LIME WARNING!
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As soon as Trunks was certain that he was out of Pan’s eyesight, he upped his speed. Or at least as much as possible when his dick was as hard as fucking adamantium, which thanks to his mother was an actual substance and not something out of a comic book. You’d think that line of thread would have taken care of his problem, since having a hard-on and having a passing thought of one’s mother was sure to shrivel up any man’s balls, but it didn’t. Not when the scent of Pan, some rich earthy mixture of vanilla and something other that he couldn’t name and the pure essence of the woman herself, still filled his senses.
The scent enough was enough to keep the raging hard-on he had since the moment he found himself lying on top of her body. It was the scent that kept the memory of that moment etched in his mind; as if he could ever forget. She was so small and soft compared to him, although he knew she would kill him if he said it out loud because like her younger heathen of a sister, she’d assume it was a subtle jab at saying she was weak. The one thing Pan or her sisters would never be was weak. Each Son woman was strong in her own way and prickly as hell when they thought they were being slighted and thought as less then what they truly were.
Trunks didn’t see Pan’s petite stature as a weakness, no matter how many times he teased her about it. And it had certainly been the last thing he had thought when she had been under him. Instead his thoughts had been more along the lines that her petite size made her the right size to be under him and how she fit perfectly against him. He had realized that the way they had fallen had made certain parts of them align perfectly and had they been naked…
The Saiyan Prince slammed a lid on that thought and rushed to get to his bathroom, only pausing long enough to type in the settings to the walk-in shower so it would send a waterfall of ice cold water on him and fix the problem that stray thoughts of one Bulma Briefs could not. He entered the shower, not bothering to strip himself of the black silk pants. It didn’t really matter if they were ruined; he could easily buy thousands of them to replace this one pair. And quite frankly he didn’t think he could get them off easily without irritating his problem. Silk felt fucking great but not against an erection that there was no way in hell he would be able to relieve with the woman who had caused it.
He entered the shower, biting back a curse as the pounding water felt like pricks from ice needles against his skin. The things a man had to go through because they were all horny bastards. He stood in the middle of the large walk-in, eyes closed as he let the water to continue to pound away at his skin and hopefully do away with his big problem (well it sure as hell wasn’t fucking little). There had to be a rational explanation of what had happened since he was pretty sure he had never reacted like this towards Gohan’s oldest daughter (better to think her of in those terms since Gohan would Kamehaeha his dick off he knew what had just happened) before.
Like the fact that he hadn’t been in a relationship in a while, let alone had sex. It had to have been at least four or five months since the last time had a woman under him. This was all the cause of built up sexual frustration and hunger and the only reason why Pan had triggered it was because she was no longer the young girl, who was still as undeveloped as she had been when she had been 14, he knew but an attractive woman with all the curves.
Perfect explanation of the situation if he could ignore the little voice in him that whispered traitorously, like a little devil on your shoulder (ironically enough the little devil resembled Mirai of all people), that he was kidding himself if he believed that. He might have been going through a sexual drought, but he had never gotten that fucking hard that fast even when he was some young stupid and horny kid. And now that he was an adult with more control that came from maturity and his father’s teachings drilled into his head, a woman had to put a lot more effort then walking around in some barely there Victoria’s Secret lingerie to make him want her.
Yet he had been barely been pressed against Pan and the blood was rushing down to his dick and the need to take her washed over him. And she had done nothing to cause it, at least not deliberate. Her hair had been slightly tousled from what he guessed was the inability to sleep, since he knew her well enough to know that she had to be up for more then an hour after sleeping to actually be really awake and able to take on the world unless she had a strong coffee. She certainly had more on then any of his past girlfriends or lover; just plain red gym shorts and an oversized black t-shirt with the high school logo that all the younger Z generation had or were currently attending.
Nothing seductive about that. Except he had noticed the way the black shirt outlined the shape of her breasts or the fact that she was also braless. There was also the realization that the reason why the shirt was too big wasn’t because she had ordered one sizes larger then she needed, but because it happened to be his. Mingled in with her scent, the shirt still held his own scent one he could pick up only because of the enhanced senses that came from his Saiyan heritage. And the thought of her wearing his shirt and knowing that it was his shirt was the only thing from preventing him from seeing her breasts was as much of a turn-on as having her under him. Then there was the knowledge that one little spike of ki and the shirt would have been burned away from the power…
Trunks tried to stop that line of thought. The logic that he had been looking for had turned into sexual thought which was making the cold shower obsolete, not that it had helped much. Yet something in him didn’t want to stop that thought. His mind took him back to moments earlier and instead of jumping back from Pan like a kid with his hand caught in a cookie jar… well to go along with the metaphor he had taken and devoured the damn cookie. The scene replayed in his mind and this time he used his ki to destroy the shirt and everything else they had been wearing so there was nothing between them. Just skin against skin.
He had never seen Pan naked in his life, yet his mind supplied him of the image that was detailed and as complete as if he made a life study of examining every bare inch of her. Her body was toned and lithe; there was no way it could be otherwise since she had been training since the moment she had learned how to walk. Full and perky breasts, that were neither too big nor too small, with nipples the shade of a dusky rose pink. Exquisite and perfectly formed, it was more of an afterthought in his sexual fantasy that Pan had the exact kind of breasts that he liked. He had never been turned on by women with overly generous breasts although Dende knew that he had enough women thrust their double-D cups in his face enough times. It was Pan’s breasts that made his mouth water (never mind the fact that this was a fantasy and not actual memory of what they looked like) and he could see himself of before closing over one dusky rose nipple and sucking as she moaned under him.
The details of the fantasy were too clear and strong that he could actually hear the sound of her moan, know the scent and taste of her so well and intimately in a way as if they had been lovers for years. It was too much stimulation and he realized that no amount of cold water was going to get rid of his erection. He either took care of himself or he went back downstairs and seduced Pan into bed. As he little doubt in his ability to seduce a woman he wanted, but heavy doubts and concerns of what would happen to their relationship the morning after, it left Trunks with only one choice.
Using barest flare of ki, as not to trigger the curiosity of anyone in the building who had the ability to sense such things, or his father who was in his own Saiyan way as nosy as Bulma, Trunks used his power to burn away the silk pants since taking them at this point would do more harm then good. As aroused as he currently, the feel of silk wouldn’t be the kind of stimulation it would be under normal circumstances. It was one of the few times that it was good thing that the flaring of one’s ki was a good thing to remove clothes. As a child, he had to learn how to channel his ki in way so when he used it, it didn’t burn away his clothes and leave him bare-ass naked. He had and Goten had certainly gone through fair shares of wardrobe in those early days because of those lessons, although it was nothing compared to the way his sister went through wardrobes in the normal female fashion.
He leaned against the black marble tile walls of the shower, a hand sliding down the muscles of his chest which were slick from the water that continued to pour down over him. His eyes were closed as he imagined that it was Pan’s hand and not his own that was doing this as it slid lower. His fingers slid around his dick, which was standing ramrod straight like a fucking flagpole. The sensation of his fingers wrapped his cock was a combination of pleasure and pain because of the overstimulation caused be one particular woman.
And yet he couldn’t pull his mind away from thoughts of her. Of what her body looked like and imagining it was her slim fingers wrapped around him and jerking him off. Such thoughts only served to make him even hornier and the temptation to go downstairs and have the woman that had caused this situation however innocently was strong. Something darker and more primal whispered that he go and take her because she was his, but he ignored it and focused on finding relief. His hand began to move up and down vigorously, the training that came from being who and what he was, allowed him to move his hand faster then what an average guy would. The pressure built up faster and the pleasure of it seemed to keep growing like a pressure cooker or volcano just waiting to blow.
Moments later Trunks came with a low groan which he hoped to Dende nobody heard; particularly since not even fifteen minutes earlier he had the excuse to Pan that he had just reacted because he was a guy and he didn’t really want to explain to his best friend why he had come groaning out the man’s niece’s name. Didn’t matter that Goten saw Pan more as a younger sister then niece, since the key of the matter was that Pan was a female relative and Goten tended to be as protective as Gohan was about the Son sisters.
He slid down and sat on the built in marble seat of the shower. When nobody had come storming into his place, he decided that no one had heard him. The fact that he had just masturbated while thinking about Pan because she had gotten him turned on the first place would be his dirty secret he’d keep to himself. Or the fact that he’d probably just had the best orgasm of his life because of it.
All because of his Pan.
“Fuck,” he muttered, as his body stirred to life far too quick then what was normal for him. His hand slid down once more…
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Final Thought from Trunks:
Pan…
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Author’s Note:
Yet again the next chapter pops into my head for a story, so I had to write it or let it drift away and leave the story lacking something it should have had. All of you can thank my Beta reader and friend, Taylor for this chapter and its citrus flavor. =)
Thanks again to everyone who reviewed or added this story as a favorite or alert.
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Disclaimer: I do not claim any rights to Dragon Ball/Dragon Ball Z/Dragon Ball GT or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Toriyama Akira and anyone else he says has rights to it.
