Part 3: Homecoming Heat
Krillin materialized on the familiar grounds of Capsule Corp, the evening sun casting long shadows over the sprawling complex. His body still buzzed from the encounters in Universe 6—first with Caulifla and Kale, then the divine bargain with Vados. But now, he was home. Earth. Universe 7. He dusted off his gi, trying to shake off the lingering scent of alien worlds and... other activities. Android 18 would kill him if she found out. Or maybe not— their relationship was rock-solid, built on trust and a shared history of battles and passion.
He hurried inside, the door sliding open with a whoosh. There she was, in the living room, lounging on the couch with a magazine in hand. Android 18—his wife, the fierce, beautiful cyborg with short blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and a body that could (and had) destroyed armies. She wore a casual tank top and jeans that hugged her athletic curves, her feet kicked up on the coffee table.
"Krillin? You're back early," she said, not looking up at first. Then she glanced over, her expression shifting from boredom to mild surprise. "You look... wrecked. What happened out there?"
He chuckled nervously, rubbing his bald head. "Uh, long story. Ship broke down, ended up in Universe 6. Had to... negotiate my way back."
18 arched an eyebrow, setting the magazine down. She could always read him like a book. "Negotiate, huh? With who? Those Saiyan girls? Or maybe that angel chick?"
Krillin's face flushed. "What? No! I mean... okay, maybe a little. But it was for survival! I swear, nothing—"
She stood up, sauntering over with that predatory grace that made his heart race. "Relax, short stuff. I'm not mad. Actually..." Her lips curved into a smirk as she traced a finger down his chest. "Sounds kinda hot. Tell me about it while I remind you why home is better."
Before he could protest, she pulled him into a deep kiss, her lips firm and demanding. Her tongue invaded his mouth, tasting him, claiming him. Krillin melted into it, his hands instinctively gripping her waist, feeling the cool, synthetic skin that hid unbreakable strength.
They stumbled toward the bedroom, clothes shedding along the way. 18 yanked off his gi top, her nails scraping lightly over his muscled chest—marks that would fade but thrilled him nonetheless. "So, did they ride you hard?" she whispered against his ear, nipping the lobe.
"Y-Yeah," he admitted, his cock already hardening in his pants. "But not like you."
"Good answer." She shoved him onto the bed, stripping off her tank top to reveal her perfect, perky breasts—full C-cups with pink nipples that begged for attention. No bra; she didn't need one. Her jeans followed, sliding down toned legs to expose her smooth, bare pussy, already wet with anticipation.
Krillin kicked off his pants, his thick erection springing free. 18 eyed it hungrily, climbing onto the bed and straddling his thighs. "Missed this," she murmured, wrapping her hand around his shaft. She stroked slowly, her grip firm—strong enough to crush steel, but gentle for him. Her thumb teased the head, smearing the precum that beaded there.
He groaned, reaching up to fondle her breasts, squeezing the soft flesh and rolling her nipples between his fingers. "18... you're incredible."
"Lazuli," she corrected with a grin—her real name, a rare intimacy. She leaned down, her breasts pressing against his chest as she kissed him again, grinding her wet folds along his length. The friction was electric, her clit rubbing against his vein-ridged cock.
Unable to wait, she lifted her hips and positioned him at her entrance. "Fuck me, Krillin. Hard." She sank down in one smooth motion, taking him to the hilt. Her pussy was tight, warm, and impossibly slick—engineered perfection clenching around him like a vice.
Krillin thrust up, meeting her descent, his hands gripping her ass cheeks—firm and round, flexing under his touch. She rode him with rhythmic power, bouncing with controlled force that shook the bed. Her breasts jiggled enticingly, and he sat up to capture one in his mouth, sucking hard on the nipple while flicking the other with his thumb.
"Ahh... yes, just like that," 18 moaned, her head tilting back. Her blonde hair cascaded as she picked up speed, her hips slamming down with superhuman precision. The room filled with the wet slaps of skin on skin, her juices coating his balls.
Krillin flipped her over suddenly—surprising her with his strength—and pinned her beneath him. "My turn." He pounded into her missionary style, legs hooked over his shoulders for deeper penetration. Each thrust hit her G-spot, making her arch and gasp—rare vulnerability from the stoic android.
"Fuck... deeper," she demanded, her nails digging into his back, leaving red trails. He obliged, angling his hips to grind against her clit with every stroke. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer, her inner walls pulsing as she neared climax.
Krillin felt the build-up, his balls tightening. "I'm close... Lazuli..."
"Cum inside me," she commanded, her eyes locking onto his. "Fill me up."
With a guttural groan, he erupted, pumping thick ropes of cum deep into her. The sensation triggered her own orgasm—her body shuddering, pussy milking him dry as waves of pleasure crashed over her. "Krillin... yes!"
They collapsed together, panting and sweaty. 18 pulled him into a lazy kiss, her hand stroking his spent cock. "Welcome home. But next time, take me with you. I want in on the fun."
Krillin laughed breathlessly. "Deal." Home was definitely where the heart—and the heat—was.