.::ELEVEN::.
Vegeta closed the door of his sleeping quarters behind him with a click, the sound barely audible against the thudding of his heart. He looked down; the reason for his sudden retreat from the kitchen painfully evident. His erection was an unwelcome reminder of just how close he had come to losing control. He leaned back against the door, his breath ragged, his pulse racing.
He sighed; that was too close. Far too close. Vegeta made the decision then and there: no more alcohol. Especially not when the blue-haired woman was involved. With the help of the drink, the woman had slipped past his defenses, making him question his every instinct.
It had been a very long time since Vegeta had allowed anyone to touch him with such intimacy, a vulnerability he had long since buried beneath layers of pride. He inhaled deeply through his nose, his chest rising as he tried to steady himself.
The thought of the blue-haired woman's fingers in his hair and the soft press of her lips on his forehead haunted him. He exhaled slowly, forcing his mind to clear, but the thought of what could have happened kept creeping back in.
Hating to admit it, Vegeta had wanted more—so much more. The desire to pull her closer than she'd already been, to bend her over the counter and claim her as his own, had surged within him, almost overpowering his restraint down in the kitchen. He could still feel the heat of her body against his, the way her breath had quickened to match his own.
And the desire still lingered, simmering beneath his skin's surface. But, no matter how much Vegeta was drawn to her, she was a dangerous temptation he couldn't afford to entertain. He pushed away from the door, forcing himself to focus on anything other than the woman who had nearly unraveled him tonight.
Vegeta closed his eyes and exhaled a long sigh of relief, grateful that he had managed to pull himself away when he did. If he hadn't, he knew there was no telling how far he would have gone with the woman, and the thought of losing control like that because of her left a bitter taste in his mouth. The idea of finding himself in bed with her, giving in to the primal urges he had fought so hard to suppress, filled him with a deep sense of dread. He would never forgive himself if he crossed that line.
His gaze dropped to the stubbornly erect appendage between his legs, a physical reminder of how deeply she had gotten under his skin. He knew she had felt it when he'd grabbed her. That was a mistake on his part. A low growl of frustration rumbled in his throat. How had he allowed this to happen? How had he let her affect him so intensely?
With a sharp intake of breath, Vegeta walked over to his bed and lay down, his eyes never leaving the evidence of his arousal. His breaths came deep and heavy as he tried to calm his racing thoughts, but the images that filled his head only fanned the flames. He could see her so clearly within his mind, lying in his bed, her body tangled in the sheets as she clung to him, just like the scene from that ridiculous reality show. Deep down, the thoughts should have disgusted him, but Vegeta found they only fueled the fire within.
He hated this. Hated how she consumed his thoughts, especially when his body betrayed him for the second time within two days. It had been years since he had been with anyone. And now, with her being the only person around who stirred his emotions, she was becoming quite impossible to ignore.
Vegeta clenched his fists, his mind waging war between the desire he couldn't deny and the self-loathing he knew would come with it if he gave in. He despised how easily she could unravel him, how her mere presence ignited something within him that he had long since buried.
And yet, here he was, lying on his bed, unable to think of anything else but her. He hated himself for wanting her so severely and hated that he couldn't get her out of his mind.
As Vegeta stared up at the ceiling. The raw, unrelenting desire that coursed through could only make him think of one thing: sex. He imagined burying himself deep within the blue-haired woman. The thought of fucking her till she called his name consumed him. Vegeta wanted to feel her soft, warm cunt around his hardened cock.
With a growl of frustration and longing, he slipped his cock out of his shorts, then gripped himself. He squeezed his eyes shut as he let his mind conjure up the image of her beneath him. He could see her, her body spread out on the bed, her breath hitching in anticipation as he positioned himself at her entrance. The image was so vivid, almost painfully real, that it sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine. His nostrils flared as he imagined the moment he pushed himself inside her.
Vegeta's hand moved with increased urgency, his grip tightening on himself. The image of her in his mind fueled every stroke. He pictured himself sliding deeper and deeper into her. Vegeta's hand worked frantically as he imagined plowing into her over and over. And then the thought of spilling himself inside her consumed him completely. Pure pleasure crashed over him like a wave, and his body shuddered as he became lost in the fantasy of his mind.
Soon, Vegeta felt the familiar, mounting tension deep within as his hand moved steadily up and down his hardened length. The pressure built rapidly, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he approached the edge, each stroke bringing him closer to his inevitable climax.
Vegeta's body tensed, and his grip tightened instinctively, his hand working with a determined rhythm. Then, with a sudden, powerful surge, he felt himself teetering on the brink until finally tipping over. A low, guttural groan escaped his lips as his body jerked involuntarily, surrendering to the force of his orgasm.
Vegeta's cock pulsed in his hand, and he watched as thick streams of cum shot out, coating his hand and splattering across his lower stomach. The intensity of the release left him shuddering, his body succumbing to the waves of pleasure that rippled through him.
After a while, the last remnants of his orgasm subsided; Vegeta lay there, his chest heaving, staring blankly up at the ceiling. The room was quiet, save for the sound of his heavy breathing, and soon, the reality of what he had just done began to settle in.
Vegeta eventually forced himself to move off the bed with a sigh, searching for something to clean himself with. After the mess on his hand and stomach was gone, he sighed heavily and flopped back down on the bed. The act had provided only a temporary escape, but it had done little to quell his deeper turmoil. Exhaustion eventually overcame Vegeta, and he allowed himself to succumb to sleep, though his restless body still teemed with desire for the blue-haired woman.
xXx
Bulma lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling in disbelief, her mind racing after what had just happened. For all her brilliance, she couldn't wrap her head around the encounter she'd just had with the Saiyan. It was a moment so intimate, so unexpected, that if she hadn't experienced it herself, she wouldn't believe it had even happened.
She bit her lip, her heart still pounding as she replayed the scene. She had touched Vegeta, actually touched him. A man so powerful and feared had allowed her to get close enough to feel the warmth of his skin beneath her fingers. More than that, he had leaned into her touch. It left her breathless then, just as it did now, thirty minutes later.
Being so close to him had made her both excited and uneasy. Bulma swallowed. The desire she felt toward him was undeniable. She had wanted to explore every part of him then and there, right in the kitchen! She wanted her hands to wander over all his body, and the thought of being that close to him again sent shivers down her spine.
Unable to resist any longer, Bulma surrendered to the growing ache inside her. Her hand drifted down her body, then slid her fingers beneath the soft fabric of her panties. The moment she touched herself, a gasp escaped her lips. She was already soaked, far more aroused than she had realized. Vegeta had stirred something deep within her, apparently.
Her fingertip brushed against the sensitive bundle of nerves, and she bit her lip as her breath caught in her throat. A pulse of pleasure rippled through her core, spreading warmth across her skin. She circled her finger gently over her clit, her movements slow and deliberate, her mind fixated on the Saiyan who was only a few doors down.
After disappearing from the kitchen, he hadn't gone to the gravity chamber as she initially thought he would. Instead, he had fled into his room. Bulma couldn't help but wonder what the Saiyan was doing behind that closed door. She wondered whether his mind was consumed with thoughts of her as hers was of him. She hoped he was feeling the same need, the same intense pull that coursed through her body now.
Bulma's mind flashed back to the moment in the kitchen when he had grabbed her, pulling her against him. She had felt all of him then, and the size of him had left her breathless. She could only imagine what it looked like in person, and the thought sent a fresh wave of heat through her. The idea of what he might be doing at this very moment caused her finger to speed up against her clit, and the pleasure built with each stroke.
Bulma's body ached with the desire to get up from her bed, walk down the hall to his room, throw open the door, and press herself against Vegeta's hard body. But instead, she stayed where she was, her hand between her thighs, her finger circling her clit as waves of pleasure surged through her. Her hips bucked involuntarily, and her finger slipped lower, catching on the slickness of her arousal. She paused just long enough to coat her finger with her wetness before slipping it inside herself.
A sharp breath hissed through her teeth as she bit down on her lip to stifle the moan threatening to escape. She didn't want Vegeta to hear her, but the thought of his sharp senses picking up on her sounds made her pulse quicken with excitement. Her legs fell open wider as she pushed a finger deeper inside, the sensation growing more intense as her palm pressed against her clit with every thrust.
Her mind was filled with the Saiyan prince, his strength, the heat of his body. As Bulma slid a second finger inside, her breath grew heavier, her thoughts consumed by the fantasy of Vegeta bursting through her door. She imagined him towering over her, his hands on her skin, his hands touching every inch of her naked body. She could almost feel the weight of him on her, his mouth on hers, his lips trailing down her neck, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Bulma's fingers moved faster, in and out, her palm grazing her clit as she imagined it was his hand doing this to her.
She craved him, his touch, his dominance. She wanted the feel of his body against hers. She wanted him to take control, to ravish her without hesitation, to explore her with the same hunger that burned within her now.
Bulma's body ached with need, her mind consumed by thoughts of Vegeta, his strong, muscular frame pressing against her, entering her over and over until they were both lost in a sea of pleasure. She craved the sensation of him covering her completely, his powerful body driving them both to the edge and beyond. The intensity of the fantasy made her breath quicken, and she couldn't hold back a soft moan that escaped her lips. She wanted him, here and now, more than anything.
Her fingers slipped out from between her thighs, still slick with her desire, as she rolled over and reached into her nightstand drawer. She pulled out her 'battery-operated boyfriend' neatly tucked inside a smooth silk bag. With practiced ease, she slipped it out. Lying back on the bed, Bulma clicked it on, the soft hum filling the quiet room.
The blunt end of the vibrator found her swollen clit, and the instant it made contact, her hips jerked off the bed, a sharp gasp escaping her lips. The sensation was electric, sending a surge of pleasure through her already sensitive body. Her body tightened in response, and she pressed the vibrator harder against herself, each pulse making her shudder.
She closed her eyes, her mind spiraling into vivid fantasies of Vegeta. She imagined his hands on her, his fingers tracing every inch of her bare skin, the weight of his body pinning her down as he explored her with rough, demanding touches.
She wanted it to be him causing this intense pleasure, his strength and power overwhelming her. But tonight, she had only her vibrator and the relentless fantasies that ran throughout her mind.
As Bulma moved the toy in slow, deliberate circles over her clit, the tension inside her grew. Each flick of her vibrator sent waves of heat coursing through her, and her breath grew ragged.
In Bulma's mind, it wasn't the toy but Vegeta. He was the one pushing her to the brink, his body pumping inside hers, bringing them both to the edge of release as she bucked and withered beneath him. Bulma surrendered entirely to the fantasy, her body tightening as she chased the release she so desperately needed.
A soft moan escaped Bulma's lips as her body trembled, edging closer to release. She could feel the tension building, coiling tighter inside her with each pulse of the vibrator. She adjusted the setting with a flick of her finger, and the toy hummed with a more intense vibration. The sudden increase sent a jolt of pleasure through her, making her hips lift off the bed as her body quivered.
Bulma's breath grew ragged, shallow gasps filling the air as her body responded uncontrollably. The pleasure was overwhelming, coursing through every inch of her, her muscles tightening as she drew closer and closer. Her back arched off the mattress; her legs trembled as she gripped the sheets, desperately holding on as the orgasm neared.
And then, it hit her.
A wave of ecstasy crashed over her, and her body bucked wildly as she climaxed, the intensity of it making her breath hitch in her throat. She moaned again, louder this time, as her body convulsed with the sheer force of the release. The vibrator stayed pressed firmly against her clit, sending aftershocks that rippled through her until the peak of her pleasure finally began to subside.
Slowly, Bulma pulled the vibrator away, and her fingers trembled as she turned it off. She lay there in the aftermath, basking in the blissful haze that enveloped her. Her chest heaved, and Bulma tried to steady her breathing. Every nerve in her body still tingled from the powerful orgasm, her limbs limp, and her skin flushed.
Yet, a more profound longing remained even as her mind cleared and her body relaxed. The vibrator had satisfied her body's need, but what she truly craved was Vegeta. She imagined him beside her, his body warm, their limbs tangled together in the soft glow of post-orgasmic bliss. Bulma longed for his presence. She wanted to not feel alone. The thoughts lingered as she lay in the stillness, her heart racing, wishing they weren't just a fantasy.
Bulma sighed deeply and rolled onto her side as she stared out at the window. Even after her body had settled, the tension dissipating in the wake of her release, her mind was still fixated on Vegeta. No matter how hard she tried to push the thoughts away, he remained there, a constant presence in her thoughts.
There was no denying it anymore: she wanted him. It wasn't some fleeting attraction or a random spark of desire but a raw, physical need. The way his body moved, the intensity of his eyes, and the sheer power he exuded it was impossible to ignore. And though Bulma knew full well that Vegeta was anything but boyfriend material, her physical feelings toward him were undeniable.
Her heart, pounding so fiercely only moments ago, finally began to calm. She exhaled softly, her muscles relaxing as she let the weight of her exhaustion take over. Still, even in the quiet room, thoughts of the Saiyan lingered as her body melted into the sheets. Her eyelids grew heavy, and despite the chaos of emotions swirling inside her, Bulma felt herself slip into the comforting haze of sleep.
xXx
The next afternoon, Dr. Brief reclined in his lounge chair, clad in brightly colored swim trunks, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his skin. He stretched out his legs, letting the soft, white sand shift between his toes as he gazed out at the ocean. Each wave crept up just far enough to touch the tips of his feet before retreating into the blue horizon. He took a long, satisfying sip from a coconut drink in his hand, and a sigh of contentment escaped him.
It had been almost two weeks of pure bliss, and Dr. Brief couldn't help but relish every single minute. The idea of staying the rest of the month was becoming increasingly tempting. The serene environment was a far cry from the busy, high-tech world back at Capsule Corp. Yet, as much as he enjoyed this time away, a part of him knew it couldn't last forever. His wife had been on the edge, worrying about Bulma, ever since they had left.
Bless her, he mused, glancing over at Panchy, pacing along the shoreline, her sunhat flapping in the breeze as she chatted away on the phone.
He dug his toes deeper into the wet sand. He knew Panchy was worried about their daughter. And, of course, Bulma was a grown woman who was more than capable of handling things on her own. However, a mother's instinct was hard to shake. And Panchy, sweet as she was, had always been the type to fret.
"Once a mother, always a mother," Dr. Brief chuckled softly to himself, tipping his head back to watch a seagull glide across the sky.
Moments later, Panchy returned to her chair beside him, her own coconut drink in hand. She plopped down with a dramatic sigh.
"Something's up!" she declared, her voice concerned. She placed her cell phone on the table between them. "I just knew we shouldn't have left when we did. Just knew it!"
Dr. Brief raised an eyebrow and turned to face her, his glasses catching the light.
"What's the matter, honey?" he asked, his voice calm, though he already suspected where this conversation was headed.
She took a quick sip of her drink, then shook her head slowly, worry creasing her brow as she glanced over at him.
"I think something's happened between Bulma and Yamcha," she said, her voice laced with concern.
Dr. Brief paused mid-sip, lowering his coconut. "What makes you say that?"
Panchy leaned in a little, her face serious. "Well, before we left, I saw her writing in her diary, looking all upset. You know how she gets when something's bothering her. Then, Hasumi called and told me that Ayuko had seen Yamcha out at a restaurant with another woman!"
Dr. Brief's eyebrows shot up. "She did? Are you sure it was Yamcha?"
He couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy welled up inside for his daughter's sake.
Panchy nodded emphatically. "Yes! It was him!"
"But, Ayuko is-" Dr. Brief started but was interrupted.
"I know Ayuko isn't always the most reliable when it comes to the gossip. But the way Bulma was acting the night we left..." Panchy's voice wavered as she bit on her lip. "I just didn't feel right leaving that night. Something was off, honey. I could sense it!"
Dr. Brief sighed, feeling the weight of his wife's concern. Panchy had wanted to shorten their vacation since they'd arrived. She couldn't relax, constantly worrying about their daughter, but it had been years since they'd had any time to themselves. Dr. Brief insisted they stay, thinking Bulma could handle whatever was happening. Still, it was clear that his wife wasn't about to let it go, especially now that one of his wife's friends had told her the news of Yamcha. Dr. Brief cursed Hasumi.
He placed a comforting hand on her knee, gently squeezing it. "But she's an adult, Panchy," he explained, trying to soothe her. "If something's wrong, she'll come to us when she's ready. Bulma's a strong woman."
Panchy huffed, frustration evident in her sigh. She took another sip of her drink, her stare drifting back to the waves rolling toward the shore.
"I know she's an adult," she muttered, watching the water lap their feet. "But that doesn't stop me from worrying. I'm her mother. I'll always worry."
Dr. Brief squeezed her knee again, nodding. "I know you will."
Panchy sighed. "But I guess you're right."
"I am," Dr. Brief told her.
After that, they remained quiet, sipping on their drinks and watching the tide go out.
"I should call Yamcha!" Panchy said abruptly, breaking the comfortable silence.
Dr. Brief reached over and touched her arm, stopping his wife. "How about we leave them both alone for now."
Panchy stopped in her movement and turned around to look at her husband. She took another sip of her drink, and he saw a million emotions cross her face. His wife sighed again and sat back in the lounge chair.
"I know you're right," she admitted.
"Bulma can handle whatever comes her way," Dr. Brief assured his wife.
Panchy nodded. "I know."
Dr. Brief looked out over the crystal clear water as it skimmed over their feet.
"If she wants to talk about what happened, she will in time," he said, finishing his drink.
"I know," Panchy said again, sulking in her chair.
The two sat silently, staring at the ocean as it rolled in and out before them.
"When's the last time you've talked to Bulma?" he asked his wife.
"Two days ago."
"Well, why not call her then?" Dr. Brief offered. "I know it'll make you feel better."
Panchy finally smiled at him. "It will," she said.
That was all it took, and she stood and headed back inside the rental house with her cell phone in tow. Dr. Brief hoped it would appease his wife for the time being. He was quite enjoying himself and didn't want to leave anytime soon.