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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.”
“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'”
“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.
“You don’t know? Come on! How do we get a look?”
“Umm, raise head very, very slowly.”
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.”
“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!
“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.”
“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?”
“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.
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.
“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.”
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.
Upon returning home via the mountain path, Akira noticed a moderate amount of steam coming from behind his home. Intrigued, he decided to take a look. Akira got close to the house and sneak-walked his way towards the steam.
“What could make that kind of mist?” he asked himself. “Hmm…” as he got closer to the source, he figured out the solution: “Oh: the bathtub!”
He took a look at his backyard and saw the rarely-used traditional Japanese bathtub – with David sitting inside it.
“Why is David having a bath at my house?” he thought. He didn’t have too much time to think as what he saw next got his knees trembling.
Akira’s mouth dropped when he saw her: his stark-naked mother walking to the tub. Her full breasts, prickly shaved vagina, all making their debuts into Akira’s teenage life. Yumi was holding two cups of sake, handing one to David and drinking one for herself. She then circled around the wooden square box tub, stood on the step and entered inside.
Then, Akira saw something he’d never seen before: a lip-to-lip kiss. Yumi kissed her American lover with her wet puckered lips, the sounds reverberating deep into Akira’s soul.
“No, no, like this,” David caressed his hand on her cheek and gave Yumi an American-style open mouth kiss.
A scandalous display of mutually beneficial enjoyment, David, the American, groping Yumi’s Japanese body, fondling her, squeezing the same breast that Akira had placed his mouth in just a mere few hours ago. Though he was swelling with jealousy, Akira instinctively began stroking himself, undoubtedly turned-on by the fact that his own mother was showing deep, joyful signs of pleasure.
During their exchange of salvia, David paused and winced. Yumi let out a sly smile. Then, the water and the tub started shaking, gently at first, then rumbling and tumbling, water flying, David oh-ing and ah-ing, clutched the edge of the tub till his hands turned blood red. Akira didn’t know about the art of the handjob, but he could see the immense amount of joy that his mother was giving David, and he wanted it too – more badly than anything else.
Yumi felt a tingle go through her body; she looked behind her and saw her pants-less son. She knew she had to end this fast, deciding to finish the raging purple demon she had in her hand, so the one behind her would calm down. Yumi accelerated her pace, her dynamite grip in equal parts pleasuring and punishing, faster, faster, lighting sparks coming from the surface, she went harder, faster, till she felt it coming, coming strong and…loud.
“OHHH YEAHHH!” David’s scream-gasm drove the brides flying out the trees, the roar hitting Akira’s eardrums and tumbling down the mountain. “Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!!!”
Yumi exited the tub. “Please, I go see my son. Be back.”
“Yes, yes that’s fine,” he closed his eyes and leaned back, his body quivering from that electric handjob.
Yumi stormed towards her son, dripping wet and nude. Akira, with his hand around his package, pants around his ankles, made no attempt at hiding what he’d done, nor could he as he was entranced by his mother’s naked figure.
“Hello Mothe –”
Yumi slapped her son with a thunderous jolt, throwing him halfway across the field. Akira knew that was coming, and he knew he deserved it, but also felt that it was well worth it
David’s eyes grew wide, stunned at the power of the meek woman’s hand, the same hand that was around his cock just a few seconds ago. He felt very fortunate.
Yumi dashed towards her son, got on her knees and cradled him close to her breasts.
“What did I say before? No peeking!”
“Yes, Mother,” he said while his eyes were trailed directly at her tits.
She stood up, then, ordered her son to get up.
“Do you want to say something to Mr. Rochefort?”
Akira bowed his head. “Sorry, Sir.”
“Hey, it’s ok, I don’t m-m-mind,” he replied in a jittery tone.
Yumi looked at her son with her arms crossed. “Akira, I know you were confused and maybe a little curious, but it’s not ok to watch me naked or making love.”
He looked at her with fire burning in his eyes: “What do I need to do to get a naked bath with you?”
Yumi smiled. “Don’t worry, Akira: you’ll get your turn when you earn it.”
Ch.04: Hardcore Bonking
“All the way there for a fighting tournament?” asked the boxers-clad David, who after his electrifying bathtime-funtime was eating dinner with the Shibatas.
“Yes,” replied the comfy robe-wearing Yumi, “Akira, ahh, good at fight, but he need real fight, real fight, yes?”
Akira, sitting next to his mother, grunted in agreement.
“Hmm,” pondered David, “I don’t know…You’re saying you want to go to the Monaco Fight Junior Grand Prix? Why not in Japan? I’m sure there’s far more of those here than there is in Monaco –”
“No!” Yumi replied. “Oh, umm, ha-ha, sorry, it just, umm, we can’t be…seen in public in Japan. We, umm, like to keep Akira’s talent private, yes? You work for a Monaco oil company, yes? You can help?”
The light bulb suddenly went on for David. “Ohh! I get it now! You want your son fighting in these minor league fights, so that when he fights in Japan he’d be experienced, ready and good to go.”
Yumi went with it. “Yes, yes…yes!”
“Hmm, ok, but asking me to fly you on my jet, all the way to Monaco in just a week’s time, hmm, I don’t know if I’ll be able to swing that.”
Yumi nodded, “I sorry, but this just so good for my son…he really good at fighting.”
“I agree, I do, it’s just, hmm…”
Yumi then parted the side of her robe. “Oh, Day-vid…you have nowhere to stay tonight?”
He started sweating. “Ahh, umm, yes, umm, yes, I got nowhere to go tonight.”
“Stay with me…my bed, ok?”
“Oh, oh yes!” with that confirmation David’s special executive privileges were added to Yumi’s movelist. All she needed to do was seal the deal.
“I clean dishes; you go my bed, yes?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” he stood up, his grin unmoving, looking at her the whole way as he went into her bedroom.
Yumi stood up, went to the sink and turned the tap on.
Akira grabbed the plates and handed them to his mother.
“Akira, some noises will come from the bedroom…from me and him.”
Akira was confused. “Are you two going to be fighting?”
“Umm, no, no, we will not be fighting, though it will sound like I am in pain and agony, but Akira please know that I am not going to be in any trouble. It may be strange to you but what goes on in that bedroom will be very… fun for me.”
From this, he constructed that his mother and David were going to be roughhousing in the bedroom like a couple of old pals. “Ok, Mother.”
“Now I don’t want to tell you this again, but do not peek at me!”
“I won’t Mother, promise.”
“Good, good.” Yumi gave her son a light bonk on the head.
“Ow, Mother, I didn’t do anything.”
“You will, and when you do, remember that.”
“…Yes, Mother,” he replied while rubbing his head.
“Good, now go to your room.”
Akira went to his room, stripped all his clothes off and fell on his bed. After a few minutes, the sounds started filtering in…
First came the kissing noises, this Akira did recognize. After this, he heard groping, the rubbing together of two naked bodies. A little later, the sounds of the bed smacking against the wall, then, a loud groan from his mother followed by a couple more as David inserted his cock inside Yumi. Though her main intention was to use him for her own means, the pleasure Yumi got from inserting his diamond-hard, long length cock was very, very real – and long overdue. Deciding to put-on a more feminine front, she gently rode her white American lover, her hands on his chest as she rocked-back-and-forth.
Akira could hear hushed, whispered groans of pleasure coming from his mother. Though not fully understanding what they were, he was very much aroused; he started beating off. In addition, the thought that his mother was using her sex appeal for him – her son – got him very, very excited.
As David got more and more comfortable, he had some surprises of his own to share. Whilst riding, he lifted his hands and took a great, big, hard feel of Yumi’s succulent juicy ass. Yumi’s first reaction was to strike back, but she didn’t, and went with it, and much to her surprise, enjoyed having him grope and slap her on the butt. These butt slaps confused Akira, he thought that things turned physical between them, but then remembered the sounds his mother made when she spanked him: that memory got Akira back in the right thought zone. Indeed, this was going well for all involved.
Letting him take control, David rolled Yumi over and began thrusting himself into her. Un-concealing her moans, Yumi let out all her orgasmic sensations.
“Ohhh yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes – ohhhh! Yes!”
He carried on, harder thrusts, more sweat, more fire, the heat reaching its max, the two becoming a united being: a sweat-filled, lusting, interracial proponent giving their all to each other.
“Ohhh! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, oh, yes, yes, yes! Yes! Yes!” warrior woman Yumi allowed herself to be a humble, meek Asian mistress, her white master on top, filling her with pleasure.
Akira could feel it, could feel his mother’s pleasure centre’s going feral, flowing every which way, even through the walls. This was intense, exciting – but different for Akira as that purple, eerie feeling was not there, replaced instead by a warm angelic glow. No longer on the fence, Akira now took delight in his mother giving and receiving sexual pleasure…even if he was a tad jealous.
As the sex went on and as the heat reached skin-boiling temperatures, David went harder and faster, the flimsy rubber instrument of his breaking apart inside her. Yumi sensed this, so she pushed David out with her feet, grabbed his cock and got to work finishing him off.
“Oh baby, oh baby, oh baby! Oh baby!” he groaned. Hands this soft and delicate, yet powerful and ferociously fast was something he knew he could never get anywhere else, the pleasure was far beyond anything he’d ever received before: his heart went to a speed that bordered a serious line between unbridled thrills and the sudden and irreversible.
They caught a glimpse of each other during their climatic moment. David, overcome with pleasure, grabbed Yumi by the back of her head and gave her a long deep kiss. She responded with a twist and a release, the results splashing on her breasts, an arctic chill surging within him upon completion.
Right after his discharge, almost as if she was in slow-motion, David saw Yumi look down at her chest, poke, prod the thick amount of cum, then proceed to rub it on her chest – then darkness. Slam. David passed out, hitting his face on the warm cushiony surface. Yumi smirked, grabbed the nearby duvet and put it over him, letting him think he simply got tired and fell asleep after climaxing.
The deal was struck: David was her man from that point on. The kind of electric sex she delivered could not be replicated. He was all hers.
Akira finished too, and in a similar way to David, fell asleep soon after. In the space of two days, two Shibatas had sent two Rocheforts to sleep – albeit in dramatically different ways.
A week later…
“My DAD had SEX with YOUR…MOM!”
Mike said it again so Akira could fully absorb that statement: “My DAD had SEXUAL INTERCOURSE with YOUR…MOTHER!”
“Yes,” Akira said with a blank expression.
“Akira: As my friend, no, as my brother, I fully forgive you,” he paused to wince, “It’s all in the past, it’s all been done and we’re both sorry for how things went down, bygones be bygones, come on, what do you say?”
“Yeah, you know, it’s all good now after, you know, my father had sex with your mother, hmmm, feels good. My dad is single, you know, and he really likes your mom, like really, really likes, so I guess she could be…my mother too!”
Akira just shrugged. “I do not know.”
“She even let you, her very own son, suck her tit!”
“What? Come on! She was kidding about that? Wow, that sucks, man. As your brother I think that’s very uncool.”
Yumi came out from her house, hauling her backpack, wearing a white dress shirt and white slacks.
“You ready?” she asked all the assembled males.
“Yes Ma’am!” said Mike.
“The plane’s all ready, babe,” said David.
“Yes, Mother,” said Akira
Yumi kneeled down and whispered in her son’s ear: “Akira, if you win this, you get what you want: Me, you, in a bath, together…naked.”
Akira clenched his fists. “I WILL win, Mother!”
Ch.05: Drip, Drip; Feel, Feel
The early summer months saw Yakushima Island reach temperatures of 22°C, a fairly warm, breezy, serene place to live. Monaco on the other hand, was hitting the high 30’s, the climate scorching hot, very humid and very, very dense. The town was full of super-rich, affluent residents and visitors, different in every way from the place where Akira had grown up. Soon after landing the assorted Shibatas and Rocheforts went to the local beach.
Akira and Mike remained silent as they walked alongside Yumi, her in a white bikini top, matching sarong, large sunhat, bag and sunglasses. Their eyes were trailing her bouncing, neatly-packed breasts.
David put his arm around Yumi’s back, occasionally waving to passers-by.
“You popular?” said Yumi.
“Yes, our company’s headquarters is right here. Though I’m sponsoring your son independent of the company, since the boss hates fighting.”
“Ah, I see.”
David’s hand slipped below Yumi’s sarong. Tactfully he began to untie it. Yumi, sensing his intention, went along with it and proceeded to untie it herself. Underneath the fine fabric was something spectacular, a head turning spectacle: Yumi in a white thong, her bare cheeks face- level with the teens. They gawped in wonderment at her perfectly sculpted derrière.
David looked on with immense joy: his well-earned reward for years of toil. He slid his fingertips to her butt and walked with great pride as his hand lay on her ass.
After a few more minutes of walking, they found an empty set of deckchairs. All four sat down, Yumi seated between her son and her lover. Yumi reached into her bag and produced a bottle of suntan lotion.
She took her sunglasses off, turned herself over, then looked at David while holding the bottle. “My back, please?”
“With pleasure.” David squeezed hard, lathered his hands and rubbed her soft sexy skin. Starting on her back, undoing her bikini top, he diligently worked his way down to the most savoury areas of her body. Eventually he reached there, the area his hands wanted to clasp, the warm oils hardening his senses.
“May I?” he asked at the tip of her butt.
Without a second’s hesitation he rubbed, groped and fondled her cheeks. Akira watched as this man, who’d only entered his family’s life a mere week ago, had his hands all over his half-naked mother. A part of Akira was jealous, aggravated at the brazen acts of this stranger, feeling he was unworthy to touch his angelic mother in that type of way, but, the other half enjoyed this spectacle, took pleasure in seeing his mother have pleasure, knowing this was all of her own consent – something she wanted and enjoyed. Quickly, the negative thoughts evaporated, all washing away like the Larvotto’s calm ocean tide. This was because Akira knew that he could receive the same level of satisfaction from his mother – if he earned it. His resolve was set: no matter who was in his way, he was going to get that naked bath time with his momma and touch her boobies and butt!
David finished by lathering Yumi’s legs and feet. His fingers did get close to her vaginal region, but he wisely chose to not publicly finger his Japanese girlfriend as he was a high-ranking businessman who had to keep some level of decorum.
A little later in the evening…
The sun was setting on Larvotto beach. Mike had wandered off, entranced by a group of thong-clad nubile teens, while his father David was trapped in a round of small talk with local business folk. Yumi spotted her son, sitting with his knees to his chest, looking out to the ocean.
“David, umm, he missed a spot.” She pointed to her oiled-up behind
Akira stood right up. “Yes?”
“Could you just rub your fingers over there? Spread the oil around?”
He took a big gulp while looking down; her well-lathered butt cheeks glistening brightly. She didn’t seem to have any ‘missing spots’ – and that’s because she didn’t; Yumi, ever the giver, decided to let her son have a freebie feel. Akira cracked his fingers, hovered his hands around the pleasure sector, till he finally reached his fingertips down onto the surface. Upon touchdown, an immediate rush of electricity, a huge voltage, set off inside him. Rubbery, soft, slippery and addictive: all these words and more encompassed the feelings Akira felt throughout his being as he slid his hands around his mother’s butt. A few tentative sweeps were followed by short, probing feels. Akira then gathered up his courage and took a fingers-in caress – and just like that his time was up.
“Ok, Son, I think you got it.”
Akira pulled out. “Yes, Mother.”
Akira sat back down, trembling with excitement.
A little while later, David came back.
“Come on Yumi, Akira, we better get going before anyone else wants to talk dividends and synergy. Hey, where’s Mike?”
Just then, Mike trudged down the beach, looking despondent.
“Hey Son, how it go with those girls?”
“You know, Dad, nothing new, yeah. I touched one of them on the butt and she slapped me, yeah, cool, you know how it is, just being me is all I can be.”
David didn’t even hear half of what his son said; he had his arm around Yumi, his mind already gone to the bedroom. “Umm, yeah, good work, Son. Go get em. Yumi, I got us the luxury suite, just the two of us, all you can ever want inside.”
“And my son?”
“Oh, umm, yeah I got the guys a nice room too. So come on, let’s get going.”
“You know, I say this as your brother, so don’t get mad, but my dad is totally hammering your mom right now!”
“Yeah, umm,” Mike opened the palm of his hand and smacked his fist into it. “Just, hard, like super-hard sex!”
“Ah, yes, yes I understand.”
Akira and Mike were sharing a modest, 2nd floor two-bed hotel room while their respective parents were up in the luxury suite. Mike lay on his bed, thinking about what the grown-ups were getting up to whereas Akira practised his karate form.
“What do you think they’re doing up there?”
Akira shrugged. “Do not know.”
“If I know my dad, and I do, I’d say, hmm… on the ass, for sure on the ass. Akira, you think your mom has a great ass?”
“Oh come on! I saw you drooling all over it! Hey, it’s ok: all the guys in America would do the same if they had a mom like that…If I had a mom like that, hmm, Yumi as my mom. Think I can start calling her mom? Or mama-san?”
“I do not…know! Yah!” Akira went from a one-two punch combo to an up-kick.
Sensing that Akira was getting annoyed – and not wanting another injury – Mike changed the subject.
“Those look pretty cool,” Mike commented on Akira’s flame design combat pants.
“So, umm, yeah, this tournament will be a breeze for you, I bet, yeah, you got this Bro.”
He shook his head. “No, no. Tough, tough fighters.”
“Yeah, but come on, they’re, like, guys our age, and you’re the son of a martial arts master – plus you broke my freaking chest! You can easily whip guys your age, piece of cake.”
Akira solemnly shook his head. “No, I no think like that. Tough fighters in front of me, I must win – I must!”
That night Akira fell soundly asleep, well aware the time to prove himself was finally near.
Finally the day had come.
Yumi and David were in the registration line, while Akira and Mike stood around in the lobby. While waiting their turn, David took a glance at Yumi’s filled out form (both on paper and body).
David noticed an immediate discrepancy in the paperwork: “Babe, isn’t Akira too light to be in that weight bracket?”
“Akira strong,” she replied, “for challenge he need boys a little bigger.”
“Oh yes, I agree, but will he be allright?”
“He fine, he fine, no worry,” Yumi held his hand and looked up at him.
“Well…ok, if you say so,” David took his hand out of her grasp and tapped her on the butt. “Still sore from last night? Think you’ll be able to sit down?”
Yumi smiled. “I fine, I recover…quick.”
Mike spotted his dad and Yumi’s less than subtle body language.
“Look, bro, look: My dad is touching-up your mom! Wow! He has his hands on her ass, wow, my dad is the man!”
Akira looked and said nothing.
“Damn, my dad must’ve done some super hot stuff to her! Yeah, come on, he had to, no way he didn’t. Yeah, oh yeah…”
Akira looked away and kept his mind focused on his prize. After a little wait, their parents came back.
“Akira, you ready?” asked his mother. “Your first qualifying match is in fifteen minutes.”
“I’m ready, Mother.”
“Oh, wait, hold on.” Yumi dug into her bag and produced a mask familiar to many. The mane, the fur, the jaguar design: Yumi put a King mask on her son’s head.
“Wear this; don’t take it off, even during a fight. Oh and remember your name is ‘JayKay.'”
Akira nodded. “Yes, Mother.”
“Good, good,” Yumi put her hand out, Akira clasped it. “Let’s go.”
The four entered into the small hall arena. There were multiple rings set up, no crowds, just warriors testing each others mettles. Akira was shriving with excitement, stimulated by the reward that was within his grasp.
His opponent, a singlet-wearing, brown haired teen, taller in height than Akira, was waiting eagerly.
“Come on,” he shouted, “I don’t have all day, let me whoop this pussycat already.”
Akira stepped onto the stage; he put his fists in front of his face, then by his side.
“Ready?” asked the official. “…Fight!”
With one, two, three lighting fast steps, Akira dashed towards his opponent and struck him once in the stomach. The sound reverberated around the room; bone-crunching, hollow and full of hurt. Mike winced, he’d felt that power before – but believed that this time Akira was even more amped, more vicious. Stronger.
Akira’s opponent fell on the ground, his eyes rolling into his head.
The whole room of fighters stopped what they were doing and looked. They were shell-shocked, all feeling the same crushing, overpowering aura emanating from the source and reaching into their veins: They could see the venomous energy coming out from this shirtless, short, surprisingly muscular teen in the lion mask.
Yumi quickly grabbed her son’s hand and got him off the stage. Going down those ring steps with his mother, brushing his face across her tender breasts, Akira would’ve gone through a whole sidescrollers worth of henchmen to get within reach of that sweet, sweet touch.
Yumi held him by the shoulders, kneeled down and looked right at him. “Good, but please, not so hard. You have to know your strength.”
“Yes, Mother,” he said solemnly
“Now him,” Yumi turned her head to look at the unconscious teen on the floor, then looked back at her son, “He’ll be fine, nothing to worry about, but please don’t hurt anyone too badly. It’s about winning, not hurting anyone.”
“Yes, I am sorry.”
“Good,” she patted him on the head, then stood up, addressing Mike and David in English. “Good fight, yes?”
“Oh ye-ye-yeah!” said a jittery David, “He…did good. Let’s go wait in the lounge eh? These other guys looking at us is making me nervous.”
“Ok,” replied Yumi.
Mike walked beside Akira. “Man, bro, whoa, but come on! You could’ve just hit him with a ring-out, yeah?”
Akira looked at him with a stern expression. “No, wrong game.”
To qualify for the main eight-man tournament which took place in front of an audience, the participants had to win three preliminary bouts. After his first victory, Akira had two prelim fights to go – and both his opponents forfeited. All Akira had to do was prepare for the finals.
While his mom, David and Mike went to have lunch, Akira stayed in the arena and had a workout in the mini-gym area. He was alone in there, no other fighter daring to come near him after his aggressive display. While Akira was in the middle of deciding his combos, the door opened and in walked a red shirt and blue jeans wearing blond teen.
“Hello there,” he said in an American accent. “You the guy everyone’s afraid to fight?”
Akira sized him up right away; his figure was slender, around Akira’s height yet clearly older. Though from first glance this teen didn’t seem like much, Akira knew right away this was a formidable fighter.
“Robert Richards…America champion.”
“Ah you know me?” replied Robert, “Sweet! I never heard of you, are you, like, related to King or something?” he said while referring to Akira’s mask.
Akira was confused. “No. I not. You fight in show?”
“Yeah, I am. I thought it was going to be an easy deal, quick cash and all, but with you here, everything changes.”
Before Akira could respond, a tall statuesque woman came from out of the hallway and slapped Robert upside his head.
“Bobby, stop fraternising with your enemy!”
Even stoic Akira was at awe at this bodacious American woman: At 6’1, blue-eyes, full blond hair, long slender legs, a perfect hourglass figure and big in-your-face breasts, this was like no other woman he’d ever seen before. She was wearing a white tank top with beige shorts.
“Ow, Mom, don’t embarrass me in front of my competition.”
“Your competition nothing! Don’t be friendly with boys you going to be beating.”
Robert sighed. “Yes, Mother…I’ll see you in the final round, JayKay.”
Akira could hear Robert and his mother speaking as they left.
“Mom, oh Mom, I won so I get my –”
“Clamp down, boy! We ain’t wanting people to know about that, sheesh! Come on; let’s get it over with quick.”
Akira, intrigued for an unknown reason, discreetly followed Robert and his mother.
“Come ere!” she grabbed her son by the arm and threw him in a vacant locker room.
As he got closer, Akira heard an odd sound, almost like grapes being squashed. He then heard groaning, panting, muttered voices. Akira got to the room, looked inside and gasped.
Robert’s mother was on her knees, her son’s cock fully enclosed in her full pink lips. Like a hoover without an off switch, she held her mouth on it with an unclosing grip, saliva dripping out her mouth, hitting the floor with a sizzle. Robert arched his head back, shaking, his spasms rocking all the pictures off the wall.
Akira watched with intent silence, observing the mother-son interplay.
After a few deep strokes, Robert’s mom took her son’s cock out of her mouth, ripped her shirt open, and stuck his member between her breasts.
“Ohhh, ohhhh!” screamed Robert.
She lowered her head and licked the tip of his foreskin. “Like it? Huh? Huh!?” she asked while simultaneously tit-fucking her son.
“Yes, yes Mom! Ohhh! God, yeah!”
“You know our deal: this is your reward for making it this far, but you gets lots more if you win it all, ya hear?”
“Now, I’m gonna finish you off, no complaining, this is all you get!” While holstering his cock between her breasts, Robert’s mom licked, kissed and stroked his red member to completion.
“Ohhh I feel it, Mom! Oh! Oh! Oh!”
Robert’s mother moved her son’s cock away from her face, pointed it to the floor and let it all sputter out.
“Ohhhh! Ohhhh! Oh Mom, ohhhh, ohhhh, oh, oh, oh….Mom, I’m ready, I’m ready, I’m going to kick his and everyone’s ass! Yeah! Yeah! Bring it!”
“Good Son, keep that attitude,” she said while wiping her lips with a tissue. “Whoop all them boys and you get the full experience, you hear? You get nothing for second place! Nothing!”
“Yeah, Mom, I’m ready! Yeah!”
Akira could see the fire burning from within Robert, seeing him draw from the same energy source that he had found his inspiration from. Akira rushed back to the gym and worked out harder than he’d ever had in his entire life. For him, there was only one desired outcome: total complete victory.
Ch.07: Sweep The Leg
Evening time, inside a full 10,000 seat arena, the spectators having packed themselves into the hot sweltering building for the purpose of viewing the final rounds of the Monaco Fight Junior Grand Prix. Due to being the family of one of the competitors, Yumi, David and Mike got primo seats in the front row. Yumi watched anxiously, scouting the combatants. From the bunch, she saw only one real threat: American Champion Robert Richards.
David looked around nervously. “Hmm, you know, my C.E.O doesn’t like fighting, so I shouldn’t really be here.”
Yumi feigned concern: “Oh? I sorry, you be in trouble?”
“Oh no, no, no, maybe just a telling off, I mean, he can’t hate fighting too much, his daughter’s a very good fighter after all.”
“Good, I glad.”
Mike then nudged his dad and said in a hushed voice: “Worth it for her, huh? Do it all for the, you know, the sex, come on, she’s so hot.”
David smacked his son on the chest: “Shut it, Son! Don’t speak about her like that!”
“Oh, okay, Dad.”
After two listless quarterfinal matches, it was Akira’s time to hit the stage.
“Coming all the way from Japan, it’s the mysterious JayKay!”
The crowd clapped, their collective slaps like a huge tidal wave of noise, pouring down right to the centre. The massive number of people watching didn’t faze Akira at all; his focus was honed to perfection. He didn’t hear the fighter introduction; all he saw in front of him was a shirtless, mocha-skinned, dark haired warrior.
Akira dashed, going for the quick K.O. To his surprise, Akira’s blow to the stomach was countered by a block. This competitor thought he had this all in the bag, but his glee was to be his downfall. Akira swept the leg and knocked him out cold with a soft blow to the jaw.
“K.O! Winner: JayKay!”
The crowd leapt out of their seats, cheering for the winner. Akira politely bowed to the fans and went back to the waiting area. While walking through the tunnel, he saw Robert.
“Good job,” said Robert while wearing his tight red shorts. “Whoever organised this tournament was really smart: The only way we’ll meet is in the final.”
“I see you there,” replied Akira.
“Looking forward to it.”
Before walking away, Akira paused and said: “Your mother is good-looking, very.”
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean!?”
Akira was surprised; he thought all the teens in America complimented each other on their good-looking mothers. Turns out that Mike wasn’t being truthful to Akira about this aspect of American life.
“I, umm, ah…nevermind.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Robert punched his fists together, “No one talks about my mom like that! I’m coming for you!”
Akira walked away, finally figuring out that most of what Mike told him was total B.S
Akira’s semi-final foe used a different tactic. He, the regional champion of Monaco, dove right for Akira’s legs and took him down. The crowd gasped: Akira had finally shown vulnerability.
“I got you now!” said the young French teen.
It wasn’t a long advantage: Akira kicked the teen, sent him flying, stood up and hit him with a scorching uppercut. Akira was on to the final.
“All right, here we are: the two best competitors in this competition face off – against each other!”
Robert was bouncing on his feet, eager to fight. Akira, finally within distance of his so sought after hot bubbly prize, was in a state of calm, waiting for the match to begin.
Akira dashed forward, as did Robert. Akira went for his now-trademark blow to the stomach, but was stopped by something he’d never truly felt before: a crushing, hot, burning feeling that made his bones rattle: this feeling was pain. Robert had countered Akira’s dash with a devastating knee to the face.
Akira rolled back, grabbed the floor and stood himself back up. This first real taste of pain may have made some lesser fighters doubt themselves and ready to quit– but not Akira. He looked into the crowd and saw his mother, her beautiful elegant face filling him with a warm glow, her delicious breasts packed so tight into that white dress, melting away the hurt. That glance drove his energy bar right back to green, back into the fight.
The two competitors swayed around each other, each waiting for the other to make the next move. Changing tactics, Akira swayed side-to-side, inching forward in a slow, deliberate manner. Robert threw punches and jabs towards Akira, using his long, limber frame to keep Akira at bay. While stuck in this stalemate, Akira studied his foe, looking for an opening. The answer came to him when he avoided one of Robert’s kicks: Akira noticed that his opponent’s arms and legs were thinner than his own, plus. while Robert was taller and older, he also looked to weigh less than Akira. He had his solution.
Akira dove towards Robert, taking one of his blows right to the face. Akira stood his ground, grabbed onto his rival’s midsection and took him down to the ground. From there, Akira got the mount position and started throwing hard blows to Robert’s face.
“Oh, it looks like America’s champion is on the receiving end of a brutal beatdown! If he doesn’t find a way out soon, this will all be over.”
Robert wasn’t concerned: “Pfft? This? This is nothing!” he bucked his hips up, hit Akira with a palm strike and sent him flying away. Akira managed to get on his feet, but not before getting hit with a jab, jab, jab, spinning kick combo.
Akira was beaten, bruised, battered, yet standing. David and Mike were genuinely worried for his wellbeing, seeing the taller teen as just too much for little Akira. His mother expressed concern, but not full-on worry, oh no, because she had faith.
Akira stood his ground, waiting for his enemy’s move. Robert came dashing towards him, ready to hit the winning spin kick. Akira clenched his fist, putting all his power in one final blow. Time slowed down: Akira knew he had only one chance to hit this move. Right when Robert turned, Akira saw his opening: he ducked under, spun, dodged the kick, raised his fist and hit Robert right on the jaw. Sparks flew out, small fizzy jolts of light around the two warriors. Robert swayed, swayed, then fell like a tree: timber went the lanky American. Boom.
“K.O! Winner: JayKay!”
Confetti shot out around the arena, giving everyone a startle. The operatic victory music played. Akira had become the champion!
David and Mike stood and cheered for the victor.
“Oh my god, that was amazing!” shouted David. “How did we win? How!? Wow!”
“That’s my bro right there,” said Mike to random spectators, “My dad is dating his mom, he’s my bro, I trained with him, you know, helped him out with some stuff, basically taught him all those moves.”
Yumi smiled, proud of her son – and now fully justified in giving her reward.
Tired, battered, yet humble, Akira put his hand out to Robert and helped him up.
Robert smiled. “Man, first loss, wow, wow…I can’t believe it.”
“Good fight, good fight,” said Akira, “You real fighter.”
“Thanks, “Robert shook hands with Akira, then turned his back and whispered to himself, “I can’t believe I lost, damn it, damn it! I won’t get any from Mom now, damn! Man, that kid is strong, big too…Maybe I need to get bigger.”
The tournament organiser came on stage, holding a trophy and large novelty check.
“Here you go, you earned it!”
Akira took the trophy, but handed the big check back to the man. Akira then handed a piece of paper to the organiser and said, “Charity.”
The man looked at the paper: written on it was the name of a nature preservation organisation.
“You want to give all the money away?”
The man was stunned. “…Unbelievable…,” he got on the microphone and addressed the crowd: “This young man is giving all his prize money to charity! Well, we should expect such generosity from someone wearing this King mask. Let’s give it up for this great, great competitor!”
The crowd applauded him, Akira bowed in response. Akira was not especially charitable; he was just going by his mother’s orders. Besides, it was not the money that motivated him to this championship, it was something else and, finally, that wish was about to be fulfilled.
Final Chapter: Payoff
It was night. Akira was in a five-star hotel bathroom, naked, sitting on the edge of a bathtub. The water was running, the room was steaming up and getting very, very warm. He’d won the tournament, was able to avoid the media brouhaha and, now, was waiting for his wish to be fulfilled: naked bath time with his super sexy mother. His bare feet rubbed against the damp marble floor, battle wounds still raw, his instrument a shade of red just from the thoughts of what was coming.
After a five minute wait, which to Akira felt more like hours, she came in, fully nude, not a stitch of clothing on her body. While walking through the steam, her creamy smooth skin, delectable full breasts, and trim, smooth, moist vagina, all came into view, progressively sharper and detailed with each footstep.
She adjusted her neatly tied bun, then, smiled at her son. He looked up and gazed at his mother’s sublime being.
“Are you feeling better?” she asked.
His mouth would not open, he simply nodded.
Yumi then put her hands on the edge of the tub, giving her son a great look at his mother’s round behind. She put her hand inside the tub and swayed her arm in the water, performing some kind of purification ceremony. Once she was done, the water gave off a soft golden glow.
“I’ll go in first.” Yumi stepped inside the bathtub.
Akira waited while his mother stretched herself out in the tub. He could feel his heartbeat, his body trembling with nervous excitement.
“Come on in,” she spread her legs apart, “Sit in the tub with me; put your back to my front.”
He calmed his nerves, put his foot in the water, then his other foot and sat down. In that snug little tub, he felt his back squish against his mother’s soft breasts, her legs cradling his, a feeling of warmth, heat and hot, hot pleasure.
Yumi rubbed her son’s cheek with her delicate fingers, her mouth just behind his ear. She spoke softly, “You feeling good, Akira?”
“So good, Mother, so good, nothing hurting at all,” the water seemed to have healed him of all battle wounds and scars.
“Good, good, you earned this.” she grabbed the soap, lathered her hands and rubbed it on his arms. That feeling of her hands over his skin sent a shiver through him.
“Ahh, ahhh, ahh, Mother.”
Yumi pressed her hands on his chest, reading his beat, able to feel the blood rushing around. She sensed that he was ready. The water was just right and his member was raging a tornado inside the water. It was time. Yumi slowly slid her right hand down his thigh, wrapping her hand around his cock, one finger at a time. At first her grip was loose, to let her son get used to the feeling, but when she felt him stiffen, harden, she knew her son was ready for more: With a rock-squashing squeeze, she started tugging.
Victory is what it felt like, like a glorious heavenly prize going through his veins. Now, finally, after all the hardships he had to endure, Akira finally felt that emotion he’d so sought after: that unchained furore of sexual energy bursting out from within, his mother steering him with her expert handling.
“Take it all, Son. Slowly, slowly, remember to breath.”
“Hmm, hmm! Yes, Mother. Hmmm!”
Short, fast strokes is how she eased him in, then, to increase the pleasure, she twirled her thumb around his foreskin. Furthermore, feeling her son really earned this treat, she tickled his inner thigh with her free hand.
“Hmmm!” He kicked his feet in the tub, his hands digging into his mother’s supple legs.
She went faster, harder, squeezing her son tighter within her grasp.
“Oh, Mother! Hmmm! Mhmmhm!”
The water itself was bubbling, boiling the incestual combo. Akira was filling the tub with his sweat, while Yumi, as the conductor, remained calm and composed, leading her son to a high crescendo of bliss.
Sensing the climax, she kissed his shoulder, and asked, “Akira, do you feel like you’re going to finish?”
He bit his lower lip. “N-n-no.”
She kissed his shoulder again, her wet lips sending a multitude of shockwaves through her son’s body. “Are you sure, Akira?”
“Yes, yes, yes!”
Akira had been through a brutal fight, endured hard, gruelling training, in his future he was to face even tougher foes, go against hundreds at once, but all that was coming and gone did not compare to the intensity it took within him to not prematurely climax.
“Hmmmm. Yes! Yes! Mother, yes!”
Akira’s body was turning a light shade of red, his prolonged pleasure forcefully driving him to his limits. Why did he go so far you may ask? Because his mother’s pleasure was a sensation, a feeling, so great that he was to try his damndest to keep it going forever. And ever. And ever. And ever. And – oh, there it was. He felt it, the release coming, the trigger set, no more holding back, it was ready to come out.
The surface of the water went from a golden hue to a blood red haze, boiling from the centre, bubbling, hot, hot, hot. Yumi held her son close, stroked faster, faster, faster, till it came rushing out of him with a bang! Boom! An explosion set off by a mother’s caring hands. The water went flying, spreading out all over the room. Yumi’s immaculate black hair and soft skin was soaked in her son’s powerful after-effects. Even she was surprised at the true furore of her son’s climax.
Akira took in heavy, heavy, deep, deep breaths. Drained and empty, he felt it difficult to stay awake, the completion having taken everything out of him. Yumi held her son’s cheeks, turned his face towards hers and gave him a light, gentle kiss on the lips.
“You liked that?” she asked.
He smiled, nodded, then fell right to sleep on his mother’s breasts. Many, many hardships were coming Akira’s way, but on that night all he felt was an overwhelming feeling of unfiltered bliss.
Ch.01: The New Bouncy Regime
It had been one month since Akira’s triumphant victory at the Monaco Fight GP – and exactly one month to the day that his gorgeous mother, Yumi, gave him the best reward he’d ever had: a soothing, pleasurable naked rub-and-tug– his first and only sexual experience. Not the most typical way a mother would reward her son, but the issue of the sleeping demon inside Akira’s body did make this an extraordinary situation.
Yes, Akira had a real life demon soul resting inside him, something he’d inherited from his father. Now, two things appeased this demon: fighting and sex. Regular, disciplined training helped Akira control the demon, while positive sexual energy, via Yumi, could overpower it. The fighting tournament and subsequent soapy reward was successful in weakening the aforementioned demon, but, for Akira, there were other more pressing changes to adjust to.
Yumi’s boyfriend, David, was so enamoured with his Japanese girlfriend that he insisted she – and her son – live with him. Seeing the very obvious benefits to having a multi-millionaire boyfriend, Yumi agreed. So, Yumi and Akira never went back to their rural Japanese home, instead the two moved up – way up, all the way to a super-rich gated community in Los Angeles, USA. This family also included David’s son Mike, who was more than pleased to have a hot Asian woman take the mother role in his life.
All was well on the surface for this family, no problems at all. That was because the big issues – the demon and the taboo mom-son bath – were kept secret. Akira followed his mother’s orders and did not mention the salacious bath to anyone, not even her. Though they never spoke of it, every night Akira, he, he remembered it. He remembered the feel of his mother’s delicate fingers wrapped around his member, her soft breasts against his back, and her warm lips pressed against his skin. He used those vivid memories to sooth his deadly desires, able to keep them at bay…for a while.
Now, we join this family at their LA home, on a hot summer’s day. For Akira’s martial arts training, a skilled fighter was to move in with them and stay for the reminder of the summer. The boys were hanging around in Mike’s room, awaiting the imminent arrival of this special guest.
“‘My mom is hot and Asian,'” said Mike.
“Uhh, my mom is… hot and…Asia,” repeated Akira.
In their spacious home, Mike was teaching Akira some English sayings that he felt were essential for his new brother to know.
“Bro, come on: ‘Asian’, not ‘Asia’. Trust me: If you tell this new guy that you got a hot Asian mom, he’ll think you’re the coolest guy ever! Guys here love Asian girls and hot moms, and our mom is both, so that new guy will think you’re extra awesome!”
Akira gave a stony-faced stare to Mike. “‘Our’ mom?”
“Yeah, I mean, come on, she’s both our mom now, right? My dad ain’t ever letting go of your mom! She has him, has him good, the way he talks about her, looks at her, come on, he loves her! And in the bedroom! –” Mike stopped himself before he got another rib-cracking injury from the demon-bound fighter.
Just then, the aforementioned hot Asian mom walked up the stairs, turned a corner, and leaned against the doorway. The comfortable, bare-footed Yumi Shibata was clad in a sporty tank top and tight sweatpants.
“Hi, hi!” replied an excited Mike.
Akira nodded to his mother, his cheeks glowing red from the gorgeous sight in front of him.
Yumi’s body had changed during the month, going from a toned martial artist’s frame, to a rounder, fuller, womanly figure. This change brought only good things: bigger breasts, wider hips, and a new, juicer ass.
Yumi spoke to her son in Japanese: “Akira, we got that new boy moving in with us today, he’s here to help you train, get stronger. I think one of his parents is also coming with him. He’s got a real bushido spirit, Son: He asked to train with you, personally.”
“Yes, thank you, Mother,” he replied solemnly, his eyes trailed directly on her face, using his discipline to look away from her bouncy boobs.
Yumi addressed both boys: “And I…think you two go outside and do training?”
Mike waved his arms. “No, no Ma’am, please, come on, I don’t want to fight with Akira again!”
“No?” she smiled. “You no fight, you help Akira with weights. Okay Mikey?”
Yumi’s angelic smile was having devilish repercussions for Mike’s crotch. He folded his legs and said, “Ahh umm, yeah, sure, no problem, yeah, yeah.”
“Okay, see you later boys,” she went back down the stairs.
Mike sighed. “Wow, our mom is so pretty.”
Akira nodded. “I…agree: My mom is a hot Asian woo-man.”
“Yeah! Just like that! Come on, you go hit some punching bags while I teach you some more English!”
Akira agreed. “Hai.”
The two boys went down the stairs, outside to the several-yards-long field, As happy as Akira was, with no worries or complaints at all, on that day, seeing his mother look so beautiful and gorgeous, trigged awake more deep memories from that faithful night in the 5-star hotel bathroom: He recalled her floral fragrance, her silkily soft skin, and the feel of each individual areola. With these thoughts in his mind, Akira felt a purple-coated sense of anxiousness seeping out from within him as he worked out his body…and his feelings.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, watching on, was Yumi, seeing an added vigour in her son’s moves, a clear sign of an unanswered need. Yumi knew what her son’s problem was: it had been a whole month since Akira fought in active competition, she could see that her son was hungry for more fights – and for another well-earned reward.
As she watched on, Yumi thought back to that night, wondering if she made the right choice. Yumi didn’t offer her son her body as a way of erotic satisfaction; she knew the demonic side in her son was pacified most by her pure bliss, which at its most powerful crushes any soul-eating darkness. Yet, a part of her regretted that she showed her sexual side to Akira, crossing that mom-son boundary, though she ultimately knew it was her duty and could not be avoided: she had to do it, only she could’ve provided that kind of pleasure to her son. There was also another moral dilemma to consider as Yumi couldn’t wholeheartedly give her son another dose of sexual satisfaction, seeing as she’d just become a confirmed woman…
“Honey, I’m home.”
Yumi turned and smiled at her man. “Hello, Day-vid”
The suit-clad, brown-haired, 6’3 American business man leaned down and kissed his woman’s tasty lips. “Hmm, how was your day, dear?”
“Great! The company is doing better than ever; I’m due for a good, meaty raise.”
“I glad…but,” she said with a sad sigh, “Akira… I see he need more fights, he need better competition.”
“Well, that’s why we brought in that kid,” he said as he cracked open a bottle of water, “Has he arrived yet?”
“Soon. It just, it just…a little worrying.”
“Aw don’t worry about that,” he put his arms around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder. “I’m here, he’s got his new brother to look out for him, everything will be fine, I promise.”
“Thank you,” she said gratefully as she rubbed her cheek on his.
This aspect of Yumi’s life was a surprise to her as this relationship was, initially, a relationship of convenience, but, during the interim time period, it had morphed into something genuine and …affectionate. Yumi not only found herself connected emotionally to David, but also physically. Yes, facially, David looked like an average forty-something Caucasian man, but beneath the suit, he hid something big, hard and constant. Yumi felt that instrument rub against her back, her cheeks glowing red as it dug in.
He kissed her rosy cheek. “Yumi, you think we got time for…you know.”
“Hmmm, but the boys, they –”
“Don’t worry; our house is so big that they’ll never know. We’ll finish by the time they’re done.”
The old, disciplined Yumi could hold back any urge, but the new, domesticated Yumi? She couldn’t resist. It was clear that the dynamics between the two had shifted: Yumi used to be the one that led Richard to the bedroom, the American millionaire seduced by the eastern woman’s exotic delights. But now, after getting to know each other to the fullest extent, Richard had became the man who took Yumi to his bedroom, he dictating, when, where, how…and she liked, no, she loved it.
“Okay, let’s do it,” she said while biting her lower lip.
“Yes! That’s my girl!” David slapped his girlfriend’s butt, grabbed her hand and went up the three flights of stairs, all the way to the bedroom. Minutes later, they were warming their bodies together, locked in a naked embrace.
Akira, while in the middle of an uppercut, suddenly paused: he felt a deep, dark shiver.
“You all right, bro?” asked Mike.
Then, seconds later, Akira felt an otherworldly force shift his attention from the punching bag to the third floor middle window: his mom and David’s bedroom.
“Umm, sorry,” he said while trying to shake off the feelings – but already deep under their spell. “I…I, I go…inside, to… bathroom.”
Akira turned and walked briskly into the house. He couldn’t explain his motives or his actions, just a sudden, loud urge to go upstairs, all the way to his parents’ room. He dashed up the stairs, his body under the half-control of something he couldn’t explain, but something that was undoubtedly on Akira’s side – his horny teenage side, that is. When Akira got to the top, he heard a series of unfamiliar sounds: shuffling, squeaking and muffled yelps. Heavily intrigued, Akira found the amazing truth when he got closer to the door.
“Ohhhhh!” Yumi groaned in a tone her son had never heard before: pleading, moaning. “Ohhhhhh, so good, so good, yes! Ohhhh!”
Akira parted open the door, and saw a wonderful, beautiful sight: his naked mother on top, her jet-black hair flowing, head arched back, a look of serene pleasure on her pretty face as she gently and elegantly swivelled her hips. A pretty vista indeed, but better was to come: Akira pushed his head forward and got himself a good, hard look at his mother’s breasts and butt, bouncing in perfect motion to the tide.
As Akira gazed inside this bright, glowing room, he saw the recipient of this angelic love, David, lying flat on his back, naked, legs out stretched, his hands clasped around Yumi’s hips. Akira, of course, knew that his mother and surrogate father had sexual intercourse, and he knew it was a daily occurrence, but seeing it with his own eyes, seeing his Japanese mother’s naked body on top of her white American lover’s tall, imposing frame, having visual evidence of the interracial joys they experienced, actually watching them go at it, was a whole new emotional sensation for this teen. Akira crotched down and watched as they carried on with their lovemaking.
“Hmmm, oh baby,” said David as he took a big feel of Yumi’s juicy butt cheeks, groping and slapping them gently. Yumi hummed in pleasure as this man took control of her body. Seeing her positive response to his efforts, he decided to up the tempo: David pulled down his tasty Japanese lover, grabbed both her ass cheeks, and placed his lips over hers.
“Ah, yes, yes!” she said as she kissed him, Yumi immensely turned on by the domination her man was showcasing.
“Hmm, oh baby, yes!” David exchanged loving kisses with Yumi, while also keeping a strong, firm grip on her butt cheeks. Both loving and strong, David was displaying all the attributes that made him become the man Yumi wanted.
“Yes, baby! Yes! Yes!” he said as he drilled his cock inside her, moving his large frame with natural masculine finesse.
Since being with Yumi, David had added muscle to his body and cardio to his workout, his committed relationship with this gorgeous Asian woman having made his daily gym visits a much-worthy investment of his time. As evidenced by his performance in the bedroom, David was successful in transforming himself into a man who didn’t just bring home the bacon – he also brought home the beef. And it showed too.
“Ohh! Ahh, so hard, ohh so hard, ah, ah!” Yumi groaned in response, fully embracing the role of the submissive damsel, her strong knight having his way with her.
As the happy couple kept at it, Akira watched while pleasuring himself, an action both out of habit and from choice. The usually selfless, level-headed son was getting perhaps a little envious of the man that was performing passionate sexual acts to his cherished mother. Akira felt more tinges of envy when he saw exactly what David was sticking inside his mother: his large bare cock. David then turned to his side, letting Akira get a good look at his mother’s whole backside as David slammed his large tree trunk past her dark bushy wilderness area.
“Ohhhh,” she moaned into his shoulder. “Ohhh, ohhhh, Day-vid, Day-vid, ohhhhh, oh, ohhhhh!”
David was going hard, Yumi surrendering, allowing her man to do as he will, allowing him to use her as his primal release vassal. Akira was seeing a whole new side to his mother, she no longer the strong, confident woman that Akira knew, she having turned into something different, something unfamiliar to the boy that had known her for her whole life: Akira saw his mother as a kept woman.
The dynamics were as clear as day: David was in complete control, his hands and stance dictating where his woman went. Akira was in awe as he watched David slam his cock in and out, smacking it in with no attempts at giving pleasure, just receiving. Akira had thought David was a totally passive man, but David proved he wasn’t, because what Akira saw was a man that was embracing his masculinity to the fullest. David was a nice guy, oh for sure, a great man, a good person, but, also, an alpha male that loved sex his way, in 100% complete control. And Yumi? She loved being that kind of woman, loved being his woman, the woman who, in no better terms, went into that bedroom, stripped naked, got on her back, opened her legs, and proudly became his undeniable bitch. That, the deeper context of what Akira was seeing, his mother and father-figure in this most primal act, was much more taboo than the actual sexual acts. It was something no son should ever watch, something Akira should not have been watching…but he carried on regardless.
“Uh! Uh! Uh!” David grunted loudly, proudly, letting his manliness come through. “Oh yeah baby, yeah, hmmm, come on baby, oh yeah! Yes, yes, yes! Yes!”
David held Yumi’s leg while slamming deeper, faster. At that angle, Akira could see the penetration, the long instrument violating his mother’s most sacred area. Akira focused harder, harder than ever, and with his strong resolve, a new power was awoken: To Akira’s amazement, he was able to enhance his vision to inhuman levels. This was a gift from the one that rested inside him, giving Akira the ability to see the action in crystal-clear clarity. This HD-zoom set Akira well over the edge of erotic sanity; pants off, his hand around Little Aki, he watched with focused intent as the juices flew out of his mother’s vagina, the liquids roaring out with each hard thrust of David’s iron rod.
“Ohhh yeah, yes, yes, yes!” he said loudly, his victorious cries echoing around the room, and into the halls. “Yes, yes, ohhhh baby!”
Despite their lovemaking having gone past thirty heavy-packed minutes, David still had much left in his tank: he turned around, got on his back, and got Yumi on top, riding him, but with no elegant grace this time around, just a sweaty cum-stained bitch jumping up-and-down her man’s big cock.
“Ohhh! Day-vid, Day-vid!” she squealed. “Let me, let me, please…” Yumi put her hands on David’s chest and got ready to show him her newest sexual technique: with his cock still inserted inside her, she spun her body around, and in a flash, had transitioned into reverse cowgirl position.
“Ohhhhh I love you so much,” he said outloud, so moved by his Japanese lover’s sexual prowess. With her back to him, she grinded harder, deeper, shaking her sexy butt, her body quivering from all the titanic pleasure.
“Oh Day-vid! Ahhh! Ahhhh!” she shouted in a totally pleading, submissive tone, the message coming in loud and clear: I’m yours, take me.
“Oh, yes, yes, yes!” said David as Yumi shook the bed with her hard rhythmic grinding
Akira was a sweaty wreck as this all went on, he stunned beyond belief that this naked, groaning, cock-loving woman that he saw in front of him was his very own mother. For his finish, Akira set his zoom to max, and saw a perversely beautiful set of images: His mother’s dark black vaginal hair sweeping against the breeze, the individual beads of sweat rolling down her milky skin, and her soft, mouth-watering, cotton candy-like nipples, all topped off by the most powerful image of them all: his mother’s nude body trembling in anticipation for her finale, her crescendo, her orgasm.
“Hurr! Hurr!” David said outloud as he slapped Yumi on the tush. Now, David’s rocket was at full, the big one ready to fire with a scorching, inferno-like blast off.
Yumi was groaning loudly, her mouth wide open as she felt it all rising up inside: “Ah! Ah! Ah! Day-vid! Ah, ah, ah!!!”
David also felt it, felt it all roaring inside him. “Ohhhh Yumi, Yumi, I’m –”
Everyone stopped their sexual activities.
David sighed. “Oh…God damn it, I’ll go open it.”
Seeing David come for the door, Akira pulled his pants up, ran for the ledge, leapt, and jumped down to the stairs, leaping from one set to the other with the greatest of demonic ease. Reaching the door before David even opened his, sweaty Akira ripped it open, his jaw hitting the floor when he saw who’d come over…
“Hey, we meet again JayKay…. So, this is what you look like without your mask.”
On Akira’s front porch was the teen he beat to win the Monaco Junior Fight Grand Prix: American Champion Robert Richards. That was not all. A familiar woman stood behind him.
“Lookie here, this a real fancy looking place! I can see myself staying here.”
Along with Robert was his mother, a woman who also ‘motivated’ her son with exotic methods. She had long legs, shoulder-length blonde hair, and large, bountiful breasts. She was Helena Roberts.
“Well look at you, all sweat and muscles,” she said with a grin. “You know, without that stupid mask, you’re actually quite cute.”
Ch.02: Piehole Goodness
A day later…
It was the afternoon, the Richards having settled into their new digs. With the boys out to play and train, and Yumi’s boyfriend David at work, the house was left to the mothers. They were relaxing at the poolside area, Yumi and her female house guest settling into their lounge chairs.
“Ahhh!” Helena stretched herself out, she wearing a black micro-bikini, the small edges just about covering her most private regions, each swivel movement of her body a mere glimpse away from revealing her erect nipples. The leggy blonde then grabbed her latest bottle of suntan cream.
“May I?” said Yumi, her wonders concealed by a bright purple bikini-top and a hi-riding thong that accentuated her peachy delights.
“Please,” replied Helena as she turned around, her back and buttocks beneath the roaring sun.
Yumi lathered her soft hands and rubbed ever-so-softly over Helena’s body, using her martial artist’s precision to spread the cream evenly over the woman’s back.
“Good?” asked Yumi.
“Oh great, baby, great. Umm, you mind gettin’ a little on my butt, too?”
Yumi saw the power-play being manoeuvred by this wily American woman: a seemingly innocent gesture was, in fact, a request of humble servitude. To refuse would be rude, but to accept would be defeat. Not to be underestimated, quick-witted Yumi had an answer.
“Ah, okay,” she put her hands on Helena’s derrière and rubbed the cream over her toned butt, digging in deep, applying enough pressure to get Helena’s pussy lips rubbing against her cloth thong. After Yumi finished showcasing her power, she gave Helena a friendly pat on the butt, one that seemed innocent, but a tap that sent shockwaves through Helena’s back and leg muscles. Message sent: Yumi was not to be messed with.
“Hmm, thanks babe.” Helena’s respect level for the mother of her son’s rival went up, well up. Helena now knew that Yumi was not just any woman: she was a smart one. Helena also knew that she and Yumi, despite their divergent backgrounds, were remarkably similar.
“So the boy’s father not around?” asked Helena.
Yumi shook her head. “No, he in Japan. How about you?”
“Him? I kicked that ol’ no-good sumbitch’s ass to the curb years back. Yeah, it’s just me and my boy, always has been. My main focus is to get him to the top of the fighting world, ya know what I mean?” Helena reached for her wineglass. “Hey! Here’s to us independent moms from both ends of this ol’ world.”
Yumi smiled, and grabbed her juice. “Cheers,” she said as they clinked glasses.
Helena chugged down her wine. “Umm, honey, let me tell you, I ain’t seen an Asian woman built like you before, trust me, you so, umm, what does Cindy call it? Uhh, oh yeah: bootylicious.”
“Oh hell yeah! Honey: the butt, the boobs, let me tell you, you meet some of my brothers, cousin brothers, uncles, oh Jesus, they’d love you. Girlfriend you a man-magnet, I swear.”
Yumi giggled. “No, thank you. I like my man.”
Helena slapped her forehead before reaching for another refill. “Well, duh? How silly of me. I keep forgetting you got the goldmine right here! Girl, you come to America and you get yourself a millionaire before even getting a green card. You’re something special,” she took another sip of her wine before saying, “Have you given him your ass?”
Yumi blushed. “Umm, I, I…that personal, no?”
“Pfft? Not for me! Honey, you don’t need to tell me anything about yourself – but let me tell you about my last boyfriend: The QB for my son’s high school, a meaty six-five black stallion, ummmmmmm,” Helena tactfully rubbed her fingers over her clit as memories of Marcus Driver came flashing back to her. “Girl, let me tell you all the ways we did it – and how.”
Yumi grinned, nodded and said, “Go on…”
The mothers chatted about sex positions, car sex, and just why it’s always best to never meet the mother of your teen boyfriend. Halfway into Helena’s confessional, the women were interrupted when they heard a high-pitched yelp coming from the gates.
“Eee! My GOD! Come on!” shouted Mike, “Both, both, both –”
“Hey!” shouted Helena, “Quit your perving you weird little kid!”
Yumi tapped Helena’s arm. “Hella-nah, Hella-nah, that Day-vid’s boy.”
“Oh is he? Oh that’s right, he is, isn’t he? I thought he was a housekeeper’s kid or somethin’.”
Robert and Akira walked behind Mike, and when those sons saw their bikini-clad mothers, their mouths hung wide open.
“Mom!” shouted Robert, “You look HOT! – ”
“Shut yo piehole mister!” interrupted his mother, “You ain’t seeing any of this goodness up close, you hear? You’re still being punished for that runner-up finish. Now get, get!”
Robert sighed, “Okay, Mom.” He tapped fists with Mike and Akira, “We work on that eight-direction run later?”
Akira nodded. “Yes, sure.”
“Cool, cool.” Robert went back into the house.
Yumi whispered over to Helena. “Your son like seeing you like… this?”
Helena was wide-eyed and stunned: she thought Yumi wouldn’t be able to fully understand her fast-talking southern dialect and sayings.
“What? No, no, it’s, it’s what boys do, I mean, I was talking about you really, haha, yeah, he loves Asians, all his girlfriends are Asian girls, yeah.”
Yumi gave a nod. “Right.” She’d just gained vital info and was making sure not to forget it – but Helena had a killer counter attack.
“Hey boys!” she shouted at Mike and Akira, “You sweaty little things need to cool down, you’re both so dirty. Go on, cool down in this water here – oh, and do it ‘country style’, let’s get you boys naked!”
Under Mike-logic, if a hot woman asks you to get naked, you do it, whatever the situation. He started ripping his clothes off within seconds
Akira looked perplexed as he saw his friend strip naked for seemingly no reason.
“What you doing?” Akira asked.
“Come on! She said she wants us in the pool, naked! Naked! No clothes.”
“Ah, I see,” Akira began disrobing.
Fearing her son’s other raging purple demon was about to be exposed, Yumi shouted at her son in their native language:
“Son, don’t get naked, just go in your underwear.”
He looked at his sparkling mother and nodded. “Hai.”
Average-bodied Mike jumped in first. “Woo!” he made a big splash when he entered. Akira took the more sensible tact by walking down the pool stairs.
Helena licked her lips when she got a good look at the bronzed, lean, muscular Akira. “Hmm, you have a beautiful boy, Yumi.”
This comment sent a cold shiver down the infallible Yumi’s body: Helena showing interest in her son was something much unexpected.
Helena carried on: “Woo! Would you look at those muscles? Hot! Does he work out? You must tell me his diet, I want my boy having six-pack abs like that, and with strong, thick legs like your son’s! Woo!.”
Yumi was a second away from bitch-slapping the jailbait out off Helena. Even the intent was a dangerous deed: Helena was walking poison for Akira. A sexual meeting between the venomous energy of Helena and the sleeping demon inside Akira would trigger a huge wave of vile, dark, repressed emotion out of the teen boy. The only woman who could give Akira sexual satisfaction was his mother – and that was not out of jealousy or desire on Yumi’s part, it was just the facts, as her heavenly grace was the only proper satisfaction for him.
Knowing they’d stepped onto very dangerous territory, Yumi played coy. “Yes, my son work very, very hard in gym, but technique most important, yes, proper technique.”
Helena agreed. “Yeah, yeah, steel sharpens steel is what my daddy used to say. I think it fits them boys and their training too. They’re only gonna get stronger if they work together, right?”
“Yes, good for both.”
“Oh yes, and I’m making sure my boy gets the most out of this experience, gonna beef him up, get him up a weight-class, get his speed and power up, no one will touch him– no one! And we’ll be at the tippity-top again!”
Meanwhile, in the pool, the nude Mike was talking in hushed whispers to Akira.
“Come on, wow, look at our mom! And look at Rob’s mom! The boobs on that woman! Wow! Her son said she was hot! Wow! Think him and his mom do things!? Wow, hold on; look at the butt on our mom! Wow! Did I mention how glad I am I met you guys?”
Akira nodded while keeping a safe distance away from Mike. “Yes, I’m very happy here.”
Akira’s words were true, he was happy, and more joyful when he gazed upon the two gorgeous beauties in front of him. He looked at the experienced delights of his mother, smiling happily at him, a warm, white, heavenly glow exuding out from her– but, to the right, releasing a inciting valentine red aura, giving Akira an alluring look, was Helena Roberts, her tongue going slowly around her lips, her large breasts heaving. Helena had succeeded with her seduction methods, having got Akira stiff as a boulder underneath that hot, hot water.
Ch.03: Red Letter Day
Evening time and David comes home to see his son naked and floating in the pool.
David shook his head. “Can you even try explaining yourself, Mike?”
Mike looked over at his Dad. “Umm, ahh…”
“Where are the others?”
“Okay…put some damn pants on, you’ll catch a cold.”
Inside the house, Yumi wore a small white t-shirt and tiny black shorts over her bikini-top and thong, while Helena had a tight dress covering her micro-bikini-clad body. The two women were in the kitchen, Yumi doing the cooking while Helena watched in gawped amazement.
“Tell me again why you’re cooking?” asked the bemused never-cooking Helena as she held an apple.
“I, ah, I want to know what my son eats, I responsible for his diet.”
“Oh that? Pfft! I let someone else take care of all that for my kid…you’re feeding him the same stuff, right?
Yumi nodded while she stirred the pot. “Yes, he our guest.”
“Right, right, well I guess it’s okay since your son beat my son and all, you must be doing somethin’ right,” replied Helena while chomping on the apple.
At this time, Akira sneaked down to the kitchen area, pausing when he saw the swaying behinds of Helena and his mother. He watched them both, admiring in equal parts the firm tightness of Helena’s behind, and the beauty and grace of his mother’s juicy butt. Then, Helena left, leaving Akira to gaze exclusively at his mother. The perverted son was longing and lusting, locked on his mother’s amazingly curvaceous behind, the ultra-tight, super-tiny black shorts making his mother’s derrière just pop.
Then, David came in, entering from the backdoor. He paused when he saw Akira, standing by a shelf, watching from afar. From closer analysis, David could clearly see that Akira was checking out his mother’s ass. This David was disturbed by: seeing his girlfriend’s son just stuck, looking, not moving, his hands rubbing against his pants as he watched his very own mother in such a dirty, dirty way. David had to step in.
“Ahem, hey Son,” David said quietly, patting his entranced surrogate son on the shoulder.
“Oh!” Akira leapt, shaken by the intrusion. “Ah, umm, hello.” Akira turned and briskly walked up the stairs.
David knew what that body language, surprise, shock, and look all meant: Akira had been caught doing something dirty. Having countless similar experiences with Mike, David was confident in his assertion: Akira was perving on his mother. Setting the experience aside for the moment, David approached his woman.
“Hello, Yumi,” he got behind her, kissed her cheek and patted her bum.
“Hello,” she said with a warm smile.
“Umm, everything been okay?”
“How about the new arrivals?”
Yumi put her spatula near her lips while thinking, “Umm, Rob, he good boy, he nice, but his mother…” she looked to the side before saying, “She bad, bad woman.”
“Hmm, well, she does seem a little…Don’t worry, we’ll sort out any problems –” David paused when he remembered a problem he’d just discovered: Yumi’s son having the hots for his own mother.
“Hmm? Anything I need to know?” she asked.
Seeing that she was already burdened with Helena-related problems, David decided to keep this issue to himself.
“Nothing, nothing to worry about.”
“Okay. We talk when dinner done, okay?”
“Yes dear,” David bent down, kissed Yumi’s cream-coated lips, and then exited the kitchen, determined to deal with this issue personally.
David went up the stairs, onward to Akira’s room for a much needed talk.
Akira jolted awake from his mid-evening slumber.
“Ahem, come, come.”
“It’s me,” David creaked open the door, “Can we talk?”
“Oh yes, yes.” Akira sat on his bed.
“Good, yeah,” David sat next to him. “Now, we’ve not talked much, have we? Like, not really talk?”
Akira nodded. “Yes.”
“Yes, yeah, see, well, there’s some…things I think need explaining, things about me and your mother.”
“We’re together, like, really together,” David rubbed his hands together to illustrate his vague point. “We’re a couple, yes, understand that?”
“Yes, I, ah, do.”
“Meaning we…do things together, romantic things…sexual things.”
That set a spark off in Akira’s gut. “Yes, I understand.”
“Good, because, well, I’m just going to say it…I saw you.”
Akira gave David a blank look. He scratched his index finger on his cheek and replied, “Saw…me? I not understand.”
“I saw you…in the kitchen…looking at your mother…in a bad way, a wrong way.”
Akira felt a tinge of pain in his chest: he’d been caught, his sacred secret semi-exposed. He didn’t have a response, so he just stared at the ground.
“And, Son, it’s….well it’s not okay, but you’re not in trouble. Maybe things were different back in Japan, I don’t know, maybe you thought it was fine to look at her body in that way, but now, Son, it’s not, because she’s my woman and she’s your mother. Those lines are clear, you understand?”
Akira understood, and he understood the position David was in. Yet, inside him, little fireflies of jealousy flickered around, leaving behind sinister thoughts: “You’re being told what to do by this man, this man that’s not even your father? This man that has openly defiled your mother? You saw what we did to her in the bedroom! Why are you taking crap from him, why him? Why!”– Akira shut the voices out within seconds. He overpowered his emotions, and came to a tactile decision.
“I sorry,” he said with his eyes locked on David, “I…sorry and not do it again.”
“Good, good,” he gingerly patted young Akira on the back, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it to myself, once is okay, because, I mean, Jesus, if I had a mother who looked like that! I’m sure I’d check out her butt, too!”
Akira didn’t fully comprehend the joke, but he understood the context: “Yes, funny. But I sorry, really, I not do again, thank you Sir for…thank you,” he said with a half-smile.
David stood up, “Glad we got that all dealt with. So… see ya at dinner.”
“Yes, sorry, again.”
David smiled before closing the door. “Forget about it, it’s all fine.”
Door shut, Akira laid on his bed, thinking one thing, one conclusion: he needed to be more careful when checking out his mom.
It was dinner time for the Rochefort-Shibata clan and their guests the Roberts. David sat at the head of the table, to his left Yumi and to his right Akira. Seated next to Akira was Robert, next to Yumi was Helena, Mike was at the far end.
Whilst eating, Robert talked fighting techniques with Akira.
“So when you go for the takedown, you should really put your shoulders into it,” advised Robert. “Tackle, then go for the legs.”
Akira nodded intently. “Yes, ah yes, okay, okay.”
Yumi was happy to see her son making friends, but was also wary of Helena, the blonde bombshell gazing with menacing lusting eyes at the two teen boys.
“Ah, Helena,” said Yumi, trying to draw Helena’s attention away from the boys.
“Umm, please, tell us about you and your son.”
This question stumped Helena. “Hmm, well, you know about my son over there, he’s a prodigy, you know that? Haha, his talent is something else, he’s so going to rebound from this loss, isn’t that right, Son?”
Robert stuck his thumb out and winked. “Yeah!”
“Well, anyway, you asked about me? Well, I’m from North Carolina, you know where that is Yumi?”
“Yeah, we’re from a small town, but we’re working our way up thanks to my boy’s talent, uh-huh, our way into the good life is all on him. And you asked me what my ideal man is, right, Yumi?”
“Well, I’d say, hmm, gots to be young, oh I like ’em young. Sorry, Son, but I wanna keep dating boys around your age.”
Robert looked at his plate and said quietly, “I know Mom, I know.”
“That’s right, umm, oh yeah, they gots to be toned, a toned body is a must, oh, and dark hair, love the dark hair – oh, oh and tanned! I like my men to be bronzed,” as she listed these attributes, Helena stretched her leg forward and wiggled her toes around Akira’s shin. Not aware of the signals she was sending, Akira thought Helena had mistakenly lodged her foot on his leg. Though he felt it was innocent, his member didn’t: it went from semi to full.
“And,” Helena quickly pulled her foot back before getting caught, “He has to be a sweetheart.”
“Wow,” said Mike. “If you don’t mind me saying, I think you’re gorgeous Miss Richards, inside and out.”
“Hey!” said Robert, “That’s my mom you’re talking to.”
“It’s fine,” Helena said with a big smile, “He’s just giving a compliment. Thank you so much, little boy. I’m sure your parents are very proud of you.”
“Uhh,” Yumi tapped Helena on the shoulder and pointed out David.
“Oh shoot,” giggled Helena. “I keep forgetting who he is.”
“I don’t think he minds,” said David.
“Yeah, it’s okay,” replied Mike, “I don’t mind when pretty women forget who I am.”
Everyone smiled and laughed. Surprisingly, the dinner was full of much joy and warmth, everyone having a good time. As the dinner went on, Yumi became less and less focused on Helena, and more on her boyfriend and her family, seeing them happy, the easy life glowing in front of her. In fact, Yumi was starting to warm to Helena, as shown by this exchange:
While David was talking to the boys, Helena leaned over to Yumi and whispered in her ear. “Hey, just curious here,” Helena pointed to two table knifes: a butter knife and a longer meat cutting one, “Out of the two….which is closer to your man’s pecker?”
Yumi blushed and giggled like a schoolgirl. “Oh, oh, easy, easy,” she pointed to the long knife, her finger tapping it with rapid strikes. “This, this, this.”
They both burst into laughter, both women giggling together.
After everyone had finished eating, they all went to their respective bedrooms. Inside the master bedroom, Yumi expressed her surprise.
“Day-vid, Helena, she okay, yes? When she said Akira a handsome boy, she was just being polite, yes? That what women in America do…right?”
“Oh I’m sure that’s it,” he said from the adjunct bathroom.
“Hmm…still, Day-vid, I worry about Helena, I don’t know, her looks to Akira, that, hmm…I don’t know.”
“Her looks to Akira?” David was bemused by that comment. “Yumi, you think she has her sights on Akira? I mean, sure, he’s a good-looking boy, I can see girls taking in an interest in him, but not a full-grown woman like Helena.”
“Hmm, I don’t know, Day-vid…maybe…I think you’re right, yes, I just being silly.”
David opened the bathroom door and came striding out. His built body was gleaming wet, his white boxers showing a clear python-like outline. Yumi blushed, and felt her panties get immediately damp.
David strode over to his woman and held her in his strong arms. “Yumi, there’s nothing to worry about, there’s no way Helena would want your son in that way, no, not even possible, so please, don’t worry. And, Yumi, if you’re still worried, I can make her leave, just say the word and she’ll be gone in the morning.”
Yumi considered that for a second, but shook her head. “No, no, Akira have friend, Akira need friend…I just being silly, I think too much, I just worry about nothing.”
He kissed her cheek. “Everything will be fine, promise.”
“Thank you,” Yumi was fully reassured by her man’s words. So, after her motherly fears and concerns were washed away, Yumi felt herself slipping into her primal womanly state, ready for duty.
“Now,” he grabbed her shorts, peeled them down, and took a good, hard feel of her juicy butt, “Let’s have some fun.”
Yumi felt a strong surge of warmth quell up inside her as David groped her backside.
“Yes, please,” she said with a wet smile and happy nod.
So while Yumi and David engaged in their heated attempts to improve race-relations, in the bathroom, Akira, in his shorts, was finishing brushing his teeth. He was on his way to his bed, when, suddenly, the door opened, and, stood in front of him was a tall, leggy woman. His mouth hit the floor when he saw her step out of the shadows and into the bathroom.
“Whoops? You ain’t done yet, sweetie?” Helena asked innocently, her tone not at all matching her attire: she was clad in nothing but her bright lingerie: a stripped pink bra and matching frilly thong. Her dynamite body had lit up the dimly-lit room, her skin radiating, exuding sensual confidence, all the while acting like she’d done nothing wrong, looking like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.
Akira took a big gulp. “I, I, I –”
“Aw how cute, you look so embarrassed,” she bent down, her breasts right in Akira’s eyeline, her pretty blue eyes looking right into his soul. “Don’t be, it’s normal to get…” she looked down at his erect member, then, said with extra added spice: “Excited.”
Having her nearly-nude body so close to his drew a huge response from this excited demonic teen: Akira felt his body bubbling with hot emotion, it growing larger and larger with each passing second, his chest getting tighter, profuse amounts of sweat running down his face.
“I, umm, I,” words failed him; he was too lost in his emotions, unable to string a sentence together.
“Aw…cute.” Helena didn’t move, she just continued to look right into his eyes, smiling, transferring her wicked intentions – and he felt them, felt those thoughts hit his soul with an iron fist of sexual delight. As she carried on gazing at him, his breathing got heavier, suddenly, everything got slower, his mind getting sluggish. Then, a surge of new energy drifted in, taking over, leading his actions. Akira felt his hands twitch, moving finger by finger, his shoulders bucking, a set of unknown inputs downloaded, ready to be executed – but, before he could, she stood up and ended their eye contact.
“You’re a cute little thang” she said casually, “Gettin’ all worked up,” she scuffled his hair, then, kneeled down and kissed his forehead. The moment her lips touched his skin, the tight feelings all over his body went upward and submerged to that spot, resting and festering.
Helena turned and walked back through the shadows, Akira’s eyes locked on her thong-adored toned behind.
“Hey, if it eva’ gets too cold ’round here,” she said in a hushed tone, “You can always snuggle up with me… I’ll keep you warm, honey.” she smiled with a devilish red glimmer in her eyes. She then walked away silently, through the darkness.
Akira tried to compose himself, but couldn’t stop shaking. Then, he touched his forehead, where Helena had kissed him, felt around the area, then, looked at his fingers. He saw red. Thinking it was lipstick, he tried rubbing it off, but instead… it dripped off. It was blood: bright red blood.
Ch.04: Burst Limit
This bright sunny day started like any other for the domesticated Yumi Shibata: naked, on top, riding her white American lover David.
“Hmmm, keep going, that’s it,” he said as he kept his eyes firmly locked on his beautiful partner, her angelic face looking down at him with a sweat-stained glee, her breasts bouncing as his quick release got closer.
“Har-der?” she asked.
“Please,” he put his hands on her enviable butt, and held on tightly as he felt a huge rush coming from his member, his sex-powered Asian dynamo having rode him to completion.
“Ohhh, I love it, love…” he pulled her down and gave her a passionate kiss on the lips. “Ohhhh I love it!”
“Me…too,” she gave him a warm, gentle smile, and then dismounted.
David watched Yumi walk naked around the bedroom, wiping down her milky-soft round sexy body with those satin bed sheets. This got David’s member more than semi-attentive: he felt another go-around was in the books – but then remembered he had to go to work. Business-minded David got out of his bed, put his robe on, and went onward to the shower, making sure he not look at his woman, as just one glance at her sweaty nude bouncy frame would have him and her back in that bed.
Outside, in the garden, Akira and Robert were training, working on their jabs. As they did some gentle sparing, Akira thought about the two women in his life: his mother Yumi and his friend’s mother Helena. Akira had blonde bombshell Helena foremost in his thoughts, remembering the events from that past night. As a teen that didn’t have much experience with the ladies, Akira summarised that Helena was not showing sexual affection, but instead was being polite, nice to him, showing him kindness, and nothing else…though he wasn’t fully convinced with that theory.
Having questions, Akira thought the best person to ask would be the person in front of him – Helena’s son Robert.
“Ahh, Robert,” he stopped fighting and stood still, “Umm, your mother, is she, ahh, umm, friendly to…boy?”
“Huh? Sorry dude, didn’t get that.”
“Umm, ahh, your mother is friendly woman to other boy? She…like boy?”
“Come on, dude,” Robert said with a snarl, “I don’t want to talk about my mom like that, okay? It’s not cool, I don’t like it when people at school do it, and I don’t like it when you do it, too. Seriously, if you weren’t my friend, I’d have punched you in the face already, so, please, don’t mention her.”
“I, ahh,” Akira was taken aback by the hostile reaction. “I, sorry, not happen again.”
“Thanks dude, now let’s try that up-kick.”
Back inside the house, in the spacious bathroom, inside the shower, David was scrubbing down, almost finished when Yumi walked in, holding her clothes and clad only in a robe.
“Yumi? That you?” he said from behind the curtain.
In that nanosecond, a naughty idea came into his head, one he couldn’t deny himself. David tore open the curtain, revealing his naked wet self.
“Yumi, I think I can use your help with something,” he said with a grin while holding his fully erect cock.
In that quick flash, Yumi’s womanly desires had taken over: her son’s pancakes could wait; first she needed to put her hands on her man’s thick member. Yumi tore her robe off and strode over to David.
“I think I help,” she said with a girly giggle. Yumi got behind David, placed her cheek on his broad rippling back, put one hand on his leg, and the other around his boa, tugging the wet, soapy instrument with her soft delicate hand.
“Ohhhh that’s it,” said David, “That’s the way.”
In the garden, Akira felt that familiar feeling from before, the same one he’d felt yesterday, the power that let him know that his parents were up to some torrid business. With that knowledge in mind, he threw a hard jab at Robert, who ducked and saw Akira’s fist land onto the grassy floor with a powerful boom.
“Oh damn, that was a heavy punch!” remarked Robert.
Akira picked himself back up, and saw that his glove was tattered into mangled pieces.
“Wow, how’d you do that?” asked Robert.
“I, I do not know,” Akira replied honestly. “…I, umm, get new glove from storage room, yes?”
Akira nodded, and went back into the house. As he trawled up the staircase, his feelings were proven true, as he heard the running shower, followed by the sounds of giggles, both male and female, his mother and David. Akira got to the 3rd floor, right next to the bathroom, and heard the vivid sounds of two bodies rubbing against one another, then, much to his surprise, he heard something he had first hand remembrance of: his mother’s hand on his member, tugging and releasing. Akira was quickly able to summarise what his mother’s dirty deed was.
Was Akira angry? No, not really. But was he jealous? Even he’d admit, yes, a little. But was he turned on by the fact that his hot Japanese mother was jerking off her white American lover in the shower? Oh hell yes. After a minute of listening in, Akira remembered what he came for – and also suddenly comprehended the risk of getting caught, so he reluctantly walked past the bathroom and went onward to the end of the hallway, to the storage closet.
Akira kept his steps short, letting his ears absorb the symphony of rub-and-tug. As Akira listened to the biracial sex acts, his member grew more erect, his body glowing bright red. Then, as he was walking, something caught his attention, a glimpse that he saw from the corner of his eye. Akira stopped, paused, and looked to his right. His parents had left their bedroom door wide open, and inside that room, dangling around the bedpost, was a piece of fabric flowing gently beneath the wind: his mother’s white frilly thong.
Akira tightened his body instantly when he saw it; his hands into fists, his toed curled, his mouth losing all its moisture, his eyes glued to the exotic taboo fabric. He admired the fine, delicate details: the strings, the bows, the satin, in addition to the knowledge that his mother wore this tantalising piece of clothing on her person, it tucked neatly into her most private region. The seconds ticked away as Akira remained frozen, inside him a raging storm emerging, filling up, up, till he felt the dormant powers awaken, they reaching him and bestowing him with his demonic ability of enhanced high-vision. Akira zoomed in and was able to see the greater details, and as the image got brighter and bolder, so did the revelations: He was able to see the small beads of vaginal sweat collected on the thong, stepping forward a little closer to see that this sweat was mixed in with his mother’s juices. Also, along the edge was one long dangling strand of jet-black hair, glued inside as a sordid reminder of his mother’s feminine instincts.
Akira had his hands to his sides as he watched this majestic vision, yet already he could feel his member reach boiling point. Then, Akira decided that looking was not enough, oh no: he had to do something which went against his morals, which showed disrespect towards his sacred mother: he had to expand his senses, go forward, and take a good long feel of the mouth-watering majesty.
Akira looked to the bathroom and heard the shower still running: he had time to do this. A massive inner turmoil went on inside him, with the darker forces persistent, so much so that they quickly turned his mind toward one conclusion: he had to get nearer. So Akira took small steps forward into the bedroom, tiptoeing, getting closer, closer, able to see the pure visceral energy springing out from his mother’s undergarment. Akira then got closer, closer, till he was at touching distance.
“Go on,” said that deep inner voice, making itself vocal inside Akira’s confused and conflicted head. “Touch, touch, hold, touch, hold, touch, hold.”
Akira tried lifting his arms so he could hold the holy cloth in his hands, but, much to his shock, his arms wouldn’t move. Not an even inch, they just would not budge; it was as if two heavy weights had been attached to each side. The champion fighter tried lifting his arms again, yet nothing, still too heavy. The demonic voice was fading: something had silenced it; Akira was back to lucid thought. Realising his predicament, and not wishing to be stuck in this compromising position, Akira thought it would be best to retreat from this battle. He turned his feet, ready to walk away, walk away from the warm heavenly bliss in front of him, deciding that this perverted detour was over…but, as he was already there, one quick inhale seemed like a good enough consolation. That wasn’t his demonic side talking, just his horny teen urges.
So, Akira got himself steady, pushed his head forward, opened his nostrils, and with his airways wide open, he inhaled.
“Hmmm,” in that brief split-second, he was not in the Rochefort home, nor America, nor anywhere in that world: he was transported to a garden of roses, the aroma a combined mixture of his mother’s scent, the sweetest roses, and the freshest of airs, his body regenerated, a bright light filling him with a soothing warmth …but then, he came back, his eyes open, looking at his mother’s thong. Then, in slow-motion, Akira saw a circle develop around the thong, this circle pulsating with a hum, growing larger, larger. Before Akira could figure out what was going on, the shockwave of energy burst and sent him flying to the floor.
“What?” he asked himself as he lay on his back, he seemingly having been thrown to the floor by the scent of his mother’s thong. Akira jumped up and walked backwards, still bemused. Then, while in this trance, he bumped into something, something long, hard, and fleshy.
“Well, ain’t you just a naughty little oriental boy?”
Akira turned around and saw Helena Roberts, a towel around her body, her hands behind her back, giving him a devilish, knowing grin.
Akira rushed out of the room and tried covering himself up.
“No, I, I, umm, I not do bad, I not do bad.”
“Oh hush honey-monster,” she replied. “You ain’t done nuthin’ wrong, you were just being a boy is all.” Helena looked inside the bedroom. “Is that the kinda underwear she wearing? Huh? Pretty run-of-the-mill if you ask me.” Helena put her hands to her front, showing that she was holding her clothes. She then looked through them, picked one piece out, and what she held in her fingers made Akira burst in an instant. No pre-cum, just the real deal flowing down his legs in a sign of youthful exuberance.
“I see Mr. Happy just let himself out!” she giggled while holding, in her fingers, her Victoria’s Secret, crimson red, all-over lace thong.
“You need to work on that whole premature releasin’ thang, it’s somethin’ us ladies ain’t impressed by…but you doing it, I find it kinda cute.”
Akira held his pants and tightened his legs, overcome by the lust in front of him, behind him, and to the side. He had to retreat, so he dashed into the storage room and shut it tight. Inside that room, his mind was shut, not thinking, just listening. He first heard Helena giggle, then, his parents coming out of the shower.
“Had fun?” asked Helena.
“Ahh, umm,” Yumi, wearing her robe, had her hair soaked and her cheeks a bright shade of red. “You can use now…”
“Is it clean? I know a couple like you in love an’ all is gonna be releasin’ lots of love’ cream.”
“It’s, it’s clean,” replied a quite embarrassed robe-clad David. He grabbed Yumi’s shoulders and sped the two of them down the stairs.
“Aw don’t be all embarrassed now!” said Helena, “You only doing what comes natural…what ‘comes’ natural, haha, I’m funny,” Helena went inside and slammed the bathroom door shut. But, seconds later, it opened, and Helena’s bare feet could be heard approaching Akira’s little hole. She opened the closet door, finding him in a crotched position.
“Here,” she threw a roll of tissues at him, “I think you’ll need them.”
After finishing up in the closet, Akira rushed back to the field. Robert wasn’t happy with this late arrival:
“Dude!? You’ve been gone for twenty minutes!”
“Sorry, replied Akira, “Your mother –”
Robert raised his voice, “My mom!? What!? What she do!?”
“…She and I talk.”
“For that long? You can barely speak English! Fuck! Something weird is going on, I’m going to speak to her.”
Robert threw his gloves down and stormed into the house.
Akira felt bad about making his friend angry, so he followed him into the house to apologise, but stopped when he heard Helena shouting at her boy.
“You want WHAT!?”
“Just, just a little to tide me over,” said Robert, “Please, just a feel, or a touch, just one handjob, and I’ll be good.”
“Was I born yesterday? You ain’t getting’ nothin’ boy, how clear did I make that? No kisses, no handjobs, blowjobs, rimjobs, none of it till you go and win a God damn belt! You know what you get if you do that? Me, naked in your race car bed, chips, coke, lotion, oils, we’ll do it all night! But you ain’t gettin’ it now.”
Robert rubbed himself. “Hmmm, that sounds soooo~ good. Please, the next tournament is not for months, I can’t wait that long, please give me something before that.”
“Hmm,” Helena rubbed her chin, “How about puttin’ a whooping on that kid?”
Thankfully, Akira didn’t understand what Helena had said as he could only hear raised, mumbled voices.
“Mom~,” replied Robert, “He’s my friend, I don’t want to fight him at his house.”
“Your friend? He ended your undefeated record! He’s your enemy, no friends in fighting! Look, if you ever want this,” Helena turned around and shook her butt, “Yeah? This rump in your face, you beat him – and beat him good.”
Robert sighed. “Fine…I’ll challenge him to a fight, but what do I get if I win?”
“Strip club special: You get a lapdance, you can cop a feel within reachin’ distance, no pussy though. Pay me a hundred for a blowjob.”
Before Robert could reach for the door, Akira leapt away to a safe distance.
Back on the field, Robert came rushing over to Akira with added vigour in his step.
“Akira! Me! You! I want my rematch! Here, nine, let’s do it!”
Akira didn’t understand perfect English – but he was fluent in fighting talk.
The two teens shook on it and went their separate ways to train.
As Akira walked down the field, the patio door opened. It was Helena, clad in a pink robe.
“Psst, Aki-ara, Aki-ara.”
Despite her mispronunciation, Akira went over to her.
“Hey, listen, if you go ahead and win, you know his deal? You get it.”
“…I not understand.”
“You get what he gets for winning! Me! You get me!”
“I get…you? For?”
Helena threw her hands up in the air.
“Jesus-H-Christ,” she put her hands on his cheeks, leaned down and spoke very slowly: “If. You. Win. Your. Fight. You and me. We will have sex, okay? We will have sex, me and you, together.”
The light finally shone. “Oh…oh! Really!?”
“Yes, really, and remember this when you train,” Helena looked around, then put her hands down low, brushed aside her robe, pulled her thong down, and revealed a new wonder in Little Aki’s universe.
“Look ‘er boy: this ain’t no fluffy fur show like your mama got going on: This full, bare, naked, good-ol’-girl pussy.”
As he gazed upon this new discovery of tasty bare flesh, marvelling at the quivering lips and salivating at the yummy-looking pink meat, Akira felt his energy meter go all the way to purple. He couldn’t waste time just looking: he had to fight for the right to lick it!
“Osu!” he turned and ran.
“Heh, boys…They’d kill for a slice of pussy, hee-hee.”
Final Chapter: I’ll Be Ready
Back in Japan, Yumi Shibata was a world champion-calibre martial artist. In her prime, her body was sculpted from years of hard, diligent training. Even as a mother, she found time to do her daily chores, an hour of tantric crowd-pleasing yoga, and working out with weights, all with the aim of keeping herself in tip-top fit fighting shape. But, after moving away from her homeland, things had changed…
Yumi in America had her days mapped out like this: after she’d given her boyfriend morning sex and/or a handjob in the shower, she served her son and Mike their breakfast. Later that morning she spent around thirty-minutes doing some yoga positions – and only those positions that kept her flexible in the bedroom. After that was done, she went back to her comfy bed, falling blissfully asleep, planning to wake whenever the warm breeze brushed against her face.
On this day, after having given her man his morning release, laid out her son’s breakfast, and finished her relaxing yoga session, she was off to bed to sleep the morning away. Little she knew that her laissez-faire way of mothering was coming back to bite her on her round juicy butt…
Back on the field, Akira was training like he’d never had before, his speed, power, at new, higher levels, pushing himself to the limits for this contest.
Mike, holding pancakes, was the first to notice the spilt in the camps. Able to see the two of them on far ends of the field, he quickly made his choice and went over to his pseudo step-brother.
“Hey, Akira, you missed breakfast, I got you some. Hey, what’s up with you and Robert training alone?”
“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.”
“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.
“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.
“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.
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:
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.
Yumi kept going, her body pushing past its limits, she filling the floor with copious amounts of sweat, her right hand a bright shade of red, yet she soldiered on, sucking, tugging, all the way to the finish line. “Hmm, hmm, hmm….ohhhhh, I feel it, Son, Son, SON!” even her weather detector couldn’t forecast this shower: with her face level with his cock, it came out with as much velocity as a speeding, hungry cheetah, the force of it like a Tiger Uppercut to the face, resulting in a resounding…
“Okay, let’s do it,” she said to her boy Akira
while biting her lower lip.
“Yes! That’s my girl!” Akira slapped his mother‘s butt, grabbed her hand and went up the three flights of stairs, all the way to the bedroom. Minutes later, they were warming their bodies together, locked in a naked embrace.
David, while in the middle of an uppercut, suddenly paused: he felt a deep, dark shiver.
“You all right, dad?” asked Mike.
Then, seconds later, David felt an otherworldly force shift his attention from the punching bag to the third floor middle window: his mom and Akira’s bedroom.
“Umm, sorry,” he said while trying to shake off the feelings – but already deep under their spell. “I…I, I go…inside, to… bathroom.”
Akira turned and walked briskly into the house. He couldn’t explain his motives or his actions, just a sudden, loud urge to go upstairs, all the way to his surrogate son‘s room. He dashed up the stairs, his body under the half-control of something he couldn’t explain, but something that was undoubtedly on David‘s side – his horny side, that is. When David got to the top, he heard a series of unfamiliar sounds: shuffling, squeaking and muffled yelps. Heavily intrigued, Akira found the amazing truth when he got closer to the door.
“Ohhhhh!” Yumi groaned in a tone her surrogate man had never heard before: pleading, moaning. “Ohhhhhh, so good, so good, yes! Ohhhh!”
David parted open the door, and saw a wonderful, beautiful sight: his naked Japanese woman on top, her jet-black hair flowing, head arched back, a look of serene pleasure on her pretty face as she gently and elegantly swivelled her hips. A pretty vista indeed, but better was to come: David pushed his head forward and got himself a good, hard look at his mother’s breasts and butt, bouncing in perfect motion to the tide.
As David gazed inside this bright, glowing room, he saw the recipient of this angelic love, Akira, lying flat on his back, naked, legs out stretched, his hands clasped around Yumi’s hips. David, of course, never knew that his Asian woman and surrogate son had incestuous sexual intercourse, but seeing it with his own eyes, seeing his Japanese woman‘s naked body on top of her Japanese incestuous taboo lover’s tall, imposing frame, having visual evidence of the incestuous joys they experienced, actually watching them go at it, was a whole new emotional sensation for this teen. David crotched down and watched as they carried on with their lovemaking.
“Hmmm, oh baby,” said Akira as he took a big feel of Yumi’s juicy butt cheeks, groping and slapping them gently. Yumi hummed in pleasure as this man took control of her body. Seeing her positive response to his efforts, he decided to up the tempo: Akira pulled down his tasty Japanese mother/lover, grabbed both her ass cheeks, and placed his lips over hers.
“Ah, yes, yes!” she said as she kissed him, Yumi immensely turned on by the domination her son/man was showcasing.
“Hmm, Mom, oh baby, yes!” Akira exchanged loving kisses with Yumi, while also keeping a strong, firm grip on her butt cheeks. Both loving and strong, Akira was displaying all the attributes that made him become the man Yumi wanted.
“Yes, baby! Yes! Yes!” he said as he drilled his cock inside her, moving his large frame with natural masculine finesse.
Since being with Yumi, Akira had added muscle to his body and cardio to his workout, his committed incestuous relationship with his gorgeous Asian mother/woman having made his daily gym and martial arts visits a much-worthy investment of his time. As evidenced by his performance in the bedroom, Akira was successful in transforming himself into a man who didn’t just bring home the bacon – he also brought home the beef. And it showed too.
“Ohh! Ahh, so hard, ohh so hard, ah, ah!” Yumi groaned in response, fully embracing the role of the submissive damsel, her strong knight having his way with her.
As the happy couple kept at it, David watched while pleasuring himself, an action both out of habit and from choice. The usually selfless, level-headed husband was getting perhaps a little envious of the man that was performing passionate sexual acts to his cherished woman. Akira felt more tinges of envy when he saw exactly what Akira was sticking inside his mother: his large bare cock. Akira then turned to his side, letting David get a good look at his woman‘s whole backside as Akira slammed his large tree trunk past her dark bushy wilderness area.
“Ohhhh,” she moaned into his shoulder. “Ohhh, ohhhh, Aki–ira, Aki–ira, ohhhhh, oh, ohhhhh!”
Akira was going hard, Yumi surrendering, allowing her son/man to do as he will, allowing him to use her as his primal release vassal. Akira was seeing a whole new side to his mother, she no longer the strong, confident woman that Akira knew, she having turned into something different, something unfamiliar to the boy that had known her for her whole life: Akira saw his mother as a kept woman.
The dynamics were as clear as day: Akira was in complete control, his hands and stance dictating where his mother/woman went. David was in awe as he watched Akira slam his cock in and out, smacking it in with no attempts at giving pleasure, just receiving. David had thought Akira was a totally passive man, but Akira proved he wasn’t, because what David saw was a man that was embracing his masculinity to the fullest. Akira was a nice guy, oh for sure, a great man, a good person, but, also, an alpha male that loved sex his way, in 100% complete control. And Yumi? She loved being that kind of woman, loved being his woman, the woman who, in no better terms, went into that bedroom, stripped naked, got on her back, opened her legs, and proudly became his undeniable bitch. That, the deeper context of what Akira was seeing, his woman and son-figure in this most primal act, was much more taboo than the actual sexual acts. It was something no husband should ever watch, something David should not have been watching…but he carried on regardless.
“Uh! Uh! Uh!” Akira grunted in Japanese loudly, proudly, letting his manliness come through. “Oh yeah baby, yeah, mom, hmmm, come on baby, oh yeah, mommy! Yes, yes, yes! Yes!”
Akira held Yumi’s leg while slamming deeper, faster. At that angle, David could see the penetration, the long instrument violating his woman‘s most sacred area. Akira focused harder, harder than ever, and with his strong resolve, a new power was awoken: To David‘s amazement, he was able to enhance his vision to inhuman levels. This was a gift from the one that rested inside him, giving David the ability to see the action in crystal-clear clarity. This HD-zoom set David well over the edge of erotic sanity; pants off, his hand around Little Aki, he watched with focused intent as the juices flew out of his woman‘s vagina, the liquids roaring out with each hard thrust of Akira’s iron rod.
“Ohhh yeah, yes, yes, yes!” he said loudly, his victorious cries echoing around the room, and into the halls. “Yes, yes, ohhhh baby!”
Despite their lovemaking having gone past thirty heavy-packed minutes, Akira still had much left in his tank: he turned around, got on his back, and got Yumi on top, riding him, but with no elegant grace this time around, just a sweaty cum-stained bitch jumping up-and-down her son/man’s big cock.
“Ohhh! Aki–ira, Aki–ira!” she squealed. “Let me, let me, please…” Yumi put her hands on Akira’s chest and got ready to show him her newest sexual technique: with his cock still inserted inside her, she spun her body around, and in a flash, had transitioned into reverse cowgirl position.
“Ohhhhh I love you so much,” he said outloud, so moved by his Japanese lover/mom‘s sexual prowess. With her back to him, she grinded harder, deeper, shaking her sexy butt, her body quivering from all the titanic pleasure.
“Oh Aki–ira! Ahhh! Ahhhh!” she shouted in a totally pleading, submissive tone, the message coming in loud and clear: I’m yours, take me.
“Oh, yes, yes, yes!” said Akira as Yumi shook the bed with her hard rhythmic grinding
Akira was a sweaty wreck as this all went on, he stunned beyond belief that this naked, groaning, cock-loving woman that he was fucking was his very own mother. For his finish, David set his zoom to max, and saw a perversely beautiful set of images: His woman‘s dark black vaginal hair sweeping against the breeze, the individual beads of sweat rolling down her milky skin, and her soft, mouth-watering, cotton candy-like nipples, all topped off by the most powerful image of them all: his woman‘s nude body trembling in anticipation for her finale, her crescendo, her orgasm.
“Hurr! Hurr!” Akira said outloud as he slapped Yumi on the tush. Now, Akira’s rocket was at full, the big one ready to fire with a scorching, inferno-like blast off.
Yumi was groaning loudly, her mouth wide open as she felt it all rising up inside: “Ah! Ah! Ah! Aki–ira! Ah, ah, ah!!!”
Akira also felt it, felt it all roaring inside him. “Ohhhh Mom, Yumi, Yumi, I’m cumming“
Yumi groaned, “Fill me, yeah, baby with your cum. Fill my cunt with your delicious cummmmmmm.”
Yumi’s fell on her back, the force of the impact a shock which had its evidence splattered all over the ceiling. Even for someone that had seen as much as she had, it was still a major shock to rub her fingers over her face and feel only creamy liquid. Indeed, this tidal wave of white sparkling teen lust was on every part of Yumi’s face, dripping off individual strands of her delicate black hair, sliding down her high cheekbones, on top of her oval eyes, and on her once-pink glossy lips. Yumi then opened her mouth to gasp, and had only milky sweetness pouring inside it.
“…Amazing…oh!” she stood right up and checked on her boy. “Son, are you –” she stopped when she heard a comforting sound all parents are happy to hear: the gentle breathing of their sleeping child.
Yumi let out a long deep sigh, she so, so relieved, so happy, her actions not at all registering in her mind: all she was at that moment was a happy mother. After a minute of this calm, gentle peace, her mind turned to the person she knew was responsible for all this chaos: Helena Roberts.
Yumi had finally pieced together Helena’s plan, and finally saw Helena for what she truly was: A conniving succubus. But, before Yumi could execute her ass-kicking, she saw a familiar white substance all over her hands: the evidence had to be hidden or else the others in the house would think two things: she did something unspeakable to her son, or, she was channelling a kabuki. So, Yumi grabbed a nearby shirt, hurriedly cleaned her face and chest, threw the shirt on the floor, and stomped over to the door, her mind focused on one question: 10-hit combo or 12?
Yumi ripped the door open, slammed it shut, turned, and bumped right into the forgotten man: David Rochefort.
“Yumi,” he said with an expression of his she’d never seen before: solemn seriousness.
“What…what just happened? What has happened here? Yumi, could you please tell me why my son is muttering about demons? Please tell me why Helena is packing her bags and looking to bolt out of this house? Please explain the odd noises you just made with your son in that bedroom? And please,” he paused to point at her chin, “Please explain why you have that dripping out of your mouth?”
Yumi brushed her hand over her lips and saw a clear white substance. She had no response.
“Yumi…You wanna try explaining yourself?”