Vegeta’s Lesson
By: Tina Lang

Bulma cowered behind Krillin, afraid for her life. After watching that sexy Zarbon turn into a disgusting monster and get beaten down by Vegeta, she was more afraid of the short, bad-tempered Saiyan than ever.

So although she wasn’t surprised with Krillin’s decision to hand over the dragonball in exchange for their lives, she wasn’t pleased with it, either.

"Krillin!" she hissed. "How can you just hand over the last dragonball? Now he’s going to become immortal, and we won’t have a chance!"

"We don’t have a chance anyway, Bulma," Krillin shot back, for once refusing to cower in front of the intimidating woman. "If we don’t give him the ball, he’ll kill us and take it anyway! We might as well live to see what’s gonna happen next."

"Haven’t you thought that maybe, after he’s gained his immortality, he’s going to come back and kill us anyway!" she screeched, before realizing how loud she was and slapping her hands over her mouth, ducking behind Krillin as she peeked over his shoulder at the Saiyan Prince, who stood watching the two of them argue, laughing his head off at their antics, the dragonball tucked safely under his arm.

"Yeah, laugh it up!" Bulma shouted angrily at the Saiyan Prince, before realizing who she was talking to and diving behind Krillin once more.

Vegeta stopped laughing and stared at the short, bald man with narrowed eyes.

Krillin swallowed hard and began sweating profusely.

"Uh, nice, uh, weather we’re, uh, having today, uh, isn’t it, Vegeta?" he asked, nervously scratching the back of his head as he performed a cheap imitation of Goku’s sheepish grin.

Vegeta’s only reply was calm and low. "The dragonball won’t be enough to spare your lives."

From behind Krillin, Bulma wailed, "WAAH! I don’t wanna die!" and burst into tears. The stresses that she had suffered since coming to Namek had severely screwed with her sanity.

Krillin stiffened and crouched low into a fighting stance. "If it’s a fight you want, Vegeta," he said nervously, "then, uh … it’s a fight you’ll get!" He wouldn’t let Vegeta just kill them; he had to at least make an attempt to save himself and Bulma!

Vegeta smirked. "It’s not a fight that I want." His voice was husky, almost suggestive. Krillin didn’t quite know why, but he had a sudden urge to look down, and what he saw raised his blood pressure and took several years off of his life. There was a bulge in the spandex below Vegeta’s armor.

In the crotch area of the spandex!

Krillin gulped, his eyes flying back to the wicked look on Vegeta’s face. Oh, Kami … Vegeta wanted him! He must have something for bald men, Krillin thought. First Nappa, now him … but did he really have a choice? He could either submit to Vegeta’s will and live, or die—and take Bulma along with him—when he could have gone out fighting.

With a sigh, Krillin succumbed to the inevitable. "Ok, you win, Vegeta," he said reluctantly, even as a part of his mind told him that it might not be so bad. Vegeta wasn’t all that unattractive, after all, and he did have lovely hair and some nice, if rough, features. It might take some getting used to, but Krillin could easily see himself as Vegeta’s love slave. No, he thought as he began warming up to the idea, it might not be so bad at all!

"Good," Vegeta smirked. "Now hand her over."

Krillin blinked. "W-what?"

"I don’t like to repeat myself, baldy." Vegeta’s eyes had narrowed into an evil, shudder-inducing glare. "This is the last time I will tell you before blasting you to the next dimension. Hand. Over. The. Girl."

Bulma’s eyes widened at these words, and she latched onto Krillin’s legs as though she would never let go.

"Don’t turn me over to that monster, Krillin!" she pleaded, tears rushing to her eyes. "It’ll be a fate worse than death! You’re a man, so you wouldn’t understand! But you don’t know what he’s going to do to me, Krillin! I’ll probably end up either dead, or wishing I was!" she sobbed and buried her face into his leg. "Please, don’t make me go!"

But Krillin was seething with jealousy, angry that Vegeta would choose a loudmouth like her over a testosterone-laden stud like himself! It was a proven fact that baldness was caused by too much testosterone—and Krillin was as bald as they came. Although, seeing as how his baldness wasn’t natural—he shaved and waxed his shiny chrome dome himself—that really didn’t count for him, but still, it was the principle that mattered!

Krillin cruelly shook Bulma off his leg. "You have to go, Bulma," he said softly, trying to cover up the bitter jealousy in his voice and barely succeeding. "You have to take one for the team." He leaned over to whisper in her ear, "By now, Gohan’s probably got one of the dragonballs! So chances are, Vegeta won’t get them all!"

Bulma’s eyes lit up. Yeah, that was it! She’d be a distraction to Vegeta while Gohan and Krillin discovered his stash of dragonballs, and she’d be a hero for preventing him from making his wish! She could just see it now; herself, in the center of a parade going straight through West Capital City, waving to her adoring fans because she, Bulma Briefs, with her bodacious body and womanly wiles, had managed to capture the attention of the villainous rogue Vegeta and distract him long enough for her dear friends, Krillin and Gohan, to collect all the other dragonballs, and hide them safely out of the bad man’s grasp!

"I’ll do it!" she whispered back to Krillin, before bouncing up onto her own two feet. She took a nervous step towards Vegeta, who was staring at her with unbridled animal lust, then stopped. Damn, it was hard to act confident when he just kept staring her like that, as though she were a piece of meat.

A very tasty piece of meat!

She wasn’t even wearing her usual revealing outfit consisting of a tank top and short shorts, either. She was dressed in a hideous yellow vest over thigh-hugging black spandex that showed off every flaw, and somehow the Saiyan still found her attractive.

Bulma blushed as she stood there, shifting her weight hesitantly from one foot to the other, waiting for Vegeta to make the next move.

In a flash, she found herself flung over his shoulder as he flew away from Krillin and the earthlings’ former hiding spot, the dragonball nestled under his other arm.

"Hey, what’s the big idea!" Bulma screeched as she started pounding on his back. "That’s no way to treat a lady!"

She conveniently forgot to mention that she was no lady, in the strictest sense of the word.

Vegeta smirked. He could smell her fear under all that sexy bravado, and as always, the smell of fear turned him on like nothing else. All he could think about was finding some nice, secluded place where he could remove that bulky, hideous looking clothing from her smooth, supple body, then press his skin against hers, and thrust into her warm, wet—

Oh, shit, he thought with a growl. It’s Kakkarot’s brat! He could sense the boy’s ki coming straight towards them!

"Looks like our fun will have to be postponed," he murmured just loud enough for the blue-haired woman to hear.

Bulma wondered what he meant until she heard Gohan’s young, trembling voice.

"V-Vegeta!" The little boy was scared, yet putting on a brave face—just like his father and Piccolo had taught him. "Put her down!"

Vegeta laughed. "Why? Do you want a go at her, kid?"

"Hey!" Bulma screeched, pounding her fists ineffectively on her captor’s armored back. "Don’t corrupt the minds of little children! That’s just wrong!" She pounded his back again for emphasis.

Vegeta just laughed at her words as his hand shot through the air to give her a hard, stinging slap on her ass.

"OUCH!" Bulma exclaimed, one of her hands reaching back to tenderly rub away the soreness caused by his blow. "What did you do that for?"

"Shut up, woman, or you’ll get a lot more where that came from," Vegeta warned.

Bulma’s voice abruptly quieted.

Gohan growled. "Stop treating her that way! I said put her down!"

"What are you going to do about it, brat?" Vegeta asked with a smirk. "Are you going to fight me? Even with a dragonball in one arm and a woman in the other, I could still beat your ass into the ground without even breaking a sweat!" A feral grin spread across his face. "Want to try me?"

Gohan clutched the dragon radar in his hand and backed away a step, big, fat drops of sweat pouring down his brow as he warily eyed the elder Saiyan warrior.

Vegeta’s eyes flicked down to the object in Gohan’s hand. "Nice watch," he said mockingly.

The smell of fear permeated the air all around him. He was so hard he felt as though he could burst right there. He had to get the woman alone soon, so that he could relieve himself inside her beautiful body.

He didn’t want a fight, dammit!

He wanted a fuck!

So, without waiting for Gohan to attack, Vegeta gave the boy a swift kick in the gut. He would have punched him, but both his arms were full at the moment.

Gohan fell to the ground clutching his stomach as Vegeta laughed cruelly at the little boy’s pain. The Saiyan Prince then flew off to search for a nice, secluded place where he could take the woman and have his way with her.

Finding a narrow alcove in between two large cliffs that amounted to giant walls of rock, he quickly dumped Bulma unceremoniously onto the cold, hard ground and stared at her lustfully, before carefully setting the dragonball down on the ground a safe distance away from her.

"Y-you’re not going to rape me, are you?" Bulma asked, using her feet against the ground to slide herself away from him—and right into the cliff wall.

Great, Bulma, she chastised herself, now you’ve gotten yourself literally between a rock—she looked up at the giant cliff against her back before turning her gaze towards the bulge straining against the spandex at Vegeta’s crotch—and a hard place!

Vegeta snorted. "Don’t think that you can screech your way out of this, woman," he growled, advancing on her.

He was going to rape her! Bulma cowered against the rock wall at her back, trying to shrink into it as much as she could, even while repeating to herself the mantra, be brave, be brave, be brave!

By this point, however, bravery was far beyond her meager capabilities.

As he continued to advance on her, her thoughts began to race, searching for some way out of this. Even if Krillin and Gohan came to save her, they were no match against the likes of Vegeta. Just look at what he’d done to Zarbon! He’d cream the midget and the kid, no doubt about it. So help from them wasn’t a likely source of getting her butt saved.

Bulma also realized that Vegeta would probably kill her after he raped her—which, she understood as she thought about it a moment longer, would probably be a good thing, after going through what he planned for her.

The only other way she could get out of this was to use her brain—and her feminine wiles.

But how?

He was almost there now, practically on top of her. She was sure the only reason he hadn’t pounced already was because he was savoring the fear that his slow advancement caused her, the anticipation only heightening his lust. The evil smirk on his face sickened her, making the pit of her stomach flip-flop in disgust and dread. How could she dissuade him from doing this to her?

Out of options, and literally with her back against a wall, Bulma did the first thing that came to her mind: she talked.

"Why do you want to rape me?"

Stupid, stupid Bulma! She chastised herself. What kind of question was that? Honestly, it had been the first thing off the top of her head that she could think of. After all, what else did she have to talk about with this guy? The beautiful Namekian weather? Just look how far that stupid line had gotten Krillin—nowhere, fast!

Vegeta stopped for a moment, apparently confused that she would choose to talk to him. His smirk quickly turned into a scowl. "Saiyan men have needs," he replied. "And I enjoy the smell of your fear," he added in a low, husky growl. The smirk was back, and he started moving towards her again.

His words struck Bulma, and suddenly a thought came to her; her eyes widened. Could it be …? No, it couldn’t! But, wait, then again, maybe it could …

"Has any woman ever actually consented to have sex with you?" she asked cautiously. If her theory was correct, then maybe, just maybe, she had a way to get out of this alive …

He stopped again, glaring down at her. "Foolish woman, you ask too many questions," he snarled.

Bulma rolled her eyes with a nonchalance she didn’t feel. "Well, if you’re going to end up killing me anyway—which I assume you are—you might as well just answer what few questions I have in order to humor me in my final hour before sending me to the ‘next dimension,’ as you call it," she snapped angrily.

Vegeta burst out laughing. "Well, well, well," he mocked, "Looks like the little girl is smarter than she looks." His eyes narrowed. "And more foolish, too."

Bulma glared at him, but didn’t say anything.

Vegeta smirked and folded his arms across his chest. "Fine. I’ll answer your question. No."

Bulma cocked her head to the side, preparing to put her newly formed plan into action. Sometimes being such a genius really came in handy!

"Why not?"

Vegeta glared at her. "I allowed one question, but that’s enough!" he shouted. "I’ll make this quick; you won’t suffer long."

"I’ll just bet you would!" Bulma exclaimed, standing up and facing him, refusing to show any fear. There was no way to fight destiny, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t go out with a bang! "You’re just a ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ kind of guy, aren’t you?" she sneered. "Without the ‘thank you’ part," she added almost as an after thought.

A vein in his temple began to throb. "Why, you—"

"That’s right," Bulma teased him, "Go ahead and kill me! Are you not only a rapist, but a necrophiliac, too?"

Vegeta reeled back as though she were Goku, and had landed a solid blow to his chest. "You disgusting foul mouthed woman!" he exclaimed, "What the fuck is your problem? I fuck them before I kill them, not after!"

Although he didn’t know it, her respect for him had just gone up a notch. Although that didn’t mean much, considering that placed him only a single notch above ‘lowly, disgusting, nasty ape-boy circus freak.’

"Then why do you enjoy raping women?" she asked softly, completely changing tactics. That was the point, though—to throw him off base, confuse him, make him wonder what the hell was going on. Then maybe she’d be able to find some way out of this situation.

He just stared at her, as though he didn’t comprehend a word she said. Finally, he shrugged. "The thrill of jerking off only last for so long," he said sincerely.

Bulma felt a little giddiness running up her spine; her tactics were working! He was getting more confused by the minute! Although some of his responses were puzzling to her, if what she suspected were true then they really weren’t puzzling at all.

"Then why do you take advantage of helpless women? Why not just find a woman that wants to have sex with you, or even one of the space whores that I’m sure Freeza has lying around on their backs somewhere? Why go out and search for unassuming young victims instead?"

He continued to stare at her, and she found it incredibly unnerving. Why couldn’t he just react? Or even better, just kill her and have done with it! But a part of her didn’t want him to kill her; a part of her wanted him to respond, wanted to see if her theory was correct.

After a long, tense moment of silence, he finally snorted and gave her the reply she sought. "Where would I find a woman that wants to have sex?" he asked, mimicking her words. "Women don’t want to have sex! Females don’t enjoy it the way males do. Their sole purposes are for breeding and pleasuring the male, nothing else."

"So you’re saying that you don’t think women can feel pleasure?" Bulma asked.

Bingo. Really, sometimes being a genius was just too good!

"Of course they can’t!"

Bulma smiled at him, changing her tactics yet again, confusing him even more. "I’m sure you don’t want to hear this, Prince Vegeta, but … you’re wrong."

After a moment of being taken aback by her smile, he glared at her again. "I’m the Prince of all Saiyans, Woman!" he declared harshly, "I’m never wrong!"

Bulma shook her head. "But you’re not a woman! You don’t know what women feel!"

"I don’t fucking care what women feel!" he ground out. "I just want to fuck you and get it over with!" He started advancing on her again, the anger in his eyes overriding the lust.

"Wait!" Bulma exclaimed, but he didn’t stop.

"If you’ve never been with a woman who chose of her own free will to be with you, then how do you know it’s not better?"

That stopped him. He gave her a suspicious look. "Better?" he asked.

Bulma nodded. "Just ask any other man! It’s much better with a woman who wants it. Because the more pleasure a woman feels, the more pleasure the man feels, too."

Today must have been her lucky day, because he appeared intrigued by this concept. "Go on."

Bulma cleared her throat awkwardly. "Well, you see … when a man gives pleasure to a woman, he gets pleasure from knowing that he’s given it. And when a woman feels pleasure, she wants her man to feel it too, so she gives him more pleasure than he would otherwise have." She shrugged. "It’s as simple as that!"

Okay, now he looked really interested!

"And where would I find a willing woman such as you describe?" he asked, his eyes narrowed into sexy slits and his voice a low, husky purr that sent shivers running up and down her tingling spine.

She raised a single hand shyly. "Since you’re going to take me anyway," she said, blushing, "whether I like it or not, I might as well … like it." Her blush deepened. "And if I like it," she finished in a whisper, "chances are you’ll like it more, too." She could no longer hold his gaze, so she turned her beet red face away from him and pressed her back more firmly against the rock wall.

The glint in his eyes was unmistakable. He was going to do it! He was going to follow her suggestion!

Even though she’d rather not sleep with him at all, she knew she had the choice rape or seduction. And she’d definitely choose seduction over rape any day!

In a single, swift movement he was by her side, growling as his hands grasped her yellow vest, ready to rip the offending garment from her body and tear it to shreds.

"Wait!" she cried, her hands grasping his wrists.

His eyes narrowed again. "What the fuck is it now, Woman?" he asked cruelly, his patience wearing thin.

Bulma trembled a little in fear, but quickly steeled her spine and looked him straight in the eye.

"You’re going about it all wrong!" she told him.

With a low growl he flung her away from him and punched into the rock wall where her head had been, creating a large, fist-sized hole in the rock. He then turned back to her and bit out angrily, "I want to get off, Woman, and I want to get off now. I don’t give a fuck about whether it will be better or not! I just want to fucking get off!"

Oh, shit, Bulma thought to herself, her mind working frantically to find a solution to this new problem. Realizing that she had landed in a sitting position and was now on her knees, eyeing the bulge that still strained against his crotch, she suddenly had an idea.

"Have you ever had a … blow job?" she asked him as seductively as she could in this situation. If she’d had a sexy negligee or some make up, she was sure she could have done better.

Vegeta glared daggers at her again, stalking forward until he stood mere inches away from her. "What’s that," he sneered, "another one of your precious ‘women pleasuring’ techniques?"

Bulma giggled. If only he knew! "No, silly!" The fact that she was referring to Vegeta, one of the most powerful men and quite possibly the most stoic person in the universe as ‘silly’ didn’t even cross her mind. "It’s when a woman uses her mouth to pleasure a man, like this." She leaned forward and pressed a quick, chaste kiss against the bulge beneath the navy blue spandex before drawing back to see his reaction.

Vegeta gasped and took a step back as the bulge quivered with delight at the unique sensation.

"What kind of whore’s trick is that?" he asked with something akin to awe.

Now it was Bulma’s turn to glare. "It’s not a whore’s trick! It’s something a woman does for a man, in order to pleasure him! In hopes that he," she added suggestively, "will return the favor out of gratitude. Now, do you want me to continue or not?"

Vegeta frowned. "Whatever," he replied noncommittally.

But Bulma was somehow able to sense that, under the surface, he was very excited about experiencing something new.

Her theory had been right! He wasn’t one of those men that went around raping women for the thrill of it. He’d been raised from boyhood by the evil Freeza, and just didn’t know any better than the lizard tyrant’s manipulative, misogynistic ways! She was sure that Freeza had purposely misled him to believe those horrible lies about women, and that if Vegeta knew the truth about sexual relations between men and women, he would be horrified by his past actions. But was ignorance really a valid excuse for the things he’d done? Then again, he had done worse things, such as killing millions of innocent people. But surely he could change! The evil things he had done had been under the tutelage of Freeza, who found it amusing to raise creatures to kill. Although fighting was in the Saiyan Prince’s blood, somehow Bulma didn’t want him to turn out like Freeza. She wanted to teach him to go beyond that, teach him that Freeza’s ways were wrong, that he didn’t have to be evil. And she’d start by teaching him about the true pleasures involving men and women.

In a way, he was almost like a virgin—he knew so little about what really happened behind closed doors between men and women. He actually thought that a woman couldn’t feel pleasure like a man could. Wait until he found out that women could have multiple orgasms! That would knock his socks—er, boots off!

Suddenly, Bulma began looking forward to her encounter with Vegeta. He really wasn’t that bad looking—he just smelled a little rank, probably from all the sweating and fighting, and his forehead was a little big—but other than that, he was actually kind of cute! And it had been so long since she’d been with a man. Yamcha was dead, so it wasn’t really cheating, was it? Not at all!

Besides, it’s not like she had a choice in the matter.

Bulma leaned forward, trying to take off his armor, but it wouldn’t budge. She frowned and tried lifting it off of him again, but she still couldn’t get it.

"A little help?" she asked, looking up at him. The bastard was laughing at her! He found it funny that she couldn’t get his armor off!

She glared at him as he nonchalantly, in a single, fluid move, brought the armor over his head and threw it to the side as though it were nothing. He then made quick work of his gloves and spandex undershirt, and quickly shoved the spandex pants down to his knees, revealing to Bulma’s hungry eyes a surprisingly large erection.

Vegeta’s height belied his length!

Bulma, realizing how impatient the Saiyan was, wasted no time getting down—or rather, going down—to business. But she wasn’t going to just suck him off quickly and get over it; she would torture him with her tongue, make him beg for her mouth to encompass his entire length within its depths.

She started with simple kisses along the thick, corded muscles of his thighs. She was vaguely surprised by the sheer mass of muscle that covered his entire body; she’d thought Yamcha was buff, but he was nothing compared to Vegeta! And the scars that covered his torso intrigued her as well; she felt as though she wanted to get to know each and every one, to hear him tell her how he got it and what happened to the opponent that dare inflict such a wound upon him.

Her lips found one such wound slicing across his thigh, and she quickly traced it with her tongue, making the Saiyan shudder above her, his eyes closing as he leaned his head back, concentrating on the sensations her quick little tongue provoked. Wickedly, she ran her tongue along the sensitive scar, giving it a little nip with her teeth, causing a growl of pure desire to emerge from deep within his throat.

Bulma let out a husky chuckle, exalting in her power to make him feel these sensations. Her kisses gradually worked their way up the sensitive skin of his inner thigh until she reached the dangling sacs beneath his arousal, which had tightened with his desire for her. Her mouth latched on and she began to apply a gentle sucking pressure. His hands fisted themselves in her hair, pulling her closer to him, and the tip of her nose brushed against the underside of his quivering length.

She could hear his control slipping; the moans and gasps of pleasure that he had managed to contain in the beginning were now coming out more frequently. She benevolently decided that it was time to end the torture and give him what he wanted.

As she let her hand take over the fondling of his sensitive spheres, her lips found their way to the very tip of his erection. She started out with a simple kiss on the tip, making his length jump as if it had a will of its own. She then began nibbling and licking her way down to the base, where she gently nuzzled the sensitive underside, bringing out a tormented groan from her tortured subject.

Finally taking pity on him, and his state of intense need, she placed her mouth around the head of his shaft and began to suck on him as a child would suck on a lollipop.

The shocked gasp she wrung from Vegeta’s mouth was more than enough satisfaction for her. She continued to suck on the head, making his entire body tremble in response. She would have grinned at his reaction had her mouth not been otherwise occupied.

Soon, she could feel that he was nearing the end, and she changed her strategy yet again, taking his entire length all the way to the back of her throat and withdrawing until only the head remained, before leaning forward again to take him back inside her. Her hands reached around to cup his naked buttocks as her head bobbed up and down between his legs, increasing in speed and pressure, bringing him to the very edge of sanity, until he finally exploded into her mouth, his salty seed gushing down her throat as she swallowed every last drop.

When his climax had subsided, Vegeta dropped to the ground beside her, desperately gasping for breath. He eyed her as though she were some sort of a witch.

"Woman," he began, but stopped out of confusion. Bulma’s heart felt a little warmer towards him that even Vegeta, the great Prince of all Saiyans as he liked to remind everyone, could be at a loss for words.

She giggled and leaned forward to kiss him, but he shoved away from her as though she were disease-ridden.

Angry at having her innocent little kiss rejected, Bulma glared at him.

"Keep those filthy lips away from me, woman," he spat, no longer at a loss for words. "I know where that mouth has just been!"

Bulma, who knew exactly how to utilize her feminine powers of persuasion to the hilt to manipulate men into getting what she wanted, decided that this would be the perfect place for a pout. "But Vegeta," she breathed in a sad, sexy voice, "don’t you want to taste yourself on my lips?" She took this opportunity to have her tongue dart out of her mouth and slowly, sensuously lick its way across both her upper and lower lips, as she closed her eyes in an expression of pure ecstasy, before the little pink wonder disappeared once again inside her mouth. She reopened her eyes and focused their gaze on Vegeta, whose own eyes were staring so intently at her mouth that she thought it might spontaneously burst into flames due to the heat in his gaze.

Her words—or maybe her tongue’s actions—must have had a profound effect on him, because a moment later Bulma found herself flat on her back, with the prince’s mouth devouring hers and his hands roaming their way across her body.

Bulma let out a moan and shifted herself so that she fit together with her Saiyan Prince more easily, and lifted her hands to bury them in his flame-like upsweep of hair.

Their kiss continued and soon grew more heated, arousing both participants. Bulma could feel herself growing wetter by the moment, even as Vegeta ground his newly recovered erection mercilessly into her thigh. She could feel his hands growing rougher on her body, and knew that if she didn’t act soon, he’d end up raping her after all, if only because it was the only way he’d ever known.

"Ungh, Vegeta," she moaned, placing her hands on his bare chest and trying to push him away.

He growled angrily at her resistance, and refused to let her push him off her beautiful body. He pressed his body even closer to hers, trapping her arms in between them.

"But, Vegeta," she asked in a panic, "Don’t you want to try out what I told you about? Don’t you want to try out something different?"

He glared at her. "How do I know it will be better?" he asked huskily.

"I promise," Bulma replied softly. What was it about him that touched her heart, even as he reveled in the role of the bad guy?

Vegeta didn’t seem completely convinced by her promise, so she added, "you’ll never know if you don’t try. You lose nothing by trying it out," she told him.

He was still intrigued by what she had said earlier, so he shifted his body away from hers, freeing her arms and looking down at her, unsure of what to do next.

His hands went to the collar of her yellow vest, prepared to rip the ugliest article of clothing he had ever seen in two and tear it away from her body.

"No, wait!" Bulma exclaimed, her hands grabbing his wrists before he could go through with the destruction of her only clothing. He looked at her again with that menacing, emotionless look that always seemed to hover on his face as Bulma swallowed hard. "You’re not supposed to just rip the clothes off," she explained. "You slide them off, gently, slowly exposing the skin. Then with every inch of skin you reveal, you follow it with you hands, and your," she blushed, "mouth."

He cocked an eyebrow, interested in this idea. Bulma was sure it was different from anything he’d heard or done before, and to him that made it all the more exotic and intriguing.

His hands on her vest were somewhat gentler now; as gentle as Vegeta could be, Bulma imagined. He slipped it off her shoulders and tossed it aside, revealing the black spandex she wore beneath.

He smirked at her choice of attire before his eager hands began to smooth it away from her skin. He slid the neckline down, and leaned forward to press his lips against her collarbone. Bulma moaned as his tongue caressed her heated flesh, and his teeth nipped at her. He then continued to trail his lips down her body with every further inch of skin he exposed, until he came to her breasts.

They were so beautiful that they took his breath away. Large, but not too large, perfectly shaped and rounded, covered by pale, creamy skin and pink nipples that jutted out from the peaks of the mounds. Momentarily forgetting the task of unclothing the woman beneath him, he reached up a hand to cup her breast, then leaned forward, bringing his mouth to the succulent, inviting pink morsel.

As his teeth bit down gently and began to tug, Bulma let out a startled gasp. It felt so … she began to lose her grasp on reality as her hands tangled themselves in his hair, trying to pull his head even closer as she moaned her pleasure. She felt him chuckle against her breast as he took the nipple fully into his mouth and suckled, driving her out of her mind with indescribable pleasure.

By the time he switched to her other breast, Bulma was writhing and moaning beneath him, her hands clutching at his body and her restraint almost completely dissipated.

She was disappointed when his ministrations ended so that he could continue unclothing her, but she knew that an even greater reward would soon be hers. She shuddered in anticipation of feeling him inside her, watching his broad, muscular shoulders hovering above her as he thrust in and out of her tight, moist cleft.

Growing impatient, Vegeta made quick work of the rest of the spandex, flinging it aside as he had the yellow vest. His eyes immediately fell to the crop of neatly trimmed lavender curls between her thighs. Noticing how the color differed from the aquamarine hair atop her head, he smirked.

Bulma blushed, but stopped him when he tried to pry apart her legs. "Not yet, Vegeta!" she told him, even though she wanted nothing more in the world then to have him thrusting in and out of her in a piston-like frenzy. But she had started this lesson of teaching him how to please a woman, and she had to go through with it until the very end. She couldn’t skimp out when they were just getting to the best part!

He glared at her. "What then?" his voice was gravelly and rough, slurred with desire, and the very sound of it made Bulma quiver, wanting him more than ever.

"Before you … you know," she blushed, nodding her head in the general direction of his rampant erection, "You use your … hand." She blushed even more. She’d never thought that she would ever be explaining the art of foreplay to a short Saiyan Prince, and she’d never realized that it would be so embarrassing!

Vegeta frowned, hesitating, and she could see that he was unsure of what to do. So, taking his hand in hers, she spread her legs slightly and led his hand to the core of her passion. With her hand guiding his, she gently pushed one of his fingers inside her slick passage. His eyes widened as he saw his finger doing the rightful work of a much larger appendage.

Devilishly, Bulma decided to have a little fun with him, and contracted her inner muscles around his finger, squeezing him gently. Vegeta drew in a sharp breath and stared down at her in awe.

"What manner of creature are you?" he murmured.

Bulma giggled, guiding another of his fingers inside her until there were two damp fingers stretching her warm, wet passage. With a sigh, she grasped his wrist and began slowly thrusting his fingers in and out. A quick learner, Vegeta soon took over, adding another finger for good measure as he continued to thrust them inside her. Bulma arched her hips up against his fingers, making him growl and thrust them inside her more roughly.

Bulma moaned, and gently guided his thumb to the small nub hidden beneath her lavender curls. She pressed his thumb firmly against her and sucked in a breath at the intense pleasure that ripped its way through her body, finally wringing a strangled cry from her mouth. When Vegeta saw the effect of this simple spot on her, he began pressing it more roughly, his thumb swirling around, causing the bud to swell out from beneath its hood, giving him even greater access to it.

Leaning forward, he brushed his rough tongue against it, making her scream out his name in pure ecstasy. Then he grabbed it gently between his teeth and tugged, his actions flinging Bulma over the proverbial cliff, causing her shudder as she cried out his name, and her womanly juices coating his fingers as she came.

As she lay trembling on the ground, Vegeta withdrew his fingers and, meeting her eyes, sucked her feminine juices off of them.

Bulma had never seen anything more erotic in her life.

Sitting up when she had somewhat recovered, she took his hand and brought it to her mouth. Her eyes never leaving his, she took the one finger he hadn’t already sucked dry and slipped it inside her mouth. She moaned around his finger as she sucked her own, sweet juices from him, her actions mimicking her earlier performance, when she had taken his large member in her mouth.

Finally, Vegeta could take no more foreplay, and Bulma was on her back again, the Saiyan Prince positioned between her legs.

His heated black eyes stared down into her passion-filled blue gaze. "So it’s true," he murmured. "Women can experience pleasure, too."

Bulma simply nodded, and wrapped her legs around his waist, inviting him to take what she so freely, so passionately gave.

With a tortured groan, Vegeta unleashed his restraint, thrusting himself inside her.

Bulma gasped as she felt him stretching her. If she hadn’t been fully lubricated from their earlier foreplay, she was sure he would have ripped her in two. He started to move again, but she contracted her inner muscles around him, holding him inside her.

He sent her a sharp look of warning, to which she explained, "I … I just need a moment to adjust to your size." She blushed.

Vegeta smirked at the indirect compliment.

As soon as she felt herself adjust to accommodate him, her inner muscles relaxed and she lifted her hips, urging him on.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Vegeta’s strokes began long and deep, then worked their way to a faster pace. Bulma hung on to him, her arms flung around him for dear life, as her hips moved in a perfect rhythm to his, synchronized.

She tried to think about their situation, tried to think about what would happen after he had finished with her, tried to think of anything at all, but her brain refused to respond to her desperate pleas. The feel of him moving inside her drove all thoughts away. Finally, she gave into the sensations, and allowed herself to revel in his movements.

With a mighty roar, he slammed into her one last time, sending both of them hurtling wildly into a whirlwind of pure, unadulterated sensation that consumed their bodies, causing them to burst into flames as they burned, together.

Afterwards, Bulma lay curled up against Vegeta’s chest, trembling with the aftershocks of the most amazing, earth-shattering—or would it be Namek-shattering? Her thoughts were still too scattered to even think straight—orgasm of her entire life. Vegeta acted much calmer than she did, his breathing low and even, but she could tell that he was shaken, too, and that thought made her very proud.

She, a mere woman, had conquered the Saiyan Prince, making him bow to her will!

With a sigh, Bulma snuggled closer to his warm body, enjoying the feel of his arms wrapped around her.

But a moment later the arms were gone, as was her prince.

Bulma blinked and sat up, watching him with wide eyes as he began to dress.

"Wh-where are you going?" she asked softly.

"I’ve already spent too much time on a simple little fuck," he replied gruffly. "While Freeza’s had plenty of time to try and track down my dragonballs."

Bulma shrank a little inside. Was that all their beautiful encounter had meant to him? Was that all she had meant to him? Had she really meant nothing more to him than just another nice piece of ass?

The smoldering look he gave her as he slipped the Saiyan armor over his head made her tremble. There was such desire in that gaze, belying his words. She had meant something to him! His pride just refused to show it. She’d have to steel herself against the cruel words that she knew would come, because she knew the truth behind them. They were just a wall he constructed around himself for defense, because he couldn’t trust anyone. But she’d make him learn to trust her. She had to!

She was falling in love with him.

The realization hit her with all the force of a brick in the head. She pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them, as she watched him continue getting ready, pretending complete indifference to her presence.

Yes, she was falling in love with him. Despite what they say, absence does not make the heart grow fonder, and with Yamcha gone, she had been lonely, her body yearning for a man. Somehow, she knew that Vegeta was lonely, too. He’d never had a woman care about him before, and he couldn’t trust anyone. He was completely alone in the universe. And something about that called out to her, made her see the hidden vulnerability that lay behind his actions. He might act like a first-class bastard, but beneath it all was a scared little boy, taken from his home when he was too young to know what was going on. The last of his race except for Goku, a man he despised for defeating him. He had no one to turn to, no one to hold him and stroke his hair and tell him that everything was going to be alright. His heart had turned cold; not because he couldn’t love, but because he didn’t know how. No one had ever shown him any love, so he didn’t have the first clue about how to give it back.

But he’d learn. And Bulma would be the one to teach him.

"What are you going to do with me?" she asked softly.

He looked over his shoulder at her and smirked as he picked up the dragonball he had stolen from her and Krillin earlier. "You’re going to stay here, woman," he said lowly. "And if I feel like it, I might come back for you after I’ve killed Freeza and Kakkarot, for a victory fuck." With those cruel words, he powered up and blasted off into the air.

"Wait!" Bulma cried, jumping to her feet and running after him wildly. "Wait, you can’t leave me here!" She tripped and fell to her hands and knees on the ground, moaning. He couldn’t do this to her! Dammit! She didn’t want to be left all alone, possibly forever, without anyone to talk to!

With a moan she collapsed to the earth, sighing heavily.

What a price to pay, for loving a Saiyan Prince.

* * * * *