Picture Perfect
By: Kaialicious

Disclaimer: I do not, nor have I ever owned DragonBall Z or the characters of
DragonBall Z. I do not make any profit from the aforementioned Japanese
animation and therefore should not and would not want to be sued for any reason.
Warning: This tale contains obscene language, and an extreme amount of LEMON. It
is NOT intended for under aged readers.
Author’s Note: This story came to me one afternoon out of nowhere. I was so
fascinated by it that I immediately went to work on it. It was quite convenient
having research material around to help me envision what I wanted the characters
to do. It just goes to show you, ancient history can be captivating.
Our Japanese Words for Today are (and I could be wrong):
*Arigatou- Thank you
*Bakamono- Stupid thing
*Hai- Yes
*Hanash’te- Tell me
*Iie- No
*Onna- Woman

                                                            *****
The Saiyan slid down the wall in exhaustion and wiped the sweat from his brow.
He had been training for eight hours straight. To his disgust, his body had been
unable to go on for another hour. Vegeta made a mental note to correct the
problem in the future.
His stomach growled. He had not taken a break from training even to have an
afternoon meal. What bothered him the most was that the woman, Bulma, had not
done her usual task of interrupting him. She would do this at noon so that he
could know when it was time for lunch. Vegeta reasoned that perhaps she had
grown tired of exchanging angry words with him.
“Weakling,” Vegeta grumbled. He had thought that a woman like her would have
been able to handle his surliness, but she turned out to be a disappointment.
She was not worthy of his presence. Humph! He hoped that she would keep out of
his sight.
A small sound caught his attention. He looked towards the door of the gravity
chamber and spotted something on the floor. He got up and picked up the object.
It appeared to be a picture. Someone had slid it under the door. Vegeta looked
at the image. The woman, Bulma, was dressed in a thick white robe. She was
smiling, her eyes filled with mischief.
Vegeta opened the door of the gravity chamber and stepped outside. No one was
there, but down the hall laid another picture.
Vegeta’s curiosity overcame him. He walked down the hall and retrieved the
photo. The image that greeted him caused him to raise an eyebrow. The woman was
untying her robe and winking at him.
“Bakamono,” he muttered, and was about to drop the photos when he spied another
near the stairs. Vegeta irritably stalked towards the object. The game of hers
was seriously beginning to annoy him. He would have to put a stop to her
foolishness at once.
His jaw dropped as he beheld the next image. His grip tightened on the photo.
Sweat dropped from his forehead. The woman had opened her robe, revealing that
she was wearing some type of mock Saiyan armor –a bastardized version to be
sure.
The blue leotard that clung to her shapely body looked more like a pair of
female underwear. Moreover, the armor was designed to fit scantily over her
breasts, leaving her shoulders and midriff bare. No sane Saiyan woman would have
ever worn such a uniform.
A drop of Vegeta’s perspiration fell on to the photograph. He cleared his throat
and looked up the stairs. Another photo. He did not hesitate to get it.
In this one, Bulma had cleverly turned away from the camera, showing her back.
She had her hands at her nape, her spine arched, her hips thrust towards the
direction of the camera. The leotard did not even cover up the creamy globes of
her bottom. A thin strip of it in fact nestled between the tight cheeks.
Vegeta exhaled sharply, and then eagerly searched the stairs for another photo.
A grin broke out on his face when he found one.
“Great Super Saiyan!” he exclaimed.
The woman was on the bed, bowls of food surrounding her young, beautiful body.
It was an invitation that Vegeta could not ignore.
He hurried to Bulma’s bedroom, his blood racing through his veins. The woman
knew how to recharge a male’s energy.
“What took you so long?” she asked him as he entered the room.
“Something…came up,” he answered her wryly.
She darted a glance at the object that he had referred to and bit her lip.
Vegeta took in the visual stimulation that she had unwittingly created.
“I thought that you would be hungry,” she said, explaining the purpose of the
various dishes that sat on the silken sheets.
Vegeta noticed that they were his favorite foods –the ones that he had never
hesitated to insult whenever she prepared them for him.
“I see that they are as poorly cooked as they always are,” he taunted.
“Just the way you like it,” she replied, the corners of her mouth lifting into a
smile.
She knew that he was teasing her. That was good. Too often, he would think that
perhaps he had been too hard on her. But then she would bounce back with an
insult that would make a Saiyan cringe in humiliation.
Vegeta sauntered towards the pleasure-laden bed and inspected Bulma’s outfit.
“Do you like it?” she asked him coyly.
“Hmm,” he said.
She giggled.
Vegeta’s eyes bored into hers.
“Eat Vegeta. I’ll still be here,” she told him.
“Hmm,” he repeated and just stared at her.
“Hmm,” Bulma said and picked up an egg roll. She was about to take a bite when
he snatched it out of her hand and took it for himself. He sat down on the edge
of the bed and ate his extensive meal.
Bulma sighed and grabbed a book from the nightstand. Half an hour later, Vegeta
finished eating and placed the last emptied bowl on the floor. He turned to
Bulma and was surprised to find her engrossed in a book.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” she snapped, her face turning red.
Vegeta suspected that she was feeling guilty. What was it that she had to be
guilty about?
The answer was right in her hands. He grabbed the book from her. His eyes
widened as he took in the lurid pictures that graced the pages.
“What is this?”
Bulma sat up and said, “The Kama Sutra.”
Vegeta flipped through the book, fascinated by the display of couples engaged in
incredible intimate acts of pleasure. As he examined the ancient images, one
thought rang through his mind: How will it be like to practice such feats with
Bulma?
He was growing hard just imagining it. Bulma noticed his condition and
tentatively slid her toes over his thigh. Vegeta tensed and abruptly stood,
startling her.
“What’s wrong?” she questioned.
“Nothing,” he replied. “I have to take a shower.”
He could hear Bulma’s dejected cry as he left the room. She would think him cold
for leaving her when she wanted sexual stimulation. In truth, Vegeta had not
wanted to leave her side, but the labors of the day had left a distinct odor on
him.
He was a prince, and he enjoyed having regular baths –unlike most other Saiyans.
Kakarott, however, was one exception. The clown thankfully appeared to have an
affinity for cleanliness as well.
Vegeta spent at least twenty minutes cleansing him self beneath the warm spray
of water. His idling was done intentionally, for his and the woman’s benefit. He
needed time to relax his muscles and build up his energy for the task that lay
ahead.
When he returned to her room with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist,
he found that she was gone. The empty bowls and chopsticks were gone too. The
Kama Sutra was still where he had left it, at the foot of the bed.
He went downstairs and found her in the kitchen, washing the dishes.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he told her. “This is not the time for that,
woman.”
“What are you talking about?” she muttered drolly. “I’ve got nothing else to do,
so it’s the perfect time to –Hey!”
Vegeta had picked her up and thrown her over his shoulder. He carried her up the
stairs and to her room.
“Vegeta put me down!”
“Very well…” he tossed her down on the bed and removed the towel from his waist.
His arousal stood at attention, and even caught her particular attention.
“Oh,” she simply said and feigned indifference.
Vegeta smirked and climbed on to the bed. He reached for the book, opened it,
and slid the book beside her. Bulma hesitantly stared at the pages and shivered.
“We will start with this,” Vegeta instructed, indicating with a slender finger
the pictures on the left, “and work our way to this.” He moved his finger to the
opposite page.
Bulma swallowed hard past the invisible lump in her throat and asked, “Really?”
Vegeta ignored her shaky question and sought out her lips. His kiss was tender
and lulling. A sweet opening to what would be an erotic afternoon of discovery.
Vegeta caressed the soft bare length of her thigh. He pulled a little bit away
from her and watched his hand explore her satiny skin. He lowered his head and
nipped at the luminescent flesh. Bulma shuddered at the feel of his teeth.
His other hand worked to free Bulma’s breasts of her armor. A difficult task
since he did not know how to remove it from her body. After mere seconds, his
ire rose and he glared at the stubborn thing.
“You will remove this ridiculous armor at once,” he testily ordered her.
Bulma fought back a giggle at his impatience and undid the clasps that held the
armor firmly in place. Vegeta wrenched the armor from her and flung it over his
shoulder. It hit the wall.
The sight of her breasts, freed from her armor prison drew a groan from him. She
was beautiful. He felt obligated to tell her.
“You are not as ugly as I thought you would be.”
“Um, thank you…I guess,” she replied. “That was a compliment, right?”
“Hmm.”
“Kind of like how you compliment my cooking,” she noticed.
“Hmm.”
At his reply, she grinned and told him, “and you’re not as repulsive as I
thought you would be.”
“Baka,” he whispered and supped at the plump, ripe, pink nipple.
Bulma sharply sucked in her breath. His tongue swirled around the turgid tip,
teasing it into a peak. Bulma buried her fingers in his dark crown of hair. She
pulled him closer to her pulsing nipple and gasped when he gently bit the
swollen morsel. He teased her this way for several minutes, making the bud so
tight that his tongue could no longer roll it around. When this had been
accomplished, he sought out her other breast. By this time, Bulma was clawing at
his shoulders and back, helpless as he supped at her.
A ragged cry from her made him lift his head. The woman’s face was flushed, her
eyes glazed over with heat. Vegeta kissed her again, laving her lower lip with
his tongue.
He eased the lower half of his body off hers and drew his hand over the flat
expanse of her stomach. The muscles there jumped at his touch. He slid his hand
lower, over her cloth-covered mound and down to the hot, feminine core of her.
The small band of cloth there was soaked with moisture. Vegeta could feel the
dew transferring from the cloth to his fingertips.
Bulma, aware of the evidence of her arousal, gasped in embarrassment and tried
to close her legs. Vegeta would not allow her to do so. He kept his hand in
place, cupping her. Bulma closed her eyes tight and blushed.
Vegeta laughed at her action. “It is too late to be shy.”
“I’m not,” she lied.
“Well then, you will not mind if I take a closer look.” He clenched the wet
material in his hand and tore it free, exposing her desire-swollen womanhood.
Bulma gasped in shock and turned pink all over.
Vegeta was certainly an aggressive lover. Already he was avidly examining her
soft folds. Bulma wished that the ground would just open up and swallow her
whole.
“Vegeta,” she said uneasily.
“Do not move. I want to look at you.”
His words mortified her. “W-Wait,” she stuttered and sat up. “That’s not
necessary.”
“Are you telling me what I can and cannot do?” he raised an eyebrow.
“N-No,” Bulma told him hastily.
“Hmm.” He sounded uncertain about her response, but he continued to examine her.
Bulma simply could not take his torturous touches anymore. She squirmed and
balled up her fists. Her essence saturated the silken sheets beneath her. She
was overflowing with the juices.
“Please,” she pleaded. “I can’t take it anymore.”
“Soon,” he told her. He wanted her good and wet before he took her. She was much
too small for him. No matter how well lubricated she was, his entry would still
hurt her. He was aware that she did not understand his interest in stroking her
sensitive flesh. He did it for her sake, to make their coupling as painless as
possible.
He touched the hidden hillock just beneath her mound and watched as she tensed.
A fresh supply of nectar accumulated on the sheets. Bulma fell back on to the
pillows. Her dewy opening convulsed. The wetness increased.
Bulma took short, quick breaths. She could no longer hold back. She sent her
fingers down to caress her hot core. Vegeta allowed her the privilege. She
thrust her fingers inside and lustily stared at Vegeta.
Vegeta licked along Bulma’s hand, from her slender wrist, to her moisture
covered knuckles.
Her scent filled her nostrils. It permeated the very air in the room. She closed
her eyes and concentrated on the sensations between her legs.
Vegeta, however, had other plans. He brushed her hand away. Bulma’s eyes shot
open in confusion.
Vegeta knelt between her legs. He lifted them straight up and pushed them
forward until Bulma was almost doubled. Her spine was bent at such an angle that
her thighs were pressed against her breasts. Her knees were bent also, her feet
having been placed on Vegeta’s taut stomach. Her bottom was extremely high, the
brace of Vegeta’s thighs making it possible. Bulma placed her hands along her
legs and shuddered in pent up heat.
Vegeta had begun to perform The Position of the Wife of Indra.
The position was named after the wife of the Hindu god of rain and thunder. This
arrangement allowed the full opening of a woman’s center, enabling maximum
penetration. But in order to benefit from the pose, the female had to be
extremely lithe.
Vegeta caressed her ankles and the sides of her calves before he placed his
hands firmly on her thighs. He leaned forward and touched the head of his shaft
to her open sheath.
“Do it,” she urged him.
“Are you giving me orders now?” he asked her gruffly.
Bulma felt his girth and whimpered. “Damn it, do it, hurry!”
“Iie.”
“What do you mean no?” she glared up at him.
Vegeta laughed at her look of outrage. If it were not for his own needs, he
would have continued to tease her.
He entered her by leaning his weight forward. The movement pushed on Bulma’s
legs, causing her thighs to rub her sensitive nipples. His member slid easily
inside of her warmth.
They both released a sigh of contentment.
“Arigatou,” Bulma said blissfully.
Vegeta hid a smile and said, “I have hardly done anything yet.”
“Yes, but,” she gulped. “You have no idea how this feels.”
Vegeta wanted to argue that he did know how it felt, but he opted to have her
enlighten him about her experience.
“Tell me how it feels.” He began moving within her.
Bulma shuddered at his long strokes.
“Hanash’te,” he demanded.
Bulma tried focusing on him rather than the sensations that drifted through her
being.
“It…feels…ooohh…” her cheeks reddened.
Vegeta deliberately imbedded himself deeply within her and circled his hips,
churning inside of her.
“I’m waiting, onna.”
Her bright blue eyes were blurred with passion.
“You bastard…” she charged.
He viciously pulled free, leaving just the tip of his cock wedged in her core.
“What was that?”
Her position made it damn near impossible to squirm. She needed relief, fast,
and only he could give it to her.
“It feels like you’re touching every little place inside of me,” she blurted out
in desperation.
He eased his shaft in a bit. “Go on.”
She exhaled sharply and used her vaginal muscles, lovingly caressing his thick
staff. Her effort made the Saiyan give her a quick stab. His cock glided through
her like a knife through butter.
“Oh, yes…”
“Yes?” he mocked her.
“Yes, yes!”
His cock hovered again right at her entrance. Nestled between her swollen nether
lips, she could feel how rigid he was. His pulse there was strong and it made
her excessively wet. If only he would do to her what he was supposed to…
“You’re a stubborn female,” he told her.
“If anyone is stubborn,” she replied, “it is you.”
“What’s that?” Vegeta shoved hard against her. He slid all the way in, right to
her womb.
“Ooooooohhhhh!”
“Did you enjoy that?” he arrogantly asked her. “I liked it as well.”
Bulma’s juices were seeping from her stuffed core. They soaked the tight blue
curls that covered her feminine mound, and drenched Vegeta’s groin and thighs.
She felt as if she was going to burst.
“You’re…taking…too much…pleasure…in this,” she told him between pants.
“That is because you are at my mercy. When I say jump…” he flexed his cock
inside of her, “…you say how high.”
“Aaah! Aaah!” The room was enveloped with her tortured cries.
Vegeta laughed at her. She bit her lip to silence her keening.
Vegeta was relentless. He beat a tattoo of throbbing heat straight into her
center. She closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to fight his stimulating
assault. Each stroke went deeper than it had ever went before, tearing muted
cries from her.
His thrusts were driving her insane.
Her nipples felt like two satiny drops of pink warmth that were being abraded by
the consistent pressure of her thighs. The double stimulation of her breasts and
her womanhood made her come long and hard.
“Ooooooohhhhh!”
Vegeta pounded through her clasping, quivering sheath, increasing the severity
of her orgasm.
“Aaagh! Ooohh!” Bulma thought that she would pass out. “Oh, Kame!”
It was then that Vegeta decided that a position change was in order. He pulled
at her ankles, placing her feet on his chest. The feel of her vagina altered. He
could no longer make deep, rough strokes. The position had shortened the depth
of her vagina, and had made it considerably tight.
Vegeta muttered an obscenity and held on to her legs as he commenced The Pressed
Position.
Bulma still shook. She dug her nails into his thighs and yelped as a weaker, yet
substantially potent orgasm seized her.
“Aaah! Aaah!” Her toes pressed into his flesh.
His gentle rocking made his shaft scrape along the delicate walls of her
interior. She convulsed around him and for a moment, held him in a vise-like
grip. Vegeta groaned.
“Ah, onna. Too tight,” he told her and released a sigh when she relinquished her
clutch.
It seemed that the little human possessed some strength after all.
“V-Vegeta…” she sobbed her eyes moist with tears. “It’s…so…good!”
“Hai,” he agreed, “it is.”
“Oh, Kame,” she kept repeating, at a loss for words.
Vegeta chuckled at her show of emotion and stared deeply into her eyes. She was
a beautiful creature; once one looked past, her tendencies to yell and cry like
some useless female. He realized that he liked those things about her. They were
what made her special. Vegeta would not want her any other way.
“Raise your legs, onna,” he instructed her and sat back on his heels.
Dazedly, she complied with his wishes. Her ankles were now on his shoulders.
Bulma recognized the arrangement as The Rising Position. She squeezed her thighs
together and moaned at the friction it created.
Vegeta kissed her calf. “You’re handling this very well, onna. I am impressed by
your stamina.”
“Mmmm,” she smiled.
“Hmm,” he said in return and lifted off his heels, then lowered himself back
down again.
Bulma tensed. Her breasts bounced with each thrust. She touched the aching tips,
tugged and pinched them. The spectacle made Vegeta struggle for breath. Bulma
was truly a passionate woman. She showed no shame as she manipulated her
nipples, staring guilelessly up at Vegeta. Her eyes were clouded with desire.
She fingered the taut peaks so roughly that the swollen pink nubs turned red.
Vegeta rose and sat, rose and sat, keeping up a steady momentum. His cock slid
through Bulma’s clenched portal with ease. Her muscles gently pulled at him,
massaging his rigid member. Her wetness soaked him. The scent made his groin
constrict, his cock twitch.
“Ooohh!” Bulma’s fingers fell from her bruised breasts. She bit into her knuckle
to stifle a scream. Her back arched.
Vegeta watched her sleek figure buck and writhe as she climaxed. Her contracting
channel sucked at his shaft, trying to milk it of its seed. Vegeta fought the
rippling glove.
Bulma whimpered and clutched at the sheets. “Vegeta! Oh, yes! Yeeeeesssssss!”
Her head thrashed about. She was crying in earnest now.
Vegeta put her legs down still plunging inside of her. He lay against her soft,
feminine body, his chest cushioned comfortably by her breasts. Her hands were
instantly buried in his hair. Her legs wrapped around his waist.
“Vegeta!” The pleading in her voice was unmistakable.
He gave her what she desired. He plowed into her, letting go of his restraint.
Nevertheless, he still held back just for her. She was a human and humans were
known to break easily. He did not want to hurt her.
She was so soft and supple. He let those thoughts float in his mind’s eyes as he
took her. A great rush of heat built inside of his loins and extended itself
throughout his entire body. Blood rushed to his ears. Perspiration dotted his
skin and made his flesh slick and musky. Bulma’s form was coated with a light
sheen as well. She glowed prettily with it.
Vegeta kissed her mouth and jaw. He trailed kisses down her throat and between
the valley of her ample breasts.
“Oh, Vegeta!”
The heat could no longer wait. It burst from his shaft like an angry flood and
emptied itself into Bulma’s womb. Vegeta moaned, and circled his hips, reluctant
to leave her, even for a second. His scorching release prompted another one of
her orgasms. She clung to him for dear life.
They both convulsed. Their sweat soaked bodies intertwined into one. Their
ragged breaths and cries ripped through the air. Before the last tremor left his
body, Vegeta bit into the soft curve of Bulma’s breast. She gasped and shuddered
as he bit her again, on her neck.
Love bites, she thought and gave him one on the thick ridge of muscle on his
neck. She felt him stiffen and she lightly ran her fingers down his spine. He
loosened up and leaned his full weight against her, pressing her into the
mattress.
They remained like this in silence for a while, enjoying the afterglow of their
lovemaking. Bulma languidly touched him, combing her fingers through his hair,
kneading his back, rubbing her feet against the back of his calves.
After a time, she asked him, “What are you thinking?”
Vegeta smiled against her neck and said, “That this is the longest meal that I
have ever had.”
“Vegeta!”
“Because of my gluttonous behavior, I will have to work twice as hard tomorrow,”
he told her.
Bulma sighed in disappointment. He meant to lock himself up in the gravity
chamber and train. She would spend the day alone with her inventions –and get
nothing done because she would be too busy thinking of him.
“You don’t understand, do you, onna?” he slipped his fingers into her bright
blue hair. “I meant that I will have to work twice as hard to please you.”
She beamed at him. Her eyes shined with love.
Vegeta was astonished by her display of affection.
“None of that,” he chided her and rolled on to his back, taking her along with
him.
She kissed his arrogant chin and said, “I wonder what I should wear tomorrow?”
Vegeta went completely still.
“Vegeta? Do Saiyan women wear leather?”
Vegeta groaned at the image that her question had created. Bulma in leather –he
would sell his very soul to see that.
“Are you going to take pictures?” he heard himself ask.
“Only if you want me to.”
“Hmm.”
She giggled and whispered, “I think that there’s a video camera in my capsule
case. We could use that if you prefer. Then we could watch ourselves over and
over-”
Vegeta silenced her the only way that he knew how, by kissing her. She was
driving him mad with her ideas.
His arm brushed against something hard. It was the Kama Sutra. He reached for it
and balanced it on his chest.
“What else should we try tomorrow?” he asked, a dark brow lifting in inquiry.
Bulma blushed as he candidly turned the pages. Her eyes widened when he stopped
at a particular page and ran his finger over the image.
“Woman on top positions…” he read. “The Top and the Swing. Hmm.”
“Vegeta,” she bashfully buried her face in his shoulder.
“I expect you to study them well, onna. I want your talents to be picture
perfect. Surprise me and I will be very generous,” he said.
She shyly nodded and spared a glance at the hardcover book. Who would have
thought that it would have made such an impression on the Saiyan prince?
“Onna,” Vegeta interrupted her thoughts. “Make sure that you wear these jewels.”
He pointed at the long strands of pearls that adorned the female’s neck, wrists,
and ankles.
Bulma playfully bit his shoulder and said, “Whatever you want, Vegeta.”
“Yes,” he smirked, “whatever I want.”
Bulma laughed and pushed the book off his chest and then on to the floor. “I
think that I’ve created a monster.”
Vegeta tried to retrieve the book, but Bulma shoved him back down and pulled the
bed covers over both of them. “Maybe I should have bought a book on tantric sex
instead.”
“Tantric sex? Is this something that will amuse me as well?”
“Yeah, I’ve definitely created a monster.” Bulma snuggled up next to him and
closed her eyes.
“Woman, wake up! I demand to know more about this tantric sex!”
He growled in irritation when he realized that she had fallen asleep.
“Humph, humans!”
 

                                                         The End
 

I know that the ending is somewhat…blah, but hey, by the time I was ready for
the conclusion, I’d lost the mood. That happens when you don’t write for a few
days. Anyway, tell me what you think. Also, I must endorse my other stuff, so
check out my other stories. There are more stories to come, so look out for
them! ^_^