The hum of Capsule Corp’s advanced technology was a familiar lullaby to Bulma, a constant backdrop to her life of innovation and adventure. Tonight, however, it felt different. It was a quieter hum, a gentle thrum against the backdrop of a star-dusted sky, amplifying the thrumming in her own chest. Goku had arrived unexpectedly, as he often did, a whirlwind of Saiyan energy that usually disrupted her carefully ordered world. But this time, he’d stayed. He’d joined her for a late dinner, sharing stories of his latest training exploits, his eyes alight with that pure, unadulterated joy that was so uniquely Goku. Now, the dinner plates were cleared, and a comfortable, almost charged silence had settled between them in her private lounge, the city lights twinkling below like scattered jewels.

Bulma watched him, curled on the plush sofa, a half-smile playing on her lips. He was sprawled out, surprisingly relaxed, though the latent power within him was always a palpable presence. He still wore his worn training clothes, his vibrant orange gi top discarded somewhere, leaving him in just a simple dark blue undershirt and a pair of faded grey gym shorts. The fabric, stretched taut across his powerful thighs and glutes, did little to conceal the sculpted definition of his body. Sweat had dried, leaving a faint, earthy scent that, to her surprise, she found intoxicatingly masculine. Her gaze lingered on his broad shoulders, the impressive swell of his biceps, and then, inevitably, drifted lower, to the undeniable bulge beneath the thin fabric of his shorts. A blush crept up her neck, despite herself. She, Bulma Briefs, brilliant scientist, mother, and woman of the world, was openly ogling her best friend’s husband, a man whose innocence often bordered on naivety. But tonight, that innocence felt less like a barrier and more like an open invitation.

“You’ve been training hard, haven’t you, Goku?” she murmured, her voice softer than intended, a little husky. She reached out, almost unconsciously, to brush a stray piece of hair from his forehead, her fingers lingering for a moment against his warm skin. His eyes, dark and deep, met hers, a flicker of something she couldn't quite decipher passing through them. It wasn't just hunger for food, or excitement for a fight. It was... newer. Deeper.

“Yeah,” he rumbled, his voice a low thrum that sent a shiver down her spine. “Got stronger. Frieza’s always out there, you know? Gotta be ready.” He grinned, that familiar, disarming grin, but his gaze didn’t leave hers. It felt like an anchor, pulling her closer, even though they hadn't moved an inch. He shifted, stretching, and the movement pulled the gym shorts even tighter, showcasing the powerful curve of his glutes, the thick column of his thigh muscles. Bulma swallowed hard. Her own body was responding, a familiar warmth beginning to spread low in her belly.

“Always thinking of fighting,” she teased, though her tone lacked its usual sharpness. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her blue eyes scanning him, taking in every detail of the man who had been a constant, bewildering, and utterly essential presence in her life for decades. "Don't you ever think of anything else?"

Goku tilted his head, a thoughtful expression on his face that was surprisingly endearing. “Sure. Food. My family. My friends.” His gaze swept over her again, more slowly this time, lingering on her lips, her neck, the swell of her chest beneath her silk blouse. “You, Bulma.” His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, and it hit her with the force of a ki blast. Her breath hitched. This was new. This was utterly, wonderfully new.

The air crackled between them, thick with unspoken desire. Bulma felt a bold confidence surge within her, mingled with a tremor of pure excitement. All the years of teasing, of playful arguments, of a deep, unshakeable friendship, suddenly coalesced into something far more potent. She slowly rose from her chair, her movements fluid and deliberate, and walked towards him. The only sound was the soft rustle of her blouse, the gentle patter of her bare feet on the plush carpet. Goku watched her approach, his expression unreadable, but his body had tensed, a primal awareness in his eyes.

She stopped just in front of him, close enough to feel the radiating heat from his body, the subtle scent of sweat and Saiyan. Her hand, trembling slightly, reached out, not to his hair this time, but to the front of his gym shorts. Her fingers brushed against the fabric, then found the hard, undeniable ridge beneath. Goku inhaled sharply, a low growl rumbling in his chest. His eyes widened, a flicker of raw desire finally igniting within their depths. “Bulma?” he whispered, his voice rough.

“Shhh, Goku,” she breathed, her own voice thick with emotion. Her fingers traced the outline, feeling the incredible heat, the impressive length. He was fully, gloriously hard, pressing against the thin cotton. Her thumb grazed the head of his shaft, eliciting another sharp gasp from him. She knelt before him, a mischievous, determined glint in her eyes. Her fingers deftly found the waistband of his shorts, tugging at the elastic. Goku’s hands came up, not to stop her, but to brace himself on the sofa, his knuckles white. The grey gym shorts slid down his powerful thighs with a soft rustle, pooling around his ankles, revealing the full, magnificent extent of his erection. It sprang free, thick and throbbing, perfectly engorged, its head glistening with pre-cum.

Bulma’s breath caught in her throat. She had seen naked men before, of course, but Goku… he was a force of nature, and his cock was no exception. It was a testament to his power, his vitality, a beautifully intimidating shaft of muscle and blood. She reached out, her fingers closing around its base, stroking slowly up its length. Goku’s hips bucked instinctively, a groan escaping his lips. “Bulma…”

She leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the tip, tasting him, a surprisingly clean, musky flavor that sent shivers of pleasure through her. Her tongue flicked out, tracing the sensitive corona, eliciting a guttural moan from him. She took him slowly, carefully, into her mouth, feeling the incredible width and length as her lips stretched around him. Goku’s head fell back against the sofa cushions, his fingers tangling in her hair, not pulling, but holding her close as she began to suckle him. She worked him with practiced ease, her tongue swirling around the head, teasing the frenulum, then drawing back to take more of him into her throat. He was so big, so wonderfully thick, filling her mouth completely. The sounds she made were muffled by him, a series of hungry, eager slurps and moans that thrilled him to his core.

Goku’s hands slid from her hair to her shoulders, then down her back, pressing her closer, deeper. His hips began to thrust, a slow, powerful rhythm that she met with equal enthusiasm, taking him deeper, allowing him to push against the back of her throat. Her cheeks ached, her jaw grew tired, but the exquisite pleasure of having him so utterly dependent on her, of feeling his primal pleasure, fueled her. She heard his ragged breathing, his low, desperate pleas, and a powerful surge of female dominance washed over her. She knew she had him, completely and utterly.

After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only minutes, she pulled back, a thin strand of saliva connecting them. Goku was panting, his erection even more engorged, pulsing with life. His eyes were glazed over, filled with a raw, primal lust that made Bulma’s own core clench in anticipation. “Bulma,” he gasped, tugging her gently upwards until she was sitting on his lap, straddling his thighs. The sensation of his bare skin against hers, even through the thin fabric of her blouse and underwear, was electric.

Her hands found their way to his chest, tracing the contours of his pectorals, feeling the powerful beat of his heart. She leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips, tasting herself on him. “You liked that, didn’t you, Saiyan?” she whispered, her voice teasing, triumphant. She felt him shift beneath her, his erection nudging insistently against her. “But we’re just getting started.”

She slid off his lap, standing before him again, her eyes never leaving his. With slow, deliberate movements, she began to undress, her fingers unbuttoning her silk blouse, letting it fall open to reveal the delicate lace of her bra. Goku watched, mesmerized, his gaze following every movement. Her hands went to the clasp of her bra, releasing it, and it too fell away, revealing her full, proud breasts, their nipples already hard and erect. She shed her skirt next, then her delicate panties, until she stood before him completely naked, bathed in the soft glow of the lounge lights. Her body was a symphony of curves, her waist tapering to the lush swell of her hips, her thighs strong and shapely. And then there was her ass, her truly spectacular, big ass, curving out proudly, a testament to her voluptuous femininity. Goku’s eyes devoured her, a low growl rumbling in his chest, a clear sign of his admiration and desire.

“Come here, my Saiyan,” she purred, holding out a hand. Goku pushed himself off the sofa, his powerful body moving with a surprising grace. He stood before her, just as naked, just as ready, a picture of primal masculinity. She reached for him, her hands sweeping over his chest, his arms, his firm stomach, marveling at the sheer power and heat of him. He reciprocated, his large hands settling on her hips, pulling her flush against him. She gasped as his hard shaft pressed against her aching core, the sensation sending a jolt of pure pleasure through her. They kissed then, a deep, hungry kiss that devoured any lingering inhibitions, their tongues dancing, tasting, seeking. His hands moved from her hips, tracing the curve of her back, cupping her generously proportioned, big ass, lifting her slightly, pressing her more firmly against his erection. Her fingers tangled in his spiky hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss, deepening the connection.

“I want you, Goku,” she whispered against his lips, her voice raw with need. “I want all of you.”

He lifted her into his arms effortlessly, carrying her towards her bedroom. The room was bathed in soft, indirect lighting, a sanctuary of comfort and intimacy. He gently laid her on the silken sheets, his eyes never leaving hers, that burning intensity still present. He followed her down, hovering over her, his weight supported by his strong arms, his gaze worshipping her body. He leaned down, pressing soft kisses along her neck, her collarbone, lingering on the sensitive skin just below her ear. Bulma arched into him, her fingers digging into his broad shoulders, a soft moan escaping her lips. His lips descended to her breasts, suckling first one, then the other, teasing her nipples with his tongue and teeth, making her gasp and writhe beneath him.

His hands, powerful yet surprisingly gentle, explored every inch of her, from the curve of her spine to the soft swell of her inner thighs. He paid particular attention to her big ass, his fingers kneading the firm flesh, making her hips writhe in pleasure. As he moved lower, his fingers traced the delicate folds of her pussy, already slick and aching for him. He slipped a finger inside, then two, slowly stretching her, preparing her. Bulma cried out, her hips bucking, urging him on. “Please, Goku, please!”

“Not yet,” he rumbled, his voice thick with desire. He wanted to savor this, to draw out every exquisite moment. His fingers danced over her clit, circling, teasing, then pressing firmly, sending her spiraling towards the edge. Her whole body trembled, her legs wrapped around him, pulling him closer. He leaned down, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin between her legs, dipping into her folds, tasting her, making her shiver and moan with delight. He was discovering her, mapping every inch of her pleasure zones with a primal instinct that thrilled her. His tongue then ventured further, teasing the sensitive skin of her perineum, almost brushing her butthole, making her gasp at the unexpected, tantalizing sensation. She pressed herself against his face, offering herself completely, trusting him implicitly.

Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, Bulma reached for her bedside drawer. She pulled out a sleek, perfectly formed dildo, a gift she’d bought herself on a whim, never imagining she’d use it in such a momentous encounter. It was a beautiful, lifelike replica, thick and perfectly curved. Goku watched, fascinated, his brow furrowed in curiosity. “What’s that, Bulma?” he asked, his voice a low rumble. She smiled, a wicked glint in her eyes.

“This, my love, is a little something to warm us up, and to show you just how much I want you.” She took a generous dollop of lubricant and coated the dildo, making it slick and gleaming. Her fingers then guided the thick shaft to her throbbing entrance. With a slow, deliberate push, she began to ease it inside herself. She gasped, a mixture of pleasure and the slight stretch of her tight pussy. “Oh, God, yes,” she moaned, looking at Goku, her eyes dilated with desire. She began to ride the dildo, a slow, sensual rhythm, her hips grinding, her head thrown back. She rotated her hips, working the plastic length deep inside her, groaning as it stretched and filled her. Goku watched, captivated, his own arousal intensifying, his eyes fixed on the spectacle of her taking herself, preparing for him, showing him her boundless desire. She thrust into the dildo, imagining it was him, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her body glistening with sweat.

She pulled the dildo out with a loud slurp, then held it up, showing him the glistening tip, coated in her wetness. “See, Goku? I’m ready for you. So ready.” She then took his magnificent erection in her hand, comparing its size to the dildo, a playful challenge in her gaze. Goku needed no further invitation. He positioned himself between her legs, his massive erection brushing against her pussy, teasing her, making her whimper with anticipation. His gaze locked with hers, a silent question, a shared understanding. Bulma wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him on. “Now, Goku. Please. Fill me.”

With a slow, deliberate push, Goku began to enter her. Bulma cried out, a sound of pure pleasure and intense sensation. He was so big, so much thicker than the dildo, filling her completely, stretching her to her absolute limits. She felt him slowly, agonizingly, slide deeper, past her labia, past her G-spot, until he was fully buried within her. She gasped, her eyes squeezing shut, tears of pure ecstasy pricking at their corners. “Oh, Goku! So deep! So good!”

He held still for a moment, allowing her to adjust, allowing their bodies to meld, to become one. Then, with a groan that tore from his very core, he began to move, a slow, powerful thrust that pushed him to her very depths, retreating just enough to re-enter with renewed force. Bulma met his rhythm, her hips rising to meet his every thrust, their bodies creating a symphony of slapping flesh and guttural moans. He was a force of nature, primal and unstoppable, and she reveled in every powerful stroke.

His hands moved back to her big ass, gripping the firm cheeks, lifting her, angling her to take him even deeper. Each thrust was a powerful tremor, shaking her entire being, sending waves of pleasure crashing through her. She felt him stretch her, fill her, possess her utterly. Her hands raked down his back, her nails digging into his skin, leaving faint red marks. She was beyond coherent thought, lost in the sheer, overwhelming sensation of his body moving within hers. “Faster, Goku! Please, faster!”

He obliged, his thrusts becoming quicker, harder, deeper. Her moans turned into breathless cries, his into guttural roars. Their bed creaked, testament to the powerful rhythm of their lovemaking. The scent of sex, sweat, and their unique chemistries filled the room, a potent aphrodisiac. Bulma felt herself building, rising to an unbearable peak, the friction of his enormous cock against her G-spot pushing her closer and closer to oblivion. Her body spasmed around him, milking every inch of his shaft, drawing out even more pleasure from him.

As she neared her climax, Goku leaned down, whispering against her ear, “I’m going to fill you, Bulma. All of you. Let me fill you.” The thought of his hot, potent seed spilling inside her, claiming her, sent her over the edge. She screamed his name as her orgasm tore through her, a powerful, earth-shattering wave that left her trembling and spent. Her pussy convulsed around him, clenching and releasing, drawing the final, powerful thrusts from him.

With a final, guttural roar, Goku too found his release. He plunged deep inside her, pumping his hot, thick cum into her, a copious creampie that filled her to overflowing. She felt the hot rush inside her, the incredible warmth, the tangible proof of their union. He groaned, his body shaking with the force of his climax, his muscles rigid, then slowly relaxing as he collapsed onto her, his weight a welcome comfort. His breath hitched in his chest, ragged and deep, as he continued to pulse inside her, his seed still flowing. Bulma held him tight, her legs wrapped around him, her body still quivering with the aftershocks of her orgasm, the beautiful sensation of his creampie warming her from the inside out.

They lay there for a long time, entangled, the sounds of their ragged breathing slowly evening out. Goku eventually stirred, shifting his weight slightly so he wouldn’t crush her, but still remaining deep inside her, unwilling to break their connection. He raised his head, his eyes, now softened by post-coital bliss, gazing down at her. He reached out, brushing a damp strand of hair from her forehead. “Bulma,” he murmured, his voice filled with a tenderness she had rarely heard from him. “That… that was incredible.”

Bulma smiled, a radiant, satisfied smile. She lifted a hand, cupping his cheek, feeling the rough stubble against her palm. “It was, Goku. More than incredible. It was… everything.” She felt his fullness inside her, the warm stickiness of his creampie, a delicious reminder of their passionate coupling. It was a potent symbol of their new, exhilarating bond, a connection that transcended friendship, transcended even the vast differences in their worlds. It was raw, powerful, and utterly, deliciously real.

He kissed her then, a soft, lingering kiss that spoke volumes, a promise of unspoken desires and future intimacies. This wasn't just a physical release; it was a profound deepening of their bond, a testament to years of shared history and a sudden, undeniable spark that had ignited into an inferno. As they finally drifted off to sleep, still tangled together, Goku’s large hand resting possessively on her big ass, Bulma knew, with a certainty that thrilled her to her core, that their world, and their relationship, would never be the same again. And she wouldn't have it any other way.