Pakistani Asma Nasir Ch. 13

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."

Zeinab smiled at him. "Very observant. 99.99% of men would just see stockings and a garter belt. Could have been bought on Aliexpress for all they care. But not for me. It must be the best and slutty. Now you and I have a lot of pleasure to do." They went up the stairs and the Iranian pushed open the door and faced the distraught, sobbing Asma who was still slumped on the floor. Asma looked up as the Iranian said, "I said I would take my victory rites sometime in the future, but something has turned up." Still holding Fahad's hand, she pulled him into the room. "Pakistani loser, for my victory rites I am going to fuck your son in front of you and then you will eat his cum from my overflowing slit and tongue me till I cum." Her hand on Fahad's cock felt it twitch and somehow swell even to a greater size.

"Nooooooooo," howled Asma, but Zeinab just gloated and purred, "You knew the rules when you insisted on victory rites on top of the grading contest." Insisted? Asma had merely offered it as the standard normal thing, expecting it, as usual, to be put aside, but goaded by the Iranian she had somehow accepted maximum mother rites. "Now, order your son to fuck me and tell him why," Zeinab hissed.

Head lowered and still sobbing "Fahad, my son, you must fuck this woman because she won."

Zeinab felt another surge of precum soak her hand and as she replied to Asma she felt Fahad's body shudder as she massaged his precum along his pulsating shaft. "Not good enough, bitch. Say you must fuck and pleasure this better sexfighter, sexier, hornier, more attractive woman in every way she desires because she defeated and humiliated the Pakistani challenger Asma in a contest to prove the best woman." Prompted by a triumphant Zeinab and accompanied by Fahad's cock humping her hand, fortuitously not seen by Asma because of the tears in her eyes, Asma haltingly repeated the Iranian's words to her son. Satisfied, Zeinab spoke to Fahad, I think it's time you lay down and let me ride that monster. But first, undress me."

Zeinab removed her tailored jacket, and she held up her arms to allow him to slide the tight body-hugging, semitransparent camisole up over her face and thick, strong mane of hair. Before he did this the hard black nipples and areolae were 70% visible if you stared hard at the garment but now uncovered, they stood firm and proud on the grapefruit-sized forward-pointing orbs like light runway lights beside the runway tarmac. "Touch them," she ordered Fahad and as she had planned his touch sent the nipples quivering hard as she moaned theatrically. "Whose tits are better," she asked of Fahad. "Make him swear on his faith to tell the truth while we fuck," she demanded of Asma.

The vow taken Fahad pointed to the smiling Iranian whose face swelled with pride as Fahad swore hers were the better. He then fumbled but managed to get the tight split skirt off leaving her in her high heels, stockings and special garter belt. "Leave those on me Fahad so your mother can see you are fucking a totally sexy slut." Job done, Fahad lay on his back. There was no need to work on his cock. It stood straight up like a telegraph pole in a flat country town. It was a thick, pre cum glistening, youthful monster with two swollen nut bags at its base. Saliva drooled in anticipation from Zeinab's lips and landed in tiny splatters on her tits as she mounted Fahad. She turned her head to Asma. "Watch me take it and milk all the cum from it. Now bring that mirror here and hold it so I can see it too."

With the mirror arranged and held by Asma, Zeinab reverse cowgirl straddled the big, long fuck rod, groaned and lowered her soaking slit. Using Asma's shoulders to steady herself she shuddered as she felt the wide, mushroom-shaped tip squeeze against her cunt entrance. She felt excited as she knew it was the longest cock she had taken. She needed and wanted that cock inside her, wanted to feel Fahad push it in deeper than anyone had ever before. And she wanted the cum inside of her, filling her and flooding her with sticky cream. But most of all she wanted Asma to watch it. She relished hearing Fahad groan, "So damn tight," so she paused, working her muscles along the half of the shaft buried in her.

"I want...want it...inside... all of it" she hissed through her teeth and shivered with arousal as she pushed down more and more taking the cock deeper. She could feel her layers peeling down Fahad's shaft, covering it with her own excitement. Her thighs were being pulled apart as she absorbed his cock. She shuddered and moaned in pleasure as she reached out and held Asma's face making her watch as final contact was made: her cunt lips spreading and flattening Fahad's pubes as she took all of him. With every move they made it feel like Fahad went deeper. She reached a state of hypersensitivity, each breath reminded her she was being stabbed with eleven and a half inches of fuck flesh. Yet she still watched the mirror held by Asma as the cock drilled in and out. She started to roll her hips slowly back and forth keeping Fahad's cock very, very satisfied shown by his moans becoming louder. Then it became too much for him and he writhed under her trying to slam his rod as far into her as he could. She was screwing up and down and the shape of the moving intruder could be seen on her belly. She was screaming with ecstasy and grabbed Asma's hands and placed one on her belly to feel his cock, the other cradled her son's ball sack.

"Feel your son's cock shaping my cunt, turning it into a fuck sleeve," she wailed. "Oh holy Allah, I'm cum, cum, cuuumminnng."

The words and thoughts, the entire situation was too much for Fahad. With Ai's tuition, he now prided himself on lasting, but this was too much. He grunted, thrust up and unloaded a torrent of cum into Zeinab. The sheer amount and force of the stream had her screeching as she came again. Fahad pulled back and escaping cum was released with the cock. Fahad thrust and shot again, then repeated this action two more times causing another orgasm from the howling Iranian who collapsed satiated.

She quickly recovered and straddled Asma in a schoolgirl pin and lowered her pussy to the Pakistani's face as the mixed cum, Fahad's and hers, dripped and fell on Asma's face. "Suck it out. Swallow your son's cum from the better woman's cunt. See how much cum he flooded me with, she wailed as she face-rode the older Pakistani. She played with her clit as Asma tongued her cunt swallowing the thick stream of cum issuing from her slit. Suddenly she stiffened lifted her hips and squirted an orgasm into Asma's face. Zeinab was fulfilled.

Suddenly she was pushed forward and she felt hands on her hips and a circumcised cockhead at the top of a stiff cock at her soaked pussy. One thrust from Fahad and he was balls deep, doggystyle, in the thirty-two-year-old Iranian. This time he had stamina having shot his first load and he remorselessly pleasured her. Pinned underneath the couple Asma watched from a few inches her son's meat fucking the Iranian's wet, accommodating slit. The sight, the sounds, and the situation had her incredibly horny, her snatch wet and leaking love and her clit throbbing and demanding relief. The sounds from above her face were so wet and so arousing she was nearly cumming and, despite hating herself for doing it, gave in to her desires and reached for her slit.

Her wrist was grabbed by Zeinab. "I haven't allowed that." She dragged Asma's hand to Fahad's swollen ball sac. "Feel your son's hot nut cum churning in that bag getting ready to be deposited in the Alpha woman." The rest of the fuck that Asma had to endure and witness was accompanied by her son's grunts, the Iranian's orgasmic moans and her own wails of denial. Then it was over. Fahad gave one last thrust, pulled Zeinab by the hips to fully impale her and sent another flood of cum into her. As Fahad accompanied her down the stairs, she took his phone and entered her number. His last sight of her was the tight split skirt painted onto her arse above cum covered stockings exiting the door.

It was an hour before Asma unlocked the door of her bedroom and entered the hallway. Fahad was there enquiring if she was ok. Tears welled in her eyes. "The Iranian bitch beat me, and you witnessed it. Then, because she won, you had to fuck her."

Her tears stopped as her son stepped forward and held her saying, "I saw you leading four to one when you hit your head on the floor and she took advantage of that. Otherwise, you would have won those topaz ear studs easily." He held her closer, and she felt his hard-on, little knowing it was from the message and photos Zeinab had sent him after she left, and she involuntarily humped his cock.

"But you fucked her a second time," she wailed.

"Yes, because I wanted to hammer her cunt and hurt her. I bet she is hurting now," Fahad replied knowing from her messages Zeinab felt like she had never felt before and wanted more. "And you know I don't believe in our faith, so the vow was meaningless and I lied," Fahad continued. His mother's body shuddered and sex cream flowed from her cunt.

Asma pressed her naked body against her son moulding her cunt against the hard-on in his trousers. "My son, I know I treated you badly fucking you for a week then going back to your father. It was my mistake. I am so horny after the fight and what happened after. I need you. Forgive me. She dropped to her knees and frantically drew it from his pants leg like a sword from a scabbard, watching as the trouser bulge gradually disappeared and the shaft entered the open air, quivering, and ready for action. Ai had schooled Fahad relentlessly and well in pleasuring her and that information translated well. He knew his mother didn't want tenderness, a slow build-up to tender lovemaking. She needed to be fucked, and fucked hard.