#day1thebutterfly

[jonahwhalesw1]

Personal Connection, Ch. 1 (Prompt 1- The Butterfly)

It’s my first submission ever for @tpthvegebulsmutfest​.  If I’ve done it wrong, please someone let me know.  The is for the first day’s prompt: the kama sutra position The Butterfly.  Also a huge shout out to Janet Jackson for her “If” song and music video and my local anime con’s cosplay skit competition for the idea of Bulma’s performance here as well as TemptingTemptation’s “Scandalous” fic in which Vegeta follows Bulma to a club wearing a blue shirt, I couldn’t get the fabulous image out of my head, but I did my own riff on the idea along with my own favorite button up shirt for Vegeta.

I hope everyone enjoys.

The cool night air felt refreshing on his skin as he left the Gravity Chamber for the night, but it also reminded him of how much he needed to take a shower.  Quietly he rose into the air and begin his flight back to his room’s balcony for his routine shower before dinner.  The screeching laughter caught his ears instantly and her froze, levitating, watching. She was walking down the driveway.  A ridiculous amount of arms reached out of a car’s windows waving at her. She waved back.

It had been…a while since he had…been with…the Woman.  She had mentioned at breakfast that she was going out with “friends” tonight…to some club…for dancing…to cheer her up after finally breaking up with that pathetic excuse for a fighter or a man…to get her back to being the “old” Bulma.  Old Bulma?!  Who the fuck was that?  What were they implying?!  That somehow the old version of her who fell for the moron and kept taking him back after his multiple infidelities (he had found out later from her Mother’s lamentations) over and over again was somehow better than this one that finally told him to go to Hell and stay there?! But apparently, she was going out with these friends to reclaim some past version of herself.

Tch, he huffed.

She leaned over at the driver’s window to talk to the women inside.  Her salaciously short black dress riding up to barely cover her pert ass.

Twitch, he steeled himself.  Trying to allow the cool air to freeze out his suddenly sparked arousal.

She straightened back up.  The bottom of the skirt lowering back down to still barely cover her ample backside…and revealing that the low swooping cut of the back plummeted just far enough to reveal a peep of the top of her butt crack.

His eyes widened in shock.

The black metallic fabric shimmered like liquid, starry night as she made her way around the vehicle to the front passenger side.

Dear Gods, the damn dress had a plunging front neckline as well.  A healthy amount of the crack of her bosom was exposed above the draped fabric being held together at her neck by two thin straps of fabric apparently tied at the back of her neck underneath her curling, longer hair.  She gave her locks a playful flip back over her shoulder as she opened the door and got into the car.

As soon as her door closed, the tires spun harshly against the driveway then the car tore away from the main residence of Capsule Corp.

Tch, his eyes went straight ahead.  Within seconds, he landed on his balcony and stormed in to his room.

Well, if that blasted Woman wanted to go out to whatever the Hell a club was then so be it.

Vegeta headed straight for his bathroom.  Flinging his stinking towel on the tile floor as he turned on the shower and let it get raging hot while he took his shoes off then flung them, his socks, and his training shorts on the floor as well.

Who the Hell does that Woman think she is?

Steam began filling the room and he stepped into the shower.  Instantly the water seared his skin.  He washed quickly, thoroughly.  When his hand brushed his still semi-aroused member, the swift memory of the way she’d felt around him when he’d entered her ghosted across his mind. He stiffened more.

“Shit!”

He finished cleaning then shut the water off.  He got the hell out of the shower, wrapped a towel around his waist, grabbed a second towel, and stormed back into bedroom, drying his hair as he went.  The flame returning to his black hair once again before throwing the spare towel on the floor.

He went to his dresser and caught sight of the clock on it.  It had taken him five minutes to shower…maybe another five to dress…Capusle Corp was a large compound of buildings, they’d just be getting out of it and onto the main road into the rest of the city by now—“WHAT THE HELL?!”

He slammed his fists down the dresser top.  It dented, thank the Gods that the old man had it made out of the same metal that the Gravity Room was and just made it look like dark wood.  He opened one of the drawers, pulled out a pair of briefs, and slipped them on.  He headed into the walk-in closet (Walk-in?!  Why the Hell did a closet have to be this huge!  Who needed this much clothes?!) and grabbed a tank top and a pair of sweatpants.  He slipped those on quickly and began looking around for another pair of sneakers when his eyes caught a glimpse of the set of clothes the Woman had got him that he never ever touched.  With a growl he turned away from them.  He slammed the door on his way out of his room.

*                      *                      *

The annoying mother was twittering around the kitchen bringing out dish after dish to the table. Enough for his Saiyan appetite as well as the old man and herself.  He caught a few words of what she was blathering about as he sat down and started shoveling food into his face.

“Bulma blah blah excited blah blah blah going out blah friends.  Blah blah good blah blah her getting out and about blah Yamcha.  Blah hope Bulma finds blah new man blah make her happy.  She deserves blah blah happy.”

Vegeta reached for his fourth bowl of noodles.

“Blah blah blah, Panchy, blah blah don’t think blah nightclub blah where to find one.”

Fifth bowl.

“Blah blah not, blah she’ll blah blah find one blah have a fun night with.  She blah blah deserves that after all she’s been through with Yamcha.  He was nice and all, but…”

Vegeta slowed down while slurping his seventh bowl of noodles…But what?

“Well,” the irritatingly chipper Mother continued, “Well, Bulma’s a woman now, not a little girl.  And Yamcha’s a man, not a boy. They’re both different people now, they need different relationships.”

Vegeta slurped up the last noodles from the bowl…and didn’t go back for another.

“Panchy,” the old man smiled as he sipped his coffee, “What relationship is she going to get into at a club?”

“A fun one dear. A quick fling that resets everything for her.  It doesn’t have to be anyone special, just a man who shows her a good time for the night.”

“Anyone, Panchy?”

“Anyone, dear, just someone.”

Finally the woman sat down and the parents began to eat.  Vegeta stood up.

“Oh, Vegeta, finished already,” the mother chirped at him, “Are you ready for dessert?”  She beamed at him.

“No, thank you,” he mumbled and walked out of the room.

*                      *                      *

The Saiyan Prince’s scowl had set deep by the time he reached his room…He closed the door silently behind him, leaning back against it…He couldn’t get the ditsy Mother’s words out of his mind…His thoughts raced.  Bulma smiling that beaming smile of hers, eyes glittering.  Her body gyrating, the dress moving languidly across her skin.  Men brushing up against…

His fist hit the door, “No.”

He marched over to his walk-in closet and peered in at the clothes he swore he’d never go near. The special ones the Woman had bought him:  Club clothes. He rolled his eyes, looking away again. Anyone…just someone…

“Shit,” he snarled and looked over what she had purchased for him since he’d first arrived here.

He decided on a shimmery (Gods, a shimmery damn top, his eyes rolled) that shifted colors from royal blue to black with black buttons and a pair of black pleather pants that fit as skintight to his body as the pants of his Saiyan uniform.  A pair of black Capsule Corp boots finished the whole look off.  He stripped naked and, with a sigh, began to put on the outlandish ensemble.

*                      *                      *

“Really?  I, the Prince of All Saiyans, reduced to this?” Vegeta swore his ancestors would disown him if the saw him now.  Hovering over some building with a front exterior so lit up, it was like some Gods damn space beacon.  And the racket coming from inside it.  It was a wonder the people inside weren’t deaf.

It had been embarrassingly simple to find her ki signature…and it was just as embarrassing to realize that sensing her anywhere on the planet was pure instinct to him. All he had to do was step out on his balcony, close his eyes, and think of her and he’d immediately found her signature and tracked it here.  He’d been floating high above the wretched place with his arms crossed over his chest, his scowling down at it.  Was he really sure he wanted to do this?  He looked ridiculous, felt ridiculous…

“Chasing after a woman.  Me? Tch.”

A door opened in an blackened alley below, the music blaring even louder now that a door to the inside had been opened.  He watched two people stumble out.  He heard woman’s laughter ringing loud and clear.  His heart temporarily caught in his chest until the couple stumbled nearer the main street and the dim glow of a streetlight revealed her to be blonde. He exhaled.  Immediately she pinned her back to the alley wall and pulled the man against her.  They didn’t waste time getting down to the scandalous business they’d sought the relative privacy for.  He glared at the spectacle of the two humping like animals against a disgustingly putrid wall.  His pulse raced though.  That was close…too close.  He had to get to the Woman before anyone else did.

The alley door opened again.  In an instant, Vegeta was there and while the next horny couple stumbled out, he slipped in.

 *                      *                      *

He winced as he walked up the dark hallway, the assault on his ears was enough to make him think twice about going right back out the damn door, but he wasn’t about to go back now that he’d come this far.  However, this does explain why she harps so loudly, she’s damn well deaf!

Vegeta tried to adapt to the ear splitting blast of the music filling the place while he dodged person after person.  They were waiting in lines on either side of the hallway at a door on either side marking the halfway point of each side.  Women on one side, men the other.  Females just as scantily clad as the Woman had been—a black-haired woman reached out and grabbed his hand as he tried to make his way down the center of the hallway.  He looked down at her red polished nails trying to dig into his clothes then glared at her dark eyes.  She was startling Saiyan looking, a physique that very nearly rivaled Bulma’s but with the dark hair and dark eyes of his own alien species.  There was a lusty glint in her eye, but no sparkle, no glitter of sapphire…no fire period.  Just lust. She was in heat like, he could smell, nearly all the women…and the men, in here were.  He yanked his arm away from her and get barreling through the throng of humans.  Luckily the Saiyan looking cow hadn’t torn the shirt the Woman had bought him.  His nerves, his patience, his ability to stand being among so many of these stupid, Gods damn people were frayed almost completely; he didn’t want to think of how dangerous he’d get if some horny nobody bitch ruined his clothes with her clawing…She wasn’t the one he wanted clawing him—he shoved the thought away as he finally made it out of the hallway…and into the massive expansive room.

He gaped around him. The room was absolutely dark except for the dozens and dozens of lights of every color he knew of swirling and beaming in every direction and moving all over the room, illuminating different parts at different times.  A large wide stage, brightly lit by it’s own army of lights, stood as the left side wall and the main level of the right side wall was taken up by the longest most well-stocked and just as brightly lit bar he had ever seen in his life (and he had been to many bars as part of his travels as part of Frieza’s Force) while the other walls were tiered with balconies identifying four additional levels above the main one.  And the people…everywhere!  It was a rippling see of cajoling and gyrating bodies.  Everyone was shoved up against each other and no one cared!  Their bodies brushing against each other, touching…Vegeta’s eyes narrowed, where the Hell is the Woman?!  And Gods help her if she was grinding against someone, Gods help the asshole grinding on her!

The dark Saiyan Prince wove his way further into the center of the room.  Gritting his teeth as men bumped into him.  Gnashing his teeth when some random slut tried to paw him again.  Eyes darting here and there.  Searching for that elusive hint of brilliant teal…

Some talentless female finally ended her caterwalling on the stage and the assembly of morons flailing themselves about behind her finally stopped moving.  She and they waved and blew kisses to the temporarily calm crowd before exiting the stage.  A lone man walked to the front with a microphone to address them all and Vegeta ignored it all.  His dark eyes continued searching, taking advantage of the sudden stillness of bodies.

“How was that performance, people!  Blah blah blah blah blah…”

It was all the same.  Assinine behavior, idiotic quips.  Vegeta scoffed.  Eyes still searching.

“Blah blah blah blah blah tonight’s final performer!  Blah blah…”

The crowd exploded.  The damn room was shaking!  Gods damn it!  Vegeta gritted his teeth again.  All these people!  It’d be so much easier if he could just fly up over the crowd, find the Woman, and get the Hell—

There was horrific guitar screeching.  Vegeta cringed and slammed his hands over his ears.  Clenching his eyes shut.  His teeth ground so hard he swore his jaw was cracking.

“Gods damn this place!”  He yelled although no one heard, but himself.

He felt the shift in the air…Vegeta opened his eyes and looked around.  Everyone’s attention was focused on the stage.  He let go of his ears and looked.

A handful of men were descending from the hidden top of the stage, chained like—Slaves, but the Woman send that this planet had ended slavery hundreds of years ago…

An almost primal drumbeat joined the guitar screeching…then alarm sirens?  What the Hell was going on here?

A group of five women all wearing black, leather outfits of varying designs were dancing on the stage while the men were freed of their chains wearing black pants with sneakers and leather vests…Wait, that female on the far left, wasn’t she the driver Bulma had been talking to?

The guitar screeching was replaced with a driving intense melody that sounded like musical sex…

The women’s routine was basic…then they fell to their knees and splayed themselves before the back of the stage.  Twin doors butterflied open and a surge of fire red linens fluttered out of it…a figure emerged from the center of the ‘fire’, dressed in tight black leather pants with black leather boots like him, a black leather crop top showing off her incredible bust and even more fantastical midriff, and her long, wavy teal hair capping it all off.

Vegeta gaped.  The Woman?!

As he watched, she took center stage.  Commanded it. And he and the rest of the audience were utterly captivated by her.

The dancers fell to the knees behind her and began a new set to their routine.  The Woman flung her hands up then brought them down on her thighs then dragged her claws up her body.  Repeating.  Her legs shimmied then she strutted forward with the female dancers, leaving the males behind to Vegeta’s relief.  The women closed ranks and the Woman looked out into the crowd and sang.

Her voice was low, husky and, Vegeta knew, not her own.  She was mouthing the words to someone else’s recording…but still her presence was as dripping with heat as the voice was low and lusty.

Her hips swung to a beat.  They crossed their arms over their bodies then she pointed out into the crowd before turning away, coy and sexy.  Enticing. Then running her hands down her body before using them to spread her legs then shutting them again.

Vegeta felt his breathing pick up.  His heart rate pick up.

Her hips were swinging from side to side again as she brought her arms up in fists by her head…

His mind flashed to their last encounter…held her by the hips as he thrust into her relentlessly.  She begged for more.  Her hands gripping the edges of her desk for dear life.  Her legs trembling up his chest and on either side of his neck.  He was on fire to oblige.  The desk began rattling with her moans.  It’d been so long since he’d touched her, so long since Namek…

The music and her voice changed, becoming lighter, but the lusty instrumentation remained. Bulma’s hips swayed as she ran her hands up over her body, eyes closed, singing.

“I've closed my eyes and thought of us a hundred different ways.”

Hundred, Vegeta gasped.

She showed her back again then turned with a dazzling smile rushed a blush to the Saiyan Prince’s cheeks.  She beamed, eyes sparkled.

“…I wonder how bout you.”

Yes, Woman, he admitted to himself.

“Day and night, night and day. All I’ve got to say is…”

The men danced back in.  Pairing off with the females.  Vegeta scowled viciously at the one who dared to approach the Woman.

“If I was your girl, the things I’d do to you.”

The man grabbed his head and rolled it around as the Woman’s hands splayed out over his chest and ran down his body.  Vegeta’s blood boiled.

“I’d make you call out my name,” Bulma reached between the man’s spread legs and grabbed his crotch; Vegeta gawked, No! Then she flung the man face first forward onto the ground.

“If I was your woman,” the man quickly turned and sat up on his knees.  He grabbed her hips and was face to worshipping face with her crotch.  Vegeta was about to fly to that stage and blast the man away when Bulma’s hips rotated quickly, simulating…

“…the things I’d do,” Vegeta felt his heart numb when she grabbed the other male’s head and bowed it to her crotch, “you.”

“But I’m not,” she shoved the head away and began throwing it from hand to hand, side to side like a toy, “So I can’t.  So I won’t. But…,” the man was flung back, splayed before, as she dragged one lone finger down his just to his crotch again, “If I was your girl.”

The males slinked to the sides again and the women ruled the stage alone once more.  Vegeta breathed, but he was still raging as that recorded voice returned to it’s quick speaking low, lusty husk.  She’d touched another ma…The women’s hands roved down their own bodies to their own crotches.  His throat clenched.  Then back up their bodies…

“…imagine my body undressed,” Bulma’s hands flung her hair away from her face, she glowed in the spotlight.

The dance routine went back to slipping their hands over their bodies to their nether regions, “You on the rise as you’re touchin’ my thighs…”

His mind raced…Gods, he wanted her to cum on his cock.  He wanted to cum inside her.  His hand slithered over her trembling thighs against his chest while his other held her hip to keep her in place for him.  His lips caressed the inside of her knee next to his mouth as he pounded and pounded into her wet core.  His tongue snaked out and she writhed under his touch, he…grinned, Vegeta couldn’t keep the heated grin from pulling at the corner of his mouth at the memory.

Her hips swayed then she bucked them and her head forward, “down da down down.”

“Ah, Kami, Vegeta!”  She screamed as tried to buck against his attentions.  His heart pounded, he continued to thrust and thrust.  Her juices, feeling her juices all over his cock.  He thrust harder.  Harder. Harder.  The desk cracked beneath her grip as she came screaming, “Vegeta!!” He followed her, “Woman!”  Her legs spasming by his head as his pelvis jerked and slammed into hers…Vegeta felt his crotch twitch and his cheeks heat. She had been wildfire that night…she could be again.

He wanted her to be again.

“I want you so bad,” she strolled confidently forward and Vegeta felt himself step towards her as well.  Her hands slipped to perfect ass, “I can taste you love,” her hands slid around to her crotch, “right now, baby.”

Yes, yes right now Woman, Vegeta breathed.

“All I’ve got to say is…”

What the Hell are those damn men doing back?!

They paired off again. That man from before returned to stand infront of the Woman, her hands groped him as she sang, flung him, simulated acts Vegeta had done with her, she flung him back again, her finger dragged down his torso again.  Then the male flung himself forward, towards her. Bulma dodged easily.  The male rolled onto his back as she began to step over him.  She stopped, straddling him as his pelvis rose up and she squatted down.

“No!”  Vegeta yelled as the intimate areas seemed to touch. His eyes narrowed.  He tried to catch his breath.  Hold back his ki.  They hadn’t actually touched, they hadn’t. Bulma wouldn’t do that to him so flagrantly…But, she doesn’t know I’m here. As far as she’s concerned, I know nothing about this.  But she’d, she’d, she’d never do this to him, she knows what it feels like to have a mate betray you with another…mate…she wasn’t his mate though, he’d never declared her that…never claimed her as his woman…

“But I’m not. So I can’t.  So I won’t.”  She swung and struck the air as though fighting, “But,” her hand went to her crotch and she stared out at the crowded with hot steel, “If I was your girl.”

The guitar screeching returned as the hand slid up to her mouth as swiped across it the way he did when wiping away sweat or blood from his mouth after a battle.  The dance assembly split in half, retreating to the sides…the siren sounds returned—Vegeta gaped as the dancers returned to the middle in a perfect synchronization to the fast tempo of the sirens.  Bulma was crisp.  Sharp.  They reformed and swung their arms.  Katas, it reminded him of the katas he practiced every day.  Their own katas…Bulma was the best at the angles, the steely confident swings, rigidity where needed, lithe where required in the position.  The soft voice returned and she continued their semi-katas with that enchanting grin and glittering sapphire gaze that demanded he simply watch and admire her performance…

“I've laid in bed excited over you.  One hundred different way I've thought ya’.  Many, ma-aa-any.  Allll I got to say is,” they paired off again, Vegeta gritted his teeth, “If I was your girl,” his mind settled, “the things I’d do to you.”

He crossed his arms over his chest as she groped another man on stage…played with him like a toy… “I won’t.”  Their pelvises mocked touching again then she walked away from the man.  He crawled after her like a dog, reaching for her. She turned, grabbed his cheeks, then dropped him to fall flat on his face as she strutted past him.  Vegeta grinned wickedly, pleased with her dismissal of the weak specimen.  The male reared back and she stepped behind him so he could brace his back against her legs.  He reached back possessively for the back of her legs.  She lowered herself down behind him to drag her hands down his chest again then back up…she backed away from him, he jumped up, and the group went back to their katas.

“But I’m not. So I can’t.  So I won’t.”  The kata abruptly stopped when the Woman stared straight ahead, a daydreamy haze to her eyes.  Her hips swayed languidly and her hands travelled up her own body again as if she were imaging someone else’s erotic touch going where she wished they would, “I not.  I can’t.” She flung herself into leaning over nearly in double.

Suddenly the male struck a pose beside her, like he was trying to command her attention to him. She responded to him, turning to him, facing him, her hands on his chest.  She lowered herself before him, dragging her hands down wantonly with her. Staring up at him.  The sonuvabitch had the audacity to smirk as he looked down at her.  She rose back to her feet and walked around to face his back.  His smirk rose to gloat out at the audience.  Vegeta glared at him.  Bulma’s clawed hand came over his skull, snapped back his head, and dragged him down to his knees like the beta-male he was.  She flung him forward again.  His hands hit the stage.  She was at his side, reached a hand down to his chin, and slowly lifted him back up.

“If I was your woman, the things I’d do to you,” her hand came against his cheek as though to slap him, but she simply shoved his face away as she turned hers, “But I’m not.”

All the lights on the stage slowly faded to black.  The music ended.  The crowd cheered.  Vegeta watched the shadows still moving on stage.  The bright normal stage lights returned.  Bulma and her group stepped forward, hand in hand, in a line.  They smiled.  Bowed.  Waved and blew kisses to the audience.  Then retreated to the back of the stage as the Emcee came forward again.

“And that is why she is our reigning and still Champion of our Lip Sync Battle!  Give it up for Miss Bulma Briefs!”

Vegeta wove his way to the front of the stage as it’s lights dimmed back to the way it had been when he’d first entered and the blaring music damn well blew his ears off, but he’d adapted to it by now.  Out of the corner of his left eye, he caught sight of the woman and her dancers that had been performing on the stage prior to the Woman’s performance.  Their clothes were changed to the same style of club clothing that surrounded him.  So somewhere over there was a pathway that led to changing rooms?

His hunting instincts took over and the Saiyan slinked and moved as elegantly and intently as a black panther on the prowl towards the failed performers.  One of the dancer’s eyes spotted him and she drew the others attentions towards him as well.  Good, a teasing smirk slipped over his lips. He licked them suggestively and every single female licked theirs and struck what the obvious thought was an enticing pose to lure him to them and them alone.  As if, he scoffed, but sauntered up to the won that had done the singing; although he know realized that the horrible racket had been a mere recording as well, but all that told him was she made poor choices in showmanship…the Woman didn’t.

“You changed back there?”  He asked his voice gravelly and low.  Drawing the woman closer to him.

“Uh-huh,” she nodded.

“A hallway?”

“At the end,” she breathed, probably thinking it sounding lusty and inviting.  It didn’t, she sounded like she had allergies.

“Which room?” He made the question sound as suggestive as possible.

Her chest heaved, “Fifth one down on the left.”

His smile dropped. He ditched her where she stood, shoved past the others, and made his way in the semi-dark to the door that must be there to lead to this hallway.  Behind him, he heard the talentless females bitch about how rude he was, what an ass he was.  They had no knack for cursing him the way the Woman did, that drove him to want to bend her over her desk and take until the damn thing broke beneath her and then he’d keep taken her in the rumble until she herself crumbled into pieces…and even then he wasn’t sure he’d stop fucking her senseless.  A door of light illuminated ten feet infront of him, leading to a hallway lined with doors, and coming out of it were the same males who had performed with the Woman’s group.  Vegeta edged to the side of the wall, let the group past, then turned, raised a hand, and let the small ball of ki form in his palm.  He let it loose at the back of the head of the inferior male that had dared to pair of her.  The shot was weak but accurate.  The man’s head snapped forward making it look as though he tripped over his own feet and face planted to the floor, taking two others that had been walking in front of him with him.  Vegeta allowed himself a chuckle as he found the door handle in the dark, opened the door, and slipped through into the hidden stage left hallway.

*                      *                      *

It was bright, but Vegeta was thankful for the return to normal light in it’s normal color and some rainbow madness going in all directions at once.  The air was cool, not cloying with sweat despite there being nothing but performers being back here.  His dark eyes trained on the fifth door down on the left side.  He could hear the tittering laughter of woman muffled somewhere, most likely there.  As he neared, he was sure the sounds were coming from there.  Without hesitation, he opened the door…

*                      *                      *

The women gasped when they looked up at the intruder.  Judging by their expressions, they were undoubtedly expecting friends.  Not him. But there was one woman who didn’t even bother looking up from primping her hair in the mirror of the makeup station. And he headed right for her.

Bulma was back in her slinky, little, black dress with strappy high heels that made her legs look long and luscious and made him instantly want them wrapped around his waist like a flesh and blood belt. Immediately he leaned behind her, hands on the armrests of her chair.

“Vegeta,” she startled.  Staring at their reflections in the station’s mirror.  His eyes zeroed right in on hers.

Before she could say single thing, he closed her eyes and nuzzled the back of her neck.  His buried nose moved up her hairline to end behind her right ear. Scenting her deeply the entire way. She shuddered uncontrollably. Warmth pooling in her center.  His eyes half opened as his lips parted and he whispered next to her ear, “You are my woman.  Now what are those things you’re going to do to me?”

Her eyes bugged, Oh my Kami.  Her breath caught in her chest.  He’d seen her.  Seen her performance.  He opened his eyes the rest of the way.  The dark stare making her melt under it’s intense heat.  While she turned her chair around, he straightened.  When she faced him, she stood.  Instantly his hands were on her hips and his mouth devoured hers in a kiss so fierce it could only be described as sheer hunger.  He never did anything like this infront of others no matter what.  The two times they’d been together had both been private, illicit things that they’d kept secret and never talked of.  She indulged in the kiss just as much as him.  Her eyes closed.  Her hands rested on his absolutely ripped chest then glided caressingly up to the sides of his neck.  Their breathing coming loudly out of their noses.  Bulma tilted her head.  Drawing him even more into her.  Kissing him deeper.  Vegeta’s hands traveled lower and lower until he slipped them underneath the very short, short hemline of her scanty club dress.  A soft moan escaped her into his mouth at the feel of his rough, calloused, warrior’s hands slipping underneath her black lace panties to grab healthy handfuls of each of her butt cheeks.  She didn’t know whatever the hell it was that had gotten into him or why he was wearing the club clothes she’d bought him when he’d first decided to continue living on Earth or why he was even here, but thank Kami he had.  The kiss ended.  His breathing remained calm and steady while Bulma panted.  His dark eyes bored into hers again, a growl rumbled in his chest and she felt immediate wetness between her legs.  Kami, she loved it when he growled at her like that. It was like Saiyan for ‘Fuck me now!’

“Come back with me now, Woman,” he gave her ass a firm squeeze.

Her breathing hitched.  Yep, definitely Saiyan for ‘Fuck me now!’

She reached behind her and grabbed her clutch purse then led the way back to the door.

It didn’t escape their notices that the other women were glaring at Bulma jealously.  Finally one of the brunettes, the one with the meanest scowl crinkling her features spoke up as Bulma passed.

“Well, I guess it wasn’t only Yamcha who was getting something on the side while you two were together.”

Bulma froze.  So did Vegeta.

“We’re broken up,” Bulma’s voice was ice, “But why don’t you go running to his apartment to comfort him by spreading your legs again?”

The mouthy female paled. Vegeta stared at her, So this is the one she caught him with.  The one he finished with that night.  Gods, her ex truly was a pathetic excuse for a man and an idiot if he passed on Bulma to get with this woman.

Bulma turned a blank face to her ‘friend’ who had driven her and the rest of them out to the club tonight.

“But you should know that you’re the only one in this room he didn’t go back to for seconds?”

The woman’s eyes dropped to the floor.  The other women turned pale, looking away from Bulma as well.  Vegeta stepped up behind Bulma, he admired her ability to crush her enemies with just her voice.  He pressed his body to hers.  Her eyes widened when she felt his rock hard approval pressed firmly against her butt cheeks.  She grabbed his hand, “You girls have fun tonight, bye bye.”  She bolted out into the hallway with Vegeta right behind her.

*                      *                      *

They practically burst through the door that led back into the main part of the club, racing past the stage.  Bulma immediately headed left, her sights set on the front doors, but Vegeta yanked her over to the right.

“Not that way!” He shouted to be heard over the music.

“But, Vegeta, the doors are over there!”

“Back alley!”

She nodded and followed him as he led her to the bathroom hallway.  His grip on her hand tightened as he shoved them a path through the crowd.  Finally he pushed the door open and they were the dark alley.  Bulma looked around at the disgusting surroundings and noticed at least three couples getting in on.  Ugh, who the hell thinks fucking against a dumpster is—

Vegeta swept her up in his arms and took flight.

*                      *                      *

His speed was murder on her hair.  Kami dammit, I liked my perm!  Now the wind’s pulled all the curl out.  She still clung to him as they flew.  He stared straight ahead.  She looked at his face, his eyes.  So intent.  She wondered…

“Why?”  She asked him over the raging of the wind.

But the enigmatic Saiyan Prince ignored her.  Picked up speed instead.

Bulma took that as the only answer she was going to get out of him and buried her face in his neck, tightening her hold on him.  She felt his hold tighten on her.

*                      *                      *

He landed easily on her balcony.  As soon as her feet touched the floor, Bulma dropped her clutch, yanked on his neck, and smashed his lips to hers.  He forced her back, she followed as quickly as her heels would allow.  Her back hit the curved exterior right by the sliding glass doors to her bedroom.  Vegeta pressed his body to hers, pinning her.  Her leg slipped up his.  He took her cue and slid his hand down her rising thigh to her knee and hiked the leg up above his hip.  She moaned. He began grinding his leather against her lace.  As their lips continued to devour each other, she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. These Kami damn things!  She growled, gripped his shirt, and ripped.

Vegeta broke their kiss to stare down open mouthed at what the Woman had done.  I, I actually liked that shirt…he looked at her.

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

A sly smirk slowly tugged at the corner of his mouth…he slipped his hand under her skirt to her lace covered wetness.  And rubbed. She shuddered.  His fingers slithered underneath the sticky, flimsy barrier, the back of his fingers brushing her warm flesh.  She moaned, eyelids lowered, and she leaned her head back against the cool wall.  A wicked grin spread across his lips, his eyes never leaving her.  His fingers wrapped around her lace…and ripped.  Her head snapped up and she stared down between them.

“Vegeta!”

He tossed her panties away, “Buy yourself a new one.”

She gaped at him…but the look in his eyes.  Dark as space itself, but blazing with the fires of all the suns in it.  Bulma bit her lip, “Bed.  Bed now.”

He scooped her up and carried her inside.  Bulma began pulling off her strappy heels and throwing them wherever before turning to Vegeta and applying her lips to Saiyan Prince’s neck.  His hold on her tightened.  She smiled against his neck then dragged her teeth of so lightly down his throat.  He immediately tossed her on the bed.

She bounced high with a squeal and a contagious grin.  She’d wondered what that would do to him.  When he did it to her, she was putty in his hands.  Now she knew it had the same results for her.  She bit her lower lip as her glowered at her.  But his chest was heaving.  He stood at the foot of her bed.  His eyes never left her as he slowly slipped that fantastic blue-black shirt off (she really was going to have to buy him a new one of that because it was just perfect on him, lucious) and threw it to the ground.

Her chest began heaving when he put his hands on the edge of her bed…and began to crawl to her. Stalking her with all the primal heat that meant.  She bit her lip and retreated up her bed.  A wicked grin spread over his lips with that gleam in his eyes when he was on a hunt.  She knew’d that thrill the shit out of him.  Then this should absolutely drive him wild…She tried to dive off the bed. But she was too slow.  They both knew she was to slow.  With an intoxicating laugh, he pulled her back underneath him.  His hands traveled back up her hips…over her breasts, cupping them in a way that elicited a moan from her as she bit her lip again, and he discovered something…then he tore her dress in two.

She gaped again.

“I said buy yourself a new one.”

Then he reared up. She watched under his intense focus as he began to slowly undo his belt.  She hurried to shimmy the dress remnants off and toss them away.  He was right, she’s rich as hell, she can buy a new one.  And laid there naked as he began to just as slowly unbutton his pants.  Kami, this was his game with her as much she playing prey was her game with him.  He made her wait.  The ultimate test for the impatient woman…he took hold of his zipper pull and began slowly dragging it down…down…down.  She gripped the bed sheets; Kami, she was wet.  She saw his tip…his shaft…Oh Kami. Then his thumbs hooked into his waistband on his hips and pulled his pants down.  She gasped when his member sprung from it’s tight, black leather enclosure.  When his pants neared his knees, he sat back on her bed and pulled the pants the rest of the way off and tossed them.

Slowly he crawled back up her waiting body.  She parted her legs for him.  Welcoming him to her.  He stopped just above her spread legs, her scent filled his nostrils.  He closed his eyes and tracked the sweet, enticing smell down…he sniffed and kissed her knee, down…the tip of his nose caressed the inside of her thigh as his lips occasionally applied the softest of kisses, down…a violent shuddered went through her body when she felt his hot breath over her lips and the swollen bud between them.  He sniffed deeply, savoring her.  Then continued up to her waiting arms.  She wrapped her arms around his neck as his lips met hers. He tasted her deeply as he laid his body down on hers, his hands worshipping up and down her sides.  Her inner thighs rubbed against his hips as she raised her legs to wrap around the back of his legs.  The back of her knees fitting the back of his perfectly. His lips trailed to her jaw…down to her neck.  With one single movement, he slipped inside her.

She moaned as he began thrusting.  One of her hands clenched the back of his head while the other drifted to his bicep.

“Ah, Vegeta, ah.”

The tip of his tongue lapped up her pulse.

Her back arched beneath him, “Oh Kami!”

Gods, I love it when she does that.  He thrusted faster, harder.  Her bed began creaking.  

“Ah, ah, ah, ah,” she moaned in his ear with every thrust.

He gripped the bed sheets, burying his face into her neck.  Her hands shot under his arms to his back.  

“Kami, yes, yes,” she whined.  

Faster, harder.

“Ah, Vegeta, Vegeta!”

Her bed was rattling.

He started grunting as he pounded into her.

“Yes, ah, yes,” she groaned, “Ah, Kami, Vegeta!”

Her nails dug into his flesh.  Spurring him on.

Faster.

“Harder!  Ah, Kami, Vegeta, harder!  Harder!”

She screamed the magic words.

He drove into her relentlessly.

She screamed, “Vegeta!!”

“Woman,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

She kept screaming his name over and over.

“Gods, Woman.”  If she keeps this up, I’ll cum before she does.

“Ve-, ah, Vege-, ah, ah, Ve-,” her voice descended into whimpers.  She couldn’t say his name anymore.  She was trying to, but couldn’t.

“Gods,” he moaned. He could feel it in his balls.

Faster.  Faster.

She couldn’t even moan now.  The sounds getting choked off in her throat.  She was just as close as he was.

Harder. Faster.  Harder.

“Vege-, Vege, ah, ah, ah, Oh my Kami, oh my Kami, ah, ah, Veg-, ah, Vege-, ah, Ve-ge-TAAAAAA!!!”

She clung to him as her walls butterflied against his cock.  Her nails digging in fiercely.  Her legs spasming against his hips.  Her hips bucking.  She began whimpering as he refused to stop.

Faster. Faster.  Fast—

“Fuck, Woman!” He growled as he came in her.  His pelvis jerking, slamming into her ferociously. He groaned as he continued moving his hips, dragging out his own orgasm as his cock felt the fluttering aftershocks of hers.

They panted.  He heard her gulp for air a few times, trying to catch her breath, by his ear.  Her pulse throbbed against his lips, his heart pounded in his ears.

Suddenly he reared up.

“Vegeta?”  She asked breathlessly.

He pulled out of her and flipped her over.  

“Vegeta, what the hell?!”

He answered by grabbing her hips and thrusting into her again.  She popped up from the bed, her hands digging in to the sheets again.  

“Ah,” she screamed.

He pounding her just as relentlessly as before.  Gritting his teeth, he wrapped an arm around her stomach to hold her to him as he leaned over.

“Ah, Kami, Vegeta, yes!”

He kissed her shoulder blade…

“Ah, ah, ah!”

He kissed her shoulder…

“Mmmm, ah, hmmm, Shit!  Vegeta!  Uhnn, Kami, Vegeta!”

His free hand clawed a handful of sheets to balance himself on…

“Vegeta, Oh Vegeta!  Please, ah, pleaaase don’t stop!”

Gods, she knew how to do it to him every time. First Namek then her bedroom and now, Fuck, her bedroom again!

“Harder!  Please, uhnn, harder!”

Oh, he could fuck her harder…and faster again.

She was practically vibrating.  So was her bed again.  Her screams drowned out the creaking.

“Kami, Vegeta!  Vegeta!  Vegeta!”

Again she chanted his name at the top of her voice.  He felt his balls clench.  Every time, every time she’s screams his name in pleasure, every fiber of his body reacts. He was used to people screaming his name in implores to spare their lives, spare their villages, spare their planets.  They begged him for mercy.

“Ah!  Ah! Ah!  Oh, Ka-mi, Vegeta!”

She didn’t do that. Never had.  She bellowed it like a shrew when they fought and, Gods, did she fight him.  At first it aggravated him then…

He pounded into her faster.  Faster. Harder.  She was screaming incoherent sounds again.  He felt her arms give and his one arm was the only thing keeping her upper body from collapsing onto the bed and continuing to shriek into the sheet-covered mattress.  She held onto his arm across her stomach.  Her claws digging in again.

“Vegeta!! Vegeta!! Veget-,” she panted, “Ve-,” she panted, “Ve-!!”  She couldn’t do it.  She just could not do it.  She just couldn’t say his name any more.  Hell, she could barely manage to breathe!

“Wo-, ah, Wo-,” Fuck!  He couldn’t either.

She gripped handfuls of sheets in her hands.  Bowing her head.  Her gorgeous hair falling forward, exposing her neck to him.  He opened his eyes, staring at it.  Primal Saiyan urges surged in his mind through his proud Saiyan blood.  He pounded harder.  She screamed, no sounds, just screaming.  Harder. Gods, her neck.  Faster.

“Vege-, Veget-, Ve-, Ve-, Ve-, ah, ah, Ve-, VEGETA!!!”

He never felt her come so hard before.  Her walls didn’t flutter around his cock, they quaked.  Squeezing him inside her.  Begging to milk him dry.  Her whole body shook.  She spasmed. Every part of her tensed with the power of the pleasure he gave her.

Still he pounded… and pounded.  Her neck mesmerized him.  He felt… he felt��

“Fuck!  Woman!!” He roared, squeezing his eyes shut as he finally released his seed into her.  

He groaned as his body shuddered and jerked.  Her aftershocks squeezed his cock just as hard inside her as her orgasm had.  A few more powerful thrusts helped to eke out the last of his seed and prolong their pleasure before they were finally spent.

His hold loosened and she collapsed to down to her bed…and he collapsed on top of her.

She still gripped the sheets, but her hold was loose and her fists were shaking.  His breaths puffed across her face.  After awhile, he rolled off her.  He kept his eyes shut, trying desperately to bring his breathing under control.  Dammit, it shouldn’t be this hard for him.  He’d fucked her before, he fucked her twice before, why the Hell was this time so different?  Why couldn’t he stop panting?!

Bulma could barely open her eyes, but she saw him just as winded as she was…

“Why,” she whispered.

He opened an eye and looked over at her then shut it again as he looked away from her.

“I had to get his smell off you.”

“Who’s—”

“That other male,” he snapped, “the one from the stage.”

Her eyes widened, “Vegeta.”

“Never dance with him again.  Never let him touch you again.  You’re mine, Woman, no other male touches you but me.”

Jealous?  He’d seen her in her clubbing clothes going out with friends…and had followed her in clothes that would allow him to blend in so that he could make sure no other guy made a move on her except for him?!

She grinned.  He glanced at her again, this time with both eyes. His breathing finally starting to return to normal.  He could hear that hers was as well.  How ridiculous that it had taken him as long as her to stop panting?!

Suddenly she moved. He looked down at her hand on his chest. Her fingertips tracing the lines of his muscles.  Then she lifted herself up and he watched as she rose up to straddled his waist. Before he could ask what she thought she was doing, she slipped her other hand between her parted legs and rubbed her fingers between her soaked lips.  Her breathing hitched and her pelvis slowly bucked as she rubbed herself, her eyes closed with her head thrown back.  He gaped at her, her vulgarity causing his limp member to twitch again.  His hands grabbed her thighs.  She looked back down at him as she withdrew her hand from her pussy.  Her fingers and palm glistened with their juices. Keeping his attention on her, she slowly raised one of her glistening fingers to her mouth.  Her tongue licked up it’s length the same way she licked up his shaft.  She heard a low lusty rumble come from his chest.  She took the fingertip in her mouth, sucking on it.  His fingers gripped her thighs harder.  She took her whole finger in her mouth, sucking and rolling her tongue around it until the digit was clean, then she pulled it from between her lips with a pop.  His eyes were focused on her, back to being dark as space and burning with desire. She grinned mischeviously and made to lick her other finger when his hand lashed out and grabbed her hand. She watched him lower her hand to his mouth.  His tongue licked up her palm…her breathing caught in her chest, she felt her crotch moisten again…his tongue lapped up the length of her finger the same way he had licked her pussy the night her ex had disappointed her for the last time…a lusty moan rumbled in her chest…he took her fingertip in his mouth and sucked it gently the way he had her swollen bud that night…Bulma gasped and her toes curled. She was ready again…he took her whole finger in his mouth and sucked and licked it clean easily, he was ready again too.

“Vegeta,” she called, “More.”

His cock hardened between her legs.  She took her hand back and took hold of the rock hard, Saiyan royal penis.  She lifted her hips ever so slightly, placed his head at her entrance, then slid down his shaft.  He growled and she moaned.  He made to grab her hips, but she put her hands against his.  Threading their fingers together.  She bit her lip again as she guided his hands away from her hips.  As she leaned forward, she placed them on either side of his head then slide them up the cool linen of her pillows to just above his head.  She looked down at him.

“I made you a promise, Vegeta.”  Her voice playful.

“Did you?”  He can play too.

“Uh-huh,” she leaned further down to him, her breast resting on his chest, “I promised if I was you’re woman,” she kissed him with a nip at his lower lip, “the things I’d do to you.”

He smirked, getting comfortable, “Do your worst.”

“Try to keep up, Saiyan.”  She reared back up, keeping his hands pinned above his head.

“See if you can last, Woman.”  He allowed her to keep him restrained for both their carnal desires.

She grinned wickedly as her hips began to grind against him.

[emmaekay]

Keiyaku for TPTH Vegebul Smutfest

AN: I don’t really write a whole helluva lot of smut – and this is my first time participating in the @tpthvegebulsmutfest! I actually don’t usually write fics, despite the fact that I write for a living. Constructive criticism welcome!

Keiyaku is set in an AU where King Vegeta led a successful uprising against the Colds immediately after Prince Vegeta’s birth and takes place on Vegetasei. Also I feel like Shenron probably isn’t canonically strong enough to do what I have him do, but c’mon. Don’t @ me.

Day One – The Butterfly

“Fasting proposals are important, Vegeta! You will attend to this.” The King’s voice boomed after his son, rocking the door on its hinges as it smacked the wall. “You will.”

“I do not wish,” the prince spat, “now or ever, to entertain the whims of this kingdom, or of my father, or of a gaggle of women who have built me up in their minds to be some kind of fantasy –“ His rant was cut off, as his father – much the taller, still the stronger man, closed his grip around his son’s throat.

“I do not care, Vegeta. You – will – do – this.” The King voice was now low, quiet and deadly. “Never have I stood between you and your fate. Never have I kept you here on Vegetasei, even when I should. I have let you battle for your people, for your honor, and for your own power. You have never answered to this kingdom, or to me, and I have let you run the galaxy as a wild thing.” He released his grip, letting his son’s boots retouch the ground. “This is not a whim. This is of the utmost importance now.”

“…why?” Prince Vegeta rasped through swollen throat. “Why is this so important, and why now?” He narrowed his eyes, and for the first time since coming back to his birth planet, really studied his father’s face.  He was dark with anger, brows furrowed so like his own, but underneath… something else. Something primal. Something… something like fear.

“You will do this. And it will begin today.” The King turned, red cloak whipping behind him. “Your choices are there – on the table – you will choose three to meet with, today. And if those three are lacking, you will choose three tomorrow, and you will choose three to meet with every day until you find a women who will tolerate your capriciousness, your cruelty, and your life. And make her someone you can be loyal to for the rest of that life – royal infidelity is still punishable by death.”

And the discussion was over, abused door shut creaking behind the King as he stomped away. Vegeta was left, sore and furious, but bewildered enough now to comply. He trudged over to the table, to the black leather folders on it, to see if there were any women in this universe that were worth fasting.

What he needed was a woman who liked danger, adventure, and sex for breakfast. What he needed was a woman who could hold his attention for longer than a romp in the sack. He began to flip through the folders – saiyan women that all looked like him, like his mother, like his father. They wouldn’t mind the life he could offer them, but what could they give him but more of the same?

Bulma Briefs was pissed. Pissed and drunk. Pissed, and drunk, and she had dragon balls.

“I’ll ssshow him. I will! I’ll summon Ssshenron ‘nd have him neuter that Yamcha! Err I’ll wish for a better man. Or sumthin’! Sumthin,” she slurred, aloud and to no one. Bulma caught Yamcha, again, ogling some other woman’s … assets… as she’d been trying to ask him to move in with her! She wanted to take their relationship to the next level, and he wasn’t going to ask her to marry him anytime soon. This was her “meet me in the middle” compromise. And he couldn’t even be bothered to pay attention.

After that, Bulma had come home to crawl inside a bottle of rum. And then she decided to use the dragon balls to get her revenge.

“Rise Shenron, and grant me my wish!”

The sky darkened, deeply bruised against the setting sun, and from the gathered dragon balls, Shenron’s familiar form sprang up. “WHAT IS YOUR WISH?”

“Gimme uhhh,” she thought. What do I want? Do I want Yamcha hurt? Not… really, I guess. I want… to be wanted. I want a man who would kill for me. I want danger and adventure and more than anything, I want a man who won’t look at anyone but me.

“SPEAK YOUR WISH.”

“Take me to a man who needs me as badly as I need him! A man that will rock my world in bed and never betray me! Take me to the man I’m destined to be with!”

“YOUR WISH IS GRANTED.”

In a blink of nothing, everything Bulma had ever known was replaced by everything she never knew she wanted. A pile of her clothes fluttered to the ground, and that was the last impact she ever made on the Earth.

“Get the fuck off me!” Vegeta jumped up from the couch and doing so, dislodged the woman from his lap and onto the fasting candidate folders on the low table. She’d appeared from nowhere, totally nude, to sprawl across his lap. “Who the fuck are you? How the fuck did you get in here?”

This is a dream, Bulma thought drunkenly. I’m dreaming that I wished for Shenron to transport me to the man of my wildest fantasies. Might as well live it up!

“My name is Bulma Briefs and I want you to fuck me.”

Vegeta flushed bright red from his eyebrows to the tip of his stirring cock. Nappa. He sent up a whore, knowing that today I’m sealing my doom. He smirked. Where ever Nappa found her, he had to have paid a fortune. She was in pristine condition and her coloring was incredible – the softest blue hair, like the skies of those foreign planets he plundered for fun. Her skin was the creamest, milkiest white he’d ever seen. She looked like the rarest breed of Saiyan possible – everything was perfectly formed, but delicate where Saiyan women were robust. Her round breasts looked like they were exactly enough to fill his mouth… or his hands… or both. He felt his fingers twitch unbidden, as he imagined what she might feel like writhing under his hands.

“I want you,” Bulma said again, laying back on the table, “to fuck me. Hard and deep, until I forget every other man in the universe. I want you to bury yourself inside me and cum as hard as you can.” She looked up at the man over the top of her breasts. “Fuck me.”

Fine. Vegeta thought. One last conquest before the prince must be caged for all his days. He stripped his pants off, whipped his shirt over his head. “Vulgar woman.”

At the sound of his voice, Bulma felt her wetness start to slide down her thighs. Oh, that voice. Like velvet and sandpaper, like freedom and dominion, like her wildest dreams come true. “You have no idea… how vulgar I can be. What should I call you?”

“Vegeta,” he breathed as he stood over her, erection hard and hot at her entrance. “My name is Vegeta.”

Bulma raised her long legs straight up into the air and rested her ankles on the man’s broad shoulders. He was the perfect height – the perfect everything. His body was chiseled from granite, every muscle bulging and straining against his velveteen skin. His chest was marked by scars, and it rose and fell rapidly as his excitement grew. She couldn’t see his erection, but she could feel the tip against her. Thick and hot. She pressed herself against it, ready to envelop him and feel him filling her from the inside. He angled his erection up, away from her entrance, to lay heavily on the most sensitive bit of her womanhood.

“Not so fast, woman.” He spoke again, and dipped his body low on top of hers. As he moved, his cock slid along her clitoris, sending thrills through her body and spiking her nipples hard in seconds. He took one nipple in his mouth and cupped her other breast in his hand, squeezing roughly. He rolled his tongue against her nipple and Bulma’s back arched against the table underneath her as she whimpered. “Ohh!”

Vegeta pulled his hips back and rocked them forward again, and again, moving slickly across her most sensitive spot. “How does that feel? You’re making a mess of my table,” he growled against her chest, nipping her breast with sharp teeth as he spoke. “Tell me how much you want me.” Bulma cried out again, feeling the pressure building between her hips. “Ohh! Oh, Vegeta, it feels incredible. I’m – I’m going – Ahhnn!” She shook underneath him as he reached down with one hand to furiously rub her swollen sex and she came around his fingers. Not waiting for her to recover, Vegeta used his hand to guide his member into her and Bulma brought her hips off the table to slam into him. He straightened his back to stand over her, supporting her legs on his chest as he moved inside her.

She was glorious underneath him. Pretty face flushed red, bottom lip sucked in to her mouth, white teeth biting down on it seductively. With every thrust inside her, her breast bounced and swung. Perfect pink nipples – the right one ringed by marks from his teeth.  He could smell her sweet arousal. She smelled delicious when she came around his hand. Like honey and vanilla – sticky, sweet. He licked her juices off his fingers as he swung into her again, again. He felt himself nearing the climax and she began to shake underneath him, breathing his name and little oh – oh – oh sounds like a wounded animal begging to be put out of its misery. He laid his chest flat on hers and buried his face in her neck, opening his mouth to graze her soft neck with his teeth as the tension in his cock released.

He came hard inside her, feeling his manhood jump and empty. She shrieked in his ear as he bit down into her neck, drawing blood. But her shriek was in pleasure and she grabbed his ass and shoved him hard into her as she reached another shattering orgasm.

This is the best dream sex I’ve ever had! Bulma thought

She was the best he’d ever had, Vegeta admitted, as he pulled away from her and helped her to a sitting position atop the folders of women who looked like his mother, who were waiting to be summoned to his quarters to be evaluated for compatibility and tolerance to his whims and his cruel nature. Long meetings and probably a few physical battles and a host of stupid traditions as he attempted to frighten them off and they attempted to tolerate him. Unless…

“I will get you some clothing and you will bathe. After which you will be presented to my father, the King, as my chosen women for the Life Fasting.”

Bulma pinched herself on a tired thigh. Once, twice, three times – but it appeared she wasn’t dreaming after all. She had just fucked a complete stranger and now it sounded like she was going to be his wife.

[scarletraven1001]

Look At Us

Aging is inevitable, and though it never bothered Bulma before, being made hyper-aware that her husband’s body seemed frozen in time while hers was quickly changing had suddenly become difficult for her to acknowledge. Her own vanity aside, she couldn’t help but wonder if he could keep on loving her when she starts to look twice his age.

As she agonizes over her doubts, Vegeta acts, intent on putting her fears to rest.

[An older Bulma/Vegeta fic, post end of DBZ. One-shot.

For the February 2018/Spring 2018 @tpthvegebulsmutfest. 

Day one: The Butterfly.

Also on Ao3.]

8-8-8-8-8

Look At Us

8-8-8-8-8

Bulma Briefs has always been a confident woman.

Dissenters would say that she is downright overconfident, but to this, she says that it isn’t really overconfidence if one has the brains, money and looks to back them up… And Bulma has always had more than enough of all those.

She was intelligent – this, no one can deny. Her father may have been the one to pioneer capsule technology, but since Bulma took the reins of Capsule Corp, their company had risen to become the most powerful conglomerate the world has ever seen. She patented a ridiculous amount of new technology, all of which are currently leading the entire planet into the biggest industrial revolution since the industrial revolution.

She was filthy rich. Capsule Corp is worth trillions of zeni, and she has multiple properties all over the world. She is currently the sole inheritor of the entire estate, since her elder sister Tights had basically disappeared and did not want anything to do with all the money and technology.

As for beauty, not to brag, but Bulma has never met a man who did not give her a second, third or fourth glance. In her youth, she was considered the most eligible bachelorette, and her early adulthood had been full of men willing to give an arm and a limb to woo her, pursuing her even after she had already married a man who had literally given all arms, limbs and his entire corporeal form to save her from the threat of an evil bouncing pink blob of destruction.

Bulma had everything, and was thus one of the most self-assured people you would ever meet.

Until today.

She stared forlornly into the mirror, poking and prodding at the fine lines that had begun to appear on her once perfect face.

Bulma knew that she looked absolutely gorgeous for a woman in her fifties. She was also smart enough to acknowledge that unfortunately, she still stood no chance if she were to compete with women in their prime. She knew that her body was changing… aging.

Bulma Briefs was growing old, and no amount of money and brains could help her with that. She had reached menopause a couple of years ago, and she had to admit that her skin had lost some of its elasticity then.

She wouldn’t say that she didn’t mind aging, because she really did. She was a bit sore about it. But since she knew she was still good-looking for her age, she wasn’t truly too upset about it. She had not really been too self-conscious, until it had been oh, so blatantly pointed out to her.

She had been shopping with Vegeta and ten-year old Bulla when it happened. Bulla, true to her Saiyan roots, looked a bit younger than her actual age, as she had yet to reach the age of her next growth spurt. Vegeta had barely aged at all, looking perpetually like the thirty-something year old man that Bulma had started an illicit affair with more than two decades ago.

Bulma was holding Bulla’s hand, standing a foot away from Vegeta, when a woman giving out free candy samples had smiled at them, handing Bulma a bar of chocolate, and said:

“Here ma’am, for your adorable granddaughter!”

Bulma stilled, her eyes wide and locked in disbelief at the woman, and Vegeta, sensing the sudden drop in her ki, went on the defensive, brows furrowed, fists clenching as he advanced.

“What the fuck did you just say to my wife?” he snarled, moving to stand in front of Bulma, as if to defend her from an incoming attack. It was an entirely unnecessary gesture, making Bulma numbly realize that her emotions must have gone so haywire that Vegeta had actually seemed to panic. “This child,” he pointed to Bulla, “is our daughter.”

“Oh my gosh! I am so sorry,” the woman, red as a tomato, burst out, bowing low before them in absolute mortification. She peered up at Bulma and Bulla before stuttering, “I am so sorry! You look alike, and she is such a little girl, so I had assumed… I am so sorry! Please forgive me!”

“It’s alright, I’m not mad,” Bulma said, smiling even though her mind was still reeling.

She had been mistaken for Bulla’s grandmother.

She looked at her husband, who was still venomously glaring at the girl who had yet to move from her low bow.

It was then, as she stared at her overprotective husband’s youthful body, his strong arms and perfect face, that she realized that it was only a matter of time before she started looking like Vegeta’s mother.

Hell, she probably already did.

She had immediately told Vegeta that she was feeling unwell, and the three quickly and quietly made their way back home.

Vegeta had tried to make her forget about the incident, but she had softly brushed him aside, saying that she just wanted to rest.

“Are you certain?” he had asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Yes, don’t worry about me. Now, go train. I did promise uninterrupted training if you went shopping with us this morning,” she smiled, touched by his concern.

“If you are feeling unwell -”

“Vegeta, just go, I know you can’t wait to try out my new upgrade on the training room,” she jibed, giving him a soft push in the direction of said room. “I’ll be just fine.”

Bulma lied. She had been moping in their bedroom ever since.

She sighed, standing up to remove her blouse. Dropping the article of clothing on the floor, she looked back up at her reflection, only to release another tremulous breath.

Now that she was really paying attention, Bulma was stricken by how much she looked nothing like she used to. Her skin had slightly discolored in some areas and her once flat and hard stomach had softened. Her sides had some loose skin. Her breasts, though still being held up in her bra, had visibly dropped, reminding her painfully of how, a few years ago, separate incidents with Jacco and Son-kun had both told her that she had “saggy” breasts.

She held back tears as she continued perusing her body, dropping her pants to join her blouse, and she now stood in her underwear before the large mirror. Her chest nearly heaved as she looked at her legs… her legs, her once beautiful legs. Her legs had been long and slim, perfectly shaped, with small ankles and beautifully rounded knees. Now, she could see lines along her upper thighs and –

The sound of the bedroom door opening pulled Bulma rather harshly from her self-deprecation. She turned around to find none other than Vegeta, shirtless and sweaty and looking so deliciously perfect that the tears she had been holding back started falling unbidden down her cheeks.

Vegeta blanched, his eyes growing wide at the sight of her tears. He rushed to her, and Bulma was helpless to do anything other than grab him around the waist and bury her sobbing face into his firm, youthful chest.

She understood his alarm. After all, since he had known her, Bulma may scream and bitch to the high heavens, but only a truly devastating event could make her cry.

His arms went around her, surrounding her in a strong comforting cocoon, his fingers clutching at the skin of her back as she continued to cry into his skin.

“Bulma,” he began, his voice full of uncertainty. “You are still upset. It was a stupid mistake. I knew you’d be angry… but I do not understand why you are so sad.”

Bulma looked up into Vegeta’s eyes, and his confused face just melted her heart even more. She burrowed back into his chest as she started speaking. “I… Vegeta, I am… I don’t know what to say. I just never really realized that I had gotten so old, and you… you haven’t changed a bit.”

“I thought you understood that we Saiyans don’t age like you earthlings. We all - ”

“Yes, I know!” she interrupted. “You stay in your prime longer so you can fight longer. It’s just…”

She took a deep breath, holding back a sob as Vegeta kept holding her, squeezing her slightly in encouragement.

“I just don’t know how you can continue wanting to be with a grandma like me when you still look like this,” she finally admitted, her long-buried deep fears surfacing amidst her rioting feelings.

It was right then, as she held his gorgeous body in her arms that Bulma realized that she had known for a long time that she had been growing older at an alarming rate compared to her husband… and that she had also, for a long time, been anxious about when he would start resenting being married to a woman who may soon begin to look twice his age.

She agonized over what it would be like for him to be stuck with her once she got too old and became unable to satisfy his body.

Her usual confidence, nay, arrogance, had kept her fears at bay. Seeing her doubts laid out so clearly before her had shaken her, and now, for perhaps the first time in her life, Bulma Briefs felt insecure and inadequate.

She felt like an insect whose life was so short and insignificant that it had already begun to whither while the world around it has only begun to flourish.

In spite of all the money, fame and recognition, Bulma knew that Vegeta and their small family of four had become her life, and she would be long gone before they even began to slow down from their primes.

She was so deep in the mire of her misery that she didn’t even notice that Vegeta had pulled away from her, holding her at arm’s length as he looked at her with a frown.

“Woman,” he started, and that got her attention. She snapped up, meeting his eyes as he stared at her in disapproval. He rarely called her that anymore, not unless he was angry or irritated at her.

“Did you honestly think…” he began, before cutting himself off with a growl, a familiar tick starting over his left eye.

He pulled away from her, then reached for one of her hands with his, leading her away from the mirror that she had been torturing herself with. Wordlessly, he pulled her behind him, their steps bringing them to the doorway leading into their private bathroom.

He opened the door and walked in, pulling her with him. He stopped before the large marble counter that held her beauty products, products she glared at with disdain as she thought of how those stupid expensive bottles couldn’t keep her from growing old, anyway.

Behind that low counter was the large bathroom mirror, and she gazed into it, watching their reflections as he turned and locked the bathroom door. His back glistened, her eyes greedily taking him in, and she turned away from the mirror to face him, feeling that not even a perfectly reflective surface could capture the perfection that was her man.

A chill set into her limbs as the colder temperature of the bathroom registered and she shuddered, and Vegeta, always in tune with her, rubbed his warm palms up and down her arms before he reached behind her and unclasped her bra.

Her hands shook as he slowly slid the garment down her arms, and she stood there fighting a ridiculous impulse to actually cover her breasts to conceal them from his view. She did not remember being this hesitant to let Vegeta see her body even when he had first taken her to bed, and shame filled her along with guilt when she realized that she was actually embarrassed to be nude before her own husband and lover of twenty odd years.

Vegeta, on his part, seemed to completely ignore her misgivings as he reached up and reverently cupped her breasts in his hands. He looked up at her face to see a red blush staining her cheeks, and he chuckled teasingly at her uncharacteristic shyness.

“Bulma, whatever you are thinking, stop it. You are my wife,” he said in a near whisper, a growl of reprimand in the edges of his tone. “I wish to touch my wife. To bathe with my wife.”

Bulma nodded, feeling his bare hands slowly travel down her sides to rest softly at the curve of her hips. He tucked a finger into the elastic of her panties, pulling it taut and quickly releasing it to let it snap her skin, and she jumped softly while the infuriatingly handsome man just smirked at her.

He pulled away then, his hand reaching down to remove his own pants, the motion of him stooping down and slowly divesting himself of the skintight material leaving Bulma breathless with both longing and a bit of agitation.

He truly was perfect. A finer specimen would be impossible to come by. She had always known that her husband was a god among men but with her confidence fledgling, she wasn’t quite sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing to be with such a beautiful man.

He kicked his pants away from his feet and stood bare in front of her, his battle scars painting a pale and stark contrast against the smooth richness of his skin. His powerful thighs, etched with sinewy muscle, rippled hypnotically as he took a step closer to her, reaching down to hold her hips once again.

“Bulma, I expected you to be naked by now as well,” he smirked, his fingers holding on to the edges of her panties as he pushed them down her hips, Bulma automatically twisting her legs to let the garment fall to the ground.

He leaned back, letting his eyes rove over her form, the wicked light behind his eyes sending a thrill through her as she saw the desire painted in his dark orbs.

He pulled away from her then to turn on the water in the bathtub, and she watched as he walked from one side of their bathroom to the other to turn on the shower and adjust the temperature. With his back turned to her as he reached down to adjust the shower temperature, Bulma could practically touch the thick air of yearning that surrounded her as she watched his body, mesmerized at his rounded buttocks. She intimately knew the feel of that taut skin in her hands, how the muscles clenched as he strained against her in the throes of passion.

She stopped daydreaming when he turned to her with his hand outstretched, a mischievous gleam in his eyes and she knew without a shadow of doubt that he could sense how aroused she had gotten just watching him move around.

She reached for his hand and followed him as he stepped into the shower with her in tow. He pulled her close to him as they stood under the spray of water, and Bulma could feel his warmth more keenly than she felt the heat of the water falling against her back.

He shifted back and reached up for her shampoo, and she watched him pour a generous amount into his hand, working it into a lather before he brought his soapy hands up to her short blue hair. She chuckled at him as he washed her, before bringing his sudsy hands up to wash his own hair as well.

“Vegeta, since when have you started using my shampoo?” she laughed and he just smirked back at her, continuing to rub her apple-scented shampoo into his hair.

He turned again to pick up his body wash, and pouring a large handful out, he lathered again, scrubbing his body clean. She watched as he cleaned his strong arms and chest, before he leaned down to clean his thighs, his legs, and the apex of him. His movements were quick and systematic, but Bulma was enthralled by his every movement over that body that she loved so dearly.

Bulma was so intent on her admiration that she realized that she had not moved to clean herself at all. She began to reach for her own soap when a large hand on her wrist stopped her.

“Let me,” he said softly, almost inaudible amidst the pattering drops of water falling about them. He took her body wash and proceeded to wash her up, nudging her arms up to hang loosely by her sides so he could thoroughly wash her whole body. His strong hands were quick but gentle, softly stroking her breasts, her stomach, her sides…

His hands on her lulled her into a sense of peace, and her breaths hitched each time he passed a hand over her nipples. He started making his way down to her hips, his hands going around her to stroke and wash the soft globes of her buttocks, pulling a surprised squeak from her when he, with a lascivious grin, playfully squeezed her butt cheeks before continuing down to her legs.

The water cascaded down them as he kneeled down to rub the soap over her, meticulously cleaning her thighs and legs. She looked down at him, his head bowed as he worked, and Bulma let her fingers drift down to tangle amongst the wet strands of his wild, spiky hair.

Bulma felt warmth building up in her chest as he carefully tended to her, her eyes misting as she registered the softness with which he treated her body. It was these moments, with his quiet and tender caresses, that really drove home the fact that he was truly the only man for her.

She loved him so much… this was the root of her distress. If she kept aging so much faster than him, she was going to leave him behind too early. Bulma knew that Vegeta was a changed man, but she couldn’t help but worry about him should she not be around anymore. Who would treat his wounds when he pushed himself too much when training? Who would feed him? Who would calm him down when he was angry? She just wanted to always be there for him.

She also knew that he loved her too. Even without words, he let her know that everyday. His actions fed her heart and soul, and the way he touched her now was no different.

Would he be sad when she was gone? Was he going to be alright? Will he think about her often?

Her thoughts stalled when his hands journeyed up to her center to clean her there, a gasp spilling from her lips as he carefully caressed her intimate parts.

She could feel his hot breaths against her lower stomach. Bulma closed her eyes, the familiar touch of heat spilling forth from her as she felt the stirrings of desire form in the pit of her stomach.

Vegeta lifted his hands up as the water rinsed the suds from her body, his fingers stretching across her lower back while his mouth moved closer to her, placing a delicate kiss below her navel.

His lips started a trek across her lower abdomen, licking and kissing her skin, hot air blowing harshly from his mouth and nose as he dipped down, his lips hovering dangerously close to her center.

Bulma gasped, her grip on his hair tightening convulsively as his own fingers groped her ass, pulling her body closer to him as his teeth naughtily nipped at her upper thighs, close to the heated part of her that had begun weeping for his touch.

She felt the tip of his nose at her entrance and she hissed, desire flooding her at the promise of pleasure from his touch. Holding her hips steady with sturdy hands, he blew a breath into her before she felt his tongue flip up to touch the heated bundle of nerves at her core.

“Ah! Vegeta,” she cried out, while he pushed his tongue into her, tasting her body, devouring her lust to feed his own.

The water kept pelting down on them as he worked her body into a frenzy, and before she even realized what had happened, she was against the shower wall, her back against the cold tile as he lifted her left leg to rest against his shoulder, his mouth continuing its desperate search for her essence, making her arch closer to him with a wordless plea for more.

She kept one hand on his head, the other clasping onto the slippery, wet wall behind her as she moaned and gasped at his attentions. Her right foot stood on tiptoes as his fervor pushed her higher up against the wall, his mouth diligently covering each inch of her core.

One of his hands reached up to play with her folds, and Bulma groaned loudly at the sensation of his hand massaging her while his mouth continued its wicked exploration. Two fingers entered her, and Bulma pulled roughly at his hair, her head falling back and loudly hitting the wall. Her mouth was slack as he sucked at her bud, her breathing becoming labored as she unwittingly let some water from their shower fall into her throat.

He kept working her with his mouth, lips and tongue kissing, sucking and blowing erotically at her until she could take it no more, and she groaned his name out as she came, short gasping breaths leaving her while he kept licking her long after she had climaxed.

He stood then, and Bulma’s eyes found his arousal, hard and hot, and she needed to have him in her so badly in that moment that she threw herself into his arms and attacked his lips with hers, her mouth hungrily slanting over his while his arms enveloped her in an inescapable embrace.

She felt her feet leave the tiled floor as he lifted her, and she wrapped her arms and legs around him, grinding her heat against his length. She expected to be pushed against the wall, but to her surprise, he walked away from the shower and brought her to the threshold of their bathroom.

She found herself seated on the marble counter, and she hissed as the cold stone touched her skin. She didn’t stay cold for long, as his thick and powerful form dominated her, his arms possessively holding her against him.

She scooted closer to him, using her legs around him as leverage to pull herself to the very edge of the hard surface. He was so hot and hard against her, and she cried out in delight as his lips pulled away from hers to leave bites and kisses along her throat.

One of his hands tangled into the hairs at the back of her head and pulled, making her neck arch against him as he laved her with hot, open-mouthed kisses. His mouth travelled down, his hot breath tickling her breasts, before he leaned down and caught a nipple into his mouth.

She keened in delight, her hands clutching greedily at his back, scratching him, pawing hungrily at his thick muscles. She was so desperate for his body by now, and she wanted him inside her so madly that she felt tears in the sides of her eyes.

“Vegeta-ah!” she cried as he bit her nipple. “Please… oh please…”

“Please what, Bulma?” he growled against her skin, teasingly scraping his teeth against her mounds.

“I need you so bad. Please… please let me have it!” she panted, grinding her wetness against him, hoping to coax him into entering her.

“Look at me,” he commanded, and she did, so delirious with desire that she would have stolen the sun for him if he had asked, if it would mean that he would sate the fire burning inside her.

He leaned up and pulled her face close to his, staring directly into her eyes, and Bulma took in every single action, every single harsh breath.

“I want you to remember,” he growled harshly against her cheek as he let the tip of him tease her opening, close enough to enter her.

“That this,” he rubbed against her, and she mewled. “this is ours, Bulma. Ours. Only you could do this to me.”

“Vegeta!” she gasped, his words penetrating her muddled thoughts.

Just then, he pulled his torso away from hers, his throbbing hardness still gliding against her core. He placed his hands on her shoulders, pushing her to lie back against the counter.

He placed her down so the mirror was to her side, and his arms reached out to recklessly push the various bottles off the counter to make space for them.

She laid back, a shocked exhale leaving her when he pulled her hips up to align it with his. Her upper back was against the cold surface, her arms flat against the counter, while her hips were tilted up. She watched as Vegeta leered at her from above her, the position making it easy for him to see all of her, and she felt his hard body nudging at her lower lips as he pulled her legs up to rest on his shoulders.

He grasped her hips, and with nearly brutal force, he pulled them onto his, impaling her so suddenly that she screamed in ecstasy, her back arching wildly, her entire form convulsing as another orgasm suddenly pushed its way out of her body.

Vegeta didn’t even let her recover, quickly pulling in and out of her shuddering body while his hands gripped her, his fingers digging into the flesh of her buttocks.

“I will always want this Bulma. I will always want you,” he rasped, his eyes burning into hers, his words stirring her heart while his body pressed insistently into her own.

“Vegeta,” she keened again, her body overwhelmed with pleasure while her mind was overcome by his love. “Please. Always love me. I have always - ” a particularly hard thrust cut her off and she moaned long and low.

Her breasts bounced up and down, drawing his eyes to the orbs, while he growled, “Tell me, Bulma. Say it!”

“Oh, ooooh!” she moaned “Vegeta! I have always loved you. So much!” she cried, tears gathering again in her eyes as his own flashed wildly.

A loud groan left her and she turned her head, only to stare lustfully as their carnal activities were reflected off the mirror she was now looking into. She was hopelessly turned on by the sight of him pounding her forcefully, his face intense as he watched her body bend to his tantalizing touches.

He pulled out from her and she almost cried out in loss, but then he pulled her down from the counter and turned her so she faced away from him. She was now facing the mirror, and through it, she watched his flushed face as he moved to stand beside her.

She leaned on her arms, prepared to take him from behind, when he suddenly reached up with one arm, wrapped it around her waist, and lifted her so her back was to his chest.

She instinctively reached behind her to wrap an arm around his neck, her other hand finding purchase on his muscular forearm. He reached down with his other arm and pulled one of her legs up. With her body braced against him, the arm across her waist released her, pulling her other leg up so she was stretched open before him, Vegeta lifting her with a hand clutching her under each thigh. He crouched slightly, legs parted, his powerful thighs helping balance her and support her weight.

They both looked into the mirror, staring at her completely open before him, his cock rigid as he rubbed her core, ready to enter her again.

She hesitated a little at the sight of herself, remembering how she criticized her changing body so harshly just a few hours before.

Vegeta caught on to her feelings immediately.

“Bulma,” he growled into her ear. “Look at us.”

He began to lower her body onto his, his hard length slowly entering her, a hiss leaving his lips while a moan left hers. Their eyes were both glued onto the mirror before them.

When he was fully inside her, he kissed her cheek, his breaths panting over her skin as he started to lift her up and down, his hips thrusting up into her as she felt him going oh, so deep inside her.

“Look at us, Bulma,” he groaned, a small shriek leaving her mouth as he punctuated his words with deep, sharp thrusts.

Her breasts bounced harshly as he filled her again and again, and she found herself unable to look away from their image on the mirror.

His features were twisted in pleasure, his lips teasing her jaw while his eyes stayed trained on her reflection. She could see him, flushed, panting… his eyes alight with adoration, for her.

It was hot. She realized as she watched them in the throes of passion that them, making love, looked so, so hot.

He was so beautiful, they looked so good together, and she realized that no matter how other people saw her, in his hands, she felt like the most beautiful being to ever exist.

He made her feel exquisite. He made her feel loved.

She realized that the beauty and privilege of her youth had been her cocoon, a protective layer that made all things come easily to her. She was sheltered and ignorant to the woes of reality, living in a fantasy world with magic and mayhem.

This cocoon gave her the chance to grow, molded her into something magnificent. Now, in his arms, she had matured, flourished… in his hands, she had morphed like a butterfly, older and wiser, carrying all the experiences of her past, and made stronger and more beautiful by them. To him, she was not defined by the smoothness of her skin and the firmness of her body. To him, she was precious and always dearly cherished. To him, she was perfect.

Just as perfect as he was, to her.

He was an insufferable, prideful man, full of scars on the inside and out, insensitive to others and painfully uncouth…

But to her, he was everything.

He made her see that she, loud and overbearing, wrinkly and saggy, may have her flaws, but she was his everything.

They will always be perfect to each other…. Perfect for each other… Each other’s everything.

“Do you see it now?” he growled, and she nodded, turning her head so she could meet his mouth with her own. She captured his lips, kissing him with desperate need. Her tongue tangled hungrily with his, teeth clashing in their fervor, and Bulma tried to let him know, through her kiss, that she knew what he had done… that she loved him so much, that she was so happy that they found each other in the vast universe, as she knew that he was absolutely the only one who could make her feel this way.  

He pulled away from her kiss, pressing his forehead against hers as he gazed deep into her eyes.

“See how much I want you, Bulma? That will never change,” he swore to her, his eyes staring intensely into her, drilling the truth into her heart as his body drove hers to incredible heights.

“You,” he whispered defiantly, “are MY Bulma. Always.”

“Yes!” she screamed, tears at his words falling from her eyes and mixing with the sweat that now coated their bodies. She called out his name, her head falling back, and his quick movements made her lift her head again, needing to watch them love each other, to see him claim her, fuck her, make her his all over again.

Unable to look away, she kept watching as their movements became more ardent, more urgent, as she writhed against him, desperate to bring them both to completion.

With her body as open as she currently was, he went so deep inside her that stars were bursting in the backs of her eyes.

“Vegetaaaah,” she moaned, ending in a harsh gasp. “Vegeta, I love you. I want you. Let me feel you cum for me.”

He groaned, moving faster, more desperately, and in a flash, he gripped her harder against him, his hips all but pummeling hers as his teeth clamped harshly against her bared neck.

Suddenly, it all became too much, and with a shriek from her, and a groaned expletive from him, they came together, their bodies, hearts and minds in perfect sync in their shared ecstasy.

They watched as his release filled her to the brim, his essence sliding down her wide open thighs. His knees buckled as he finished, and with a gasp, he slowly moved, letting her legs fall as he gathered her body in his arms again. He slumped down with her on the floor, her form wrapped in his embrace.

For several minutes, all that could be heard from them were harsh and stuttered breaths. Bulma was the first one to break the silence.

“The shower is still on,” she smirked.

“Don’t care,” he mumbled into her hair.

“The bathtub is overflowing.”

“The bathtub can go fuck itself.”

“Vegeta, we’re wasting water.”

“Bulma, you have more than enough money to pay for the water bill.”

She laughed heartily, pulling his face close to hers, giving him a soft kiss that he returned eagerly.

She extricated herself from his arms and pulled herself up, standing before him in all her nude glory, her confidence renewed by his touch and the way his eyes still roved over her like she was the most immaculate vision to ever grace his eyes. She reached down, offering a hand to him, and he, without hesitation, grasped it in his own.

“Tch,” he sneered as he stood. “I guess we should wash up again.”

“Yup,” she agreed, pulling him to the bath with a grin.

Oh, how she loved this man. And today, he had managed to soothe her fears and keep her mind at peace in a way only he knew how.

He deserved a relaxing massage in the bathtub, at the very least.

8-8-8-8-8

END

8-8-8-8-8

 End Notes:

I headcanon that Saiyans have an aging pattern wherein they grow old in spurts. They look identical for several years in their childhood, hit a spurt, age into a pre-teen, look the same again for a few more years, until they hit their spurt that turns them into an adult. Their next one comes around their thirties, and they look about this age indefinitely until they hit their last few growth spurts into old age. This HC kinda played into this story.

References for the Butterfly Position came from here and here.

Feedback would be greatly appreciated!

[deedilyfields]

Spring 2018 Smutfest: Prompt 1

Summary: This submission is the second part of the two-shot fic I started on the previous smutfest, under the prompt Guilty Pleasure: Lectures on Phonetics. In this second part, we finally have accomplished college student Bulma being taught a lesson on phonetics by her strict professor. 

Rating: 18+

Warning: Student/Teacher relationship

I hope you like it @tpthvegebulsmutfest !

2. Consonants

Heart galloping in her chest and struggling through shallow breaths, two distinct urges warred inside Bulma’s blurred mind. Her domineering ego demanded her denial of his proposition, claiming that she didn’t need any of his lectures. Her pride reaffirmed her brilliance: a genius, she should be the one giving him a private lesson, not the other way around.

However, as the condescending professor carefully brushed her locks aside, coarse fingers ghosting over the exposed slip of her neck, a rival instinct emerged victorious — her submissive need to turn herself over to his ministrations, sucking up every drop of what the professor’s rugged body had to teach her, eager to please and be pleased. Her logical reasoning had no other choice but to retreat, a final coherent thought flashing in its wake.

I’m doomed.

If she was being honest to herself, she became a goner the moment his domineering gaze fell on her feisty one in class, halting any argument that she might have come up with, a brow arched, daring her to fight back while simultaneously commanding her to submit. For the first time in the heiress’s life, words —hell, her breath failed her. Faced with his callous methods and impressive intellect, the brilliant student felt humiliated… and excited. She knew he saw that, thrived on that.

Now, as the end of her second semester under his tutelage approached, the usually level-headed, independent young woman found herself again perched on that infamous desk, pale legs clinging desperately to his waist, hands braced on his clothed pectorals as dexterous fingers swiftly unbuttoned her blouse. Lolling her head back, the accomplished student bared her throat to her superior as he pushed the garment open and down her arms, avid mouth latching onto the newly exposed skin without missing a beat.

If Bulma was the stuff of dreams, Vegeta was the fabric of sin.

Every touch of his, as small as it may be, set her ivory skin alight, feeding the flames brewing in her core, the ones only him seemed able to ignite. The heiress had never needed anything —or anyone— like her body, her whole being craved his. As he lavished her neck, a frantic hand darted into his wild mane, aching for more proximity, more of him. His dark chuckle fanned over her humid skin, prompting gooseflesh that ran all the way to her toes.

“Eager to start, are we?” he husked in her ear, taking her lobe in his wet lips. Struggling through the heady haze she stuttered a moan of affirmation. “Very well.”

Drawing back to fix his dark gaze on her flushed face, he looped an index under the latch between her breasts and flipped, popping open the lacy navy-blue brassiere deftly. Even being thoroughly used to his expertise by now, the young student couldn’t help but gasp at the move, prompting the cocky curl of his lips. Forget her sanity, this man would be the death of her.

“On to consonants, then.”

Even barely able to make sense of his words, the observant student didn’t fail to notice his ominous gaze falling to her breasts. Another jolt of arousal coursed through her at the attention, hardening her nipples, to the dominant professor’s delight. Yes, his desire for her fueled the temptress inside of her and Bulma found herself bracing both hands on the desktop behind her, jutting out her chest — another submissive response he always managed to evoke from her.

It was all the prompt he needed.

A flash of pearly whites and his calloused hands were on her, cupping, testing the weight. The young woman had to bite her lip hard not to moan at the ministrations, her dazed gaze captured by his teasing one. He pinched one nub; she mewled. That cocky smirk once again took hold of his face as he worked her nipples, deriving pleasure from each gasp and moan he drew from her.

“Let’s start with the fricatives…” he murmured, mouth again against her collar, his lips leaving a tingling trail in their wake, making it harder for the clever student to pay attention to his words.

She had no intention to give in so easily, especially when he seemed so taken by the lecture, but it was difficult for her to focus. Shutting her eyes with a frown, she tried to pull from her memory the information he was referring to. The college girl had just taken a test on this, it was still fresh in her memory, no matter how hazy her mind currently was— it was still the mind of a genius.

Bulma had just managed to recall the appropriate phonemes when he descended on her tits, fastening hungry lips on a tumid nub, caressing it lightly with his tongue while his hand flicked the other. Her mind drew blank.

“FFFFFF…UCK!” she whined, head thrown back from the shock of pleasure. He chuckled hoarsely against her chest, her now wet nipple popping off his mouth. “Vvvvery good.”

Before she could process his praise, however, came the swift reward: the doting professor opened his mouth wide and seized one breast, sucking most of the soft flesh in vigorously. A breathy moan left Bulma’s red lips as the contact prompted a steady pulse between her thighs. As good as his teasing was, she was needing some relieve, his attention from before had already left her wet and servicing him had only made it worse.

Somewhat desperate and driven by instinct, she fisted his hair and pulled, trying to get him to look at her. Unfortunately, all she got was a muffled groan and a bite, to which she replied with a gasp. Fuck, she needed him elsewhere.

That was when it hit her.

“Vulva!” exclaimed she, digging her heels into his back to pull him against her, pressing her needy flesh against his hardening member, hoping to get her message properly across. Maybe even a bonus for keeping to the subject.  This time her breast slipped out of his mouth with his groan, hips thrusting back against her.

“Right…” he huffed out, eyes narrowed and a quirk to his lips. The professor straightened himself up and ran his hands down her sides to her thighs, pulling her closer. “Time to move on, then.”

A hum spilled out of her mouth when once again he massaged her calves and she leaned back on the desk instinctively, sweaty palms bracing her weight on the hardwood. Bulma couldn’t help rolling her hips when his strong hands pulled her legs wider apart, her skirt inching up to her waist. That’s what she was talking about!

Her satisfaction and expectation didn’t go unnoticed by the cunning professor — it rarely did. His face was tantalizingly close to hers, his dark eyes focused solely on her as his hands worked their way to her center.

“You’re such a teacher’s pet, so eager for my next lesson…” he hushed out, eyes falling to her lips as his minty breath ghosted over her face.

She then felt the roughened pads of his fingers brushing against her as he pulled her underwear to the side, anticipation drawing her eyes closed with a breathy sigh.

“Is that what you want, Miss Briefs?” he hushed against her lips, knuckles rubbing against her folds as he played with the lacy blue fabric, sending flutters through her core.

“Yes!”

“Yes, what?”

He pushed the offending piece of clothing fully to the side and cupped her womanhood, middle-finger circling her tight entrance. She tried hard to find her voice.

“Yes, Mr. Ouji…”

“There you go…” he mouthed along her jaw, the vibration of his baritone working wonders on her tingling fresh.  Then he started rubbing three fingers against her, spreading her natural lubricant thoroughly, and the arms that were keeping her torso upright trembled precariously.

Weak moans slipped past her lips, before they were once again covered by the professor’s voracious mouth as he steadily increased pressure. Her collar bone was next and finally, her breasts. As he lavished them with his tongue, now rubbing furiously at her center, waves of pleasure washing over her midriff increased in length and she moaned continuously at the feel.

Hazily, Bulma wondered if the callouses on his fingers were from too much writing or something else, before deciding to thank the gods for their existence anyway, as the rough surface only heightened the feel.

“Let’s. Go over. Laterals.” He murmured against her chest, punctuating the statement with licks to her nipples and a light graze of teeth that made her yelp.

“Hmmm…”

“Tell me…” he started, halting his movements, and lifting his gaze to her flushed face, eyes narrowed inquisitively. The attentive student whined lightly at the loss, but focused doe-eyes on him nonetheless. She wouldn’t dare ignore one of his lessons. “Their manner of articulation.”

With the arch of one of his black brows, challenging gaze trained on her, he slipped a finger inside. Her eyes rolled into her head as she threw it back with a gasp. Fuck, that wasn’t fair.

“How…” the brilliant student whined, facing him accusingly before being interrupted by the pump of his dexterous finger. “How am I… supposed to answer li-like t-that?”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk…” another finger joined the first and Bulma’s arms gave out. She was now lowered onto her elbows on the desk. “I’m disappointed in you, Miss Briefs.”

Raising her gaze from his ministrations to his attempt at hiding a smirk, she gritted her teeth in an attempt to steer her thoughts in the right direction. The jerk was trying his damnedest to scramble her brains, but the heiress wouldn’t allow him the satisfaction, not without a proper fight. Her perfectly lined eyebrows hunched closer as she thought.

“I know that!” she griped, her pitch breathy-high. “It’s-”

A third finger was added to the mix and the connection between her mouth and brain shortcut, nothing but keen wails spilling from her lips.

“Clearly you don’t.”

Bulma swallowed her protest once she felt his lips on her navel. Was he…?

“Maybe…” sharp teeth punctured her left hipbone; she squealed. “You need a demonstration.”

Vegeta straightened, hooking fingers under the waistband of her panties and pulling them down her legs in one quick motion, quickly discarding them to then spread her thighs on the desk once again and kneel before them.

Mouth agape, chest heaving, and one blue tendril glued to her forehead with sweat, the student watched over the expanse of her torso as the strict professor pulled her lips apart slowly with dexterous fingers and brought his mouth to her, dark gaze never leaving hers. The moment the clammy tip of his tongue made contact with her core she arched heavily, her whole body sparking to life as if struck by lightning. It was like an out of body experience, she couldn’t even recognize the drawn-out moan that crossed her lips as hers.

She felt him sweeping his palate up her slit to then curl the tip at her clit, rubbing it deliciously before restarting the process. It started out painstakingly slow, but he eventually picked up enough momentum to be chin-deep in her, the furious strokes of his tongue inside her having her writhing atop his desk, the hardwood slick with her sweat.

At some point her hand had once again found purchase in his unruly mane, gripping the coarse locks tight between her fingers, pulling him closer, the other one hanging off the desk above her head, which darted frantically from side-to-side. No coherent thought crossed her mind, nothing but hedonistic urges and broken commands of Faster, More!

Not that the professor needed any of those to know what to do in his unrelenting pursuit of her climax. She felt as if his tongue would be forever imprinted on her walls, his aristocratic nose brushing roughly against her pleasure nub every time he dug deeper before curling back out. She wouldn’t be lasting much longer now. The pressure was building.

She choked on her moans.

“Ve-vegeta!”

Pulling out to curl his tongue against her clit, he thrusted three fingers inside, and that was it.

Light exploded behind her eyelids in a myriad of colors too bright for her to follow, her whole body spasming as her walls clenched desperately around his still-pumping fingers. She felt herself soaring weightless as she rode the crest of her pleasure, thighs smothering her teacher, back arched and face contorted in the purest expression of elation. A soothing warmth took hold of her chest.

While his gorgeous student was still riding the orgasmic high, pleasantly disoriented, the cunning professor lost no time in getting back to his feet, bringing those slender thighs of hers with him and securing her feet over his shoulders before burying himself inside her in one harsh thrust to the sound of a sharp gasp, her juices easing his way in.

“Fuck.” He gasped.

No matter how good it felt to fuck her mouth, no feeling would ever compare to being buried to the hilt in her, tight walls squeezing his cock almost painfully. Through hooded eyes he watched as her mouth contorted into that ‘o’ that he loved, a discharge of extra adrenaline rushing straight to his dick upon the sight, and he started pulling out of her, reveling in every inch of mind-blowing friction as he did. Gripping her ankles to pull her lower back up and off the desk, repositioning at her entrance, he rammed into her again, the new angle enabling him to hit that sweet spot inside of her that had her keening, palms splayed on the desktop, eyes wild with pleasure, walls clenching blissfully around him.

This-this must be what heaven felt like.

Having found the perfect angle, Vegeta picked up his pace, soon slamming into her without mercy, his balls slapping against her butt as he sank into her again and again, claiming every part, every inch of her to him. The end of the semester meant nothing, she’d always be his. Feral eyes sweeping over pleasure-taken features, the professor brought his mouth to her right ankle, the left one gripped tightly in his hand as he leaned over her, bending her further while pulling her left foot to the side, near her head. He wanted to completely cover her lithe body with his, brand her with his heat.

“ah-ah-ah-ah-ve-vegeta!”

He reached for one tit with his free hand, squeezing it tight.

“What did you call me?!” he growled to her panting face.

“Pro-professor!” she stuttered in a moan.

“Professor what?!” he demanded, snarl in place as he beat himself fiercely inside of her, the desk rocking with his thrusts. “Say it!”

“Professor Ouji!” she wailed in a broken voice. “I’m-I’m cu-mminnnnng!”

He could feel her walls clinging to him, sucking him back in desperately every time he pulled out, he could sense his own dam so close to overflowing, all that pent-up frustration from his day, all the aggression and sexual tension accumulated between them in class today; it was close. They were close. Forcing her legs further against her torso, hitting even deeper than before, Vegeta brought his lips to her ear:

“Come for me, miss Briefs.”

It was as if she had only been waiting for his command, his permission to release wave after wave of euphoric pleasure, her whole body convulsing in spasms too grand to fathom, tipping him over the edge as well, howling her name with abandon, muscles tightening over her in a desperate urge to become one, to assimilate the other into themselves, her arms wound around his shoulders, begging him, not to ever let go.

They rode the high together, bodies moving in tandem as if they had been made for this sole purpose, eventually dialing down to languorous moves and then sagging against each other, completely spent.  

“So…” Bulma was the first to break their comfortable silence, dragging one finger up his spine and nuzzling his shoulder. “Do I pass?”

Letting go off her legs and settling comfortable on top of her on the desk, foreheads and noses touching, gaze fixed on her bruised-red lips, the demanding professor smirked, one hand reaching up to brush back wild aqua locks.

“You aced it.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If you’d like to check out the first part you can either click on the ao3 link at the top or here, to go to my scribbles page and check out my attempt at fanart as well!