Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or any affiliates.
Ahem...Thanks to my dearest HannaBellLecter (and Akira Toriyama), I have another one shot in the books. This was inspired by a piece drawn by HannaBell herself and I was beyond thrilled to do it. She's been so amazing to collaborate with and not only has her artwork inspired me, so has her upbeat attitude and positive disposition. I hope it lives up to the inspiration she gave me as it did drive me out of my comfort zone a little bit. Here's to you HannaBellLecter! I hope it goes the distance!
Slick with sweat from another restless sleep, Bulma kicked the damp sheets from her bed with an irritated grouse and condemned them to nothing more than a plush pile on the floor. Lifting herself out of bed, she walked over to her vanity, studying the reflection closely. She matted down a few stray hairs and wiped the sleep out of her eyes while scrutinizing a barely noticeable crow's foot that was starting to form. "Never a dull moment around here.." she said unfazed while viciously attacking her soft skin with moisturizer.
She walked over to her nightstand and picked up her phone moments before an undistinguishable sound guided her towards her French doors.
Her delicate feet carried her towards her balcony and she welcomed the cool breeze against her perspiring skin with the pull of one handle. She tried looking around before gifting the immersion of darkness with too many steps, but was ultimately limited by what someone would call her inferior human senses. Feeling brave, or just unconcerned, she reconciled summer was meant to be enjoyed at night anyway and acquainted herself with the cooling effect of the chilled night air. Still sober to her solidarity, she gripped her phone tightly and headed towards the stone parabola she historically befriended when she sought safety...or consolation.
With her back against, the handrail, any concerns of looming threats or boogeymen went the wayside as she started scrolling through the memory bank that moonlighted as a phone. There were a couple of saved messages that managed to steal a few laughs and some old phone numbers that were quickly erased. She resisted delving further initially and began strumming her fingers against the banister after dropping her phone to her side. She brought one hand up to her mouth and nervously chewed at her thumb nail, weighing the pros and cons of sating her psychological sweet tooth.
But what were phones for if not sensationalized trips down memory lane?
There were mostly just candid shots of the compound. Some from aerial views, others from inside her room. There were a few of her mother feeding her 'pets' and a picture of her dad lolling his head after dozing off with the comic strip still in hand. She closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of freshly formed dew with a small smile before her thumb slid to the next series of pictures. The pictures that outfitted her fragile disposition with a raised white flag as she descended.
It was almost pleasant, albeit strange, maybe?
Pleasantly strange remembering things that she forgot she forgot about. Who all came solo and who brought a date. Conversations that she couldn't quite place how they started. The rhythm of the music, the decorations, and the way the food smelled. Even remembering for, for future reference, which drink concoctions had people on the floor and which were better in shooter form, thanks to a few grin-inducing pictures. But with each swipe, the descent gradually became steeper and steeper. The genuine tug at the corner of her lips started slinking downward at an even keel.
Did she really have that many platonic friends? Every picture she found herself in looked more of that of a person ad for 'single, attractive female who is just one of the guys.' And every picture she didn't find herself in was that of couples who seemed to thoroughly enjoy being in each other's company. Even pictures of him and whichever lady of the night he could pay enough to- Bulma shook the thought out of her head while it was still premature, acknowledging that it was a mutual decision to part ways and she harbored not ill feelings towards him.
But even Yamcha was enjoying himself and it was slightly peeving. She did enjoy some of it she conceded, but nothing that could be captured in a digital rendering.
For some reason that left a bad taste in her mouth...
So she let her deft fingers push forward, attempting to find the most worthy moment to breath some life into. Something that should be proud of itself for capturing a moment that can never be duplicated, only iterated, but shamed because all it captured was less than one second of an entire lifetime. Something that proved she wasn't just single-use.
And she knew the exact picture.
The one that wouldn't hold up in physical form due to the relentless prodding and staring she subjected it to. The one that forced her to be copacetic with the literal definition of insanity. The one she could give a name to.
She glossed over the muted photo that probably knew her blood type, but was met with unexpected results. This Bulma, with the sam disheveled hair and lackadaisically reassembled outfit she had previously seen, told a different story. Her rendered counterpart didn't look as crestfallen or flummoxed as she remembers. And she 'remembered' often. This woman looked..healthy with afterglow.
A meager smile graced her lips for the first time in what could have quite possibly been weeks. She started to question her reasoning for the dejected attitude she had been promoting lately, but her concerns were corroborated when she saw the date on the picture. 'Ah, there it is. Three months and...nothing..'
The speckled remnants of the timid smile that remained were lost all together when she looked at the possessor of the frigid shoulder beside her. It wasn't as if she did anything wrong per se, so she tried to stanch the semblance of guilt that was approaching dangerous territory as she studied his expression and the way the scar on his ace made him look even less approachable. They might not have been together for sometime, but it still pained her to hurt him. Even more so because she could empathize with his plight.
He was responsible for his death after all. But the breakup had been mutual, regardless of what the rumored circumstances insinuated.
There was a very noticeable shift in the atmosphere shortly after the gravity room accident. Bulma had somehow become...more. More attentive to the niggling in the back of her mind now that their was another male on her property. More alert to the sirens that warn of the slippery slope that comes with dating the same person for a decade with no tangible commitment. More aware that the relationship they settled into wasn't nourishing or healthy, only a series of misread situations halted when one acquiesced to save face.
Were they even what the other needed in a partner?
It seemed so at first. He was so shy, so innocent, when it came to the opposite sex anyway. But it was what she needed. Bulma had no idea how to be a girlfriend, much less a good one. She didn't know when it was acceptable to be selfish and when it was just hurtful. She didn't know when her expectations were reasonable and when they were completely unjustified. Why would she? Her life was so different than any other adolescent she knew. Her inquisitive nature gave her all the tools she needed to be a child prodigy, but none to hone meaningful relationships with other flesh and blood. Especially romantic relationships.
She needed someone that was equally anorexic with the rigamarole of a relationship. And at the impressionable age of 16, she successfully picked the lowest hanging fruit.
Yamcha had never had any relationship to speak of, save for his furry companion. It just wan't part of his basic needs as the 'desert bandit' he proclaimed to be. He was independent, intrepid, and adventurous. There was just no need for anything outside of black and white thinking. At least not until he saw the finest shade of blue.
And while they couldn't be further apart on the lineage spectrum, his social ineptitude and her kludge of intelligence and determination was enough to bridge that gap; for a time.
The first set of breakup and makeup years, she had been the one to overshadow him. Be it fortune, notoriety, popularity..intelligence, it didn't matter. She was the money maker, she was the show stopper, people were waiting on her doorstep. Until one lucky fast pitch sent him into a whirlwind of late night autograph signings, endlessly paid bar tabs, and complimentary alibis.
Having so much time to herself was a breath of fresh air at first, but when a combination of missed dates and suggestive tabloid fodder began to materialize, Bulma was dropped vehemently from the upper hand. And it didn't go without notice. So she began to make excuses for him.
It would have looked bad for publicity after all if he skipped out on a team social. It did make sense just to stay over night instead of driving back tired. They could go to the movies anytime, but how often did he get to do a photoshoot in exchange for a well-known company's sponsorship?
But missing a milestone birthday was not something Bulma could be domesticated into. And it wasn't until she almost accepted his apology did the light go off.
She had become nothing more than the poignant little monkey serenaded into captivity by the elusive organ grinder. She did all the work, he reaped the benefits. It was that simple.
Letting go of someone she had been intimate with almost half her life was not something she was ever prepared to wake up and do, so she gave herself an ultimatum: one year. And if that wasn't enough, well her biological clock would reset Yamcha to the point of non-existence.
And by design, that one year coincided nicely with the destruction of the G.R...and her annual get together.
"Doesn't it bother you, seeing him with other females?" Vegeta asked without discernible inflection. She put down her wine glass on the table with an aggravated assault and gave him a lingering glare. "No, we're not together anymore and I have not interest in being with someone who doesn't want to be with me anyway, Vegeta." She punctuated his name as if it was a disease. "And don't think this has anything to do with you either, my gag reflex couldn't handle it." She rolled her eyes and turned away as soon as the insult left her tongue, but kept her guard up to catch any low flying daggers.
"Denial doesn't look good on you." He grinned lazily as he loudly sat down his glass himself.
The statement was suspended in the air as she tried to figure out which part he implied she was denying. The half-empty bottle on the counter deduced that it didn't really matter, but it did pique her interest as to the reasoning behind him drinking. She had never seen him drink alcohol before and a half of a bottle was nothing to scoff at. Even so, he still seemed only mildly buzzed..and funny enough, mildly tolerable. But it was a party after all, and she had her own personal reasons for imbibing, so she allowed him to have his.
"Why are you in here anyway?" She decided not to take the bate. "All the food's outside."
"I'm not hungry. Why are you in here?" he asked, almost passing it off for genuine interest.
She picked up the slowly diminishing bottle he had just filled his glass from and shook it in the air, identifying her reason for being inside. He looked at the bottle and then back at her. "Haven't you had enough? Drinking problems don't impress anyone." he crooned mockingly.
"Argh..!I don't have a drinking problem!" The instant pitch in her voice hurting his ears. "I have a Vegeta proble-.."
"Hmph..Never mind" she said as she lowered her voice and intentionally cut her statement short. "Just go away."
"Come on now, we both know you don't want that.." He didn't even look at her. Instead he downed another shot and let his tongue roll around in his mouth afterward.
God how she just wanted to hit him in that instant. Kick and scream at him for calling her out. Burn him for every insult she ever took and for pointing out the obvious breed of electricity between them. As if her night wasn't bad enough. She had so much pent up anger and frustration seeing everyone else around her enjoy themselves on her dime...It was maddening. But he was right. They had been teasing and flirting and damaging each other for the last year. In fact, bringing it out into the open was the first time she realized how comical the whole situation truly was. And throw in the fact that they would supposedly all be dead in less than two years?
The severity of it just seemed so.. over the top, that all she could do was laugh. It was even more self-serving because she knew Vegeta would mistake her laughter as a direct attack and she would be ready for it.
But she wasn't.
He countered with deliberate confusion and his 'attack' came in the form of rippled brawn and deft motility. He closed the gap between them with two swift steps, yet kept enough distance so his chest was just barely ghosting her back. Her breath hitched momentarily when she felt the warmth emanating from him. She closed her eyes and imagined all the wrongdoings she had done in her life.
Oh yes, she was definitely being punished for something. Having something so far out of reach yet so close, was beyond poetic justice. It was simply inhumane. Worse yet, she knew it had to be the alcohol. There was just no way in seven heels 'the prince of all Saiyans would lower his standards to be fluid-bonded to a weak, annoying, perverted, bitchy loudmouth'; or so she imagined him saying.
He let one finger glide up her exposed arm and rest with a grip on her shoulder. Merely his touch caused her face to flush and her heart rate to increase, but she quickly reminded herself his advances were nothing more than a mixture of inebriation and a biological imperative. But what about her? How long had it been since her biological needs were sated? At least long enough to push the slight embarrassment of a mid-fuck face and all the guilty moans that come with it to the side and bust out her riding crop.
One heated palm played on her hip as he grabbed a bushel of hair and brought it close to his nose.
"Your natural smell is much more agreeable. You shouldn't damage it with your chemical laden products."
"And how do you know what my 'natural smell' is?" she withdrew between hushed moans, as if their previous conversation was totally forgotten and any iota of anger she had faded.
With her neck exposed, he ran his teeth just up to her hairline before giving her a playful nip.
"Don't flatter yourself. My superior senses leave little to the imagination." he whispered into her neck. The hot breath teasing the slick imminence growing between her legs as she caught onto the double meaning. Her stomach caved slightly when he leaned closer to her, pushing her into the chair she had been supporting herself on. She had though about it many, many times, but the hard length against the back of her thigh proved just how little credit she have him due to his stature.
But something animalistic was growing inside her and the need to fuck was heavily outweighing the need for playful banter or putting him in his place. She turned herself around and allowed the palm of his hand to reside in the small of her back. She locked eyes with him, sending him a message; she knew it for what it was, scientifically speaking. A detached natural response to a stimulating environment and essentially..a one time thing.
He gave a curt nod and turned her back around, forcing her palms onto the table. She grunted in protest and tried to reacquaint herself with his face, but was pinned to the table, forward facing, by the front of his thighs against her backside.
He growled dangerously low in her ear. "No. I want you to watch them. Watch them while I fuck you and remember who's in control."
The last bit of sanity that was hanging on tried to warn her what a bad idea this was. How this would only complicate her feelings further and she would ultimately be left in the same position she was in now, except with her clothes on and possibly more drastic consequences. But as he raked both his hands up and down the hourglass that served as her figure, she let desire swallow her whole with total abandon.
She grinded her hips against his lap and let his freshly exposed, glistening member rub between her cheeks. She pursed her lips to suppress a whimper but the unexpected desire to moan into his mouth knocker her back to reality. Here she was, about to engage in the ultimate 'fuck you' to all of her friends, and she didn't even know what his mouth tasted like. She attempted to crane her neck, hoping to steal a kiss, but was halted when the thin fabric covering her unwelcome celibacy was ripped away.
With a quick hike of her dress, the gates of passion were ripped from their hinges an she sank into a pool of lust so deep, she could barely keep her head above water.
In one swift motion, he pushed himself inside of her completely, gripping her hips and them towards him. The lack of resistance didn't go unnoticed as he let out a small chuckle in her ear before pulling out again and attempting to find an accommodating tempo. Her hands stayed planted on the table to give more leverage as she arched her back, aligning him to her sweet spot.
"Mmm..Yes..Yes..Ah..!"
"Ahhhh..Ah..Don't..Don't stop.."
The sound of music could be heard in the background, somewhat muffling the drivel she was releasing in panting breaths. But with each thrust, she became more vocal. Each time the tip of his slick member pulled out too far, he played with her by tapping it against the base of her clit before sheathing it recklessly into her.
"Don't tease !YES!"
"Ahhh..R..Right there. Harder..Mff.."
The in and out of their swollen parts was taking a toll on Bulma's voice, but she dared to let his name to be the last thing that ever came out of her mouth. It almost rolled off her tongue until she slapped her hand over her mouth forcefully, not wanting to alert anyone else to their ministrations. But just as soon as she tasted the salt from her fingers, a larger hand ripped it away and secured it to the table, under his.
"No. Let them hear you.."
He gripped the back of her neck, as he continued to thrust in and out of her with a squelching thrum, and forced her to look out the glass door. Her bleary eyes could barely make out silhouettes of people she knew walking by. Some sick, depraved side of her almost did want someone to catch her. Let them see just how vengeful she could be. But her thoughts faltered as heavy pants became muffled cries. Another part of her wanted the wry fingers gripping her neck to strangle the life out of her. She knew how terrible it was that she went there first, but she just couldn't fathom that there was anything else to look forward to after this.
The sex was just that good.
She lifted herself up onto her toes to adjust the angle as she felt herself getting close to coming. She could feel the muscles spasming insider her as her vision turned upside down and even more mindless prattle started leaking from her mouth. She bit down on her arm to stifle the flurry of emotions that overtook her as her walls came crashing down. She reached behind her and gripped him just under his shoulder blade, tearing the skin.
Without any regard for anyone but herself at that moment, she didn't even realize she was the only one who came.
He let her descend from her cloud briefly before pulling out and spinning her around. He lifted her shaking legs and sat her up on the table, face to face. Still panting heavily, she reached out a hand and touched his surprisingly flushed but content looking face and noticed for the first time that he was completely naked while she was till wearing her dress.
She lifted herself off the table slightly and tugged the dress over her head. She turned her neck and looked behind her at the shadows walking by, but this time, she took control.
"Let them see.." she let drip out of her mouth like syrup.
With nothing to lose, she leaned forward and closed the gap between their lips, realizing what a fool she was thinking he was only good for one thing..
But reading too much into the kiss that would be seared into her memory permanently wasn't something she needed to do right now. He held up his end of the deal, so would she. She hopped off the table and placed he hands on his chest, grazing her fingers down his torso. She felt him jerk suddenly when she went too low and laughed a little on the inside realizing he was ticklish. She descended to her knees in front of him but lost all possession when he took control again.
The taste of herself being forced into her mouth by his weeping head was beyond enthralling. She knew she wasn't delicate, but relinquishing control to someone who was so unabashedly evil was a new plane of intoxication. She could feel the small welt forming in the back of her throat as he forced himself harder with each thrust, and her stomach fluttered a bit knowing the pitted skin would prove this wan't an ironic dream.
Irritatingly to her,he must've had some experience though. He seemed to know just how many times he could go to the hilt before it would irritate her gag reflex. But she tried to not think about it. Instead, she focused on reading him and his body language. She tried to not make eye contact, not knowing how he would respond, but the expression on his face wasn't something that could be left alone. He was still a little flushed from earlier, but his brow was somehow less furrowed. Or maybe it was just furrowed with contentment instead of irritation. Either way, when their eyes did meet, he didn't pull away.
She was surprised when he began slowing his thrusts dow, allowing her to take over. Especially because once she started hooking her tongue with each motion, sensual growls began emanating deep from his chest. But she could feel his skin getting tighter and him getting harder. She didn't expect a courtesy tap so she did what she knew no man would deny.
"Do you want to come on my face?"
She could see the contemplation deep in his eyes, so she made another offer.
"Don't worry, I'll do all the work. You just enjoy it."
With that, she grabbed his throbbing cock and began stroking it, first with one hand, then with two. She began moving up and down his shaft in alternating patterns with each had, enjoying the moans she was eliciting. She licked the tip of it, stringing a little bit of precum between her lips and his member. But instead of licking it away, she opened her mouth and began pumping harder. His demeanor changed visibly at this and she saw his mouth open slightly before he grabbed the chair behind him and let out an exasperated roar.
Copious amounts of salty, white fluid ran down her cheeks and her chin. It dripped across her breasts, slid down her belly and started to pool in her lap. She didn't wipe it away immediately. Instead, they both honored a moment of silence before he uncharacteristically got her a towel. She started wiping it off her face first and then wrapped it around herself before getting up to go to the shower. She debated asking him to join her, but when she turned around to where she thought he was standing, all the color drained out of her face.
It had to of been written in the stars that he would be the one to catch her. But 'catch' wasn't the right word. She wasn't guilty of anything. He had brought a date anyway so what did it matter? The only wrongdoing she committed was the mismatch lanterns and tablecloths. But the confusion and hurt that nestled into his features painted a different picture..
Still tacky with shame, she began dressing, irritated that he was still standing nearby, but frustrated that Vegeta was nowhere to be found. When she stepped outside, Yamcha broke the silence first.
"We are going to take a group picture so I came to find you..
...Lucky me." He snapped with sarcasm and obvious disdain as he threw his hands up in defeat.
Setting her phone on the rail, she eased up on the balcony carefully, letting her legs dangle against the ambient balusters. She let out a small, discouraging chuckle as the gravity of the situation registered.
She was a jerk. And she was alone.
But at least there was no more need for unrealistic daydreaming or pretending everything is fine just to be praying on the inside things are going to be different. It was her and it was going to be just her.
"Your gamut of emotions is disturbing my sleep."
Bulma cursed the moon's absence as she lost her balance and toppled forward onto her balcony. 'Fuck Vegeta! How long were you there for? And what's the big idea, you jerk? I could have fallen backwards and it's not like your ass would have saved me! Geez.." She picked herself up and rubbed her leg where she landed on it. "This better not leave a mark either!" she snarled.
"I told you, you're keeping me from my sleep. And by the looks of it, you could use your beauty sleep as well.." a dirty grin appeared on his face. She rolled her eyes. "How a I keeping you from your sleep, Prima Donna?"
"I can feel all the different energies you're putting off. Your ki, unsubstantial as it is, is bouncing off all the walls in this wing and the fluctuations are keeping me awake."
His expressionless face didn't tell any other stories, so she took it to mean the gospel.
"Whatever. Anyway, I'm going back to bed now, so get lost." She was content with the way she handled herself. Not faltering to a bronzed, shirtless physique or giving herself any hope that this visit was more than just a business trip. It really was just her, and that was enough. She smiled to herself as she turned around and headed for her doors, quite proud for standing her ground.
"You need to shower too. I can smell you from my room. It's quite disgusting." Oh how the sardonic tone he used just burned her up inside. But she refused to stoop.
"And what were you thinking about while you were looking at that picture? I can smell your wetness from over here.." That was the worm that hooked her; the change in her ki was almost palpable.
"How do you know what I was looking at?! How long were you there for? And Why? You must have been there long enough to see what I was looking at. What difference does it make to you anyway? Ugh..and why are you smelling me?! That's so gross. Fuck..just...just go away!"
It was truly amazing how someone so devoted to sentience embers that dared the strongest alloys to churn in their wake.
She plodded hastily towards her room only to be denied access by a very haughty looking Saiyan. She tiled her head up just a little, prepared to put him in his place, but when his eyes bored into her, all the previous memories of that night came flooding back and washed her out to sea. Her muscles contracted under anticipation and effectively pinned her under his scrutiny.
Why did he have to be so god damn attractive? And it wasn't just his looks. His intensity, his commanding presence, his overconfidence. Everything. He was the culmination of unattainability. And she hated being told 'No'.
She closed her eyes and imagined willing away but the piercing glare forced the voice out of her instead.
"Look, whatever your psychological endgame is, I'm not interested." She kept eye contact but maintained a poker face.
"No endgame."
Her heart skipped a beat as he grabbed her wrist and began rubbing his thumb over her pulse. "I'm just not very tired anymore.."
A thousand questions went through her mind as the statement hung in the air. The lines she was trying to read between were so blurry and she knew what had transpired before was nothing more than a fleeting moment of unreserved shame and happenstance. But as the pin-drop moments passed, the piercing glare in his eyes seemed to slowly morph into something more akin to boyish charm.
He gave her wrist a quick squeeze. "Wasn't there something you wanted from me?"
"I-Uh..Wanted? What did I wan-.."
His lips smashed into hers and once again she was pulled under the rapid harmony of dangerous waters. But this time she could enjoy his perfect lips for what they were. The cool side of the pillow. Something you unexpected you wake up in the middle of the night and look forward to. Comforting and familiar, but not anything to be taken advantage of.
She let him suck and nibble on her bottom lip as she mewled into his mouth. His hands exploring under her nightgown. She hesitated to wrap her arms around him, worried it would challenge his control, but ultimately decided to go with it. If it didn't work in her favor, so be it. There would be another tomorrow. As her forearms crossed behind his head, the brush up against his feathery mane sent an electric chill down her spine. She let out a soft moan as the phallic protrusion in his sweatpants rubbed the front of her thigh. She bit her lip and leaned herself back from him, dropping to her knees.
But then something unforeseen happened.
His hand gripped her forearm and pulled her back up against him. He brushed the hair away from her ear and whispered into it, almost affectionately. "We've already done that, I want to try something different.."
Had he not already made it clear otherwise, the warm breath against her skin would've had her on her knees in an instant. She swallowed hard as he turned her around and pushed away the straps of her gown. With a tiny billow of air, the gown dropped and all that remained were heated undergarments. Remembering the fate of their predecessor, she quickly discarded them herself but kept her back to him. He ran his hands up and down her thighs, feeding into her sexual frustration. She lolled her head as all the thoughts that plagued her now weightless mind evacuated.
One of his hands reached for hers and he guided it to the turgid resolve between her legs, ushering in a rhythmic patter of rehearsed perversion.
She felt no shame in touching herself. It was almost...liberating. She might have been using Vegeta as her muse, but a wave of independence took over knowing the pleasure she was bringing to herself.
That is until she felt firm forearms graze her inner thighs. With a quick jolt, she suddenly went weightless and much more exposed than before. Feeling unbalanced, she leaned against his chest and tried to locate all her extremities, making sure none were casualties in performing such a contorting position. Her silken shoulder blades married into corded muscles stretched across a taut, tan canvas while her lower back rode the 'V' of his abdomen.
When both hands found security under her knees and pulled them up, revealing her most intimate affairs, she immediately stopped maneuvering her hand and became paralyzed. He let out a warm chuckle at the absence of her self-pleasure and pushed the hair away form her ear with his nose.
"You're going to want to keep doing that.. Lest this next part be uncomfortable for you.."
...
...
..
Every nerve in her body and every synapse in her brain fired with unbridled mania as his distended tip slid past her dripping maw and took residence at the puckered opening between her cheeks.
All she could do was let out an embellished moan as he pushed through the ring of tight muscles. Her heart pounded in her throat, silencing any conceivable thoughts she had as each hair stood on end, riddled with frenzied electricity.
She felt him stop just as his head made it through the first increment and she took that as a sign he was checking on her. There was along moment of internal conflict as she debated telling him the truth, that it was much more uncomfortable than she imagined, but instead gave him a sensual whimper, encouraging him to continue.
Truthfully, it felt almost wrong. Like she was doing a disservice to herself. It just seemed so unnatural. But something about committing herself to him in a way that involved trust was enough to push past the momentary discomfort. Maybe it was her way of letting him in..and vice versa.
As he continued forward, the slight burning sensation dissipated and slowly he was able to adopt a compliant cadence. Each thrust was a little harder and she could feel him hitting her G-spot, just on the opposite side of the delicate internal tissue.
" ..G..Go a little faster. I can feel it better when you go all the way in..
"Greedy aren't we? You'll take what I give you.."
She ignored what he said. " ..bite..bite my neck while you do that.. Don't pull so far..:
Barking commands was only making him harder and he debated briefly of letting go of her legs and seeing how durable she really was. The idea of solely her bouncing on his engorged cock only making him increase his pace. He pushed the thought aside and clamped down tightly onto the intersection of her neck and shoulder.
As if her scent wasn't potent enough, the taste of her on his tongue stretched him to his limit as he felt his imminence on the horizon. He could tell he was enjoying it more than she was but didn't want the diminishing supply of natural lubricant to force her into pain, so he began to slow down.
She didn't feel indebted or like she needed to return a favor, but he had put her needs first last time and she knew she most likely wouldn't get off, at least not for a while. She took the decrease in his pace as somewhat endearing and decided to let him have this one.
"It's ok..I want you to come.."
She could feel a warm sensation flooding her tight channel as he let go of her legs and buried a rollin growl into her neck. He continued pounding into her, slowing with each thrust, as small clumps of DNA began dripping down her cheeks. Back on her feet, she could feel his possessive hands around her waist as his slick forehead rested against her should blade and his strokes came to a halt. She lurched forward slightly to release him and without hesitation, turned around and drover her lips into his...
Comforting and familiar, but not anything to be taken advantage of.
She had forgotten how many clothes she must've purchased for him since his residency but was considering never shopping again with the amount of folding she was doing. She giggled to herself an scratched the though when she realized the magnitude of her claim and the affinity she had for frivolously spending money.
Not feeling like dealing with the backlash of being caught in his room, she dropped the two neat piles onto his bed, turning her nose up at the idea of putting them away herself. Examining her surroundings, she noticed how even his room was enigmatic. Nothing indicative of any solid interests or insight into...anything really. Just a few generic books, one pillow, one sheet, one solid wood nights-
"What the hell?"
Bulma pulled the already half open drawer of the nightstand all the way out after something incriminating caught her eye.
It was a book.
A book with a very suggestively posed alien on the cover and the words 'Space Kamasutra' in holographic sliver letters..
Notes:
Guys..I have been a jerk. I know it. I know I have. I was supposed to get a sooner update for TWEW, but i sort of got sidetracked..*nervously sweats. I really really wanted to get this art inspired one shot out for a few reasons though and I stand by them. Now, with that being said, I will be putting my nose to the grindstone for chapter4 of TWEW and try to get it out ASAP. But in the meantime, I hope you guys enjoyed this raunchy beast! Reviews (of any kind) are much appreciated.
Update: I realized I forgot to include the links for the pics..My bad. I'll try to fix that tomorrow. Otherwise, find the links on my AO3 account. Sorry HannaBellLecter. I'll try to fix it ASAP Haha