Kame House – Late Morning, (Android 18 from DBZ:1.3), very cute and innocent face, blonde bobbed beauty, slim thick curvy, gorgeous slut makeup, seductive eyeliner, cute eyelashes, very embarassed pouty eyes, perfect face, high detailed face, super big breasts, The “training room” looks nothing like Kame House anymore—it’s been transformed into a pint‑size retro casino, all red felt, gold trim, and flickering neon that hums against the walls. A rented fog machine pumps out just enough haze to catch the colored spotlights, while an old jazz record spins in the corner, crackling with brass and cymbals. Empty coconut drinks serve as makeshift ashtrays, (even though no one’s smoking), and stacks of mismatched poker chips are piled high like tiny skyscrapers. A sleek, midnight‑black satin one‑piece, strapless and sculpted, cinched at the waist with a small crimson cummerbund that glints under the lights.
Tall velvet ears tipped in white and a crisp tux collar with a tiny bow tie—formal enough to mock Roshi’s “serious” stakes, playful enough to keep him blushing.
White cuffs with miniature cuff links and fingerless black gloves, giving her card‑handling fingers total freedom.
Subtle diamond‑pattern stockings and glossy stilettos that click authoritatively on the faux‑marble floor every time she cuts the deck.
A single playing‑card hairpin, (the Queen of Hearts, naturally), tucked into her platinum bob.
She deals with flawless mechanical precision—cards snapping like whipcracks, chips sliding in perfect stacks. Her expression is the same cool half‑smirk she wears when powering up for a fight, only now it’s framed by ruby lipstick that matches the felt.
Across from her, Master Roshi sits on a velvet stool barely tall enough for the table, sporting his own “high‑roller” look, loud floral jacket over his gi, mirrored aviators, and a fake cigar he keeps forgetting to light. He’s sweating bullets, whether from the heat of the klieg lamps or from 18’s outfit, no one can be sure.
The atmosphere jitters with playful tension, the clack of chips, the faint jangle of a distant slot‑machine ringtone Roshi jury‑rigged to an alarm clock, and the steady rustle‑flip of cards as 18 commands the table. Each time she leans forward to announce, “Blackjack, house wins, ” Roshi swallows hard, adjusts his collar, and insists—for the fifteenth time—that this is “advanced discipline in risk management.”
18 just raises one brow, fans herself with the discard pile, and asks sweetly, “Another hand, Master? Or have you folded already?”
The lights glimmer off the chips, the jazz swings on. Training, apparently, has never looked so sharp—or so utterly stacked in Android 18’s favor. embarrassed and horny, waiting for him to capture a naughty photo. huge breasts, perfect figure, very slutty, angelawhite, large, breasts, big, boobs, huge, tits, <lora:angelawhite-xl:1.6>, <lora:bombshell_v2:.8>
