The late-night hum of the Capsule Corp lab was usually a comforting rhythm to Bulma’s focused mind, but tonight, it felt like a dull throb against the storm raging outside. Rain lashed against the reinforced windows, each gust of wind a mournful howl that echoed the restless churning in her own chest. She was hunched over a schematic for a new energy converter, the complex equations blurring into an indecipherable mess as her thoughts drifted, as they often did lately, to a certain Saiyan warrior. Vegeta was off world, training, as usual, leaving her with the vast, opulent emptiness of their home. A pang of loneliness, sharp and familiar, twisted in her gut.

Suddenly, a faint but distinct thud rattled the front door downstairs. Bulma’s head snapped up, a frown creasing her brow. Who could possibly be out in this weather? Before she could even consider checking the security feeds, a familiar, powerful ki signature filled the house, a comforting warmth radiating even through the floors. Goku. Her heart skipped a beat, a foolish, girlish flutter she instantly chastised herself for. He was married, a father, her oldest friend. Yet, the undeniable thrill of his unexpected presence always managed to hijack her senses.

He appeared at the lab door moments later, dripping wet, his orange gi clinging to his incredibly muscled frame. His black hair, usually defying gravity, was flattened and slicked by the downpour, giving him a wild, untamed look that sent an unexpected shiver down Bulma’s spine. Water pooled at his feet, but he seemed oblivious, his innocent, wide eyes scanning her face with genuine concern. "Bulma! I felt your ki spike. Is everything alright? That storm is really something else." His voice, though deep, held that familiar gentle quality that always disarmed her.

“Goku! What are you doing here?” she exclaimed, trying to sound annoyed, but a genuine smile betrayed her. “You’re absolutely drenched! Come in, come in, before you short-circuit my entire lab!” She grabbed a towel from a nearby shelf, one she usually reserved for wiping down equipment, and tossed it to him. As he began vigorously toweling his hair, droplets of water glistening on his powerful shoulders, Bulma found her gaze lingering. He was a force of nature, untamed and pure, and utterly captivating. His raw strength, the kind that could level mountains, was always present, an almost palpable aura around him, but it was tempered by a kindness that was just as immense.

“I was on my way back from training, flying through the mountains, and the storm got really bad,” he explained, his brow furrowed slightly as he ran the towel over his chest. “I thought I’d just check in, make sure you and Trunks were safe. Videl was worried.” He mentioned his wife’s name with a casualness that should have quelled the ridiculous stirrings in Bulma, but for some reason, it only intensified them. She always wondered what it would be like, to be the focus of that kind of unwavering loyalty, that simple, profound love.

The electricity flickered then, plunging the lab into momentary darkness before emergency lights hummed to life, casting long, eerie shadows. The wind outside howled louder, a truly menacing sound. “Well, you’re here now,” Bulma said, her voice a little softer than she intended. “You can’t fly back in this. You’d better stay the night.” The words were out before she fully processed them, and a blush crept up her neck. Goku, ever the innocent, simply nodded. “Thanks, Bulma! I really appreciate it.” He offered her one of his signature, guileless smiles, and it was like a jolt straight to her heart.

They sat in the living room, the roaring fire in the hearth the only other source of warmth apart from Goku’s inherent heat. Bulma had given him some of Vegeta’s old training clothes – a pair of dark sweatpants and a simple long-sleeved shirt – but they still seemed to strain against his immense physique. He looked surprisingly comfortable, curled up on the plush couch, talking about his training, his eyes sparkling with a familiar enthusiasm. Bulma found herself watching him, truly watching him, in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to in years. The way his muscles flexed even in repose, the innocent curve of his lips when he was lost in thought, the subtle hint of dark, **hairy** growth visible at the base of his powerful neck where the shirt collar dipped, hinting at the raw masculinity beneath the fabric. It was captivating.

“You know,” Bulma began, her voice barely a whisper, “sometimes I wonder what it would have been like, if things had been different.” Goku paused, his gaze meeting hers, a flicker of something unreadable in his deep, dark eyes. “Different how, Bulma?” he asked, his head tilted slightly, genuine curiosity in his tone. She blushed again, her heart hammering. This was dangerous territory. “Oh, you know,” she demurred, waving a hand vaguely. “If… if we had been the ones to… fall in love, I suppose. Before all of this.” She gestured around at the opulent room, the life she’d built with Vegeta, the life she thought she wanted.

A heavy silence descended, broken only by the crackle of the fire and the relentless storm. Goku’s innocent facade seemed to crack just a fraction, revealing a depth of thought she rarely saw. He shifted, turning fully towards her, his knee brushing against her silk-clad leg. A jolt, electric and undeniable, shot through her. “Bulma…” he started, his voice a low rumble. “I… I never really thought about it like that. Not properly. But you’re right. We’ve always been so close. You’re… you’re so incredible. So smart, and strong, and… beautiful.” The last word was almost a gasp, and his eyes dropped to her lips, then travelled slowly down her body, lingering for a fraction of a second on the swell of her breasts beneath her dressing gown, before snapping back up to her face, a flush spreading across his own cheeks.

Bulma’s breath hitched. Beautiful. Goku had called her beautiful. No flowery compliments, just a raw, honest observation that hit her harder than any poetic declaration ever could. The air between them thickened, charged with an unspoken energy. The storm outside seemed to mirror the tempest building within them. Her gaze locked with his, the question, the desire, burning unspoken in both their eyes. She leaned forward, drawn by an irresistible magnetic pull. Goku, in turn, leaned in, his powerful hand reaching out, not quite touching her, but hovering, a mere inch from her cheek, radiating heat.

“Goku…” she whispered, her voice husky with longing. He finally closed the distance, his lips meeting hers with a tentative softness that quickly deepened into something fervent, urgent. His mouth was surprisingly soft, yet firm, tasting of rain and something inherently, powerfully masculine. Her hands, almost without conscious thought, found their way to his hair, clutching at the damp strands as the kiss deepened, becoming more insistent. Her body hummed with a sensation she hadn’t felt in years, a primal awakening that bypassed all logic and reason. This was Goku. Her friend, her hero, and in this moment, her deepest, most forbidden desire.

His hand finally cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking gently, sending shivers down her spine. The other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer until she was almost sitting on his lap, the hard planes of his body pressed against her. She could feel the immense strength beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, the ripple of muscle, the warmth that permeated her own silken dressing gown. Her fingers tangled in his hair, then drifted to his shoulders, feeling the incredible power contained within him. The kiss broke, a soft gasp escaping her lips, and then his mouth was trailing fire down her neck, over her jaw, making her arch into him. “Bulma,” he murmured, his voice rough with growing desire, a sound that sent tremors straight to her core. “I… I want you.”

The confession was so raw, so honest, that it shattered any remaining doubts. She met his gaze, her own eyes blazing with a mixture of longing and fierce determination. “I want you too, Goku,” she breathed, her voice barely audible over the drumming of her own heart. She unfastened the tie of her silk dressing gown, letting it fall open to reveal the delicate lace chemise and matching shorts she wore beneath. His eyes widened, a flicker of awe and pure, unadulterated lust passing through them as he took in her curves, her long legs, and the enticing swell of her **Big Ass** beneath the flimsy fabric. The sight of his raw, visceral reaction ignited a thrilling confidence within her.

His hands, no longer hesitant, slid under her gown, tracing the delicate lace, making her gasp as he finally reached the soft skin of her lower back. He pulled her even closer, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, her body pressing flush against his. She could feel the hard ridge of his erection straining against his sweatpants, a powerful testament to his burgeoning desire. He kissed her again, deeper this time, his tongue exploring the warm cavern of her mouth with an intensity that left her breathless and dizzy with anticipation. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers, to finally touch the power that radiated from him.

With a soft groan, Goku helped her, shedding the shirt in a swift movement. The sight of his bare chest, broad and sculpted with years of unimaginable training, took her breath away. His pectorals were like slabs of warm, hard rock, and the dark, **hairy** trail leading down to his navel was an incredibly sensual sight, a primal invitation. She ran her hands over his chest, feeling the tautness of his skin, the beat of his powerful heart beneath her fingertips. He shivered at her touch, his head tilting back as she leaned in to kiss his collarbone, then trailed her lips down to his sternum, tasting the salty sweetness of his skin.

He lifted her then, as if she weighed nothing, carrying her from the living room, the path illuminated only by the faint glow of the emergency lights. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, her legs still clinging to his waist as he carried her through the silent halls of Capsule Corp, the only sound their ragged breathing and the relentless drumming of the rain outside. He pushed open the door to her bedroom, a room she’d shared with Vegeta for years, and laid her gently on the plush, king-sized bed. The soft light of a bedside lamp, battery-powered, cast a warm, intimate glow over them.

Bulma watched him, her eyes devouring his form as he quickly shed the rest of his clothes. His sweatpants fell to the floor, revealing his powerful legs, his firm thighs, and the glorious, undeniable erection that sprang forth, thick and pulsing. A gasp escaped her lips, a mixture of awe and pure, unadulterated lust. He was magnificent, a perfect specimen of raw masculinity. He stood before her, fully exposed, and for the first time, she saw a vulnerability in his eyes, a hesitant question, a plea for acceptance. She held out a hand, beckoning him closer. “Come here, my hero,” she whispered, her voice thick with desire.

He came to her, kneeling on the bed between her legs, his hands stroking her calves, then moving slowly up her thighs. He gently peeled away her lace shorts and chemise, his eyes never leaving hers, making her feel utterly cherished and desired. Her **Big Ass** was now fully exposed, creamy white against the darker sheets, and she could feel his gaze linger there, a silent appreciation that sent a wave of heat through her. When her body was completely bare, he leaned down and kissed her, a deep, soul-stirring kiss that promised everything.

His tongue traced the outline of her lips, then plunged in, mimicking the deeper penetration they both craved. Her hands wandered, exploring the taut muscles of his back, the powerful curve of his buttocks. She felt his fingers ghost over her inner thighs, then gently part her labia, finding the slick, sensitive bud of her clitoris. A soft moan escaped her as he began to toy with her, his touch light at first, then more insistent. Her hips began to arch instinctively, seeking the pressure, the delicious friction. He leaned down, his hot breath ghosting over her most sensitive flesh, and then his mouth was there, soft, warm, and utterly divine.

Bulma cried out, a raw, unrestrained sound of pure pleasure as Goku’s tongue found her clitoris, swirling and sucking with expert precision. He seemed to know exactly what to do, his every movement a symphony of sensation that built quickly within her. Her fingers buried themselves in his hair, holding his head close as she bucked and writhed beneath him, her whole body alight with pleasure. The feeling was exquisite, an overwhelming rush that had her on the brink of orgasm within minutes. He lavished attention on her, his lips and tongue painting a landscape of pleasure on her most intimate parts, making her gasp and moan his name, over and over again.

Just as she felt the first tremors of climax begin to ripple through her, Goku pulled away, his eyes sparkling with a primal triumph. She whimpered in protest, but he silenced her with a deep, passionate kiss. “I want to be inside you, Bulma,” he murmured against her lips, his voice husky with desire. “Now.” She nodded, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her body aching for him. He positioned himself between her legs, his thick, throbbing erection pressing against her entrance. He moved slowly, giving her time to adjust, his eyes watching her face intently. The tip pushed inside, and she gasped, feeling stretched, full, and gloriously open for him.

He pushed deeper, slowly, inch by agonizing inch, until he was fully buried within her. She cried out again, a mix of pain and profound pleasure as her body stretched to accommodate him. The feeling of him inside her was incredible, a deep, satisfying fullness that sent waves of pure bliss through her. Her inner muscles clenched around him, holding him tight, and he groaned, his eyes closing in pure ecstasy. “Bulma,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, his forehead resting against hers. “You feel… amazing.”

He began to move, slowly at first, each thrust deep and deliberate, exploring the depths of her. Bulma wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him even closer, wanting to feel every inch of him. The rhythm built, faster and more urgent, their bodies slamming together with a primal intensity. The bed creaked under their passionate movements, mirroring the storm outside, each thrust a thunderclap, each moan a gust of wind. She buried her face in his shoulder, biting gently, leaving small marks on his tanned skin, her hands gripping his powerful shoulders, feeling the incredible strength of him as he drove into her, over and over again.

Her **Big Ass** lifted with each of his powerful thrusts, giving him more leverage, more depth, and the friction against her clitoris, from the base of his shaft, was driving her wild. She was a tangled mess of desire and sensation, her mind consumed by the feel of him inside her, the scent of his skin, the sound of his ragged breathing. She whimpered, her voice cracking as she neared the precipice again. “Goku… I’m so close… oh, please…”

He responded with a primal roar, driving into her with renewed ferocity, his movements becoming faster, harder, deeper. The blood thrummed in her ears, her body vibrating with the intensity of their connection. She felt herself shattering, her entire being erupting in a wave of exquisite spasms that clenched around his shaft, milking every last drop of pleasure from him. Her climax was a torrent, a beautiful, devastating release that left her gasping, trembling in his arms. He held her tight, his own body tensing, his groans turning into guttural roars of pleasure as he felt her internal contractions. He was close. So incredibly close.

“Bulma, I… I can’t hold it,” he gritted out, his voice raw with need. “I’m going to… oh, I’m going to come!” She looked up at him, her eyes still hazy with pleasure, and saw the raw, desperate need in his face. A wicked, thrilling thought sparked in her mind. She wanted all of him, every last drop. “Goku,” she panted, her voice filled with a bold, seductive command. “Give it to me. Give me everything. All over my face.”

His eyes snapped open, wide with surprise, then a blazing, primal lust that made her heart pound even harder. He pulled out of her, the sudden emptiness a brief shock, but then he was positioning himself above her, his powerful hips hovering over her face, his pulsing erection gleaming in the dim light. She watched, mesmerized, as he brought himself closer, his eyes locked on hers. “Are you sure, Bulma?” he asked, his voice strained with the effort to hold back. She nodded, a fierce smile on her face. “Positive. Don’t hold back, Goku. Show me everything.”

With a final, earth-shattering groan, Goku unleashed himself. His body tensed, and then a thick, hot gush of cum erupted from him, spraying across her face, her hair, her chest. The **cumshot** was explosive, a powerful torrent that seemed to go on and on, drenching her in his hot, potent seed. She closed her eyes, gasping, feeling the warmth of it, the surprising stickiness, the tangible proof of their shared intimacy. It was messy, glorious, and utterly thrilling. He continued to pump, emptying himself completely, his body shuddering with the force of his release, until his strong thighs trembled and he collapsed, spent, beside her.

They lay there for a long time, their bodies entangled, their ragged breaths slowly evening out. Bulma’s face and chest were covered in his cum, a beautiful, erotic testament to the passion they had just shared. She didn’t care about the mess, or the lingering stickiness. Instead, she felt a profound sense of connection, a deep, primal satisfaction that resonated through her very being. Goku, after a few moments, stirred. He propped himself up on an elbow, looking at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of wonder, exhaustion, and a tenderness that made her heart ache.

He reached out a hand, gently wiping a streak of his cum from her cheek with his thumb, his gaze soft and loving. “Bulma,” he whispered, his voice still hoarse. “That was… incredible.” She smiled, reaching up to cup his jaw, her fingers tracing the strong line of his chin. “It was, Goku. More than incredible.” She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, tasting a faint hint of his essence. It was a kiss of gratitude, of passion, and of a burgeoning, undeniable love that had finally, spectacularly, erupted between them.

The storm outside had begun to subside, the rain softening to a gentle patter, the wind a mere whisper. As the first faint light of dawn began to peek through the curtains, casting a soft, pearly glow over their intertwined bodies, Bulma knew that nothing would ever be the same. The lines had blurred, boundaries had been crossed, and a new, powerful connection had been forged in the heart of the storm. As Goku pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her in a protective embrace, she rested her head on his powerful chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. She was covered in his essence, wrapped in his warmth, and utterly, completely, content.