresses. Her hair walking that fine line between sensual and tickling as he teased her. She squirmed in his lap, her soft bottom rubbing against his cock torturously. The interruption with his mother seemed to be a blessing in disguise as it gave him a few minutes to calm down. He no longer felt like he was going to revert to a drooling, raving idiot if he didn’t have her immediately impaled on him. He’d gained back some of his control, thank Dende, since he didn’t want it to be over so fast he seemed little better than a untried schoolboy. How embarrassing would that be? Still, the bump and rub of her against him wasn’t doing much to help him keep that control.

Shifting in his lap to face him more, the blonde surprised him by leaning against him. Her breasts pressed to his chest and she pulled her hair forward, over her shoulders to brush over his skin. It was like sweet smelling silk as the blonde took handfuls of her hair to rub sensuously against his chest. “You wanted to feel it sliding over your bare skin…remember?” she purred, her face close to his. Trunks gave an appreciative groan, especially when her fingers found his nipples and she rubbed them with her soft tresses. He tilted his head, bringing his chin forward to kiss her again. Her mouth was so sweet and soft; he just couldn’t get enough of tasting her. She seemed to melt into his embrace as he explored her mouth, her arms circling his neck and she pressed her little torso against his muscular one tightly.

Trunks groaned again softly when the blonde began taking the initiative in their kiss, rubbing her tongue against the roof of his mouth, catching his lower lip between her teeth and sucking on it until it popped free. What an enigma she was, shy and insistent all at once.

“Was there anything else you wanted to feel sliding over your bare skin?” she asked him when she let his lips go, her eyes sparkling at him. Trunks smirked, delighted that she’d decided to play after all and he took one of her breasts in his hand again, teasing the sensitive bud with his thumb mercilessly.

“Only every inch of your naked body,” he whispered back, his hand sliding down from her breast over her ribs lightly to the waistband of her skirt. Her eyes held his, and he could see the conflict in their aqua depths as he unbuttoned her skirt slowly, his eyes never leaving hers, reassuring her, persuading her. He lifted her off of his lap, her skirt sliding away from her body to the floor as Trunks set her gently on his desk in front of him. Kicking the white puddle of fabric out of the way so he wouldn’t step on it as he gazed up at her rapturously. She was clad only in her silky; nearly see through panties and sandals. The ribbons that held them on wrapped around her slender ankles demurely.

Trunks wanted to dive at her, to yank those skimpy panties off her slender hips and see every inch of her, wet with wanting him. Instead, he picked up her foot and slowly tugged at the ribbon of her shoe, propping her foot against his thigh after he pulled her sandal off to toss aside. He repeated the action with her other foot; setting it down on his other thigh so her legs were bent. Gazing at her breasts, her flat belly and her slim hips, he slid his hands up and down her calves gently, knowing enough about women to know they appreciated being touched everywhere, not just in the fun zones, and a little effort expended here could reap him splendid results later in those fun zones. Trunks tilted his head back lazily to look up at her face, leaning back in his big leather chair indolently.

The sun shone through the window behind Trunks brightly, bathing the blonde in its brilliance. Most women, Trunks had found, had small flaws and imperfections that they hid from the bright light of day. A few extra pounds, a freckle or mole here or there, but the blonde before him was…perfect. Almost unnaturally so, her petite frame slender, yet curvy in all the places he liked, like her hips and bottom. The sunlight shimmered in her hair, picking out glints of purest gold, like a treasure. She was a treasure, the most beautiful girl he’d ever come across. Her face, when his eyes came to rest there, wore the most unusual expression.

“What?”

She blushed in response and lowered her eyelashes a bit. “You…the way you’re sitting there with the light behind you…” she murmured, “you’re very handsome.” She finished shyly, nearly whispering. Trunks let his pleased grin split his face, giving in to his masculine pride that she found him attractive, but trying not to wallow in it too much. He didn’t want to appear vain. He rested one hand on his washboard stomach lazily, thrilled when her eyes followed the motion.

“You think so?” he asked modestly, but she was already wise to him again. She seemed to have the uncanny ability to read him like a book and she smiled crookedly. Trunks found the expression quirky and endearing, it made his goddess more accessible.

“You know you’re hot. You don’t need me to tell you have an amazing body,” she informed him. Trunks’ grin was threatening to turn into a leer, but he managed to tone it down just in time. He put both hands on his abs, stroking his stomach lightly and circling down toward the waistband of his black trousers.

“Would you like to see more of it?” he asked her huskily, sitting up in the chair slowly. She tipped her head to the side playfully, that engaging grin of hers still playing around her lips and she leaned back slightly onto her hands.

“Too subtle again, huh?”

In a heartbeat Trunks was on his feet, his mouth swallowing her amused chuckle as he kissed her passionately. He plunged his hands into her thick hair, cradling her fragile skull in his hands. Her hands on his waist tugged him closer, pulling him to the edge of the desk between her knees. He shuddered slightly under her hands like a racehorse as she traced his ribs and the muscles of his back with her fingertips.

“Undress for me,” she whispered, pulling back from his devouring kiss. “I want to see all of you.”

Trunks wasted no time as he swiftly undid his belt and trousers, shoving them and his boxers off his hips impatiently and kicking them away, along with his shoes and socks. Her eyes widened and darkened as he stood an arms length away from her silently, letting her get a good long look at him. He could feel her gaze sliding over him as vividly as her touch as she drank him in slowly from head to toe. Her cheeks belied the brazenness of her eyes as they turned bright red. He kept his arms at his sides, his hands curled into loose fists in order to keep them to himself. He’d never had a woman’s lingering appraisal of his body affect him so completely. But he couldn’t move as her eyes came to rest on his cock and didn’t stray. She was hypnotic.

Hesitantly, she extended her hand to touch him, her fingertips brushing over the chiseled plane of his abdomen just above his navel. That shy caress breaking the enchantment she had him under and he moved, resting his hands on her knees he bent forward at the waist so his face was level with hers. He didn’t kiss her, just drank her in. Her wide cat like blue eyes, her wavy honey colored hair, her flawless porcelain complexion – her cheeks still stained faintly pink - the deep rose of her lips…she was exquisite.

“You’re so beautiful,” Trunks whispered, taking her face in his hand. He brushed his lips over hers in the most feather light of caresses, tickling her lips and making them tingle. She brought her hand up, rubbing her lips to stop the lingering prickle. Trunks grinned, finding the action rather charming. He loved that he seemed to have such an effect on her. He couldn’t wait to make her his and his fingers went to her hips, hooking in the sides of her silky skimpy panties. “Remember what I said to you earlier? At the snack cart?” He murmured to her, his sapphire eyes holding hers as he slowly started working her panties off, no mean feat considering she was seated, but she wiggled in a most helpful - and painfully arousing to witness up close - manner.

He felt her hands on his wrists and he wasn’t sure if she was trying to help him, or stop him, but he gave neither any heed as he slid her panties off her lower legs and tossed them aside. His lust and impatience were back in full force now that he had her exactly where he wanted her, naked and alone. Trunks could smell the subtle perfume of her desire, making his body hunger for hers. She gave a little shake of her head to his question; her eyes big as he slipped his hands sensually up her thighs toward her hidden self. Her fingers gripping his wrists again as her lips parted, she seemed to sense the change coming over him from playful to predatory.

“I said I’d be inside you before the hour was out,” he purred, spreading her legs as he moved between them. She was far back from the edge, sprawled with open thighs as she gaped at him, speechless. He couldn’t help but grin as he hooked his hands behind her knees and started pulling her slowly and relentlessly closer to the edge of the desk. She looked completely flustered, spread wide and being drawn inexorably toward his cock. “Come here, my little vixen,” Trunks crooned, “let’s finish what we started…”

“I-I…” she stammered, her hands fluttering like little birds as Trunks moved her into the position that he wanted. The sexual tension in the air and coursing over his skin was nearly making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. “I’m not so sure we…” she paused to lick her lips nervously as he stared at her, trying not to look as desperate as he felt. “I mean…I…can’t believe we’re doing this…” she gasped out, bracing her small hands on his chest. Trunks silenced her stammers with a kiss, drowning out her protest with desire and her eyes were glazed again when he drew back. She parted her lips again, like she would say something, but Trunks laid a finger gently against her full lower lip.

“Shhhhh…” he hushed, “Don’t break the spell, or the magic will be lost,” he murmured to her gently.

“Magic? What magic?” she breathed, lifting her eyes to his slowly. Trunks smiled, that arrangement of teeth and lips that had devastated countless women ever since he hit puberty, and the blonde was not immune he was pleased to note. He pulled her even closer until she was perched right on the edge of the desk where he wanted her, his stiff length brushing her damp curls as he leaned toward her and nibbled on that lusciously full lower lip of hers.

“The magic that brought you to me. I didn’t even know that I needed you until I looked up, and there you were. Sipping that frothy whatever it was—“

“Hot chocolate,” she supplied, and Trunks kissed her again. He liked her flushed and delirious with passion and he kept it up until she was sufficiently dazzled again.

“Whatever, but I knew from the moment I saw you downstairs that you’d end up in my arms.” Trunks told her, slipping his hand between their bodies to test her readiness for him. She gave a little mewling gasp of mixed surprise and pleasure as Trunks stroked her intimately.

“I-It was serendipity…just blind luck that I was in that coffee shop at the right tim—“ she said breathlessly, but Trunks silenced her with his kiss again. Distracting her as he scooped up her dangling legs and draped them over his elbows, nudging the tip of himself gently between her slick folds. Her fingers dug into his shoulders.

“It was magic,” Trunks insisted, and forced his way inside her with one long, relentless push. She was deliciously tight and hot, her sheath soft and wet as he thrust his hips forward to bury himself as deep as he could go. He held her hips in his hands, steadying her as he bent her legs up and back leaving her wide open and defenseless to his sensual onslaught. He groaned low in his throat, his eyes holding hers as he drew back and thrust deep again. “Feels…amazing,” he told her.

She licked her lower lip, almost nervously. “I bet you say that to…oh!” she gasped, when his cock rubbed a certain sensitive spot inside of her making her eyes cross…literally. “All…the…girls,” she finally managed to huff out, her body rocking against his as he set an aggressive and demanding pace.

Trunks didn’t answer, just grinned at her and buried his face in her throat, nipping and nuzzling her tender skin as he drove in and out of her tight body. Her head fell back, all that thick, gorgeous hair tumbling down her back to cover her hips. The silky curls sliding over his hands as he clasped her bottom, tilting her hips so he could angle his thrusts to give her the most pleasure. He loved the sound of her little pants and soft cries in his ear. Loved the way the delicate little muscles deep inside her sheath clung and hugged him tightly. She was red hot.

He knew when she was getting close, her fingers and sheath clutching at him, almost desperate as she whined softly. The pressure building and building. He waited until she was almost there…and then he stopped. Pulling out of her completely. Her eyes popped open.

“Not yet,” Trunks purred at her. She looked confused, stunned, and almost annoyed.

“Whu—“

Trunks smirked, pulling her off the desk to stand before him and he cupped her breasts in his hands. Noticing the way she clenched her thighs together. “You’ll come when I let you come,” Trunks told her. Her eyebrows shot down and then she definitely looked irritated with him. But he simply took her hand, smiling as he pulled her with him toward his couch. “Trust me, it’ll be worth it.”

He pulled the thick leather seat cushions off the couch and onto the plush carpet of his office floor and guided the blonde to them. Urging her to lie down on the makeshift bed he’d made for them. She raised an eyebrow at him, but complied. Lying back on the black leather with her hair fanned out around her. Trunks almost couldn’t catch his breath he found the simple sight so erotic, and he just gazed down on her with smoldering eyes. She squirmed restlessly on the cushion, biting that full lower lip again.

“Are you trying to get away, or come closer? “ He asked falling to his knees over her, propping his hands and knees on the carpet around the cushion she was lying on. With a somewhat mischievous and sultry look she rolled underneath him like a cat until she was lying on her stomach on the thick leather cushion. Arching her back she pressed her bottom up toward him, giving him her answer. Trunks needed no further invitation and he adjusted himself so her legs were outside of his. His body tightening painfully when she spread her legs wide for him with no urging or coaxing on his part.

Propping himself with one hand, Trunks guided his glistening erection back to her wet sheath with the other. Groaning in satisfaction as the new position allowed him even deeper penetration. He was in absolute heaven as he felt the head of his cock press against the mouth of her womb, filling her completely. She dipped her spine, arching her head and bottom back into him, pushing back to meet him as he began thrusting into her.

“This is how I wanted to take you on the elevator,” Trunks purred, his lips against her hair near her ear as he curved his body over her smaller one. “Just lift your skirt and lean you over the railing…” She turned her head to the side, trying to see him out of the corner of her wide eye and he took advantage. Using his free hand to stroke the long column of her neck as he tipped her head back and farther to the side to kiss her as best he could.

“B-but…the elevator is glass!” she gasped incredulously. Trunks chuckled against her cheek, even as he kept slowly pistoning into her. She changed like quicksilver from bold to shy in the space of a heartbeat. It intrigued him to know which she would be next.

��Yeah, we’d have steamed it up pretty good, too,” he said, laughing quietly. She dropped her head and upper body away from him, leaning on her elbows and letting her hair cover her face. Trunks was almost positive that if he lifted that veil of gold her face would be burning red with embarrassment. He followed her down, propping himself so his chest rested lightly against her back and he pulled her hair away from her blushing face and smiled. “Do you want to know all the other places I’ve thought about fucking you in this afternoon? That dressing room, the park…” Trunks teased her, his lips against her shell shaped ear and his free hand cupping her breast as he kept up his languid thrusting.

She made an odd squeaking moan, the muscles of her sheath and thighs tightening and Trunks stopped again, waiting until the moment passed. The blonde whined in complaint, heaving herself back against him, but he held her still, his hands splayed on her hips.

“Easy,” he murmured to her, pulling out of her body. “Not yet.”

“Nnnnn…please,” she whispered.

The sound of her helpless little plea filled Trunks with tenderness and he pulled her up against his chest. Turning her around to face him. He shushed her softly as she clung to him, her eyes glazed over with lust. He could tell she was so close to the edge. He lowered her to the cushions and kissed her slowly. A languid meeting of lips and tongues that was akin to throwing accelerant on a bonfire. She wrapped her legs around his, her hands sliding down to his buttocks as she tried to pull him closer.

He pulled away, to scoot her down on the cushion into better position, but she whimpered again, reaching for him. With a smile, Trunks sank back down between her thighs, sliding into her tight heat effortlessly. He brushed her hair back off of her face, smoothing the wild ringlets at her temples gently. Her hands gripped his buttocks tighter, her fingernails digging into his skin when he didn’t move right away, just gazed down on her with those sinful sapphire eyes, his lips curved in a wicked smile.

“I need you,” she whispered, pressing feverish kisses to his jaw and neck.

“I know,” he replied rather smugly, but she didn’t seem to notice. Trunks pushed his hips down, applying more pressure as he seated himself deep within her. She sheathed him perfectly, her depth matching his length. The hills and valleys of her exquisite little body fit his like they had been crafted together. Warmth exploded in him as he gazed down into her desire filled face and he stopped her when he saw her tongue press to the roof of her mouth, about to speak. “No more teasing,” he soothed, “no more games, and no more teasing…just you and me now.”

She nodded, and gave him a small sweet smile of relief, lifting her arms to wrap around him. Trunks held her eyes, gazing down on her and watching every play of passion that crossed her face as he drew back to thrust into her again. It was the final act; he knew she couldn’t wait much more, and neither frankly, could he. He’d been tortured with lust for her and holding back ever since he saw her lick whipped cream off her finger over an hour before. It may not seem very long in retrospect, but to him it felt like a lifetime.

“How do you want it?” he rasped. Eager to not blow this nearly – thanks to his mother – perfect encounter with his goddess. “Fast, or slow?” he asked seductively. Praying she wanted the same thing he did. Her thighs tightened around his hips subtly.

“Fast…” she gasped, “I can’t wait any more.”

He exhaled in a rush, relief washing over him. “Oh thank god,” he muttered. His body desperate for the release it had been promised, so he gripped the cushion beneath her for leverage and to hold her to him as he started pumping into her hard and fast. The last thing he needed was for the leather couch cushion to go sliding across the plush carpet from the force of his thrusts. Her heels dug into the carpet as she spread her legs as wide as they’d go, hanging on to Trunks’ biceps as he propped his arms over her. It didn’t take much, they were both so close to the breaking point that a mere handful of thrusts had her climaxing in his arms. Her face buried in his throat to stifle her soft cries of release. It was too intense, the feel of her, the thrill of the chase all culminating in this hot furious encounter in his office, that he forgot himself in his orgasm. Groaning her name over and over as he spent himself inside her.

Holding most of his weight up with his knees and elbows, he rested on top of her as his breathing slowed. Pressing his nose just behind her ear as he laid his head on her shoulder, the sweat of their bodies mixing and Trunks had no desire to move…ever.

He watched her silently as she looked up past his body toward the ceiling, one of her hands playing with the short hair at the back of his head, making him want to purr. He loved having his hair played with. He reached over and picked up her other hand, her left one, and toyed with her ring, turning it around and around on her finger. At long last she turned her head away from the ceiling and looked at him, smiling sweetly with contentment.

“Hi,” Trunks said, returning her smile.

“Hello,” she replied softly.

Trunks nuzzled her ear with his nose, and having no idea of what to say next to transition them from fantasy back to reality, said, “I bought you that dress.”

She laughed, and the spell was broken. She was no longer his blonde conquest; his quick afternoon score, she was what she’d been all along. His Marron, his love. “Trunks, you didn’t!” she giggled, using his name at last. Trunks grinned, the sound of his name coming from her lips sounding sweeter than any endearment she could utter. Their game had been fun, but he liked this. Holding her in his arms after they made love, looking into her eyes and knowing all the emotion contained within was just for him. “Where will I ever wear an evening gown like that?” she asked him, a smile tugging at her lips. Trunks thought about the provocative backless gown being delivered to his office and felt a stir of passion, remembering how she’d looked in the black georgette, imagining all the new fantasies he could come up with revolving around it.

“You can wear it for me,” he whispered seductively, nipping at her shoulder playfully and grinding his hips against hers lightly. She giggled softly again, not wanting her voice to carry in case Trunks’ secretary had returned.

“Kinky devil!” she accused with mock outrage, “Why do I let you talk me into these things?”

“Because you love it,” he purred huskily in her ear, tracing it lightly with his tongue and making her shudder. Walking that fine line between seduction and tickling. “Because you love me.”

She tipped her face up for his kiss, as receptive and responsive to him there on his office floor as she was in the comfort of their bed at home. Any place with her was perfect, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly even as their lower bodies disengaged. “That I do,” she breathed when he let her up for air. “Now let me up so I can use your shower and sneak out before your mother knows I’m here. She’ll be very upset with me if she thinks I’m keeping you from your work.” Marron said, still playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. Rendering him completely unable to move.

“No she won’t. She loves you, you’re her favorite daughter in law,” Trunks mumbled, making himself quite comfortable as he curled himself around her on the thick cushion. There was something to be said for lazing around one’s office naked with one’s wife in the middle of the afternoon.

“Trunks, I’m her only daughter in law,” Marron pointed out. Trunks grinned into her shoulder, cupping one of her breasts in his palm. He should have her drop by unexpected everyday; she certainly brightened the afternoon right up.

“See? You’re her favorite.” Marron rolled her eyes at him and got up, slipping out of his embrace before he could pull her back.

Trunks watched with appreciative eyes as she strode gracefully across his office to his bathroom, his gaze especially drawn to her backside as her hips swayed gently. Her hair almost brushing the small of her back, and he was compelled to get up and follow her. Climbing into the narrow shower stall with her to wash her body tenderly while she held her long hair on top of her head so it wouldn’t get wet. He didn’t even take advantage of the situation to tease her…overly much. But the bathroom of his office was neither the time, nor the place for him to indulge in more of his fantasies. At least not right away.

They dressed in silence, and Trunks stood behind Marron when they were done, combing his fingers gently through the long spiraling curls that tumbled down her back. “I really, really like your hair,” Trunks whispered, moving the heavy mass aside to place a kiss on her bare shoulder. “It looks so different, it made you like a new person.”

She turned her head to the side to glance at him out of the corner of her eye. “So is this what you do at work? Pick up strange women in coffee shops and seduce them in your office?” she asked him archly. It took Trunks a moment before he saw the teasing gleam in her eye. For a moment he thought she might have been serious. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder as he held her close.

“Only beautiful blondes who happen to be my wife,” he told her. “When you’re around I can’t even see anyone else. You’re like the sun – brighter than the sun – all I can see is you. My perfect, beautiful wife.” Trunks whispered in her ear. Marron rested her hands on his arms, trying to stop the grin that was spreading across her face at his words. Trunks shared her smile as he watched her.

“Oh, you’re good,” she giggled. Trunks’ grin widened.

“You like that?” he asked, turning her in his arms when she nodded and he tipped her face up to his with a finger under her chin. “Good thing I mean every word of it, huh?” he murmured, hugging her to him as they stood in the center of his office. Feeling contented and happy to the bottom of his soul. Life couldn’t get much better than this. Marron replied silently by tightening the arms she had wrapped around his waist.

“Next time I am going to fuck you on the elevator though, be warned,” Trunks promised, grinning from ear to ear. Marron blushed, swatting him half-heartedly in the chest as she pulled away.

“Pervert!” she exclaimed, backing away toward the door as he advanced on her playfully. “Don’t you ever get enough?”

Trunks shook his head. “No way! I’m still a newlywed,” he told her, backing her up against his door and trapping her between it and his body, his hands propped on either side of her. Marron snorted, even as she was smiling at him. He loved her smile.

“Newlywed, my ass. We’ve been married two years already.”

He lowered his head slowly until his lips were nearly against hers, his expression playful, but his eyes were serious. “So? As far as I’m concerned I’m still on my honeymoon,” he purred and kissed her softly. So gently she barely felt the press of his lips, his breath a whisper against hers. “And I will never, ever get enough of you, Marron, I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she replied, smiling at him. A knock on the door stopped Trunks from kissing his beautiful wife again, but he had to like the result as it startled her into jumping into his arms. Her soft little body molding to his as she hung on to him.

“Trunks? Son, are you feeling any better yet?” Bulma called. Trunks kept his hands propped on the door, looking down at Marron as she pressed herself tightly to him. Shaking her head wildly so he wouldn’t give her away. He grinned.

“Yeah, Mom. I’m feeling perfect now. I guess I just needed to get horizontal for a little while.” Trunks answered, chuckling quietly at the vexed expression on his wife’s face.

“Trunkssssss….” She hissed warningly.

“Well, as long as you’re cured, son…maybe you could get back to work now?” Bulma suggested. Trunks moved one hand from the door to Marron’s ass, cupping it in his hand and pulling her tight against him. He nuzzled her neck teasingly.

“My cure,” he rumbled in her ear quietly, loving the way she hissed in her breath at the sensation, and he kissed her deeply, the world falling away for them again as they lost themselves in each other.

On the other side of the door Bulma shook her head at the lack of response and turned away, unfolding her arms. Trunks’ secretary smiled knowingly, the dress shop delivery box sitting on the corner of her desk. Bulma sighed. “You’d better clear his schedule for the rest of the afternoon…I doubt you’re going to see him again.” Bulma said resigned.

“It’s rather sweet in a way, how much in love they are. They still act like newlyweds.” Trunks’ secretary said, already flipping through Trunks’ appointment calendar.

Bulma harrumphed. “Hopefully, they’ll get over it soon…” Bulma said, heading away from Trunks’ office and back down toward her own. Making it clear that business must continue, despite its president’s amorous distractions. When she was certain she was out of earshot she let her pleased smile take over her face. “…In twenty or thirty years,” she finished, chuckling to herself.

Ah, to be young and in love. At least with Trunks and Marron’s antics, things were rarely boring.

#Bulma #Marron #Trunks #DBZ #Lost Fanfiction

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