%%%%%
The asteroid shattered into smithereens. The blond warrior cackled ominously. He had business to finish.
####
The loud crash and resultant aftershocks sent Bulma tumbling from the couch. The television screen became static. "Darn it! Only five minutes left in the show and this had to happen!" Straightening her orange striped dress, she stomped outside to see the cause of the interruption.
Imbedded in the middle of her yard was the missing space pod. The door opened and a ramp slowly slid toward the ground. Before the ramp finished its descent, one impatient alien prince flew out of the opening and landed before the irate woman.
"Vegeta. I should have known. Only you have that sort of timing. I've been watching that show for weeks and you had to choose now to come home and make me miss the ending. And where have you been? You know that I was worried about you. And aren't you hot wearing that high-collared, long- sleeved outfit of yours. Where are your shorts? Oh, I forgot, space is cold. And --"
Ah, her voice was rose petals caressing his eardrums. Without a word, he grabbed her about the waist and tossed her over his shoulders.
"Yah! What are you doing to me?" Bulma pounded his back and tried to claw and pinch it. Unfortunately, the skin-tight outfit left no slack for grabbing.
He spanked her bottom. "Be quiet. You will soon learn your place, Woman." The Saiyan jogged into the house.
Bulma lifted her head and saw the direction in which he was bound. She smiled widely. "Are you taking me to the boudoir to make me a woman?"
"You are already a woman. I am just making you mine."
She giggled gleefully and clapped her hands in joy. It was about time!
######
Five minutes later:
He sat at the foot of the bed, steepling his fingers and tapping the two index together. She was at the head and hummed softly to herself. The clock ticked loudly.
"So," she began.
"So," he added.
"How was space?"
"Fine."
* Silence. *
"Did you become a Super Saiyan?"
"Yes."
"That's nice."
* Silence. *
"How did it happen? I mean the Super Saiyan."
Vegeta blushed. "I became angry."
"Oh."
* More silence. *
They resumed tapping and humming, humming and tapping, tapping and...
"Do something already!" she screamed. "You're the man, you should make the first move."
The Saiyan nearly fell off the bed from the force of her voice.
"Fine. If that is what you want." He threw her down and pressed his body on top of hers.
"About time. I've been waiting and wondering with you being so slow and mmph--"
He silenced her with a kiss. Bulma gave in willingly. The kisses deepened. The passion burned stronger. They kicked off their shoes and he removed his chestplate. She clawed at his clothes. He fumbled for her buttons, only to discover that there were no buttons. The old woman's novels had been misleading.
He gasped and whimpered as Bulma grabbed the waist of his outfit to lift the top over his head. He whimpered again when she became more aggressive and pulled and twisted the garment upwards. The feeling became too intense, and he trapped her hands in his to halt the action.
"Did you not realize that this is a one-piece?!" His voice cracked slightly.
Bulma grinned sheepishly. "Sorry."
Vegeta stood on the floor and readjusted himself, hoping that nothing was bruised. Pulling the collar out until it stretched over both shoulders, he proceeded to remove his arms from the sleeves one at a time.
Witnessing the unsexy disrobing, Bulma inwardly cringed and made a note to re-invent his Saiyan outfit into a two-piece. Only women should wear unitards.
Vegeta returned to bed, his bottom half still clothed. He wanted to give the Woman a bit of mystery, modesty having more than a little influence in his decision.
They commenced with the kissing. His hands trailed down her sides and caressed her thighs. She moaned encouragement. Pressing his hands against the hem of her knit dress, he slowly slid the garment upwards. They rose together, and Bulma lifted her arms above her head. She arched her back.
"Vegeta!" she cried. "Vegeta!" she cried again. "Stop! It's too tight!"
But the Saiyan was too deeply involved. He could not stop now and concentrated his efforts. She had wanted this, and he was going to finish it. His hands balled into fists with the exertion. He raised his arms to their full extent and his clenched hands moved vigorously from side to side. His Woman craned her neck and cried out again. But his arms were short, and the dress remained caught underneath her chin.
"Vegeta! Stop it!" Bulma pushed her husband away. The dress hung limply on her head like a shroud from a reject fashion show. Her hands, still caught in the sleeves, massaged her covered temples. "Now, kneel and gently pull the dress off," she instructed.
The stubborn garment easily slipped free. He would have to remember this technique the next time.
She scowled at him in disbelief. Vegeta's face remained blank. As Bulma lifted her hands to smooth her hair, Vegeta captured them in his and gently kissed each palm. She sighed and melted.
Interpreting her actions as favorable, the prince became bolder and moved to kiss her lips. The old woman's novels proved to have some useful tips after all.
He rose on his knees and hooked his fingers underneath the elastic.
"Just what do you think you're doing?" Her tone begged caution on his part.
"I am removing the rest of your clothes." The books had warned him of the female's insecurities with her first time. "Do not worry, I will be gentle," he quoted, choking down the bile. The language filth in those novels sometimes amazed him.
"Vegeta," Bulma slowed her breathing. "You do not pull this over my head! This bra has underwires! And hooks in the back! See!" She twisted and pointed at the closures so that even the Amish could see.
"Stop with the yelling!" The Saiyan pressed his fingers to his temples and wondered if sex would always be this verbose and loud.
"I am not yelling! But I'll tell you what: I don't think that I'm in the mood anymore!"
"Fine!"
"Fine!"
* Silence. *
"So, do you want to try again?"
"Sure, why not," he answered.
#####
A reasonable time later:
Bulma rolled atop her husband and kissed his cheek. "So, you do know my name." She pecked his nose. "I love the way you pronounce it." She kissed his lips.
Vegeta snorted. "But you, BUL-ma, have yet to learn mine. It is Bejita, not Vegeta."
"Really, now? You've never corrected me before." She traced lazy circles on his chest with her finger.
"Maybe I should teach you to get it right."
"Maybe you should."
#####
A few name changes, spellings, and even misspellings later:
Vegeta propped himself on his elbow and gazed down at his sleeping Woman. He gently brushed aside a strand of hair. Putting on a t-shirt and draw- string pants, the Saiyan left the room. This was an occasion that required a case of the bubbly. Hopefully, the root beers were cold because he had worked up quite a thirst.
A large manila envelope addressed to a Mr. Vegeta and Ms. Bulma Briefs caught his eye. Vegeta picked up the opened envelope from the kitchen table and removed the papers. It was the annulment form. He scanned the contents and reached the last page. His wife's signature was noticeably absent. He frowned. Obviously, "obey" was not in her vocabulary.
The papers burned quickly and the ashes floated through his fingers.
"YEEHAW!" She tackled him from behind and almost knocked him off of his feet. "I don't like you either, Vegeta!" Bulma gave him a hard squeeze and a huge smooch on the cheek.
The Saiyan prince returned the affection and smiled over his wife's shoulders. She was right. He really did not like her. He loved her.
THE END.
%%%%%%
Taa daa!
Tying up loose ends:
Bulma sent Vegeta back to space because he spent too much time perfecting his skills with her instead of training for the androids. Also proud and boastful, she wanted her husband to be the most powerful Super Saiyan. While he was with his wife, Vegeta never turned Super Saiyan, so the others did not know about his transformation.
They kept it "V-E-G-E-T-A" because that was on the Moonie marriage certificate.
Yamcha returned to the desert to train when Vegeta left for space the first time; therefore, he had no idea when Bulma became pregnant. His displeasure at the reunion stemmed from the fact (my imagination, anyway) that Bulma, one of his closest friends, never told him about her pregnancy; he did almost wish that he had a son; and yet, how could Gohan mistake such an angry looking, cross-eyed child to be his?
Nappa did get his rice, tree, and pair of pants because technically, he did accomplish the mission. He and Radditz pestered Yemma for more assignments, but sadly, the ogre had none to give them.
*******
Thanks to all who stuck with the story! Many, many thanks to everyone who reviewed!
The asteroid shattered into smithereens. The blond warrior cackled ominously. He had business to finish.
####
The loud crash and resultant aftershocks sent Bulma tumbling from the couch. The television screen became static. "Darn it! Only five minutes left in the show and this had to happen!" Straightening her orange striped dress, she stomped outside to see the cause of the interruption.
Imbedded in the middle of her yard was the missing space pod. The door opened and a ramp slowly slid toward the ground. Before the ramp finished its descent, one impatient alien prince flew out of the opening and landed before the irate woman.
"Vegeta. I should have known. Only you have that sort of timing. I've been watching that show for weeks and you had to choose now to come home and make me miss the ending. And where have you been? You know that I was worried about you. And aren't you hot wearing that high-collared, long- sleeved outfit of yours. Where are your shorts? Oh, I forgot, space is cold. And --"
Ah, her voice was rose petals caressing his eardrums. Without a word, he grabbed her about the waist and tossed her over his shoulders.
"Yah! What are you doing to me?" Bulma pounded his back and tried to claw and pinch it. Unfortunately, the skin-tight outfit left no slack for grabbing.
He spanked her bottom. "Be quiet. You will soon learn your place, Woman." The Saiyan jogged into the house.
Bulma lifted her head and saw the direction in which he was bound. She smiled widely. "Are you taking me to the boudoir to make me a woman?"
"You are already a woman. I am just making you mine."
She giggled gleefully and clapped her hands in joy. It was about time!
######
Five minutes later:
He sat at the foot of the bed, steepling his fingers and tapping the two index together. She was at the head and hummed softly to herself. The clock ticked loudly.
"So," she began.
"So," he added.
"How was space?"
"Fine."
* Silence. *
"Did you become a Super Saiyan?"
"Yes."
"That's nice."
* Silence. *
"How did it happen? I mean the Super Saiyan."
Vegeta blushed. "I became angry."
"Oh."
* More silence. *
They resumed tapping and humming, humming and tapping, tapping and...
"Do something already!" she screamed. "You're the man, you should make the first move."
The Saiyan nearly fell off the bed from the force of her voice.
"Fine. If that is what you want." He threw her down and pressed his body on top of hers.
"About time. I've been waiting and wondering with you being so slow and mmph--"
He silenced her with a kiss. Bulma gave in willingly. The kisses deepened. The passion burned stronger. They kicked off their shoes and he removed his chestplate. She clawed at his clothes. He fumbled for her buttons, only to discover that there were no buttons. The old woman's novels had been misleading.
He gasped and whimpered as Bulma grabbed the waist of his outfit to lift the top over his head. He whimpered again when she became more aggressive and pulled and twisted the garment upwards. The feeling became too intense, and he trapped her hands in his to halt the action.
"Did you not realize that this is a one-piece?!" His voice cracked slightly.
Bulma grinned sheepishly. "Sorry."
Vegeta stood on the floor and readjusted himself, hoping that nothing was bruised. Pulling the collar out until it stretched over both shoulders, he proceeded to remove his arms from the sleeves one at a time.
Witnessing the unsexy disrobing, Bulma inwardly cringed and made a note to re-invent his Saiyan outfit into a two-piece. Only women should wear unitards.
Vegeta returned to bed, his bottom half still clothed. He wanted to give the Woman a bit of mystery, modesty having more than a little influence in his decision.
They commenced with the kissing. His hands trailed down her sides and caressed her thighs. She moaned encouragement. Pressing his hands against the hem of her knit dress, he slowly slid the garment upwards. They rose together, and Bulma lifted her arms above her head. She arched her back.
"Vegeta!" she cried. "Vegeta!" she cried again. "Stop! It's too tight!"
But the Saiyan was too deeply involved. He could not stop now and concentrated his efforts. She had wanted this, and he was going to finish it. His hands balled into fists with the exertion. He raised his arms to their full extent and his clenched hands moved vigorously from side to side. His Woman craned her neck and cried out again. But his arms were short, and the dress remained caught underneath her chin.
"Vegeta! Stop it!" Bulma pushed her husband away. The dress hung limply on her head like a shroud from a reject fashion show. Her hands, still caught in the sleeves, massaged her covered temples. "Now, kneel and gently pull the dress off," she instructed.
The stubborn garment easily slipped free. He would have to remember this technique the next time.
She scowled at him in disbelief. Vegeta's face remained blank. As Bulma lifted her hands to smooth her hair, Vegeta captured them in his and gently kissed each palm. She sighed and melted.
Interpreting her actions as favorable, the prince became bolder and moved to kiss her lips. The old woman's novels proved to have some useful tips after all.
He rose on his knees and hooked his fingers underneath the elastic.
"Just what do you think you're doing?" Her tone begged caution on his part.
"I am removing the rest of your clothes." The books had warned him of the female's insecurities with her first time. "Do not worry, I will be gentle," he quoted, choking down the bile. The language filth in those novels sometimes amazed him.
"Vegeta," Bulma slowed her breathing. "You do not pull this over my head! This bra has underwires! And hooks in the back! See!" She twisted and pointed at the closures so that even the Amish could see.
"Stop with the yelling!" The Saiyan pressed his fingers to his temples and wondered if sex would always be this verbose and loud.
"I am not yelling! But I'll tell you what: I don't think that I'm in the mood anymore!"
"Fine!"
"Fine!"
* Silence. *
"So, do you want to try again?"
"Sure, why not," he answered.
#####
A reasonable time later:
Bulma rolled atop her husband and kissed his cheek. "So, you do know my name." She pecked his nose. "I love the way you pronounce it." She kissed his lips.
Vegeta snorted. "But you, BUL-ma, have yet to learn mine. It is Bejita, not Vegeta."
"Really, now? You've never corrected me before." She traced lazy circles on his chest with her finger.
"Maybe I should teach you to get it right."
"Maybe you should."
#####
A few name changes, spellings, and even misspellings later:
Vegeta propped himself on his elbow and gazed down at his sleeping Woman. He gently brushed aside a strand of hair. Putting on a t-shirt and draw- string pants, the Saiyan left the room. This was an occasion that required a case of the bubbly. Hopefully, the root beers were cold because he had worked up quite a thirst.
A large manila envelope addressed to a Mr. Vegeta and Ms. Bulma Briefs caught his eye. Vegeta picked up the opened envelope from the kitchen table and removed the papers. It was the annulment form. He scanned the contents and reached the last page. His wife's signature was noticeably absent. He frowned. Obviously, "obey" was not in her vocabulary.
The papers burned quickly and the ashes floated through his fingers.
"YEEHAW!" She tackled him from behind and almost knocked him off of his feet. "I don't like you either, Vegeta!" Bulma gave him a hard squeeze and a huge smooch on the cheek.
The Saiyan prince returned the affection and smiled over his wife's shoulders. She was right. He really did not like her. He loved her.
THE END.
%%%%%%
Taa daa!
Tying up loose ends:
Bulma sent Vegeta back to space because he spent too much time perfecting his skills with her instead of training for the androids. Also proud and boastful, she wanted her husband to be the most powerful Super Saiyan. While he was with his wife, Vegeta never turned Super Saiyan, so the others did not know about his transformation.
They kept it "V-E-G-E-T-A" because that was on the Moonie marriage certificate.
Yamcha returned to the desert to train when Vegeta left for space the first time; therefore, he had no idea when Bulma became pregnant. His displeasure at the reunion stemmed from the fact (my imagination, anyway) that Bulma, one of his closest friends, never told him about her pregnancy; he did almost wish that he had a son; and yet, how could Gohan mistake such an angry looking, cross-eyed child to be his?
Nappa did get his rice, tree, and pair of pants because technically, he did accomplish the mission. He and Radditz pestered Yemma for more assignments, but sadly, the ogre had none to give them.
*******
Thanks to all who stuck with the story! Many, many thanks to everyone who reviewed!