With the builders working builders time the renovations of the clubrooms for the Subcontinent Railway Sex Club at Northcote (see Chp. 02 in this series) had fallen way behind their promised finishing date. This meant this was little I could do with the fourteen Indian women that were its founding members. So I concentrated on Mai and her sexfights with Ruth.
Ten years before Mai had been ranked 28 in the World Asian Sexfighting Championship and the 2009 finals had blown away World number 3 and prior year runner up, the 44 year veteran Fu Hai Shoon from Singapore, and the world 2 and last year's semifinalist Nha Trung, the young 22 year old Vietnamese prodigy, on her way to a contested decision semifinal loss. She was the next Big Thing. But one year later she was being regularly beaten by nobodies back in the local Melbourne scene.
She had been a shooting star: bright but short-lived. Some said she had early menopause, others it was her husband's desire for 18 and 21-year-old Massage parlour girls, while others blamed it on the drugs, which they said hyped her up in 2009 or that it was her twin who fought in 2009 not her. The list of reasons went on but after a few months, she was yesterday's news and forgotten.
The morning after Mai defeated Ruth in their first sexfight with a clinical demolition of the 50-year-old Anglo Indian, followed by her frenzied victory rites (see Chp. 06 in this series) I walked into my new Springvale branch. I wanted to congratulate Mai on her first victory in her comeback to sexfighting, but more importantly, further encourage her to believe in pursuing my quest to be the manager of an Asian World number one sexfighter.
Sure she had said she wanted that the day before. But she had just been kicked out by her husband, discovered she was penniless thanks to one of my unbreakable prenup agreements stolen from me by an ex-employee, and lost her job. Then I had appeared with a job, accommodation hope of a future for her. It was only natural she would say yes to anything then. But now it was 12 hours later. She had had time to reconsider and see that it had been a clinical victory against an enthusiastic but inexperienced sexfighter and that her performance lacked that X factor champions have. Still, how she had celebrated her victory in her post-match victory fuck gave me hope that the old Mai from ten years before was lurking just below the surface.
She had been world 28 then and at that time the next Big Thing. As they say in the music charts she was rising with a bullet. But factors to do with her husband caused her within a year to become an easy beat on the local Australian circuit and then drop out of sexfighting completely. My hope was somehow I could rekindle her previous competitive drive and that she could make it to the top bracket of ten women, from where anything could happen. I had never managed a number one and although this was a long shot I believed this was my only chance to do so. I had it all planned and this morning I would nurture the seeds I had planted and continue the slow build-up to convince her.
I opened the door and made sure I snibbed it as I needed time to lay the groundwork to convince her she had a future in sexfighting. I was greeted by a warm smile from my 43-year-old new receptionist Mai. Surrounded by a soft shoulder-length perm was a really beautiful face with perhaps tinges of subtle plastic surgery. If so it was well done and hard to detect. Maybe tattooed lip outliner, but none of that tattooed eyebrow I detested. Looking more closely she was high cheek boned and the nose although Asian was not flat and wide. Perfect. She was the exact sort of middle-aged Asian beauty that aroused me.
She stood up behind the chest-high greeting counter. What The Fuck.
"I sorry I was a bit late today but I had to get some new clothes. You said you didn't want any Vietnamese customer to look better than your receptionist. When I was kicked out I didn't have anything good only the dress we bought that yesterday. So with the credit card you gave me I stopped off before work and bought this. Is it OK?"
She spread her arms to open the cream Bolero style jacket as she stepped from behind the counter.
OK? My cock immediately said "Yes." No, to be truthful it said. "Yes, fucking YEESSSS."
Her 5 ft 2 inch 85-pound body was perched on black 5-inch heels. Despite being short she was proportioned like a supermodel. Long-legged for her height, unlike most Asians whose legs are short in proportion to their torso, and therefore she looked taller than her height. Many Asians are bow-legged or have no calf definition. Not so for Mai and her legs disappeared into a 12-inch cream skirt that looked like it was sprayed on in the same way Nike sports running leggings appear to be. I don't know what the material was but it allowed her black butterfly thong to be seen in all its sheer detail.
Her top was a black semi-transparent chiffon blouse that clung to her body like it was magnetised. Mai was 32A 21 30 and because of her small waist, she looked fuller than a 32 and her butt was toned and tight but still curved, not flat. The blouse material displayed the shape of each mandarin sized tit, the extent of each areola and the size and shape of her thick nipples. Although not as long as Ruth's which were naturally long and then lengthened with nipple filler, Mai's were thicker although stubbier.
I picked my jaw off the floor and nodded my approval.
"Greg, can we talk," she said, so we went into the office and she sat down. That was no better for me as the skirt rode up displaying her butterfly thong.
She started. "After last night I don't know how to say this properly. It's about becoming involved in sexfighting again." Her voice trailed off.
Here it comes I thought. I braced myself for the thanks but no thanks. Well, at least I had a hot new receptionist who might bring in business. Let's get it over with I thought.
She took a deep breath and in a faltering voice continued, "I know you said last night you would. Please don't get angry."
Tears come to her eyes. It came in with a rush. "Because my husband didn't support me I lost faith. Last night you were there seeing me win as you played with your cock. If you weren't there it would be like before and I would have lost. Don't give me false promises and build up my hope. Do you want to watch my sexfights?."
God, she wanted to fight. I wasn't lying when I said, "Mai, I will be watching every single fight till you are number one, including the unofficial money bets that will enable you to challenge to be on the Australian rankings, and then the overseas fights when you are qualified to challenge internationally. And of course even though we can't with the local money bets after we reach the Australian rankings we will insist on victory rights and I want to be involved so they know how proud I am of you."
Her tears were flowing like water as she mumbled, "I wan wan...want to...to believe...but."
I put her hand on my groin. "Feel that. It says I am telling the truth."
In a second the 43-year-old was kneeling in front of me, unzipping and dropping my trousers and licking and sucking the rock hard cock meat in her hand. I gently disentangled my cock from her grip, stood her up, slowly stripped her, then bent her over placing her with her forearms resting on the desk. I knelt behind her and spread her legs wider. Her pucker hole was stretched and her love box hung down open and already glistening. I licked both entrances hearing her moan and feeling her body quiver as she pushed back.
I placed my cock against her wet slit and slowly guided the head into her. It was all I had to do as Mai pushed back forcing half the shaft into herself. She was so wet I was able to slide the remainder into her in one slow steady push as her groaning increased in volume. I placed my hands on hips. Most people would have gone hell for leather and fucked like a rabbit, but I slowly, deliberately screwed her, matching my timing to her backward pushes and deep long grunts. I was in this for the long run, not a super one-off fuck. Just like the day before she oozed a desperate need for being wanted.
I took one of her hands from the table and placed it on her clit and she started slowly frigging herself and stroking my juice covered rod. My hand moved to her nipples alternating between them, keeping them rock hard. All the time I gave her what she wanted to hear. As I fucked her desperate responsive body I talked of how I wanted, no needed to see her sexfight, how lucky I was she wanted me to be part of the victory rites, how proud I was of her as a woman, how I would demand her to compete in the Vietnamese nude beauty contests. Her moans were long and almost animal-like and then I asked, "Do you believe me?"
She screamed "YEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS" and spasmed uncontrollably as she came.
Then I fucked her like a rabbit, taking her anally as well before adding my load to the 4 cums of hers that filled her cunt. Again playing the long game instead of finishing up I held and caressed her before we lowered our entwined bodies to the carpet. I was still comforting and caressing her as she moaned and pressed against my hands. Finally, her groans turned into semi-intelligible speech.
"Why did my husband not feel this way?."
"Because he didn't appreciate what he had. He probably regrets it now."
She shook her head. "No, No. No. He hated me gaining confidence from sexfighting. He didn't want to fuck like we did. He wanted to make me feel used and no good at fucking. Why, Why Why?."
She sobbed and continued, "Why, Why, Why didn't I have you then as my husband? Having you with me when I fight is what I need. Imagine if I had been able to say to my opponent that my husband is going to fuck me while I fuck you after you lose. Your meat big and so strong inside me, filling me with your cum as I fuck her with a strapon. I could have been a contender, could have been number one."
"You would have wanted that," I queried?
"Oh yes, so much. But I can't now because I'm old and men want young wives, and I'm married and it takes so long to get divorced."
"Not me," I replied. "We can work together and will pick young opponents mostly so they see how proud of you I am, and we could have our unique ceremony so we know inside and feel we are husband and wife."
I pretended to think. "We can change your name by deed poll to Mai Jones, then get you a new passport so we travel and book in as Mr and Mrs Jones."
"Oh yes. YEEEESSSSSS. We must do that. You want us to be husband and wife so everyone knows. You want everyone to see you are proud I am your sexfighter. You want to be involved in everything. Fuck my shit ex-husband. This is how it should be. You plan it all. Pick best one for me to sexfight and then watch me and then we do the victory rites together."
She was already playing with her clit and when I said, "Every single competition contest and practice fight here and overseas. That is how we will do it as husband and wife." The last few words were drowned out by her prolonged shriek as she came, slumping again to the floor with cum juice pooling in her hand.
And to think I had gone there that morning hoping to slowly start the process that would convince her to sexfight. I was too spent to fuck her so I cradled and caressed her for a while before she went to shower and get dressed again. She returned, showered, face made up and dressed as she had been when I had entered. I pressed the button on the HP Laserjet and it slowly spat out three pages. I handed the first two to her and she read, then hugged me holding the name change deed poll and passport application in one hand.
