The soft hum of Capsule Corp's advanced systems was usually a soothing lullaby to Bulma, a constant backdrop to her genius. But tonight, it felt different. It was a late, humid evening, the kind that made the air itself feel heavy with unspoken possibilities. She stood by the panoramic window of her private living quarters, overlooking the shimmering lights of West City, a half-empty glass of vintage wine clasped in her slender fingers. Her vibrant, cerulean **Blue Hair**, usually meticulously styled, was slightly tousled, having been run through by her own restless fingers countless times. She was dressed simply, in a silken robe that barely concealed the curves of her magnificent body, a silent testament to years of innovation and the occasional universe-saving adventure in the world of **Dragon Ball Super**.

A sigh escaped her lips, a sound laden with a longing she rarely acknowledged, even to herself. For all her scientific triumphs, her fierce independence, there were moments, deep in the quiet of the night, when she craved something primal, something utterly consuming. The intellectual stimulation of her work, the thrill of discovery, felt insufficient tonight. She yearned for a different kind of spark, a fire that burned through her veins, demanding a complete and utter surrender of control. Her partner, often stoic and distant, had been particularly intense in his glances all day, a silent current of electricity passing between them that had left her nerves tingling.

The subtle click of the door mechanism, a sound only she would notice, sent a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the air conditioning. He was here. She didn't turn immediately, letting the anticipation build, savoring the slow burn of desire that ignited within her. The air in the room seemed to thicken, charged with an unspoken tension that was almost palpable. She heard his footsteps, measured and deliberate, approaching her from behind. A warm, strong hand came to rest on her hip, sending a jolt through her system that made her knees weak. His fingers gently traced the line of her silk-clad hip, igniting a trail of goosebumps on her skin.

"Bulma," his voice was a low growl, rough with an emotion that mirrored her own. It sent tremors through her, vibrating deep in her core. He didn't need to say more; his touch, his presence, spoke volumes. She leaned back, letting her head rest against his shoulder, feeling the hard plane of his chest against her back. The scent of him—ozone, sweat, and something uniquely masculine—filled her senses, intoxicating and familiar. His other hand found her waist, drawing her closer until her back was flush against his front, the unmistakable hardness of him pressing against her buttocks through the thin silk of her robe.

Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat echoing the rising tide of lust within her. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to melt into his embrace. His lips brushed against her neck, a feather-light touch that promised so much more. He began to scatter soft kisses along the sensitive skin behind her ear, down the curve of her jaw, each one sending a jolt of pure pleasure through her. Her fingers, still clutching the wine glass, trembled, and she set it down on a nearby table with a soft clink. Her own hands found his, strong and calloused, and she laced her fingers through his, savoring the intimate connection.

He turned her gently in his arms, facing him, his eyes burning with an unmasked desire that mirrored the inferno in her own. Her **Blue Hair** framed her flushed face, her lips parted slightly in anticipation. He took her face in his hands, his thumbs stroking her cheekbones, his gaze intense, possessive, yet undeniably tender. "You're beautiful," he murmured, his voice husky, before his mouth descended upon hers. The kiss was deep, hungry, a desperate claiming that left no room for doubt about the passion simmering between them. Her lips parted eagerly, inviting his tongue to delve deeper, to explore every crevice of her mouth. Their tongues danced, a passionate tango, tasting of wine and raw desire.

Her hands moved from his to tangle in his hair, tugging gently, urging him closer still. Her body pressed against his, the thin silk of her robe the only barrier between them. He groaned into the kiss, his hands sliding down her back, expertly untying the sash of her robe. The silk fabric parted, revealing the smooth expanse of her skin beneath. His fingers traced the curve of her spine, sending shivers radiating outwards. The robe slipped from her shoulders, pooling at her feet, leaving her standing before him in nothing but her own exquisite form, her breasts heaving with each ragged breath.

His eyes devoured her, lingering on the full swell of her breasts, the tautness of her nipples, the gentle curve of her stomach, and the dark patch of hair at her core. A low growl rumbled in his chest, and he scooped her up into his arms effortlessly, carrying her towards the plush sofa by the window. She wrapped her legs around his waist, clinging to him as he lowered her onto the soft cushions. He knelt between her legs, his gaze never leaving hers, his hands tracing the inner curve of her thighs, sending a white-hot trail of sensation in their wake. Her legs instinctively parted wider, offering herself to him.

His fingers dipped lower, expertly finding her moist entrance, teasing at her sensitive clitoris through the soft curls. Bulma gasped, her hips arching off the sofa, a desperate plea for more. "Please," she whimpered, her voice thick with arousal. He leaned down, taking one of her engorged nipples into his mouth, suckling hard, eliciting another moan from her. His thumb continued its rhythmic dance against her clit, bringing her closer and closer to the precipice of release. Her body trembled, a symphony of sensations overwhelming her senses. He moved from her breast, his mouth trailing a path of fire down her stomach, towards the core of her desire.

His hot breath ghosted over her, and then his tongue, wet and warm, found her. Bulma cried out, her fingers tangling in her **Blue Hair**, pulling at the strands as he expertly devoured her. He licked and suckled, teasing her clitoris with the tip of his tongue, then circling it, then diving deep into her wet folds. Her hips bucked uncontrollably, a primal instinct taking over. The pleasure was exquisite, overwhelming, building with an intensity that threatened to shatter her. "Oh, god," she choked out, her body spasming as a wave of pure ecstasy washed over her. She gripped his head, urging him on, begging him to never stop.

He continued until her shudders subsided, leaving her breathless and wonderfully sensitive. He pulled away, his mouth slick and glistening, a small bead of her own essence clinging to his lips. He rose, shedding his own clothes with practiced ease, revealing his powerful, chiseled body, and the throbbing evidence of his desire. Bulma's eyes widened, her gaze fixed on him, her breath catching in her throat. He knelt between her legs once more, his powerful erection poised at her entrance, slick with her arousal. He leaned down, his lips brushing against hers, his eyes locking with hers.

"I want to feel you completely," he whispered, his voice raw. With a slow, deliberate push, he began to enter her. Bulma gasped, feeling him stretch her, fill her, take her completely. The initial pressure gave way to an incredible fullness, a deep, satisfying stretch that made her arch her back and cry out. He pushed deeper, slowly at first, allowing her body to accommodate his immense size. Then, with a grunt of pure satisfaction, he was fully buried inside her, their bodies melding into one perfect fit. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, locking him in place.

He began to move, a slow, deep rhythm that quickly intensified. Each thrust was powerful, deliberate, driving him deep into her welcoming warmth. Bulma met each thrust, her hips rising to meet his, a desperate rhythm of push and pull. Her moans filled the room, mingling with his own deep groans. His hands gripped her hips, lifting her slightly, allowing him to angle his thrusts perfectly, hitting her G-spot with every delicious plunge. "There! Yes, right there!" she panted, her voice breathless with pleasure, her **Blue Hair** fanned out against the sofa cushions as her head thrashed from side to side.

The sounds of their lovemaking echoed in the opulent room – the rhythmic slap of skin on skin, the wet sounds of their joined bodies, their ragged breaths, and her increasingly frantic cries. He pulled out almost entirely, then plunged back in with a force that made her cry out his name, her body convulsing around him. He leaned down, his lips finding hers once more, kissing her deeply as he continued his relentless pace. He was driving her to the brink, pushing her higher and higher. "I'm close," she whimpered, tears of pleasure welling in the corners of her eyes.

"Let go, my love," he whispered against her lips, his own voice strained with effort. He withdrew for a moment, making her whimper in protest, then pulled her hips forward, pushing himself in with one final, deep, grinding thrust. A primal scream tore from her throat as the orgasm hit her, a shattering wave of pure, unadulterated bliss that left her trembling violently. Her internal muscles clenched tightly around him, milking every last drop of pleasure. He groaned loudly, his own climax erupting moments later, a torrent of hot, thick **creampie** flooding deep inside her. He buried his face in her neck, panting, as he emptied himself into her, feeling the exquisite warmth spread through her core.

They lay intertwined for a long moment, the aftershocks of their shared climax still rippling through their bodies. Bulma felt utterly sated, filled to the brim, a delicious warmth spreading from her womb. She ran her fingers through his damp hair, kissing his shoulder gently. He eventually stirred, pulling out of her slowly, regretfully. She whimpered softly at the loss of his incredible fullness, but before she could fully lament, he was shifting, pulling her closer, his lips finding hers once more for a tender, lingering kiss.

But the night, for Bulma, was far from over. The first climax had only whetted her appetite, leaving her body humming with a renewed, insatiable desire. She looked at him, her eyes still clouded with passion, a playful glint dancing within them. He seemed to understand, a smirk playing on his lips as he returned her gaze. He leaned down, kissing her stomach, then trailed his lips lower, towards her now-slick, post-orgasmic pussy. "Still hungry?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble against her skin.

"Always for you," she breathed, arching her back as his tongue once again began its delicious assault. This time, he was more playful, teasing her with quick, darting licks, then sucking her clitoris into his mouth with a powerful vacuum. Bulma groaned, her body once again tightening, craving more. The memory of the **creampie** still fresh, her senses were heightened, exquisitely sensitive. He pulled away for a moment, his gaze meeting hers, a challenge in his eyes. Then, without warning, he dipped his fingers into the cum that had just flowed from her, still warm and glistening, and brought them to his mouth, tasting himself on her.

Bulma watched, fascinated and incredibly aroused by the raw masculinity of the act. He then leaned down again, kissing her deeply, transferring the taste of their combined passion onto her lips. It was primal, erotic, and utterly intoxicating. She tasted herself on him, the salty-sweet essence of their lovemaking. He then pulled away, looking at her, a mischievous glint in his eye. He was already hard again, throbbing with renewed vigor, standing tall and proud. "Open up for me, my genius," he commanded, his voice deep and authoritative.

Bulma, completely under his spell, parted her lips without hesitation, her eyes wide with a mix of anticipation and a hint of innocent curiosity. He knelt before her, his large cock now directly in front of her face. She reached out, her fingers gently wrapping around the base of it, feeling the incredible heat and hardness. Her tongue instinctively darted out, tracing the tip, taking in the pre-cum that glistened there, slick and salty. He groaned, tilting his head back slightly, his eyes closed as she ministered to him. She took more of him into her mouth, a little at a time, letting her lips and tongue work their magic.

He pulled away for a moment, and her eyes, filled with passion, questioned him. He chuckled, a deep, satisfied sound. "Not yet, my love. I have something special in mind for you." He stood back up, then pulled her to her feet. He turned her around, gently pushing her forward, until she was leaning against the cool glass of the window, her hands pressed against it for support. He stood behind her, his hard cock pressing against her bottom. He kissed her neck, whispering sweet, dirty promises in her ear, causing her to shiver with anticipation. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer, grinding his hips against hers.

"Turn around, Bulma," he commanded softly. She obeyed, her **Blue Hair** swaying as she faced him, her back now to the panoramic view of the city. He looked at her, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity that promised a truly explosive end to their night. He reached out, cupping her face in his hands, his thumbs caressing her cheeks. "Look at me," he instructed, his voice low and firm. She met his gaze, her breath catching in her throat, her heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and utter surrender.

He pulled her closer, his hips grinding against hers, building the tension to an almost unbearable crescendo. She could feel him throbbing, swollen and ready. Her body was a coil of exquisite tension, screaming for release. He leaned in, kissing her deeply, passionately, before pulling back just an inch. "I want to watch you take all of me," he whispered, his eyes locked on hers. Then, with a sudden, powerful thrust, he pulled out his cock and unleashed a torrent of hot, thick **cum directly onto her beautiful face**. Bulma gasped, her eyes widening as the warm, sticky liquid splattered across her cheeks, her forehead, even catching in her **Blue Hair**.

It was a shock, a sensation unlike anything she had ever experienced. The warmth, the sheer volume, the unexpectedness of it. Her breath hitched, and a small sound escaped her lips as more of his essence splattered onto her chin, running down her neck. Her eyes were still locked with his, a mixture of surprise, awe, and an overwhelming surge of erotic pleasure washing over her. He watched her intently, his chest heaving, his own body still trembling from the powerful release. The taste of him, salty and potent, was on her lips, her chin, coating her senses.

She slowly reached up, her fingers tentatively touching the sticky warmth on her cheek. A faint smile touched her lips, a deep blush coloring her skin beneath the creamy white. It was utterly humiliating, utterly messy, and utterly, exquisitely erotic. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the feeling, the smell, the profound intimacy of it all. When she opened them again, she looked at him, her gaze filled with an unadulterated passion, a complete and total surrender. He had pushed her boundaries, taken her to a new level of erotic ecstasy, and she adored him for it.

He watched her, a proud, satisfied smirk on his face. He then leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her cum-slicked forehead, his lips smearing some of it even further across her skin. "Beautiful," he murmured, his voice filled with tenderness and adoration. He then took her hand, pulling her gently towards the bathroom. As they stood under the warm spray of the shower, the water slowly rinsing the evidence of their passionate encounter from her face and hair, she leaned into him, her body soft and pliant against his. He held her close, tracing patterns on her wet skin, their earlier ferocity replaced by a gentle, loving intimacy.

Bulma closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of the water, the comfort of his embrace. The scent of him, the lingering taste of him, the memory of his powerful release inside her, and the incredible, shocking **facial** still vibrant in her mind. She felt utterly cherished, deeply loved, and completely, sensually fulfilled. The hum of Capsule Corp systems now truly felt like a lullaby, a backdrop to the quiet contentment of their shared, passionate night. She knew, with a certainty that settled deep in her soul, that there was no greater adventure, no greater thrill, than the one they shared in the depths of their undeniable, scorching desire.