Chapter 1: The Unspoken Heat
The sun blazed over Capsule Corp, casting a golden sheen on the sprawling tech empire Bulma Briefs had built with her genius. She stood in her lab, a tight tank top clinging to her curves, her denim shorts hugging her famously round, bubble butt. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she tinkered with a new invention, her mind preoccupied—not with circuits, but with the gnawing emptiness in her marriage to Vegeta. He was always off training, leaving her brilliant mind and fiery spirit untouched, unsatisfied.
Enter Oolong, the shapeshifting pig, waddling in with a sly grin plastered on his snout. He’d been crashing at Capsule Corp for weeks, his lecherous eyes lingering on Bulma’s every move. Today, he wore a tiny Hawaiian shirt, unbuttoned, as if he thought it made him irresistible. Bulma barely glanced up from her work.
‘Well, damn, Bulma, you’re hotter than a Saiyan’s energy blast in those shorts,’ Oolong drawled, leaning against a workbench, his voice dripping with sleaze. ‘When’s the last time Vegeta noticed that fat ass of yours?’
Bulma’s wrench clattered to the floor. She spun around, blue eyes flashing with irritation. ‘Watch your mouth, pig. I’m not some damsel waiting for compliments from a perv like you.’
Oolong chuckled, unfazed, stepping closer. ‘Oh, come on, babe. I see the way you strut around here, all pent-up. Vegeta’s too busy punching rocks to give you what you need. Bet you’re aching for someone to appreciate every inch of that body.’
Her cheeks flushed, but she squared her shoulders, refusing to back down. ‘You’ve got some nerve, Oolong. I could blast you into next week with one of my gadgets. Keep dreaming.’
‘Dreaming’s all I do, sugar,’ he shot back, his beady eyes glinting. ‘But I’m not blind. You’re lonely. And I’m right here, ready to worship that perfect ass, those big, gorgeous tits. Let me show you what a real thrill feels like.’
Bulma’s breath hitched, her resolve wavering for a split second. She hated to admit it, but his words struck a nerve. Months of neglect had left her body buzzing with unspoken need. Still, she crossed her arms, glaring. ‘You’re disgusting. I’m married, you idiot. Get lost.’
Oolong smirked, closing the distance until she could smell the faint musk of him. ‘Married, sure. But not satisfied. I can see it in those eyes, Bulma. You’re curious. Just one taste—let me prove I’m more than a pig.’
Her heart raced as he reached out, his stubby fingers brushing her hip. She slapped his hand away, but the contact sent a jolt through her. ‘Don’t touch me,’ she snapped, though her voice lacked its usual bite.
‘Fine, I’ll play nice… for now,’ Oolong purred, stepping back but not breaking eye contact. ‘But mark my words, genius girl. You’ll be begging for me soon. And when you do, I’ll have you sweating, panting, dripping wet for more.’
Bulma turned away, gripping the edge of the workbench, her knuckles white. She wouldn’t admit it, but his crude promises lingered in her mind, igniting a dangerous spark. The lab felt suddenly smaller, the air thick with tension. She heard Oolong’s low chuckle as he sauntered out, leaving her alone with her thoughts—and a growing, forbidden heat between her thighs.
Little did she know, this was only the beginning. The next time they’d cross paths, words wouldn’t be enough. She’d find herself pressed against a wall, his hands roaming, her resistance crumbling as raw, primal need took over.
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