A/N: This story is fully censored here, due to fanfiction's policies, so check out the complete version on my "archive of our own" page, with the same penname (linked on my profile). It includes the amazing cover photo by lovelykotori, as well as a nice smutty line-art by nala1588. :D

A different kind of Christmas Turkey:

Finished with his gruelling training regimen under intense gravitation, Vegeta did a few stretches to loosen his muscles before returning indoors, only to look agape at the sizzling sight before him: Bulma sat upon their queen-sized bed with her legs crossed, in a set of strap-up stockings and an excessively short, obscenely tight, red miniskirt. What perturbed him most of all, however, was the sultry smirk writ on her face. He scowled at his debased, vulgar banshee of a wife. Curse her! If she really thought she could appease his pent-up rage, frustration and resentment with sex, then she had another thing coming!

The Prince shut the door and warily began strutting towards the bathroom adjacent the bed, nose up in the air, fully intending to ignore the indecent seductress. As he strode, however, Bulma abruptly stood up and sauntered towards him, the ominous staccato of her high heels ringing like alarm bells, warning him to back away, lest he fall into her rapturous snare.

"What do you want?" He spat, giving her a hard glare. He would not give in, not this time, not after the way she'd ignominiously humiliated him in front of everyone!

"You know, you weren't there to receive your Christmas present." She recalled, ignoring his question, as she stood no more than a foot from him and gandered towards the smooth, oaken dressing table, upon which rested a neatly wrapped gift. He followed her gaze, but instantly returned his eyes to hers, with a frown. He would certainly accept her token, but it wouldn't be nearly enough to remedy the successive ills he'd suffered on this day, of all days. Suddenly he went stock-still, however, when Bulma got on her knees, her ravishing smile broadening. "But before we get to that, allow me to remediate some wrongs."

"Wh-what?" He stammered, body going taut, when she hooked her fingers inside the edges of his royal blue, lycra training pants, skirting an arousing path from groin to hips and back, with both her dainty hands.

"I know you're really upset that you never got a taste of that turkey." She replied, eliciting an indignant growl from him, at the vexatious reminder. "But, I do have another kind of turkey, waiting for you."

Against his will, the Prince's member hardened, his breaths shortening in curiously perverse anticipation. The heiress slowly began pulling down the impeding skin-tight lycra, watching in covetous fascination as his perfect, projecting manhood jounced up and down, like a springboard. Gods, she could look at it a thousand times and still be in awe of its staggering length.

A/N: A whole LOT of awesome kink follows, so be sure to check it out on "archiveofourown"! You won't want to miss it! :D