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.
The eighteen-year-old Pakistani refugee Fahad arrived home earlier than he had expected. He had gone to Ai's house ready for another marathon fucking session with his mother's forty-six-year-old Vietnamese friend, but it was not to be. The prearranged sign of the shoes on the front porch told him that Ai's eighteen-year-old daughter was home. His mind was full of thoughts: how he was turned on by the slut dressing exhibitionism of the Vietnamese mother, how she had taught him to fuck in ways he never knew existed or even imagined, how she wanted Fahad to turn her daughter Vy into a slut and then her sex slave, how she wanted to sexfight his mother Asma for some imagined slight, the weird stuff about her desire, aided by him, to fuck other women senseless and drained in order to take their sex energy. These were intertwined with thoughts in his mind of how Ai may have misjudged her daughter underestimating her horniness and the beginnings of a plan by Fahad to get the two to sexfight with both thinking that he wanted them to win.
As a result of his preoccupation with his thoughts, he was at first unaware that his mother, Asma, was not alone until finally loud noises from her bedroom brought him out of his trance. Specifically, a woman screaming in Iranian Fasi "I'm cuuummmiiinnng," followed by a violent drumming sound. Fahad rushed up the stairs to the open door and was greeted by the sight of his kneeling naked mother's arse. She was on top of, pinning down and burying her face into the cunt of another naked woman, presumably the Iranian, who was still screaming and thumping her heels into the wooden floor. As he watched, his mother Asma wriggled one arm under the naked woman and raising her arm, shrugged her leg behind her back. Then she dropped her face into the wider spread cunt and resumed her squelching lapping. Unseen, as his mother was facing away from him and the Iranian contorted face was fixed on the ceiling, and entranced by what he was watching, Fahad felt his cock stirring. Ai had told him she sexfought for bets against other Vietnamese women and that she would take him to watch her next fight, which would lead to eventually defeating in a sexfight, and then enslaving both Vy, her daughter, and his mother Asma, but this was the first sexfight he had witnessed.
Again the Iranian wailed a long "Nooooooooooo, cum cum cuuuuummmimng," and her body shook and shuddered as she came. His mother raised her head and screamed in Harzargi, the version of Iranian Fasi spoken by Hazara descendants from Afghanistan living in Northern Pakistan, "You are finished, you Iranian bitch. I lead four cums to one. Only need one more to take your topaz stud and send you back to being a trainee."
But the strength of the orgasm caused the Iranian to convulse so strongly that the upright, unbalanced Asma was shaken free from her top position and hit the floor heavily. Quickly the Iranian was on top of the stunned Asma and soon had her open and defenceless in a full restraint position. Asma was on her back with her legs bent to either side of her head. The Iranian body was pinning Asma's left arm and her bent legs to her chest. Asma's right arm was held to the floor by the Iranian women's left hand. Her right hand reached out, opened Asma's cunt and started playing with her love box. Soon Asma was grunting rhythmically, and the Iranian pulled her fingers out with a wet sloshing sound, examined them, and then wiped them across Asma's lips before returning them to Asma's slit. Asma's grunts became louder, and then they were accompanied by her involuntary hip thrusts until she screeched her orgasm. As it died the Iranian boasted, "Weak Pakistani slut. You thought you could beat Zeinab Esmail and take my topaz ear studs. Let me tell you I will be Prime Alpha of the VU3XB club while you are still a trainee."
She went back to work on a moaning Asma's cunt, her fingers frigging the clit far more rapidly than previously. In the hallway, Fahad was mind boggled. He was witnessing his first sexfight, plus there was all this stuff he didn't understand: Topaz studs, Prime Alphas, VU3XB club. What was it all? Then he focussed on Zeinab Esmail. her facial features, skin colour and strong dark wavy hair identified her as Iranian, and she looked to be in her early thirties. She had a far more voluptuous body than the tiny Vietnamese Ai but compared to his similarly proportioned mother it was toned and her grapefruit-sized tits, of course far larger than Ai's, did not hang like his mother but stood firm and proud on her body. She was not shaven like Ai but had trimmed her abundant bush into a heart starting about two inches above her thick-mouthed, long-hanging-lipped cunt. As if reading his thoughts, she spread her legs and the biggest clit Fahad had seen or imagined became visible.
Fahad's thoughts were interrupted by Asma's howl of her third cum thus causing the mathematically inclined Fahad to say to himself Zeinab had cum four times and now his mother three. Almost lazily Zeinab played with his mother's cunt saying, "Pakistani bitch, I'm going to do you slowly like roasting a goat. Make you plead with me to make you cum, fuck you dry and senseless. Make you always remember that Zeinab is a better woman than you. Show you that a woman of fine breeding like me who is a University Mathematics lecturer is a better, hornier, sexier woman than a peasant whore like you."
Seeing a finish to the contest nearing and not wanting to be seen by his mother, Fahad hurried down the stairs and was in the lounge when Zeinab descended the stairs accompanied by wails of despair coming from Asma's bedroom. First, he saw the black, extreme heeled shoes, then a long black stocking ankle and leg followed by a black pencil skirt split to high-thigh which revealed her garter belt straps. Looking up from the bottom of the stairs Fahad could see her naked cunt. He barely noticed the open, tailored, semitransparent camisole with the hard black nipples and areolae showing through. She saw Fahad and moved towards him, and her hand reached out to cup his groin contemptuously.
"Did you enjoy watching me beat your mother, little boyyyyy." Her voice tailed off then continued, "Oh Allah above, how big is the fuck meat you have?"
She quickly knelt down in front of Fahad and, to the sound of Asma's wailing floating down the stairs, hurriedly ripped the zipper down on his trousers, reached in and started to drag his swollen meat free of its constraints. In her hands she held the tip of his large one-eyed snake; a head twice as wide as the shaft starting below it and with thick stands of white fuck cream hanging from its semi-open eye. "Fuck," she said in a disappointed voice, "You've cum already."
Fahad shook his head. "No, that's precum from when I got horny watching you and mother."
"Allah be praised," she muttered as she reverently handled his hard and stiff fuck rod like a white-gloved researcher at a museum handles an ancient artifact. She released it from its prison and moaned as it stood proud, quivering slightly and pointing at her face. Eleven and a half inches of Pakistani meat with a pronounced curve upwards. Not over thick for its extreme length, but of course thicker than a normal-sized rod, the shaft had two long pulsing veins running along the top and one along its bottom. At the end of this rock-hard quivering fucking piston was its head which, as she watched, oozed further precum. Her tongue extended and pounced snaffling the strands of precum on the swollen mushroom head. She swallowed and then said to herself. "Allah, it tastes so strong, and shit, is it thick? It's like a normal man's cum." Her hand cupped one swollen ball jiggling it as though evaluating the amount of seed in it.
Looking up at Fahad she enquired his name and then looked coquettishly through mascaraed eyelashes and said, "Fahad what part of the fight made you horny?'
Fahad was determined to say nothing but suddenly his throbbing cock engulfed by a wet mouth with a tongue swirling the underside of his shaft betrayed him. He groaned and said, "When you had her beaten, but didn't finish her off but made her beg to cum."
She pulled her mouth off his cock and corrected him. "Make that your mother not her."
Ohhh Allaaaahh." His explanation was curtailed as with a quick movement of her head she had taken him so deeply he could feel his cock head pressed against the back of her throat and her hand gripping his cock against her lips. The Iranian slowly and sensuously withdrew his tool and then examined it "There is six inches above the hand that is mouth fuck, and I would guess five or six below the top of hand will be for throat meat. It is probably the biggest meat I've had, but we will measure later," she said, pointing to a tape measure tattooed on the inside of her forearm. "Now you were saying," and took the cock head in her mouth again.
Looking down at the lips encircling his cock head Fahad managed to say, "There was a lot. When you looked me in the eyes and put your arm around your forearm. Only later did I realise you were telling me you were going to fist her, no I mean, fist my mother. Uuunghhhh, that is so gooooood. And... and when... when you opened your legs and your clit popped free of its hood. So big. Much bigger than my mother's, and my mother's pussy hasn't got the sexy long hanging lips yours does." She purred her pleasure over his cock but then relented the slow torture and released his cock from her mouth, but Fahad couldn't stop. "And when you walked down the stairs. It's how a woman should look: proud, arrogant, sexy and slutty." He couldn't stop himself. "And that suspender belt. The straps are so short and very long stockings so you can wear them under short skirts. I bet it is made in Europe."
