The courtyard was still humming faintly from the energy discharge when Buu finally raised a hand.
"That's enough for today," he said, voice calm but firm.
Mrs. Brief's cheerful voice carried from the veranda, as if none of it mattered."Lunch is ready! Don't make me call twice!"
By the time they made it inside, the long dining table was already set — steaming bowls, roasted vegetables, bright sauces, and enough food for ten people.
Buu sat first, serene as ever, while Bulma sank into her chair, still half-distracted. Mai sat beside her, arms crossed but eyes darting toward him more often than she cared to admit.
Then came the sound of heavy boots and a familiar sigh.
Dr. Brief walked in, wiping grease from his hands with a rag, still wearing his lab coat. "Smells good," he muttered, taking a seat. "What'd I miss?"
Mrs. Brief's smile tightened instantly. "What you always miss — everything that isn't your lab."
He blinked, confused. "I was working."
"You're always working," she shot back. "You didn't even notice we had guests for three days!"
Dr. Brief adjusted his glasses. "I noticed. Big guy, pink aura, makes explosions. Hard to miss."
Bulma groaned softly. "Not again…"
Mai leaned closer, whispering with amusement, "I like them."
Mrs. Brief huffed, crossing her arms. "You'd like anyone if you ever looked up from your gadgets once in a while."
Her husband chuckled nervously. "Dear, if I didn't work, where do you think the money for your garden comes from?"
"Oh, don't you start with that!"
The air grew dense — until Bulma slammed her chopsticks down. "Okay! Can we please have one meal without a domestic meltdown?"
Silence. Then Buu, ever calm, lifted his glass and smiled faintly. "It's… oddly comforting," he said.
Mrs. Brief giggled despite herself. Dr. Brief sighed, defeated.
Bulma pinched the bridge of her nose. "Unbelievable."
Mai smirked. "You have to admit, it's kind of funny."
"Funny," Bulma muttered, "is one word for it."
They ate in a fragile truce — tension, laughter, and faint curiosity tangled together like threads waiting to snap.
And all the while, Buu sat between them all, silent, unreadable — like he wasn't the one that fucked a wife in her home.
Under the table, Mrs. Brief's foot was rubbing against Buu's cock. With a mischievous look, she asked him, "Darling, you're very tense. Are you okay?"
"Yes, I was simply overwhelmed by the taste of your dishes. They evoke pleasant emotions." he replied holding back.
"He's right dear, you really outdid yourself today" replied Dr. Brief unaware.
Bulma began to suspect something, the looks Buu and his mother were giving each other reminded her of the night before. Mai was the only one who ate at the table calmly.
"Yes, but it needed a bit of milk to accompany everything, maybe fruity" Mrs. Brief replied licking her lips, intensifying the attack that was taking place.
"Don't we have any milk in the fridge?" Bulma asked, increasingly doubtful.
"No, what I want isn't in the fridge..." A piece of cutlery fell. "Oops, how careless I was, I dropped my fork!" She bent down and started walking under the table toward Buu.
She took his dick out of his pants and started sucking him. "I really needed it."she whispered to herself.
Meanwhile, Bulma turned red with embarrassment; she had now understood what was happening.
Buu, however, didn't leave her a moment. "Bulma, your face is red. Are you sick?"
"Dear, go and rest if you feel ill" the anxious father asked her.
"It's nothing, don't worry" Bulma replied, gritting her teeth in anger "I'll get my revenge, you bad guy" she muttered
After a while, "Sorry, I couldn't find the spoon," Mrs. Brief calmly sat back down.
"I was starting to worry, you were taking so long. What's that white thing on your lip?" asked Dr. Brief.
"Simple sauce" he replied elegantly, on the other side without being heard by the others Mai whispered "Didn't she drop a fork?"
Author here: How is it?