Sunday Funday

Moans and groans came out of full, pink lips as white teeth bit into them as she tried to muffle the noise. He kissed her with force and swallowed her moans.

"Let them out. I want to hear you moan for me." He rasped against her ear, the sound of his deep, gravelly voice sent her into overdrive. The man picked up the speed, he slammed into her body mercilessly, and the woman began to scream. Her legs trembled and she tried to grasp for something to hold on. "Scream for me, woman. I want to hear you moan for me; beg for me." He growled and bit into her neck, his hands grabbed her hand and they interlaced their fingers. The bed slammed against the wall with a tempo that matched their activities. Her skin glowed in the moonlight, and her strawberry scent engulfed him.

"Come for me, woman. Say my name."

"Vegeta!"

Vegeta woke with a start and sat on his bed. He glanced at the window and groaned, threw himself back to the bed, and scrubbed his face with a scarred hand. It was a dream, of course, it was. The Earth didn't have a moon since Piccolo destroyed the satellite to stop Gohan's Oozaru transformation. Vegeta looked at the alarm clock that was on his nightstand. The woman insisted that he needed "home goodies", as she called them. Some were useful, others, not so much. It read at 7:20 am. He woke up 10 minutes earlier than usual. The Saiyan prince got up from the bed and walked in a lethargic pace towards the bathroom. It was Sunday, as in his day to relax. He learned the hard way that rest was vital for a fighter of his caliber; his muscles needed to recover from his strenuous and arduous training. The Saiyan prince stepped inside the shower and let the cold water engulf him in its wet embrace. The shower was the best thing the woman brought for him, it felt as if he was standing right under a waterfall.

He lathered his body with the unscented soap, something he will always be silently grateful to her since Saiyan senses, especially the sense of smell, were very sensitive to any smell and a strong scent would just give him a headache. His thoughts went back to the dream he just had. It was a recurring dream of them having animalistic sex, always at night, always the moon caressed her pale skin, and that was the signal that it wasn't real. It's been weeks since that day at the ice cream parlor. It's been weeks since he tasted her lips and felt her soft, pliant body against his hard one.

Since he smelt her strawberry scent.

Vegeta groaned as he wrapped his hand around his cock and gave it a deliciously strong squeeze. He had tried everything to quench the thirst the woman gave him. However, not even a good lay with a few of the male and female staff of Capsule Corp. cut it. They simply weren't Bulma. Fucking cock, why would you want the annoying woman? I know she's hot, but so are her mother, Kakarrot's harpy, and the multi-personality wench, and you don't see me having fantasies about them! Control yourself! The Saiyan prince reprimanded his hard-on and gave a sigh when it twitched at the thought of Bulma. He knew that no matter what he said, his cock was right on one thing.

He wanted the woman.

Vegeta turned off the water and power dried himself as he walked back to his room, he grabbed his swimsuit. His swimsuit was a simple pair of training, black shorts and left to the kitchen to find something to eat. The smell of chocolate chip pancakes and bacon made him sigh with delight as he walked into the kitchen and saw Panchy Briefs as she cooked and sang with the radio some American tunes. Vegeta identified the genre as American pop since it seems that's the only music the older woman listened to. The blonde turned and smiled at the Saiyan prince, she shimmed towards the man and gave him a peck on the cheek. For the moment, she was the only person that could do that without dying, as Vegeta secretly loved her mothering.

"Vegeta, dear! Good morning! I hope you're hungry, I'm cooking your favorites; pancakes and bacon!" The woman informed him in her cheerful way, grabbed the Saiyan's hand and twirled at the rhythm of the music. Vegeta let her use his hand to dance and just chuckled a bit at her childish antics. Mrs. Briefs made the prince sit at the table as she brought all the food.