Three missed calls? Yamucha had incessantly called her all day, but Bulma spent the majority of the afternoon in the Gravity Room otherwise engaged with the resident Saiyan Prince. The thought of Vegeta just then sent lightning bolts from her temples down through her loins, and she bit her lip trying not to giggle. She threw her phone into the laundry bin and sprawled on her bed with a smile. She couldn't stop hugging herself and touching her skin, running fingers again over her flesh in places where Vegeta had. They'd spent hours together. Vegeta certainly had a warrior's stamina, and Bulma had basked in orgasm after delicious orgasm. Their tensions shared on the Capsule Corp campus had finally apexed, and they'd sated their needs with the other's more than willing assistance. Maybe this shared, mind-blowing experience was just what Vegeta and Bulma needed to move past their rocky interactions into something more civil, Bulma thought. Guiltily, she realized that ever since Vegeta came on to her the day before last and initiated physical contact, she hadn't thought of Yamucha once. Not for a single moment. She decided she would call Yamucha back tomorrow once she could think of absolutely anything else besides the juicy sex she'd just had with Vegeta. She fell asleep almost instantly.

Bulma didn't get a chance to call Yamucha after all. He let himself in through the west entrance the next morning. Security knew his face and the nature of his relationship with Bulma Briefs and never question him. When Yamucha barged into the living room (in that heavy-footed way that he did), Bulma had just come out of her morning shower. She heard him downstairs calling for her, and she tightened the towel around her chest, combed her hair, and leapt down the stairs to say hello.

"Oh… good morning, Bulma!" Yamucha greeted her, staring longingly at the two pale mounds bubbling over her tightly secured towel before meeting her eye to eye. As they got comfortable in the living room and briefly breakfasted on a tangerine and pear, Yamucha explained that he and Tien were in town for the weekend taking a break from their mountain training retreat. "So can I see you tonight? We'll eat in and crash early like last time?" he said with a knowing wiggle of his eyebrows.

She smiled at him. "No, let's go out first. I haven't seen you in weeks! You meat-heads keep running off from civilization, leaving me here bored out of my mind!"

"Well, if we took you training, you'd be way more bored," Yamucha noted, which made her laugh and nod in agreement.

Someone else on the compound noted Yamucha's arrival too. The door opened from the lawn, and Vegeta appeared in a blur of motion to stand before them both. He glared at Yamucha, then at her, and back to Yamucha again.

Yamucha nodded and murmured a "hey", as he did with people he didn't like but to whom he wanted to be polite.

"What are you doing here?" Vegeta all but snarled.

Yamucha was taken aback. "W-what? What is your problem, Vegeta?"

"You can't come here. And you-" his furious eyes held Bulma's now. "Presenting your udders to him in that fashion! Get upstairs!"

Bulma was stunned and blinked at him. "Don't talk to her like that," Yamucha was saying next to her, but Bulma shook her head in disbelief: "My WHAT?"

Vegeta snorted and rolled his eyes. "Your mammalian milk receptacles. Cover them and leave so I can give this weakling the beating he deserves. How DARE you, human male scum-"

She crossed her arms, fuming. "OK, stop. What the hell, Vegeta? They're breasts! And Yamucha is my boyfriend and can come and go as I please. Get a grip!"

Vegeta began to emit the faintest yellow glow from his skin. "He's your WHAT?!"

Bulma stood up and tugged Yamucha towards the door trying to quickly diffuse the scene. "Come back at 7, okay?"

Yamucha began to protest. "Bulma, get this psycho out of your house! I've told you a million times, I won't have it!"

Vegeta barged in between them. "You won't have it? YOU?"

"Enough!" Bulma screamed as she gave Yamucha a final shove out the door and kicked it closed behind him. She turned and slammed her back against the door to face her troublesome new lover.

"You look here, Vegeta. We had a steamy time, OK? It was great. I really needed it…. We both really needed it, I think. But what are you even on about?" Vegeta's pursed lips twitched in time with his eyebrow, but she continued. "….I didn't imagine you'd be possessive like this, or even care! What do you think is going on here?"

He threw up his arms and spoke in his usual arrogant fashion. "Well you're mine, of course!"

She clicked her tongue and stormed away from him, heading up the stairs.

Vegeta sourly followed her. It seemed there was no shaking him, so she allowed him to follow her into her room and then closed the door. "Vegeta…." she began as his eyes remained glued on her. His anger was palpable, although she couldn't believe he was actually jealous! Are they really about to have the talk?! "I'm flattered, really. ….But you have to understand. A hot fling doesn't mean we're a thing…."

He grunted, his arms still crossed. He looked away from her now, but she continued: "I mean, it was hot. So hot. It was…..OK, look, it was amazing. The best sex on Earth, are you happy now? ….But, do you seriously think I'd give up ten years with Yamucha for a fling with some pig-headed alien?"

He stepped towards her then. Something set him off. "And do you think I would let someone else taste what I have taken for myself? The Saiyan prince sharing his spoils with human trash?" He grabbed her under her arms and held her in place as he spat his words in her face. "What I have deemed fit for myself is not worthy of a clown so pitiful and worthless. …..You wanted me. I heard you! I smelled you! I smell you still. Even now you emit your want for me!"

Bulma was shaking, half from nerves and half from his convincing seduction. His possessiveness, his attention for her was making her wild, and she certainly was getting warm between her legs. Of course he knew that.

"What can he even do for a creature like you?" Vegeta pressed on, running his hands up her back to keep her close. She knew he probably had her right where he wanted her, and she had no response. Vegeta roused a long-dead passion in her, perhaps the first true womanly passion she'd ever really had. Her passion for Yamucha when they were teenagers was girlish: all giggles, stomach butterflies, and groping in the dark. What kept them together now? History? Was that all?

As Vegeta leaned in to capture her lips, she didn't deny him. In fact, she closed her eyes and opened her mouth to him. As they kissed, he walked her back to the bed and laid her down. She let him pull her towel away, stare, and then swoop back in to continue kissing her. They laid there tangling in the other for—minutes? An hour? Bulma didn't have a clue. Never in her life had she kissed a man or been kissed like this. Everything that could be touched was caressed, all the while never parting their mouths. There was barely time for breath as their lips changed positions to bite and suckle the other's again. They rolled across the bed kissing with the fury that came so easily to them both. As Bulma's hands moved desperately over his body, Vegeta at last lost his shirt and track pants. She would probably find them ripped on the floor later.

Bulma's legs wrapped through his, and she felt fingers sneaking around her inner thighs in response. Before she could respond, a finger was toying between her lips and whisking proof of her excitement in circles. When she felt that finger pull away and Vegeta's tip slip into her, she broke his kiss to throw her head back and moan. It teased on the edge but never dipped beneath the crest of her moist quicksand. Bulma's hips jerked into his movements, but he wouldn't let her have it. With one hand he held her at an angle against his chest as the other hand slid urgently up and down her hip, her waist, and over the side of a breast. "Beg me," he whispered.

She accidentally smiled, a gesture he accidentally mirrored.

"No," she retorted.

He slowed his hips and made his swooping teases even crueler. Her pit tried to swallow him when he teased too deeply, but he pulled himself clear each time. "Beg me" he repeated into the crook of her neck.

"Mmpf" came her muffled reply, shaking her head. She couldn't hold out under this duress, and finally her legs tightened against his thighs, and her depths throbbed one last time for him. "Vegeta…. please."

At Saiyan speed he responded, pumping her lower muscles faster than she could follow, displacing cream with every plunge. The thick flesh of her hips and breasts rippled as he rocked her forward and back.

Now that she was sufficiently distracted, Vegeta reached behind her head and took her phone from the bedside table. He had watched her use it countless times and knew what to press to achieve his goal.

Recent Calls. Yamucha. Video Call.

Dialing…..

He propped it against her lamp, grinned, and returned his hands to her body, touching her everywhere he could reach as he continued to gorge her ravenous loins on his meat.

"You are mine! MINE!" he growled into her neck. "Not thinking of that weakling now, are you!" He laughed maniacally as he licked his way up the side of her jaw and then grasped her lips with his in a breathless, dueling kiss. He banged his proud, Saiyan flesh into her like a hammer to a nail and received Bulma's breathless mewling as answer. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she concentrated only on funneling her excitement, willing it to burst forth from between her thighs at any moment.

"Who makes your pussy ooze?" he screamed, not knowing the word for orgasm.

Bulma could barely relay language, so heavy were her moans with the labor of breathing. "Y-youuu."

Vegeta leaned back and smacked her hard on the side of her buttocks. The reverberation from the bed knocked the phone from its perch to land on the floor. Capturing only the sights of uneven ceiling paint, the sounds of moans and creaking continued to still reach the phone. The bed frame was slamming into the wall over and over again.

"And to whom do you belong?!" Vegeta's voice carried over the pounding of the wall.

She found her voice as her body convulsed and her muscles smothered his manhood. "VEGETAAAA!" The movements of the bed ceased, but Bulma's cries continued. When she began to calm, Vegeta pulled out, rolled her over to face the sheets, and pulled her up to him by the ankles.

"Don't you forget," he growled, pulling her feet apart and burying his face in the utterly pummeled delta between her legs. The phone's speaker transmitted a cacophony of wet, slopping noises, and then the phone went dark. The recipient had ended the call. Never losing his smirk, Vegeta continued lapping her up from the bowl of her vulva until she cried for him to stop. But he didn't stop, and not long after she convulsed again, sending more of her sap down his chin to a soundtrack of her sighs.

She was his.