Chapter 2

"Ohhh… Unhh… Oh, Vegeta… More, please… more…"

Under a silky pile of dark violet sheets, Bulma moaned deep into the night. She eased her hips back, urging the Saiyan mounting her to continue his thrusting. He readily complied, grabbing one of her exposed breasts and squeezing it in his palm as he did so. Bulma felt his shaft fill her further and released another guttural moan. She could tell he was nearing his climax; she clenched her walls around him to finish the deed.

Vegeta's seed squirted inside of her, mixing easily with her own juices. He grunted with pleasure as he relaxed his hold on her. For a moment or so, he held himself inside her core, shuddering with pleasure, and then slowly withdrew. Once separated, both man and woman collapsed against the sheets, breathing heavily, covered in sweat.

Bulma knew Vegeta was asleep hardly in minutes. The stoic warrior had an insatiable sexual appetite that drained them both. They had been at it for nearly four hours now. He would sleep for another six, and then he would be up at the break of dawn to train. As for herself, she did not know when she would fall asleep or for how long. She knew she should be tired, but she could never fall peacefully asleep after lovemaking with Vegeta.

Instead, she always ended up lying awake for a half hour or so, reflecting on the sex, processing all the smells and touches and sensations. Sometimes she enjoyed it. Vegeta was not as selfish as some of her friends presumed; he would take his time to foreplay her. It was just… well, sometimes it wasn't quite as exciting as she hoped it would be.

She couldn't explain why either. Vegeta, after all, was a perfect specimen of the male physique. Hard, chiseled abs, sinewy biceps, a strong, squared jaw—what wasn't there to love about Vegeta's body? Not to mention he changed from surly to daring as soon as he was aroused. Any woman would be proud to say she had bedded the Saiyan prince.

Bulma had just noticed over time that the sex was less and less fulfilling. The first time, it had been incredible. The danger of it was thrilling. Vegeta was the ultimate antihero; he had the potential to snap back into a villain's role at any moment. He was bad boy to the max, dark, mysterious, altogether captivating. When he wrapped his arms around her, Bulma felt so possessed with pleasure, she could hardly speak. She liked that tingling sense of weakness. She liked having someone dictate the joys of her body.

She had to wonder though… it had been the exact same thing with Yamcha. She had become infatuated with him because he was a rebel. He was the wild desert boy, with a mane of long, black, untamed hair, a motorcycle that cut through dust like a knife in a stick of butter, and a devilish grin that threatened to make her heart pound right out of her chest. Her first time had been with him, and the sex was great. Lots of deep French kisses and heavy petting. She remembered sucking him off quickly and then being penetrated for a short time. It was warm, and she liked that.

But neither Vegeta nor Yamcha had managed to retain her interest for very long. Sure, she stuck with them out of friendship and an interest in not being alone. Bulma didn't mind being partnered with them. They just never captivated her. When Bulma imagined romance, she figured falling so in love with someone she wouldn't be able to get them out of her head for weeks, months, maybe even years. She imagined it would be more than a one-night thrill, where each consecutive lay was less and less fulfilling. Love shouldn't be the spark of a match and a quickly burned thumb!

Part of her wondered if maybe she had created unrealistic expectations for herself. Her entire adolescence was dedicated to finding the perfect boyfriend. She had regularly made mental checklists of all the qualities that perfect boyfriend would have too. The problem though wasn't that her boyfriends were missing too many checks. When she reflected on her relationships with Vegeta and Yamcha, they had cleared them all! Committed, loving, honest (Vegeta was that to a fault), handsome… Even if her expectations were unrealistic, she was lucky enough to have snatched the boys that achieved them.

She wondered too if maybe humans just weren't wired for this monogamy stuff. Perhaps romance was just some silly social construction, and she had fooled herself into believing the lie. Screw flowers and chocolate! How could anyone consider themselves whole by devoting themselves to just one other person? Of course, every time she suggested that to herself, she cringed. Even if monogamy or romance or love were lies, they were beautiful, intriguing ones that she wasn't yet willing to sacrifice.

Besides, some people were quite happy with the same person for years and years. Her parents were one example she grudgingly acknowledged. Chichi and Son Goku had been together for over two decades. Since Cell, Krillin and 18 had maintained a fairly steady relationship. Monogamy didn't have to be long term either, she supposed—just so long as you are faithful to the person you are with presently. And who said touching couldn't be romantic anyway?

She softly reminisced of working in her lab late the other night. Just rewiring some fried circuits for a new GPS chip. (She was planning to secretly install it in Vegeta's flesh so she wouldn't have to worry about where he was at all the time.) When she had looked up at the clock, she was surprised to see it was already nearing midnight. Sometimes she became so consumed in her work that she lost track of the time.

Pulling on her lab coat and grabbing her purse, Bulma had gone to turn out the lights when she heard muffled sounds from the adjacent supply room. Wondering if perhaps one of her father's animals had slipped in by accident, Bulma peeked through the door ajar. Instead of a stray kitty, however, she had discovered two junior researchers engaged in some intense snogging, half prostrated on one of the work tables, humping each other madly through their lab coats. Bulma's eyes widened in shock, and she turned away blushing profusely. Since that day, she had continually chastised herself for glancing back for a longer look.

The researchers were two of her most prized underlings: Suika, a budding graduate student at the local university, and Ume, an apprentice technician. Both were in their mid-twenties, occasionally too giggly, and definitely two of the most skilled junior assistants she had ever known. She identified her younger self with them and was grateful for their presence in the lab. She had always noticed they got along rather well, but she never realized that there was something romantic between them!

Bulma sighed. She remembered the way Ume raised her knee over the back of Suika's thigh, threading her hands through Suika's dark, silky hair. Suika had her hands up Ume's blouse, clearly teasing the flesh underneath, and had been dueling her companion with her tongue. Their crotches had been pressed so close together, Bulma swore she could have felt the heat in her own. They were panting and moaning and sweating and gyrating and…

Bulma shook her head suddenly. She was doing it again! Ever since she saw those two kissing in the lab (which was totally insubordinate, she flustered), she kept replaying the incident in her mind. Each time, she felt that delightful warmth spread itself to the apex of her thighs and trigger her nectar. She wondered what it would be like to have one of those nubile young things teach her all the new sex crazes. She wondered if roleplaying was still popular.

Damn it! She thought. Again! She squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to think of Vegeta in a sexy thong. Ripped muscles, ripped muscles, ripped muscles, she muttered to her brain. As she waited for the hunk of man to visualize himself in her brain, Vegeta's thong turned out to be banana yellow. Paired with the Saiyan's scowling face, Bulma could hardly control her giggles. She felt Vegeta kick her to be quiet and settled down. The room was so dark; she continued to stare up at the ceiling. A bronze, bathing beauty with ripe cantaloupes and a sultry smile swayed into her mind; she realized she was back at square one.

Quietly and swiftly, so as not to disturb Vegeta, Bulma's hand ducked underneath the sheets. She knew this was the only way she could finally placate her shameless thoughts and get to sleep.

Chapter 3 to come…

~Fina Arvanthol