Pakistani Asma Nasir Ch. 03

"Oh god... it feels so good!" she groaned to Asma who was curling her tongue around one wet, stiff bud, teasing it with her teeth. "Ohhh... Asma, please!"

Ai began to squirm. Now Asma slid down her squirming body, kissing her smooth midriff, caressing her narrow waist, her swelling hips, kissing the warm skin of her inner thighs, bringing soft, excited whimpers from Ai. The Vietnamese's pussy was puckered and very wet. Asma ran the tip of her tongue up and down the glossy brown edges of Ai's cunt lips.

"Ahh!" Ai gasped sharply, digging her fingers into her thighs, her pelvis shuddering excitedly.

Asma started slowly, making love to Ai, not just fucking her. Continuing to learn as she went, she licked and tongue-explored the wet pink cleft of Ai's slit for a long time, patiently avoiding Ai's clit, stroking the woman's tight butt with her fingers, slowly building the intensity, until Ai was quivering uncontrollably, and almost begging for relief.

"Oh! Ohhnnn... oh Asma... unh! Oh... please! Oh Asma, please!"

By the time Asma touched Ai's clit with the tip of her tongue, she was primed to explode, and it took only a few strokes for her to come quickly.

"Unghh! Ohnng! Auuggnhhh! Mmmnnggeee!" she cried out, arching her back, pumping spastically with her hips, cumming violently. Her lovely body undulated through several spasms of ecstasy, and Asma decided since she had come so quickly and easily, not to stop now. As soon as Ai's spasms waned, and her breathing grew easier, Asma began tonguing her pussy again, and gave tiny love-sucks to her clit, until a fresh, clenching orgasm shook her.

"Ohhnggn! Oh god! Oh... shit oh Asma... unhhh! Oh God, ahhnnieeee!" she moaned, cumming again, grabbing her small breasts and twisting them mercilessly in her hands as her body shook with bliss.

The fact she had made Ai cum twice amazed her, but she realized that Ai was in a sexual trance, and she couldn't resist the temptation to try to make her friend cum even more. She changed position with her mouth to Ai's breasts, and her hand back between the Vietnamese's yawning thighs. Her mouth swallowed one thick hard nipple, while she slipped two fingers up into the sopping-wet trench of Ai's pussy, scissoring Ai's clit between them as they sank in deep. She began fucking and sucking Ai more vigorously now, and somehow a slight, violent twitch from the Vietnamese alerted her. She had felt the same thing herself just before.

Could it be? Now she let her fingers inside Ai's tight, slippery pussy search the inner walls, until she felt Ai twitch again, her cunt muscles in a spasm. Yes! she thought. God, Ai, you're going to come so hard. She rubbed the G spot inside Ai's pussy, for that was what she had unknowingly found, with the tip of one finger. Ai's body stiffened, and then all the breath seemed to leave her as she erupted in a fierce string of orgasms. The spasms wrenched her body so wildly that her tit slipped out of Asma's mouth. A tiny, helpless mewling sound came from deep in her throat as wave after wave of rapture struck her. She had several orgasms in a row, though they all seemed to blend into one, and Asma could not believe what was happening or tell where the cums she had caused began or ended.

Ai's bed shook and banged against the wall, but both women were caught in the grip of sexual gluttony, and they continued pumping and thrusting furiously until both exploded in a firestorm of orgasms. It was an exhausting, exultant, and depraved climax to their evening of fucking, and both could barely lift a finger as the waves of ecstasy subsided.

They disentangled their bodies, still stunned by the shock of it, and Ai bent to kiss Asma's pussy tenderly, before embracing her face to face, hugging her tightly, murmuring in her ear.

"I wanted you so badly," she murmured. "So badly. But it was worth the wait."

"Oh god... Ai, I never knew it could be like this," Asma began to cry softly again. "I didn't know it could be like this," she sobbed.

Ai kissed her, a deep, emotional kiss. Asma stopped crying.

"I'm embarrassed," she said. "I didn't mean to cry. I guess I thought I would never feel like this, especially with my husband's lack of interest in me."

"I don't want you to leave."

"Mmmmm, I don't want to, either" replied Asma.

"Can you sleep here?"

"If I stay, we won't get much sleep."

"I won't let you," Ai grinned, rolling Asma onto her back again. "I can't get enough."

"Oh... Ai," Asma said softly, her eyes swirling again with desire. "How can I be feeling this way?"

Asma did stay, and they did end up fucking throughout the night. They slept, dozed, awoke, made love, slept again, made love again. By morning Ai had had many orgasms, and Asma even a few more.

Four days later it was Friday night. The wedding was at the Happy Receptions in Ascot Vale. It had originally been a movie cinema and so had 2 levels, with the upstairs higher price seating area having been converted into a complete second floor. This meant that 2 different weddings could be hosted simultaneously. To Asma, there was more female flesh on display than inside the rooms in Lahore's notorious red light, brothel district, Heeramandi.

Asma was poured into the micro black lycra nightclub dress that Ai had purchased for her and she had changed into at ai's house. Her body strained to break the tight material which constrained her full tits and clung to her belly. Her body shape and face were similar to Pakistan's first female prime minister, Benazir Bhutto. Her extreme high heels belonged to Ai's eldest daughter. She was bedecked in Ai's jewellery and clasped a genuine LV bag of Ai's. Asma clung close to Ai and looked around. If she was truthful with herself, she felt did not look out of place at this gathering. Her eyes were round and wide open as she took in the Vietnamese women in the old foyer brazenly flaunting flesh, no matter their age.

Personally, over the years I have observed that of all the Asian races, Vietnamese women placed greater emphasis on sensuality, femininity and being proud of being judged as a better woman. Even factory workers or women sewing at home on low piece rates were fashion proud and would not even go to the supermarket without wearing full makeup, painted nails, high heels and modern clothes. There was no place for fake jewellery: it had to be the real thing and big and expensive. They thought nothing of spending to look good. Thus, an invitation to a wedding was a chance to show off to other women, and most would be wearing revealing halter necks or translucent tops and dresses with the most exaggerated slits that the other Asian 'normal housewife' would be too embarrassed to wear in public.

Older women did everything to maintain their sexuality, before reluctantly finally accepting and dressing as a respected elder in a velvet, deep maroon coloured, looser fitting. traditional Ao Dai. The normal Ao Dai is it is a long, very tight, split, silk tunic dress worn over semitransparent, usually white, voluminous trousers. The split almost always reached above the waist. To be a Vietnamese woman meant defending your sexuality and doing anything to avoid losing face to another woman.

They lined up and waited for their traditional individual photo with the bride, Chau, and groom, Duy: a copy which would be later sent to them, nowadays emailed. Ai handed over a red envelope which then had her name written on it; a good way to ensure that there was a big money gift inside. Entering the lower floor reception room, Asma countered the tables. 100, each with ten chairs, so 1000 guests. Some of the guests must have been someone who lived in the same street as a distant relative and had been met once, she thought.

She experienced her first Vietnamese wedding. As Ai had predicted, two of the dishes on the set menu were Abalone soup and Roast Quail. To Asma, one tasted like rubber and the other was dried skin on bones. The third 'compulsory' dish, Lobster, she didn't mind. As she ate her way through the ten courses, she was able to enjoy the other things that were inevitable at a Vietnamese wedding. The three large screen TVs played the wedding video, although most of it had been recorded the day before with many retakes to capture the "spontaneity" of the occasion.

True to tradition, the bride Chau left the wedding table regularly to change outfits and return. A traditional, though sexed-up, Ao Dai was replaced by a western wedding dress complete with lace gloves that extended along her forearms, then by two different slut type nightclub dresses. Finally, the happy couple with Chau tottering on her extreme high heels visited each table to say thanks for coming and for the red envelope.

A man approached and spoke in Vietnamese to Ai. She turned to Asma. "Get up and come with me, we are both in the Best Outfit Contest.'

Despite Asma's protests she couldn't do this, couldn't parade in front of an audience Ai chivvied her along and soon she was standing in the lobby beside Ai along with 28 happy Vietnamese women and clutching a dinner plate with number 12 written with a thick sharpie on it. Ai explained she had to enter the dance floor, make two circuits of it and then stand with the others. All too soon it was her turn and Ai half pushed her out of the lobby. She walked stiffly her eyes to the floor but managed her first circuit of the dance floor. Surprised by the applause she managed her second circuit more confidently. But as she stood with those who had preceded her, she noted how Ai and the others revelled in their chance to parade before the guests.

As the 30 women stood in the group waiting to hear their fate Ai whispered to her that 8 of the 30 would be in the final. The man who had spoken to Ai called out numbers and suddenly Ai was gripping Asma telling her they were both in the final 6. She would have to do it again. As the 8 women grouped in the lobby Asma was astounded to see them shimmering out of their dresses.

"I can't do it Ai," she wailed.

"Of course you can. You are beautiful and it is an honour to be in the final 6. Don't let the Vietnamese here say you chickened out."

She continued her encouragement and reluctantly Asma slowly took off her skin-hugging cocktail dress. The cold air immediately stiffened her nipples as Ai had decided that a bra under her dress would ruin the look and when they had dressed and had produced a replacement. An L shaped device of stiffened material adhered to the skin under her tits and provided a shelf like support for them to rest on. She crossed her arms to cover her naked globes, but a glance showed 4 of the women had a similar bra replacement; the other 3 favoured a total transparent or peek a boo bra.

She watched the woman preceding her leave the lobby her eyes taking in the thong wedged in her arse crack and her suspender belt and stockings. She heard the cheers that greeted her and then it was her turn. Forced on by the knowledge that she couldn't embarrass her friend by pulling out she entered the bright lights of the dance floor. Music blared out and it was her 2 minutes of fame. She moved jerkily then something cracked. It was her reserve and she gyrated to the music with her hips moving lewdly and provocatively. She vaguely heard the crowd's cheering, but she was in a world of her own. All too soon it finished, and she went to the waiting group and stood watching Ai and the remaining contestants.

Again, there was the announcement in Vietnamese. She and Ai had not made the final 3 placegetters. Returning from the lobby dressed but still fuelled by the adrenaline rush she had just experienced Ai explained that the first 2 could not be separated, so there would be a posedown. To Asma's disbelief, the 2 two stripped completely. Ai explained the younger, about 19, worked in a takeaway food shop while the other in her 40s was a top eye surgeon. She wasn't an eye surgeon now, Asma thought as she performed a pole dancer in a seedy club would be proud of, only to be replaced by a similar performance by the young kitchen hand who did enough to claim victory.

driving home enquired if Asma had enjoyed the wedding and praised Asma constantly. Suddenly she said, "I was so proud of you, and you looked so great. You should be dressing like that at Uni too."

To Asma's surprise her answer blurted out, "But what would I buy, how would I buy, where would I Keep these so Asfar doesn't know?"

Ai laughed. "For someone who is so clever at University and the best achiever of all the Government-assisted University students you are so dumb. Of course, I would help you choose and buy them for you, and you would store them at my house, you silly person."