Desired Outcome

Copyright © 2011, Surt, ALL Rights Reserved.

Everyone involved in this story is over the age of 18. Feedback is always appreciated and replied to. Thanks for reading and enjoy!

***

Ch.01: Everyone In America Does It

Yumi Shibata was a professional martial artist who'd retired after giving birth to her son, Akira. She had no contact with the boy's father – himself a champion fighter – choosing to raise him on her own. When her son came of age, she trained him to fulfil his potential in her self-styled Shibata karate. Her and her son lived in the countryside, in a little stone-cottage house on Yakushima Island, just the two of them. Normal as this all may seem, there is a little supernatural side note to consider: since birth, Akira has had a powerful demon slumbering inside him. Akira is not aware of this demon, though his mother is...

To make some extra money, martial arts expert Yumi agreed to teach the son of a local U.S diplomat. His name was Mike. Mike joined Akira in his lessons, which Mike enjoyed greatly. The secrets of Shibata-style karate did interest him – but not as much as Yumi Shibata did. An alien kind of beauty, the first hot Asian woman he'd ever seen, Yumi's toned, gorgeous figure, unique oriental look, and of course, her large breasts had him coming back for more and more, despite all the punishment he took sparing with demon child Akira. Though a fierce fighter, Akira was, for the most part, subdued, innocent and quite naïve, having never ventured out of his tiny village.

Training took place outside Yumi's house, in her garden, in front of her two students. Yumi's combat attire did much for Mike; all she wore was a white headband, a matching white sports bra with white shorts. During a training session, while Yumi demonstrated her windmill kick on a dummy, Mike noticed that Akira too didn't have all his focus on the fighting demonstration.

Yumi got the dummy on the ground, wiped the sweat of her brow and said: "Ok boys; watch what I do with his arm.

Yumi's heaving breasts had drawn Akira's attention. If his demon-trigger worked, he would've had those tatas toasted.

"Akira, your face is so red, are you ok?" she asked.

"I'm ok, I'm ok."

Though they spoke in Japanese, Mike had picked-up on Akira's behaviour. Every now and then, Mike would spot Akira's gaze shifting towards his mother's T&A, he knew for certain that Akira was checking out his very own hot mother.

"Okay, that enough for today," said Yumi, "Well done, both of you."

Mike bowed. "Thank you, Miss Shibata."

She nodded and went back inside her house. Once she was gone, Mike dashed towards Akira.

"Hey, your mom is pretty cool."

"Ah, umm, yes," replied Akira with his rudimentary usage of the English language. He grabbed his broom and swept the garden.

"Hey, how old is she?"

"Ah, umm, thirty, thirties, I think."

"Oh, ok...she's in, you know, pretty good shape."

Akira nodded. "Yes, she, umm," he raised his arms up-and-down, "she exercise a lot. Yes."

"Very, very good shape...yeah."

Akira smiled and nodded.

"What kind of clothes does she wear when she exercises?"

Akira scratched his head. "Umm, clothes like that."

"Wow, and do you join her?"

"Hmm, yes, yes, sometimes."

"Wow...man, you're so lucky."

"Lucky?"

"Yeah, dude, your mom is hot!"

Akira laughed. "Hahaha, sorry, sorry, my English not great. Hot like...weather?"

"No, no, hot like in, you know, sexy, good-looking."

More nervous laughter from Akira. "Ok, ok, hahaha, no talk like that about my mother, ok? Or we may, you know," he shrugged, "have to fight."

Mike backed away, waving his arms. "No, no, no! No fight! No fight, I don't want to fight, we're friends, we're just talking like friends. It's ok for friends to talk like this."

"Ok, ok, but please, don't say, umm, not nice things about my mother."

"Oh of course, of course, and I'm not saying dirty things about her, oh no, I think she's great, she's awesome, I just...admire her, you know?"

"I think so, yes I think I understand."

Mike stepped forward, looked around and lowered his voice: "Hey, just between us two, just between friends, be honest with me: Do you admire her, too?"

"Oh, me? No, no, so wrong, no, no."

"Come on, I saw you checking her out, come on, be honest."

Akira's cheeks turned bright red. "No, no I don't." he looked down at the ground.

Mike put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Come on, it's ok to admit it. Where I come from, all the guys openly talk about their good looking mothers'"

"Really?"

"Yeah, all the time, all the time, they have like meetings, clubs and everything, so come on, it's cool to admit it if you think she's hot."

He pondered while looking at the ground, formulating his response. "Umm...i-i-i...admire her like you do, yes, yes."

Mike was a little stunned; he didn't think Akira would actually admit it: "Cool, yeah cool...So, come on, you gotta tell me how she looks naked!"

Akira shot him a look which got Mike's very soul to shiver.

"Or m-m-maybe not."

"I, umm, not see her naked, but she should be in shower now."

"Oh! Ever peeked?"

"No, I thought about it...but no, too shame, too shame to peek."

"Right...So what'd you mean when you 'thought about it?'"

"There no lock, easy to get in."

"Really? God damn, let's do it now! Come on, let's do it!"

"No, no, no."

Mike was holding Akira's arm and trying to drag him inside the house. Despite being older and taller, Mike couldn't get Akira to budge. "Come on! She's naked! I wanna see! I wanna see!"

Akira finally relented. "...Ok we look. But if we get caught: you get blame."

***

The boys' tip-toed back in the house, making sure to take their shoes off. Once inside, the teens got more fired up, the hissing of the shower hinting at the wonders inside that bathroom. Akira grabbed the boiling hot knob, turned it and opened the door as quietly as he could. The shower sounds got louder when they crawled inside. Akira led Mike behind a nearby cabinet, still neither teen lifting their head to take a look.

"What now?" asked Mike.

"I, umm..."

"You don't know? Come on! How do we get a look?"

"Umm, raise head very, very slowly."

"Ok."

Both guys got on their knees and lifted their heads to take a look. They gasped, as what they saw drove their young minds mad with lust.

Her round breasts, wet nipples, soap running down her gorgeous milky skin, it was all so much to take in – especially for Akira. When she grabbed her razor, getting it wet for some vaginal grooming, right then she felt it: her son's aura. She turned her head, gasped, held her tits and said, "Son! What are you doing!?"

Akira stood still, panicking, everything happening so fast: Admitting his mother was hot, seeing her naked, her catching him. Like a windmill kick, he looked for the nearest target.

He pointed at Mike. "Him! He forced me to!"

***

Ch.02: Never Have Ice Cream Before Dinner

Yumi covered her breasts with her right arm and put her left hand over her bushy vagina.

"Boys! Explain yourselves!"

"He made me do it, Mother," replied Akira. "He made me!"

Now when your son has the power of a demon inside him, it's pretty unlikely that a spindly little human boy can convince him to do anything he doesn't want to do.

"Akira, I know you're lying! You should be so ashamed of yourself, I'm your mother!"

Akira bowed his head. "Sorry Mother, sorry."

"Both of you, out, now!"

Akira ran out of the room while Mike took his time admiring Yumi's impeccable, gorgeous wet body.

"Now!" she said to the perverted American preteen.

Mike rushed out and shut the door behind him. Akira, still despondent, sulked in the corner.

"Hey, come on man," Mike patted his pal on the back, "She'll understand that you were just curious, that you've never seen a naked woman before. Hell, you can't help it that your mom has the best body in this whole damn forest! There you go, that's your excuse, be cool, she won't mind when you explain, everything's going to be fine! Come on, relax, ha-ha."

Young Akira remained gloomy. "But she so mad...Mike, I not happy with you."

Mike – quaking in his boots at the prospect of facing a lightning uppercut – tried further to pacify the situation.

"Hey, come on! This is what guys our age do, everyone in America does this."

"Really?"

"Yeah, sure, all the time, guys peek at their moms, like, everyday, you know, it's like a tradition. I did it all the time, my friends peeked at my mom, I peeked at their moms, it's normal teen behaviour! Akira, come on, a mom like her? Pssh! How can she not expect you to be peeking at your age? You gotta stand up for yourself, you should, yeah. I say this as your friend, you'll be fine, come on, relax."

"Relax, yes, thank you."

The teens stood quietly while waiting for Yumi to come out of the shower. Whilst she got dressed, Mike asked Akira his own burning question.

"Akira, hey, as friends, you can tell me this and it will be just between us: What'd you think of your mom's naked body?"

Akira smiled sheepishly. "Umm, ahh, very good, very good."

"Aren't her tits just the greatest?"

Akira's English was rusty; he didn't exactly get what 'tits' meant, so he just nodded.

Finally, Yumi emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her dripping wet body.

"Do you want to try explaining yourself?" she said to Akira.

Akira replied confidently: "Mother, I was just doing what all the guys in America do. I wanted to see how a woman's body is and I did. You look nice, I liked what I saw, your body is nice, very nice!" he grinned, pleased with his response. He looked to his friend and then looked at his mother. "Ok, Mothe –"

With a mighty whack of lighting, Yumi slapped her disobedient son across the room. Mike fell on his ass when he felt her powerful fighting aura released, the air around her crackling, sparks flying through the air.

"Akira: that is nonsense!"

Yumi stood steaming for a little while, then took a deep breath, held her towel and went to her son. She kneeled down and caressed his cheek, her heavenly powers healing him in an instant.

"It's very rude to spy on naked women, very rude!"

Akira nodded. "Yes, Mother."

Yumi stood up and walked over to Mike.

"I'm so, so sorry Miss Shibata!

"Stand up!"

"Yes Ma'am." Mike got to his feet.

"Akira, come here, now."

Akira stood across from Mike, Yumi between the two teens. She adjusted her towel and spoke: "Now, you know what you did was very, very wrong, yes?"

"Yes," they said in unison.

"Good, you should know it very bad to peek at women, very bad, rude, disgusting and dirty."

"Yes."

"But...because of this I have learned something new about the two of you."

Both teens were confused by that statement.

"Akira, you got really aroused when you saw my body; your power was so immense when I felt you looking at me...be honest, tell me how you felt when you saw my naked body?"

"Umm...excited, happy, tingly."

"Yes...so, to feel like that again, you want that?"

"Yes, Mother."

"Hmm," Yumi pondered for a moment, "How about, perhaps, if you knew you'd feel like that after you a won a fight, do you think that would make you a better fighter?"

Akira nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes, I know it would."

Mike – who had no clue what Akira and Yumi were talking about as he didn't understand Japanese – cut into their conversation and asked, "Umm, Miss Shibata, will I be punished? Please don't tell my dad!"

Yumi shook her head. "Don't worry Mike, I won't tell your father. Consider what you saw as training, ok?"

"Ok, yeah! Cool!"

Yumi addressed both teens: "Ok, you two go outside and have a training battle."

Mike didn't like the sound of that. "Oh, Ma'am, I don't think I could fight, I'm sore and tired –"

"The winner gets to suck on one of my tits."

Suddenly, a surge of courage entered Mike's body, his chest so tight that he could barely breathe. He wiped the sweat of his brow, said, "Yes! Yes!" and rushed outside.

Akira, not knowing what exactly 'sucking' and 'tit' meant, looked dumbfounded.

Yumi got her fingers under her left breast and gave it a little jiggle. "Akira, if you beat Mike, you get to suck on my breast."

"Really Mother? Wow! I'll try my best!"

"Now don't go easy on Mike, he may not look that strong but he's taller, older and must've been in many real fights while in America. Give it your all, Son."

Akira took his shirt off. "Osu!" He then rushed outside for battle.

Outside in the breezy light wind, with the summer sun sweltering under them, the teens got ready for the fight for the teat! Mike knew he was outmatched, but to him the promise of ripe Japanese melon sizzling in his mouth was a massive motivator. Akira was, of course, also eager to win.

Yumi acted as the official. "Ready? Fight!"

Akira crouched down, dashed and hit Mike with a bone-crunching fist to the stomach. Mike felt it before he saw it, his innards blasted, everything going bright, then dark, so dark. He fell down on the ground, knocked unconscious. 'K.O!' This wasn't going to Round Two.

Akira looked down at his fallen friend.

"Oh he's ok, he's ok. Akira, you want your reward now?"

Yumi peeled down her towel to reveal her glistening breast. Round, bouncy and creamy-coated, with the prime piece in the middle: an erect pink nipple.

Akira stood eye-level with his prize.

"Go on, hold it."

He got steady his small, clammy hand, slowly arched his hand forward, a jolt ringing through his body when his tips got to the soft cushiony surface.

"Go on Son, all the way."

He clamped the tit with his whole hand, digging his fingers into the supple core, the feel of it setting off his trigger. A bright purple aura hovered around him, a finite amount, yet still quiet potent. Yumi put her free hand on her son's cheek and soothed his raging demon, the aura evaporating.

"Put your mouth around it, go on."

Yumi led her son's face towards herself, pushing him closer, closer, his hot breath getting warmer, warmer, till she felt his lips suckling.

"Hmmm!" Yumi arched her head back in pleasure. "Akira, Akira, lick it like an ice cream cone."

On went his tongue, licking the nipple of his mother with thunderous power behind each up-down-movement. Yumi felt a strong degree of ecstasy, her legs struggling to stay balanced, while for Akira it was a sensation so alien yet wonderfully desirable. Though as much pleasure as she knew was being given and received, Yumi knew she had a job to do. She stepped back and released her soaked breast from her son's waggling mouth.

"That will be all."

"Aw, can I have some more, please, Mother?"

"You will earn more of that!"

Akira nodded with a fierce look of determination in his eyes. "Yes!"

Yumi Shibata had found a great way to motivate her champion son – and she was going to use her newfound motivation technique to lead her son all the way to the top.

***

Ch.03: Bubbles

The next day, afternoon, another sunny day in Yakushima...

Yumi, wearing a bra-less white tank top and white combat slacks with her trademark white headband, was walking around her house as normal, as if nothing had happened. Akira sat on the floor and watched.

"Mother?"

"Yes?"

"Can I suck your breast again?"

"No," she said while she continued to sweep the floor, "You know you're not to speak of that unless I say so, also you're not to tell anyone about our little arrangement – not a soul."

"Yes, Mother."

Just then, a huge thud could be heard from the door. Akira peeked out the window and saw a suit-clad, dark haired, tall, middle-aged white man repeatedly slamming his fist onto the door.

"Come on out now dammit!" he hit the wood with fiery rage. "Open this door, now! Your son broke my son's sternum!"

Yumi calmly removed her pants, placed them on the couch, then rubbed the inner parts of her legs, giving her thighs a sweaty warm glow.

"What're you doing, Mother?"

"Just you watch, Son."

Yumi opened the door. Right then, in a flash, the rage flowing from this man was evaporated as he gazed upon this gorgeous angelic Japanese beauty.

"Is something...wrong?" she asked while tactfully tugging on her tank top, her glistening breasts shinning under the red-hot sun.

"Ahh! Yes, yeah, yes Miss Shoebata"

"What matter, Sir?"

As she spoke she had placed her left hand by her thigh, breezing her fingers past her scarcely visible camel-toe, tapping, grazing, taking the wheel and driving his imagination to a cherry blossom filled with vestiges of delight.

"Well, Ma'am, your son and my son had a little fight and your son went a little too far and hurt my kid."

She let out a light giggle. "Sorry, English not great. Fight like?" she started showing off her jab, letting her breasts jiggle with each motion. "That fight?" Yumi was deliberately concealing her true grasp of the English language, thinking – and rightfully so – that playing the cute, endearing engrish speaking Asian woman would appeal to his western sensibilities.

He nodded while rubbing his handkerchief over his forehead. "Yes, just like that, just like that."

"Oh I so sorry, so sorry. Akira, come here."

Akira rushed to the doorway.

"Akira, say you sorry."

He looked the man right in the eyes. "Sorry," he said with a straight face.

"That's fine, yeah, it's ok, nothing to fret over, guys will be guys, haha, you know."

She nodded. "Thank you, Sir."

"No, please, call me David."

"Thank you, Day-vid," she giggled, "Sorry, I say name right?"

"Perfect, perfect. Hey, let me pay you for that last session you had with my son."

"Oh no, no! Your son hurt, no it ok, you no pay."

"Please, please, let me," he dug into his expensive trouser pockets, produced a large roll of cash notes and flicked through it, literally flashing the cash. "Let me see, hmm, ok this covers the session and a little extra for any trouble I may have caused. I'm so sorry if I caused you any distress."

Yumi took the money and gave him a big smile. "Thank you very much."

"It's not a problem, not at all," while putting the cash back in his pocket, his business card slipped; caught by the wind, it landed on Yumi's foot.

She picked it up and gasped. "Oh my! Vice-President of Rochefort Enterprises, really?"

David Rochefort stood up straight, living up to his title. "Yes, yes I am. I've come to Yakushima to examine some possible oil fields."

She grabbed his hand. "Please, please David, come in."

Eager David kicked off his shoes and came right inside their quaint little house.

Once inside, Yumi bent down and gave the money to Akira; a totally transparent way to let David get a look at her round succulent behind. David stepped back, feeling a sharp, rising pain in his pelvis region.

While David admired, Yumi plotted. She whispered into her son's ear: "Akira, take this money, go into town, buy some sweets, toys, have fun and don't come back till dinner time."

Akira, confused but obedient, nodded and agreed, "Ok, Mother."

He headed for the door. The last thing he saw before departing was his mother slipping of David's jacket.

***

It was early-evening; Akira was sitting on a grassy field, thinking about his mom. She'd never allowed him to go into town on his own, let alone letting him spend an exorbitant amount of time by himself. He couldn't think of any reasons why she'd send him away, though he did picture his mother in her tank top and panties, her bare legs, sexy large breasts and dig-your-face-in ass, all stuck in his memory. The thoughts got him so wound up that he had to have a long 'relieving' session in the woods.

Eventually, having run out of things to do (like most demonically-possessed teenagers, Akira didn't care much for sweets and toys) he took his pocketful of money and made the journey home. It was earlier than his mother had told him to come, but he didn't think she'd mind.