Vegeta hadn't had a wet dream since he was a boy. But he woke up the morning after the woman had toyed with him sticky with cum and grateful that he'd kicked his bed-linens off in the night. At least he wouldn't have to deal with that shame. "Fuck, she's destroying me," Vegeta breathed as he laid for a moment, basking in the post-orgasmic bliss and the heated memory of the dream. Of his mouth on her, licking her until she pleaded, and her nails raking furrows in his ass as he drove into her.
It wasn't an efficient decision to relive the dream. He was hard again in moments. Also close to relieved tears that he might not have to live the rest of his miserable life without getting laid. The woman seemed like she would at least let him fuck her while she was in heat. Vegeta's genes were excellent, so he could hardly blame her for wanting that. It was the rest of him, the intangible part, that was the problem.
Vegeta reached awkwardly under his bed to the stash of novels he'd pilfered from the woman's mother. They were pornography, essentially, but written instead of visual. He rather liked that as it allowed him to more vividly fill in the blanks of who the participants were.
While the woman's mother favored novels that featured two men, she had a few with men and women, and a few with two women. Vegeta preferred there to be some dick in his pornography, but he never minded watching two females couple. One of his first sexual experiences (that didn't simply involve his hand) had been with two women who wanted a third for a night. They thought he was attractive and they liked tails. Vegeta shuddered at the memory of his tail slipping inside one's pussy while he fucked the other. The longing for his tail made his whole body ache.
Vegeta flipped through one of his favorites to a well-read scene. The heroine had pulled the villain out of fiery wreckage after attempting to capture him. While tending his battered body, she began to appreciate it, helplessly tracing his scars and sinewy ridges of muscle. Vegeta held the book open with one hand, spit in his other hand, and squeezed his cock.
Vegeta never had much necessity for masturbation in space. Once he'd reached maturity, he'd never gone so much as a week without fucking in some configuration. Memories flitted through his mind, enhancing the erotica. He knew it was pathetic that he liked this one best, imagining the woman caring for him, but that didn't stop him from fantasizing. The way the heroine offered the villain redemption through love touched a nerve in Vegeta's soul that he didn't like to acknowledge. It wasn't that he was guilty, or even ashamed, about the things he'd done. It was more why he had done them. Being Frieza's bitch Vegeta's whole life left Vegeta desperately in need of validation as a being with his own agency.
The villain awoke and seized the heroine's hand. She was afraid until he drew it to his mouth, kissed her knuckles, and when she gasped, yanked her down into a fierce kiss. Vegeta's hand twisted a little around the base of his shaft. Three years on Earth had perfected his masturbation technique. Not that he didn't like a little variety, just as with actual sex, but when efficiency was the goal, Vegeta could get off quickly.
This particular morning though, with the woman's heat-scent drifting in under his door, through his open windows, and the lingering remains of her smell on his skin from the night before, he wanted to indulge himself. There was so little pleasure in Vegeta's life. He teased his cock, cupped his balls and slid them around inside his sac before pulling on them, then gripped the root of his shaft again. He twisted his hand as he pumped up and down on his length, but he didn't touch his sensitive head yet.
Vegeta squirmed and panted. He set the book down, no longer necessary between the combination of fantasies about the woman and the memories of making love that filled his mind. His other hand reached behind himself and he pulsed his fingers on his pucker. Vegeta missed getting fucked too. Unfortunately there were no men on Earth that had aroused even the tiniest bit of lust in Vegeta. They were all so weak, so spineless.
He wondered if the woman had ever used the fake cocks he'd experienced in his soldiering days. The first time a woman had fucked him that way had been titillating. Her desire to dominate him turned him on. Vegeta liked dominating too, but that had been fun. He could envision the woman railing him, slapping his ass, screaming with her own ecstasy.
He teased his ass more as he gave in to the ache in his head and fisted his tip hard, groaning at the plentiful pre-cum that made his cock slippery. He twisted his hand faster, tightening his grip every time he pushed it over the head of his cock. As he got closer, he dipped inside himself and even though he didn't make it anywhere near his prostate, he came the moment he did that. He rarely gave himself pleasure that way and it was clear his body missed it.
Cum splattered his belly and pecs, slipping into the ravines between his muscles as he heaved for breath, stroking himself a final few times and squeezing the last of it out of his tip. Vegeta sighed. Jerking off felt good in the moment, but it always amplified his loneliness and ache for a partner as the brief euphoria dissipated. He laid motionless, clutching his half-hard prick, his finger still in his own ass, and he let himself cry again.
The fucking woman must have broken some integral part of the emotional dam he'd been reinforcing since before he'd even come to Earth. That journey had been long and miserable, filled with bitter tears and plenty of jerking off. Vegeta's loneliness seemed to think it needed to tear its hair and rend its clothes now that it had been openly acknowledged to another living creature. Vegeta's stomach hurt with missing companionship and touch. His eyes squeezed shut and he tried to tamp down everything that damned woman had stirred up.
After a few more heaves, he reined in his pathetic weeping. Why did she poke at his past like that? Vegeta truly didn't understand. The vulnerability she spoke of as a necessity for closeness couldn't possibly mean she wanted to know about his romantic past. It just didn't make sense. Wouldn't it make her jealous? Vegeta examined how he would feel about knowing her romantic and sexual history. Were she to choose him, he thought he might feel a certain pride that she had left others but picked him.
He bolted upright with horror as a knock came at his door. While he was busy wallowing in his memories, current misery, and cum, he'd missed the fact that her chi and her scent had gotten much stronger. She was outside his door at this very moment and he was painted with his own semen. It was humiliating.
"What!?" he roared, sprinting into the bathroom. She had never shown any respect for his privacy so he cranked on the tap and stepped into the cold spray, frantically scrubbing at his belly. Not a second too soon, either, as he heard her open the door.
"Vegeta? Are you okay? You missed breakfast. I was worried the beer killed you. I can't believe you got drunk again. You're such a lightweight!" she shouted and he felt her getting closer.
"Just a moment, woman, you woke me! I'm—"
"I thought you showered at night?" she said standing just outside the bathroom door which he had foolishly left open.
"It was hot last night, I was soaked with sweat," he said, hoping his lie sounded better to her ears than his own.
A fresh wave of horror crashed over him as her chi moved toward his bed. She would see that he'd been stealing her mother's books. He hurriedly finished showering, whipped a towel off the hook, and raced out to hide the book. He froze when he saw her sitting on his bed, leaning back on one arm, and reading. He'd even left the book open, face-down, marking the passage he'd been reading. She would know he'd been reading about sex.
She smirked at him over top of the book. She purred, "Well no wonder you were all sweaty, reading this. I didn't know you read romances."
Vegeta spluttered, "I…that…you…it's not…godsdamnit, woman! Why are you in my room, invading my privacy!? What I read is none of your fucking business!"
She chortled and flopped back on his bed, holding the book over her head. She crooned, "'Lana traced her finger down the long scar that ran from his ribs almost to his navel. Rhett had so many scars that she wondered if he even recalled where he'd gotten each one. One of the scars dipped into the tattered remains of his pants, singed from his crash. Lana considered tugging down the cloth, seeing where it ended, but before she could decide, her hand was seized in a viselike grip…'" The woman laughed merrily and said, "I'll bet he lets her put him in her viselike grip in short order."
Vegeta couldn't tell if the woman was making fun of him. Now that he thought about it, he had never seen the woman's father with a book. Or Kakarot. Or any other male. Were books limited by gender? Was that why she was amused? Did men not read on this planet? He knew some men were at least literate, he'd seen the woman's father reading on his phone and his computer.
Vegeta had surmised that on Earth an absurd number of things seemed to be relegated to one gender or the other. They were meticulous about this to the point of taunting those that didn't conform to what seemed to be completely arbitrary categories. He'd even asked the Namek about it once, as one of the few beings he felt might actually sympathize with Vegeta's confused plight. The green behemoth had confirmed Vegeta's suspicions about the gendering of inanimate objects by humans, grumbling, "Yeah, I have no fucking clue what one's genitalia has to do with all the nonsense they apply it to. Even color, I shit you not, even colors are assigned to gender. It's weird as hell."
Vegeta's ignorant questions tortured him, but he was too curious to avoid it and the woman usually at least answered him. Rather than snarl and tell her to get out, he said, his voice small, "Do…I…I can't tell what's happening right now. Am I not allowed to read books?"
She set the book down again and stared at him for a moment. "No, of course you can read books. I was just surprised that this type of book appealed to you."
"What type? The pornographic kind that your mother favors? There are hundreds of these around the compound, but hardly any other reading material that isn't dry scientific journals. If I had access to my wealth, I might explore other types of books."
The woman looked suddenly stricken. Vegeta stammered, "I…did…did I insult you? Your science periodicals are undoubtedly interesting to you, but I'm merely in search of…of…of entertainment. I…why are you looking at me like that?!" Vegeta couldn't read her expression at all.
"Oh Kami, Vegeta, I'm sorry. I should have given you my library card. Or showed you my bookcases. My mom loves crotch novels, but I have a little broader taste than she does. I didn't realize you read for fun. You're such an enigma, Vegeta. Come on, I'll pick out some clothes and we'll go on a field trip."
"Crotch novels?! Where are we going? What does it have to do with crotches and books? What field?" Vegeta barely understood the actual words of what she'd just said, let alone their meaning. He tried to control his temper.
"Crotch novel, you know, because they're about sex. But there's no field, my sweet alien, a field trip is just when you go somewhere to learn something. I'm going to show you where the library is. You know what a library is, right?"
Vegeta trailed after her into the closet. He said, "A collection of books. Yes. I've seen your mother's hoard. It's quite extensive. I don't think she even notices when I swipe them. They're called crotch novels? They're not just about sex, there's love and companionship and derring-do. Sometimes there's redemption and forgiveness."
The woman tossed clothes at him, seemingly at random. Did the woman just know what he should wear or was he overestimating the amount of information conveyed by Earthling attire?
The woman looked in his eyes and smiled. She said, "You get all that from that erotica trash my mom reads?"
"They're not trash! I like them! Most species' spend a good portion of their lives devoted to finding a mate, why shouldn't these made up stories be about that too?" Vegeta grumbled, but looked down, avoiding her eyes. It upset him that she thought of his reading material as rubbish, but he also felt fucking ridiculous for caring one way or the other. Perhaps if he'd been reading the type of novels she favored he wouldn't be such a bumbling idiot around her. Vegeta tossed off his towel and stepped into the shorts, trying to stifle his irritation that she'd found his book at all. The woman's sharp intake of breath made him look up. She was staring at him.
Years in tight soldiers' quarters and on the battlefield left Vegeta utterly without modesty. He momentarily forgot the gender divide on Earth: males could be nude in front of other males, but not females, and vice versa. It was never that way in space, so it was hard to remember that even fully mature, sexually active humans seemed shocked by the genitalia of the opposite sex. It was beyond bizarre. Surely the woman had seen a cock and balls before?
Her eyes met his and her cheeks flushed prettily. Rather than be embarrassed as he knew was the entertainment norm, he smirked, raised an eyebrow, and said, "Like something you see, woman?"
He rendered her speechless. She gawped as her mouth opened and closed once. And again. How delightful. Had he known his cock would quiet her, he might have used it on other occasions. It was nice to stun her for once. He left the shorts unbuttoned, displaying the thin line of pubic hair that trailed from below his navel down to his cock, his only body hair, to fuel the woman's imagination.
He chortled and shrugged on the shirt, buttoning it slowly. Only then did he zip and button the shorts. She was gorgeous with a little pink blush on her cheeks. She was gorgeous all the time, of course, but he liked to imagine her cheeks pinking up like this while she was getting fucked properly.
Now Vegeta wondered if no man had ever given her real sexual pleasure. Maybe that was something he could give her too. Vegeta had many faults, one of which was being a completely selfish prick, but never while fucking. Vegeta was a good lover, he knew that much.
What if the woman had never coupled at all? She did say that it was frowned upon for women to have multiple sexual partners. Was that the reason she froze at the sight of his cock? Had she never seen a cock at all? The woman was well into her reproductive years, surely she'd at least tried sex. Vegeta assumed that Kakarot had fucked her, at the very least, because they were so loving with one another. Was it possible that it was purely platonic? Though now that he thought about, Vegeta, in his more desperate moments, had tried to suss out whether Kakarot was a sexual creature at all and had determined that the clown either didn't enjoy sex, or was very naïve about it. So perhaps the woman and the idiot were simply friends. The other imbecile, the one that had courted the woman for the first two years Vegeta was on Earth probably couldn't even get an erection. So perhaps she was inexperienced, if not entirely un-fucked. Intriguing.
He cleared his throat as she continued to stand in cock-shocked silence. "Well? Where is this library field you're tripping me in?"
She recovered with a nervous giggle. "Come on, I'll show you, it's not a field. And I'm not talking about my mom's library. Though I'll show you mine on our way since I have more variety than her. Hey, you have to wear shoes for this. Here, you hate flip flops, right?" The woman handed him tiny socks and the shoes he saw exercising humans wearing. These were tolerable. He bent to put them on and deliberately put his ass in her direction. He knew she liked that part of him. It was easier to think around her when he'd gotten off twice in the minutes beforehand. He might have to make a habit of jacking off right before her flying lessons.
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