Bulma was running errands with no plans to go to Temptations that day. With her frequent visits she had deduced The Prince didn't perform on Thursdays, so what would even be the point in going. Instead, Bulma was on her way to the grocery store. She liked to shop at this place that boasted its healthy options. Even though she tended to favor a lot of junk food, it made her feel less guilty because everything there claimed to be organic.

She took a moment to admire the bouquets of fresh flowers for sale near the front door, before making her way to the breakfast food aisle to grab a box of her favorite sugary cereal. Bulma picked up a hand basket to carry her groceries in and checked the list she made on her phone.

When she rounded the corner to the breakfast food isle, Bulma nearly fainted when she spotted the object of her obsession thoroughly inspecting the ingredients listed on a box of oatmeal. She quickly turned to face the food lined shelves, as to not be so obvious when she stared at him through the corner of her eye.

The Prince was wearing navy track pants, a grey hoodie, and sneakers with a small duffle bag hanging off his shoulder and a grocery basket in the opposite hand. She could hardly believe how normal he looked.

Obviously, Bulma knew he didn't spend all his time at Temptations, but she had never really imagined him doing anything else. Why would she think a sex god with panty soaking dance moves would do real people stuff like buy his own groceries?

When he returned the oatmeal to the shelf, Bulma started hyperventilating, worried he would walk away and she would miss her chance to talk to him. She sighed in relief as he picked up a different box and started reading the ingredients on that one. She steeled herself before taking a somewhat confident step toward him, it was now or never.

Bulma tried to remain calm, but suddenly became self-conscious as she eyed the contents of his basket. It was filled with mostly vegetables, whereas the only thing in her basket was probably the least healthy product in this stupid health food store. The closer she got the more nervous she became. Would he judge her? She decided to speak before she could chicken out.

"You look good with your clothes on."

Her heart skipped a beat as he turned and their eyes met, but then it finally registered what she had actually just said to him. Her eyes widened in mortification and she opened her mouth to speak, to say something that wasn't so stupid, but nothing would come out. She didn't know how to take something like the back (not that she didn't mean it).

"Thanks, I guess," he replied with a chuckle. His casual response allowing Bulma to actually breathe again. "So, you're familiar with my work I presume?"

"Oh, more than familiar," Bulma nodded enthusiastically. He smirked, clearly amused by the response, before he tilted his head and his eyes filled with recognition.

"I remember you," he stated and it was as if a hurricane of butterflies danced in Bulma's stomach. He remembered her! He set down the oatmeal he had been inspecting before he continued, "Yeah, that private dance from other day, right?"

Bulma flushed with embarrassment as she recalled her behavior from the other night. She forced out a laugh before responding, "Yeah… I'm sorry I said I would pay you to have sex with me. I-I wasn't trying to insinuate you're a prostitute or anything!"

The Prince raised his eyebrows at her and she worried that was the wrong thing to say. "Not that there's anything wrong with making money off of your body!"

Again, he didn't respond, seemingly enjoying watching her squirm. She desperately wanted to change the subject.

"Um, so do you workout?" she asked, pointing to the athletic duffle he was carrying. As soon as the words left her lips, Bulma mentally face palmed. Of course The Prince works out, he's jacked!

In most aspects of her life, Bulma had been the picture of confidence, so how was it that she turned into complete putty whenever she was within a ten foot radius of this man?

"Mmhmm," The Prince hummed in the affirmative. He smiled, clearly fighting a laugh that wanted to escape his lips. "As fun as this conversation has been, I have to go call someone to fix my kitchen sink." He looked like he was about to walk away and Bulma began to panic, trying to think of anything to make him stay.

"I can fix it!" she blurted.

"You're a plumber?" he asked unconvinced.

"Well no," Bulma replied, "I'm actually an engineer." He raised his an eyebrow in surprise. "I mean, I'm pretty handy with tools and if it's something simple, I bet I could take care of it for you."

He seemed to consider her offer, so Bulma added "I'll do it for free!" hoping that would really sell her. She was giddy at the prospect of going to the Prince's actual home. Now that she acknowledged him as a real person, she found herself curious about all aspects of his life.

"Yeah, okay," he finally said. "Were you done with your shopping?"

Bulma looked down at her near empty basket, but decided to forgo the other dozen items on her grocery list. Ceasing the opportunity to go with The Prince, was worth coming back to the store another time. "Yup, all done!"

"Alright, let's go checkout then." He began walking towards the front of the store and Bulma followed close behind with a grin on her face.

"By the way, what's your real name?"

He turned over his shoulder to look at her and gave her one of his signature smirks. Bulma thought for sure she was going to melt. "Vegeta," he answered simply.

Vegeta unloaded his items onto the conveyor belt and the female cashier began to check him out, in more than one sense of the phrase. Bulma's palm twitched as the girl openly gawked at him, her green eyes grating over The Prince approvingly. He barely reacted as if the cashier's giggles and obvious flirting was so completely normal. 'Be cool,' Bulma reminded herself as she gripped her hand basket with excessive force.

But her ire soon faded into amusement as Vegeta proceeded to pay for his groceries with single dollar bills. A smile tugged at her lips, knowing exactly where he got them. She had never considered what happens to the money stuffed into a stripper's underwear, apparently it paid for overpriced organic vegetables.

When he pulled out a reusable grocery bag from his gym duffle, Bulma found herself growing more impressed by him. Hunky, healthy, and cares about the environment? Damn, just get him a kitten and she would be begging him to have sex with her all over again.

The cashier didn't ring up Bulma's cereal with near the level of enthusiasm she had for the The Prince, but she didn't care. She peeked at him out of the corner of her eye, waiting patiently at the end of the aisle.

As they walked the few block's to Vegeta's high rise apartment, Bulma found that the conversation flowed a little easier. Outside Temptations, in the light of day, he didn't seem to radiate the same intensity that had made her so nervous before.

After a quick elevator ride, the pair was stepping into Vegeta's apartment. Her eyes eagerly scanned his space, surprised by how nice everything was. The apartment itself was very modern, the furnishings minimalistic and the decor very stylish, but still masculine.

She nodded her head in approval, "this place is really nice, you must make a lot of money."

Another mental facepalm. Bulma chided herself for her intrusive observation. Her nerves returned as she went to stutter out an apology, she didn't want him to think she was rude or ask her to leave, but he just snickered.

"I guess you could say that. I mean just the other day, you spent $300 to hangout with me for 30 minutes." Bulma almost snorted, 'hangout' what an innocent way to put it.

He rummaged through a closet as she continued to absorb her surroundings, wondering if a particular door was his bedroom.

"Do a lot of women get private dances with you?" she blurted out. Where was her filter? Did she even really want to know the answer to that?

Vegeta stood up with the small tool box he had retrieved, before he smirked, "None more memorable than you." She blushed then laughed nervously, remembering her lewd behavior. Not her proudest moment.

"So it's the kitchen sink," he informed her, nodding his head in its general direction. Bulma had almost forgot that's why she came over.

He led her to the offending plumbing and opened the lower cabinetry for her to inspect the sink's pipes. Kneeling down, Bulma gave them a stern look. The gears in her brain turned as she tried to solve the puzzle before her.

"I don't really know about this kind of stuff, but here's the tools that I have." His voice brought her attention back to him. She suddenly became aware he was standing an arm's length away and she was eye level with his waist.

Trying to steer gaze away from his manhood, Bulma accepted the small toolbox he handed to her. Everything inside was pretty basic, but if the issue was within her capabilities then they should do.

She crawled under the sink and got to work, quickly identifying the problem. She tried not to be disappointed when the sound of his footsteps had suggested he walked away. What did she think would happen? He'd sit and talk to her while the upper half of her body was tucked under his sink. Just ten minutes and a few tugs of a wrench later, Bulma had fixed the simple issue plaguing his plumbing.

"You're actually pretty hot."

His comment startled her and Bulma hit her head as she backed out from under the sink. She heard him wrong. She was for sure hallucinating.

Rubbing her bruised head, she turned to find him sitting relaxed at the breakfast bar. An elbow rested on the counter and a hand supported his chin as he watched her with dark eyes. Her pulse quickened as she recognized those eyes as the ones he made at her the night of Chi Chi's birthday party before pulling her up on stage.

She stood, still not commenting on what he said because she had obviously imagined it, and washed her hands in the newly fixed sink.

"So, you should be all goo—" her voice got lost in her throat as she felt his heated presence behind her. She turned to find herself captured between him and the counter. His hands planted firmly on either side.

She was frozen, flabbergasted by the sight of him, The Prince, admiring her body.

"Do you still want me?" he husked, his dark gaze still trained on her lips.

This was a dream. Right? It had to be.

Her brain practically malfunctioned, unable to form real words, she eagerly nodded. To that he leaned in even closer, his hands fell from the counter and landed on her slim waist. The feel of his heated touch nearly making her swoon.

He whispered into her ear, his sultry voice velvety smooth, "Do you still want to fuck like fucking animals?" Bulma gulped nervously, a faint blush danced over her cheeks as he parroted her words from their private dance.

"Yes, please," she squeaked breathlessly. He seemed to like that answer, he pulled back just enough that their noses nearly touched. Instinctually her hands slid up his chest to wrap around his neck, their gaze full of unspoken desire.

He pressed his lips against hers with surprising tenderness. The nervous tension in her body softened as he moved his mouth rhythmically against hers. Her fingers slipped into the hair at the nape of his neck, and he nearly groaned at the feeling of her softly scratching his scalp, pulling him closer, she deepened their kiss. Vegeta's grip drifted down, capturing a handful of her ass and giving it a playful squeeze.

Their tongues mingled as his hands continued their exploration. Bulma moaned into his mouth, it was so gratifying finally being kissed, being touched by the man she had pined after so long. He pulled her closer, and she relished the feeling of their bodies pressed together.

He began stepping backwards, dragging her with him. They broke their kiss momentarily as he tore off his sweatshirt, and like magnets her hands reached to feel the smooth muscles of his torso. Her exploration cut short as he pulled off her shirt. An anxious excitement bubbled in her stomach as the evidence of his arousal strained against his pants.

They gravitated toward his bedroom in a blur of clashing tongues and groping hands, a trail of clothing left in their wake. They parted momentarily and Vegeta pulled down his tight briefs, freeing his proud erection. Bulma gawked as his manhood, she had imagined him big, and he did not disappoint.

Her obvious approval only served to increase his confidence. Trailing down her sides, his thumbs slipped into the waistband of her panties, while Bulma devoured the sight of his perfectly sculpted muscles wrapped in delicious caramel skin.

As she stood there, nearly naked in front of him and his outrageous body with moves that make women scream, a sharp feeling of inadequacy stabbed her through the chest. Why would he even want her? Her, a lonely engineer that regularly got drunk at his workplace and hadn't been with a man in ages. How could he not be disappointed? He was a literal Adonis practically making women climax by looking at them.

"I…" she paused, pushing a hand against his chest. Vegeta's gaze lifted from her perky breasts to find hesitation written all over her face.

His hands froze and eyes grew wide, "I'm.. er… sorry?"

"No I… I just need a second." Bulma looked down in embarrassment and clenched her fists at her sides willing herself to get over this stupid insecurity. She was seconds away from having hot, passionate sex with The Prince - this is what dreams were made of!

"I shouldn't have been so.." he trailed off, retracting his hands slowly. She met his gaze finding him tense with uncertainty. His sudden awkwardness was oddly comforting, like he was actually fallible and maybe he, too, had his insecurities. After a few deep breaths, she realized Vegeta was reaching for his discarded pants.

"Don't you dare put your pants back on!" His hands halted in mock surrender. "I said I just need a second, and now I'm good."

"...Um... okay..."

With determination, Bulma pulled down her panties, revealing herself to him in offering. He just watched, still seemly unsure how to proceed. After she shattered his self-assured certainty, Bulma knew she need to show him her enthusiastic consent. Knowing no better way, she dropped to her knees in front of him, taking his hardened member in her hand.

He watched her intently as she stroked him a few times before leading him to her waiting mouth. Vegeta's breath hitched as she slowly dragged her tongue along his length. Bulma looked up to meet his smoldering gaze. She licked her lips and his cock twitched in response.

After shooting him a mischievous grin, her moist lips teased his sensitive head with a few kisses before taking him fully into her wet mouth. A moan escaped her lips as she tasted him, her eager tongue lavishing his hardness. A hand wrapped around the base of his shaft working in tandem with her mouth, the other grasping his firm ass. As Bulma bobbed up and down on his length, his hand reached into her hair guiding her to the perfect pace.

She gagged as she took him deep into her throat, his grip in her hair tightened as he let out a satisfied moan, his eyes closed succumbing to the sensations she provided. Bulma could hear his breathing grow more ragged, and she had to resist the small smile that tugged at her lips. Affecting a man like The Prince in this way served to bolster her confidence. She felt him tense, his body going rigid as he neared his peak. Wanting to prolong their tryst and maybe torture him a little, Bulma pulled away to leave him on the edge. He groaned at the loss of her warmth, as she stood.

She pushed him down onto the bed and Vegeta smirked welcoming her silent command as she crawled on top to straddle him. His hands traced down the sides of her body, the soft touch caused her nipples to pebble in response. Bulma leaned forward a placed a soft kiss on his lips before she reached between their bodies, positioning him at her entrance. Vegeta growled, his hands gripped her thighs as she teased him with her wetness. She moaned and rubbed her clit with the tip of his cock, driving him wild with need.

They both sighed as she settled her hips down, taking every inch of his length inside her. Her hands found purchase on his firm chest as she adjusted to the pleasant stretch of his intrusion. Her head fell forward, a curtain of hair concealed her face. Bulma felt his grip leave her side, before his hand reached into her hair, brushing it away to look at her face.

His dark gaze, an unfamiliar combination of tenderness and burning hunger, spurred her on. She began grinding against him and his hips rocked up to meet hers. He was so deep, the sensation was nearly overwhelming. Her fingers clawed at his chest as she repeatedly lifted herself up before slamming back down. The sounds of moans mixed with labored breath echoed through the room.

A light sting resonated on her backside as he spanked her, encouraging her to quicken her pace. She began to ride him with desperate urgency, her breasts bouncing heavily to the grueling pace she set for herself. Each thrust increased the intense pressure building in her core. "Kami, you're so fucking sexy," he husked. She thought to reply, to say she felt the same about him, but when she opened her mouth a breathless moan escaped instead.

His hand had slipped between them and his mischievous fingers began playing with her swollen clit. Under his touch, Bulma could feel herself edging closer to her peak. Her nails dug deeper into his chest as he continued thrusting up into her with abandon. Their haggard breath intermingled as she leaned forward, his grip on her waist the only thing grounding her. The tension in her low belly continued to mount, coiling so tight it was almost painful.

She cried out when the pressure exploded into an earth shattering orgasm. As the waves of pleasure washed over her, she felt Vegeta spill himself inside her, her muscles convulsing around him. He let out a groan as his grip on her waist softened. She sighed collapsing onto him as she came down from her high.

They laid chest to chest silently for some moments, and Bulma revelled in the feeling of his warm, hard pecs against her soft breasts. The vigor of their love making left them covered a thin layer of sweat. With her head resting in the crook of his neck, she listened to his breath return to normal as his fingers traced lazy circles on her shoulder.

"So, what else did you say you wanted to do?"


A/N: You guys, strippers are people too.

Thank you so much for reading and commenting!

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