This can be read and enjoyed as a stand-alone story, but deeper character depth and the effects of the plots, rivalries, twists and turns of Asma's sexual journey will be found by reading the entire series.
It was the night following her 3peat with Afsar; her first fuck with him for 15 years and the night she had taken his monster cock in her cunt, mouth and arse, draining him 3 times in the process. Afsar had mentioned that tonight would be the Annual meeting of his Pakistani Refugees in Australia Group. It had originally started at the Coffee/hookah shop where he met daily with his Pakistani middle-aged cronies and with Government funding had evolved into something larger. Normally she would have claimed University work and not attended but after last night's bonding fucking she felt she should attend.
Dressed in full Burqa with only her eyes visible she and Afsar approached the club premises. Due to the Government's search for ethnic votes by funding for minority groups the Pakistani refugees had managed to obtain a peppercorn rent 100-year lease on an old, disused suburban movie theatre and it had been converted into its present use. A win win situation. Spend some taxpayers dollars and make an ethnic new arrival group happy and shore up their votes for the next election.
In the poorly lit street, Asma took one of her husband's hands and ran in over her upper thigh. She heard his gasp and her other hand reached for his groin feeling the instant growth in his cock as he felt the garter belt attached to her stockings. A 9 inch lump of meat, which was small compared to the big black cock she had seen on the net, but not even those could match its Champagne bottle circumference or the amount of seed his balls could hold. Now his hand moved to her tit where he traced the shape of a hard nipple as she wore a quarter cupped bra, and it was accessible through the Burqa material. She extended a leg and raised her floor-length buqa to reveal her high slut-heels.
Afsar had expected it to be a normal annual meeting. Some formalities, a thank you and then a vote to re-elect him unopposed as President. But he had walked into an ambush: a coup he had no idea was planned. Member after member spoke, their wives and daughter sitting beside them dressed not in a burqa or even a full-length chador or abaya. Yes, they wore a hijab on their head and shoulders, but they also wore Western-style clothing. It was an orchestrated attack on Afsar saying he was too much of a traditionalist and had not changed in the new country and unless a change occurred the club was dead and finished.
Afsar slumped beside Asma, defeated. It was his club. He was the man. He had not expected this, was unprepared and as each speaker finished his shoulders and head dropped lower and he held his head in his hands. It was his turn to speak but he did nothing. The moderator was about to close the session and call for a vote when Asma stepped forward. Immediately there was uproar with members calling on the moderator to forbid her speaking as she was a woman. Asma shouted them down saying they wanted to remove tradition, well here was a chance. Allow a woman who was attending university, (though she omitted the fact that it was a third-rate university where unemployed ethnic groups were "directed" to lower the unemployment figures), to speak. Eventually, Afsar's opponents, convinced they had the numbers and nothing she could say would change that, magnanimously allowed her to speak.
"You accuse my husband of being too bound up in traditions, yet nothing could be further from the truth."
She was interrupted by the crowd. "Look at you. You are wearing the full Burqa,' and similar comments.
"Yes, I am wearing the Burqa, but this is how my husband demands I dress all the time. At home and outdoors." She ripped off her Burqa and stood before the crowd of 250. "Look and judge." Asma walked to the seated audience tottering on her slut 7-inch black platform heeled shoes. Her legs were encased in black stockings, far higher than normal stockings and attached by a very short strapped black garter belt that would allow even a mini skirt to be worn. A matching minuscule thong and quarter cup bra that fully exposed her nipples completed her ensemble.
She pointed at various women. "Asali, what do you wear under your Western dress? What about you, Memona? Shaima, you wear a mini here tonight. Show your lingerie. Is there any woman who can match how my husband wants me to dress?"
There was silence until Daumaa stood up. She was 18 and the daughter of Hamza who had been one of Afsar's fiercest critics and she walked down to stand beside Asma. She was a little shorter than Ama's 5 ft 7, younger and more attractive and when she removed her body fitting cocktail dress her white thong and sheer bra revealed a taut body with pert 32B tits.
"I guess this proves what you are doing is nothing special, and just in case you have doubts, Mum come down here."
Her mother Jinari was the same age as Asma, but there the similarity ended. She was short at 5 ft 1, a study 135 pounds with a 40DD 38 44 body encased in a navy-blue mid-calf length tight dress and blazer with a white blouse. She removed her blazer and blouse to reveal a Japanese JAV porn style elaborate lace bra and wriggled out of the skirt displaying that she wore no panties just a huge patch of cunt hair. Close up Asma could see panty lines which showed she had removed her panties while her daughter was taking centre stage. But that detail was too far away for the crowd to see. She looked at Asma, pointed at her tits then removed her Japanese bra. Her huge melons flopped out and she flaunted them to the crowd. But that was only the teaser. In the centre of her 4-inch areolae were 2-inch teats. Nipples would not be the word to describe them. These were teats and slightly smaller replicas of those of a milking cow.
Asma was beaten. Daumaa and her mother Jinari had called her bluff in front of the crowd and won. But then Daumaa couldn't help herself. "Sometimes the old traditions have their use. Just like Rudi Giuliani called up the old ways for Trump, let my mother and me show that Asma is a fake, all talk and no substance. My mother and I will sexfight her to prove that."
Her mother took over, "First to make the other cum 3 times wins."
"No," her daughter said ignoring her mother's head shake and glare, "Let's make it last longer and humiliate the bitch. 12."
All Asma could do was go along with it and hope that it was over quickly or that a miracle happened. She had to make the mother and daughter cum 12 times in total while they rotated, and she faced a fresh rested opponent who only needed to make her cum 12 times with no respite between cums. Of course, if one of them came 6 times then that half of the duo could no longer participate, but smart tagging would cover that. As she expected Daumaa took the action first after all 3 women had stripped ready for combat. Asma and the lean, pussy shaven 18-year-old locked into 69 and the action began. It was obvious that Daumaa had eaten pussy before as not only did she use her tongue on Asma's pussy she used her hands to work on her nipples. Nevertheless, Asma's sex with Ai, plus her actual doubles sexfights as Ai's partner against a Vietnamese combination, held her in good stead and after about 8 minutes Asma tasted hot juice in her mouth and heard Daumaa scream as she came.
Jinari yelled at her daughter to tag, but her daughter's pride pride took over and she ignored it and continued against Asma. She was concentrating on long lingual strokes of Asma's cunt which finished with a tongue flick of Asma's clit and her concentration on one thing paid off as at the 15 minutes mark Asma could no longer stand the incessant, arousing eating of her slit. Her hips shuddered, she screamed a long "Nooooooooooooooo," and registered her first cum. Success went to Daumaa's head. She relaxed and Asma pounced taking the 18-year old's clit totally in her mouth, immobilising it with her teeth and raking it repeatedly with her tongue. Caught off guard the teenager quickly came again making the score 2 to 1 in Asma's favour, but this time she obeyed her mother's screams and tagged.
The first thing Asma noticed was Jinari's confidence. She didn't look worried as she rolled her rotund body and Asma, not into 69, but a face-to-face dual. Asma soon found out why as the mother forced her tongue into Asma's mouth. It was like a lizard's, long and flexible yet at the same time shaped similarly to a dog; broad and strong. She overpowered Asma's tongue battering it aside and forced hers towards the back of her opponent's throat threatening Asma's gag reflex. While Asma was frantically trying to defend this attack Jinari had manoeuvred her 22-pound heavier body completely on top of the 113-pound Asma, physically semi controlling her. Her 40DD tits had flattened Asma's and her 2-inch rock hard teats had painfully forced Asma's thinner 1-inch nipples back into her flattened pancaked tits. To complete the manoeuvre, she was tribbing Asma's slit with her own from above, the preferred position for success.
Rocking her hips from side to side the mother parted Asma's cunt lips and then spread them wider and wider, all the time forcing her pussy into Asma's open cunt. Their clits engaged and although Asma was proud of the size of hers, she knew instantly, just like her nipples, she was outclassed. Jinari's clit was larger than hers. She gave a despairing gasp and looked up into the Pakistani mother's smiling face. "Enjoy it, bitch because I am going to do you slowly. Here is a taste," hissed Jinari, "And the crowd will be watching."
Somehow, Asma didn't know how, Jinari vibrated her swollen clit without moving her hips. It was muscle control alone. Asma's body reacted to this with her clit soon throbbing in arousal as it neared orgasm. She knew she would cum within 30 seconds. She couldn't stop Jinari's clit mastery, and the heavier woman had her pinned with her tongue still threatening her throat and potential gagging and her teats forcing Asma's inverted nipples back into her flattened mounds and defeated nipples.
Then the clit manipulation stopped. She looked up into Jinari's face for an answer. She saw complete confidence. The clit work started again. Jinari's huge love bud vibrated, flicking against Asma's once again building her to orgasm. Again, it stopped then resumed. Asma realized the overweight Pakistani was toying with her, letting the audience see and hear via Asma's groans Jinari's total control of her. Then suddenly Hazma's wife struck like a snake. Asma was expecting her to build up to near an orgasm then stop but she kept going, even increasing the speed of her muscle-controlled clit stimulation. Asma's body stiffened, and her heels drummed the floor. A long groan was drawn from her as she came, her pussy spewing cum into Jinari's cunt to make it 2 all (Asma 2, Daumaa 2).
