Desired Outcome Pt. 02

"We fight," he said while performing push-ups.

"What? Come on! Here? Seriously, you had a frigging crowd of thousands watching you two go at it: Dude, save it for pay-per-view!"

Akira shook his head. "No, we fight for...good, good prize."

"Money? Not Dad's money?"

"No, no, no, not money."

"What then?"

"...Uhh...joy."

"Joy? Well, I don't know, guess it's a Japanese thing. Well, bro, I'm here to help, but I won't get hurt."

Akira gave a half-smile. "No, I never hurt you again, you my friend."

"Your friend? Come on! I'm your brother, get it right! Now let's get you throwing some jabs, come on!"

*

Around 3pm, Yumi woke up, looked outside her window, and saw that Akira was training feverishly, gritted determination on his face as he ran down the field with a heavy bag over his shoulders, back-and-forth, his sweat filling the air with heat.

Half-asleep Yumi opened her window and saw Mike down below.

"Mikey, what Akira doing?" she asked from her high vantage point.

"Ohh!" Mike gave her his full attention when he saw her: Yumi was wearing a tight white t-shirt, her burgeoning boobies looking very snug indeed.

"Uhhh... he's training for a fight with Robert!" he shouted in response.

"Oh," so dulled were Yumi's senses that she saw no danger forthcoming, unable to see any of the immense spiritual pressure that Akira was exuding. Concluding that her son and his friend were just going to have a little boy practice match, she said the following:

"Make sure he eat something."

"Okay, Mama! –" thankfully, Yumi didn't hear Mike's Freudian slip; she was too busy thinking about her bubble bath.

Later, at 7pm, Akira was resting against a tree, eating a pre-match snack, a towel around his shoulders, Mike taking the corner man role:

"All right bro, you go for the fake, then a one-two, one-two combo, hit him with a good overhand left, bam, kick the legs out from under him, get on top, and ground and pound him!"

David had just arrived back home, and saw his boys sitting on the field.

"Hey, guys, what's going on?" he asked.

"Not much," replied Mike, "Yeah, Akira and Robert are just going to have a practice fight."

"Oh okay," he said without knowing that this 'practice fight' was to be much more dangerous and full-on than most actual brawls. "Well, you kids come in when your mom tells you to."

"Okay, Dad," said Mike.

Akira nodded blankly as he ate his rice cake, busy inside his own mind, visualizing the fight, the situations, and his desired outcome.

When they first fought, the size difference between Robert and Akira was negated by Akira's weight advantage : Robert was taller (5'9) yet lankier (125lbs), while Akira was shorter (5'6) yet stronger (142lbs). Now, Akira's weight advantage had been lessened as Robert had added mass to his frame, going from 125lbs to 135lbs. Akira, at 144lbs, had his only advantage pretty much negated: all he could do was out-skill his taller foe. Furthermore, the stakes had been upped by a significant amount: their prize, what they were fighting for, was the expert talents of Penthouse's Miss April of 1997, Helena Roberts. It was set to be a titanic clash of the perverted, horny teen titans.

*

8:50pm, a chilly dark night, Akira and Mike in a little huddled corner in the garden. Akira was in deep meditation, able to listen to a voice that had comforted him before all his big fights.

"Win, win at all costs, beat him, beat him bad. Win, win that prize, have it, it's yours. Helena, Helena, Helena, Helena, Hell –"

"Akira?" Mike woke his brother up from his trance.

"Oh? Time?"

"Yeah, come on, let's do this."

Meanwhile, inside the house, Yumi had got herself seated on the couch, alongside Helena, enjoying some Home Improvement.

"Oh I like this show," said Helena, "I remember my cousin pulling his little pecker out and doing the nasty when Pammie came on screen."

Yumi smiled and nodded. "I see."

"So where your man at?" asked Helena.

"He in office, alone. He say he has to lock door to work because if he is around me for too long..." Yumi blushed.

"God damn you're such a naughty little Asian gal, aren't ya? Real naughty girl....Hey, you know where our boys at?"

"Oh they outside, practice fight. You know what that is?"

Helena smirked. "Oh, that? Nothing, just lil' boys stuff. They're professionals, it's what they do, you know. We should not interrupt or do nothin', you know."

Yumi nodded while remaining transfixed on the screen. "Mhhm. Yes."

Helena had her eyes elsewhere: Yumi's breasts. Yumi's tight, cleavage-bearing shirt had her money-makers looking exceptionally fine that night. Helena nudged closer and spoke into Yumi's ear:

"Now I'm not a member of the rug-munching squad, apart from maybe one or two wild nights where liquor was involved, but I just gots to say, as a totally he-toro sexual woman: I want milk from your boobies."

Red-faced Yumi put her hand over her mouth and giggled. "Helena! Oh my!"

"Girlfriend you better check if yo' man ain't put a deposit in your belly! I've never seen boobs so full and ripe, and, oh," Helena poked the side of Yumi's breast, "So soft and squishy!"

Yumi put her hands over her breasts while hysterically laughing. "Helena, hahahaha, stop, please!"

Helena put her hands up, "I'm just sayin' it how I see it...Hey, Yumi, let's talk, like gals do, talk about sex, men, sex, men, sex, men, sex, men, shoes and sex. Keep your attention on me, talk to me, forget about everything else around you, let's just talk like sisters do!"

Yumi nodded. "Okay, that sound like fun."

*

Back outside, Akira approached the battlefield, Robert already waiting, looking mean and angry in his blood red shorts. Akira, shirtless and in his flame-print fighting pants, stared down Robert, both feeling the same aura of sexually-motivated aggression.

They walked to the middle and touched gloves.

"Good fight," said Robert.

"Hai," Akira nodded.

Mike led the two to opposite ends of the field, both walking exactly seven paces away. Mike could feel a hot, heavy air in the middle, it burning, burning hotter with each passing second

"Okay? Ready?" said Mike, the hot air going deep into his lungs. "Uhhh, fight!"

As soon as Mike uttered the "t" in fight, Robert dashed forward, rolled his hand into a fist, and smacked Akira in the face with a rock-hard punch. Akira fell on the floor, then got right back up, dazed, hurt, his cheek red and throbbing, his senses a mess – and then it came again. Wham, wham, wham! Left-right, left-right, left-right, six hard lighting-packed punches to the face, sparks flying out Robert's hands. Through this punishment, Akira somehow remained standing.

"What!?" Robert laid another barrage of fists on Akira's face, and yet he stayed on his feet – though not of his own accord. Akira wobbled left and right, everything spinning as he attempted to unscramble his brain. Even though lucid thought was far away from his mind, Akira knew the reason why Robert had the upper-hand: the motivating powers of his sex machine mother Helena: it was indeed a powerful force. After another brain-rattling smack to the face, Akira finally figured out that he had to counter, so he saw Robert's next uppercut, ducked, grabbed his opponent's legs and took him to the ground. Looking for a rest, Akira didn't hit his foe; he just tried to keep him at bay. This didn't last too long, as Robert kicked Akira back, got right to his feet, and went back to laying in hard shorts to his sex-rival's cranium.

"Akira! Akira!" shouted Mike. "Come on, fight, come on!"

Akira couldn't hear his step-brother, all he could hear and feel was the pain melting all over his cheeks, bones, and mouth. It was crushing, hard, and unavoidable pain. Akira attempted another counterattack, going for an uppercut, grazing Robert, but then he stumbled and Robert went back to his crisp boxing.

"Stay down!" shouted Robert as his arms got heavier, his fists like two lugging, crumbling rocks that were being hit against the boulder that was Akira's face.

Akira then managed to lift his arms up to guard the punches, which were getting slower and slower by the blow. In this position, Akira slowly felt his senses dulling, his hearing filtering out, his pain melting, everything around him going dark, everything becoming black, as black as the night sky...then, a big bright purple flash came before him, taking him away from the fight.

"Wh-what?" he said as he opened his bleary eyes.

Akira looked around his new surroundings, deeply confused. He was at the front of a car, at the wheel, a narrow dirt road in front of him.

"Am I?"

"No," a deep voice spoke from the backseat.

Akira was startled. For some reason he couldn't turn to look behind him, just able to peer at the rear-view mirror: Akira saw a dark-suited, hat-wearing man-like thing, no facial features, just cloaked in darkness.

"I think I should be leading this vehicle," it said with a sinister hiss.

Akira looked again at the mirror, this time catching a glimpse of his own bloodied, beaten face.

"You really don't have a choice," said the creature.

Akira nodded. "Yes, I know...please, don't hurt him."

"That," the unknown entity put its hat over its face, "I just can't promise."

With a flash, their places had been switched. The thing got behind the wheel, Akira in the backseat. This creature then hit the exhaust, and sped them back to the fight...

Robert laid a big fist to Akira's face, and then instinctively stepped back as a burst of purple malevolence shot into the sky.

"Urrrrr," growled the beast that had charge of Akira's body.

Mike's mouth dropped when he saw a huge purple beacon shoot up, way, way up into the sky.

"What...what the hell is that!?"

Meanwhile, in the living room, Helena was explaining the rules to her self-created game.

"Okay, if you nod, like I'm doing now, your first time was a single-digit figure, okay? If you keep nodding, like I am, it was a mid-single-digit figure. So, okay, I'll start: was it double-digits?"

"Okay," Yumi rubbed her hands and got ready to nod – but before she did, a huge shiver went through her spine, and spilt itself midway to spread over her whole body, and then, she felt a huge dark feast of energy coming from outside: Yumi dormant senses had been forcefully jolted back to life.

"Hey, you okay, honey?" asked Helena.

Yumi didn't respond, because within a second, she knew the most horrible, worst outcome had happened for her son. She knew because she only ever felt this type of energy once: when her ex-husband conceived their child. Yumi jumped off the couch, leapt for the patio door, grabbed the handle, and almost tore it off as she rushed outside.

"No, no, no!" she said to herself as she saw her worst fear confirmed: a live, vivid energy beam rushing into the sky, she able to see her son's growling, menacing face. Yumi knew that the body of her boy was there– but something much more sinister had taken over. Yumi also knew she had only one choice – and only chance to do it: knock the demon back with her fist.

"Robert, Mike!" she shouted, "Run, run back!"

The demonically possessed Akira turned his head, looked out to the distance, saw her running, then, in a flash, she was gone. Where'd she gone? She'd seemingly disappeared into the wind. How'd she do that? How did she do that? The solution was simple: Up.

"Huuu?" the demon felt it before he saw it: Yumi's holy fist smashing against his face. The demon went out with one blow, falling to the ground with a thud.

"Akira!" Yumi got on her knees to check on her beaten boy. She checked his vitals, his heart; he was stable, alive, but not awake, and that was due to the demon. Yumi had been taught what to do if her boy ever got caught up with the demon: she had to forcefully remove the malicious evil from her son's body, pushing out all the evil energy right from its natural centre by using a technique most commonly known as fellatio.

"Is, is he okay?" asked Mike.

Yumi grabbed her son and put him over her shoulder. She could feel his stiff hard-on: he desperately needed his release so all that pent-up menace floating around him would disperse. Morality had no time to cry: she had to suck her son's penis – now. Yumi turned and dashed towards the house.

"Hey, what's all this brouhaha!?" asked Helena.

At that moment, Yumi felt like giving Helena a front kick right to her well-worn jawline...but didn't, her son mattered more. Yumi ran like the wind, going for the stairs, seeing her son's room as the best place to complete this ritual.

"Hey!?" said David. "Did I just see a fireworks show or something?"

Yumi ignored her man, ran into her son's room, shut the door, locked it, and threw her boy on the bed

"Oh I'm so, so sorry," she felt so guilty for letting this happen, blaming herself for not paying enough attention, letting herself weaken. She had little time for pity though: her boy was in need.

"I'm sorry." Yumi approached her son's bedside, grabbed the waist of his pants and pulled them down.

Boing!

Yumi immediately felt the scorching heat emanate from her son's member, it a deep shade of red, veins strong and thick, his erection at a level that looked both painful...and impressive.

Yumi sighed as she got on her knees, her left hand on her son's chest, her right clasped around his boiling member.

"Hmmmm...okay!" making peace with her duty, she opened her mouth, lowered it down, and put her son's penis inside it. Within first contact of tongue with tip, she felt a huge amount of sexual fury bursting out from his iron rod. Yumi stayed strong, weathering the storm and going right into full-on blowjob mode.

Yumi started with a simple rotation, keeping it rolling in her mouth, keeping it gentle and smooth. Slowly, she felt her son's body lighten, the evil energy being lifted by her warm, wet mouth. Feeling good progress was being made. Yumi accelerated her rotation, going in deeper, harder.

"Haaa..." Akira's breath had returned. It was small, faint, but further joy for the guilty mother.

"Ohhh, Son?" Yumi put her son's penis all the way into her mouth, keeping the rotation going, clasping her right hand tightly around it, giving her son's penis both a tug and suck.

"Haaa...Haaa." Akira thought he'd died and gone to heaven: in that numb state, all he could feel was a calming warm light wash all over him. As his mother continued delivering her oral medicine, Akira felt like he'd for sure passed over to the other side: he felt only peace, calm, joy, and unfiltered endless bliss.

Yumi carried on diligently, surprised at the rock hard resistance her boy's piece was giving. Feeling her son's hardness needed a melting solution, Yumi got the piece out of her mouth, got her tongue on the tip and licked, licked the flapping foreskin with the tip of her tongue, giving her son a shot of high-grade pow-pow-pow-pow. This gentle motion got the young fighter twitching back to life.

"Hmmm!?" Akira felt his senses kicking back in, just starting to hear and see again.

"Akira!" Yumi was pleased beyond words to see her boy coming back to life, so much so that she improved her oral delights, keeping a firm grip on her son's instrument as she bobbed her head in and out of her son's throbbing beast, really working the suction.

"Haaaaa!" Now awake, he looked at the pitch-black ceiling, and heard an odd suckling sound. The last he remembered he was on the losing-end of a beat down, now he was experiencing this amazing pleasure. Wondering what had happened, he pointed his eyes downward, and got a very, very welcome surprise.

"Ma-M-Mom?" he said in his shrill voice.

With her mouth still full, she placed her left index finger on her son's mouth, signalling for him to stay silent. He met with her request.

"Hmmm!" Yumi gave her son's member a big inhale of breath..."Ah!" and then released it. Yumi held on to his instrument with a tight grip, giving it a wet, hard, slippery tug. As she did, she looked at her son and spoke softly:

"Are you okay? Are you okay? I'm so, so sorry Son."

He nodded. "I'm okay..."

"This," she said referring to her hand and his wet soapy penis, "This is what I had to do to bring you back, but please, let me finish this, let me remove all of the badness."

He wasn't going to disagree. "Yes," he said as his mother's delicate fingers glided over his cock.

"Thank you, I promise this will never, ever, happen again." she leaned her face down, puckered up, and kissed her teen boy's winkie. "Promise.

"Ohhhhh yes. Oh, umm, yes, thank you." The tremendous beating seemed worth it now: this pleasure he was feeling far surpassed the pain.

The squishing and sucking continued in the steaming hot room, Yumi now simply amazed at the staying power of her son's fully charged erect penis: With her talents and blessed power, the most any man could take when her mouth came into play was a minute or two, but, with her son, she'd been sucking for five full minutes and only now felt signs of completion. Aiming to make her boy cum, Yumi gripped her son's cock with a tight grip and gave it a nice, hard deep-tissue massage.

"Ohhh!" his bones shivered as the super-combo of his mom's mouth and hand worked over his member. Akira's pain became immaterial, any dark remnants silenced as he took in the joys of this taboo sex act.

Yumi kept the pressure coming, feeling her boy was at least owed this treat. Even though all the badness was gone and all he needed was a good rest, Yumi still was aiming to finish him off – and not with a whimper, but an exhilarating hellfire blast.

"Sorry, I'm sorry," Yumi muttered softly as she maintained her lightning-quick pace, shaking the bed with her high-tempo technique, pushing herself forward while performing this sacred ritual. As she kept going, Yumi's sweaty, ripe breasts came into play, her protruding nipples grazing past her boy's pecker.

"Hmmmm!" this got his heartbeat back to where it needed to be, pumping red-hot blood into his veins.

"Akira," Yumi leaned over, towards her son's face, her breasts sliding past his chest, her warm sweat sprinkling down to his member.

"Ma, Ma," he said with his whimpering voice.

"Yes? Yes?" she said with her face next to his, lowering down to listen to his next instruction:

"Mom...please...boobs....my penis."

Any other day, Yumi would've kicked her son off a cliff for just having the gall to ask for some paizuri...but, on this day, he earned it.

"Yes, okay, okay Son!" Yumi got into position, pulled herself closer to the bed, lowered her chest, and put her son's penis between her heaving breasts.

"M-M-MOM!" he roared so loud that the house's very foundations were left shaking, indeed it was a titanic surge of energy: the power of his mother's boobs against Little Aki tore out, beat down and kicked out the sleeping demon, the purple haze fading away, absorbed by the holy goodness that was pouring out of Yumi. And, before she gets condemned for being a bad mother, it should be noted that she kept her shirt on during the tit-fucking: she knew enough to not give him everything...just yet. After a few tugs inside her money-makers, she lowered down her mouth and alternated between tugging and sucking, tugging and sucking.

"Yes, yes, yes!" he said happily, smiling, feeling the finish, feeling it coming hard, fast, screeching out of him at a rumbling pace.

"Ohhhh! Ohhh, ohhh, Mom!" Akira felt it, felt it all get ready, cocked, aimed, ready to fire at a speed and power he'd never felt before in his entire life. This wasn't Akira the demon child, nor Akira the motivated fighter, this was just a boy, a boy that was lying on his back as his mother gave him a hard, deep, body-rattling experience that he was never going to forget.