Pakistani Asma Nasir

This can be read and enjoyed as a stand-alone story, but deeper character depth and the effects of the plots, rivalries, twists and turns of Asma’s sexual journey will be found by reading the entire series.

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The Pakistani refugee Asma lay on her bed in her working-class, western suburb, rented Government house in Melbourne, idly playing with her clit. Her conscious mind hardly registered the pleasure this action was sending through her body. Her mind was elsewhere. Three days earlier she had noticed that the Vietnamese woman Ai, her closest friend at Victoria University, looked sad and somewhat down. Finally, her persistent questioning paid off and Ai reluctantly explained she and her eldest daughter were to have a doubles sexfight contest, but her daughter now could not participate. That meant that Ai’s reputation would be trashed for pulling out and apart from the shame of avoiding a fight she would have difficulty in obtaining future betting contests.

Asma’s question was, “What is a sexfight?”

When Ai explained she immediately offered her services to replace Ai’s daughter Tranh. Being a minority North Vietnamese arrival with few Vietnamese friends in Australia, as the defeated refugees from the South still hated their Northern cousins even though the war had ended nearly 50 years before, Ai had no options and accepted the offer. Asma would be having her first sexfight in four days time on Saturday night.

Thinking of Ai made her think of their lovemaking which had begun a couple of weeks ago and, if anything since then, had intensified. Her fingers quickened when she switched on her phone and replayed a video that the petite 46-year-old Vietnamese had sent to her of the two of them joined by a flexible double dildo entwined in 69, then cutting into Asma using a strap on her lover. She searched her phone for the images of herself at a Vietnamese wedding Ai had taken her to. There she had, along with the other finalists, discarded her micro lurex nightdress to parade topless in her thong and heels at the beauty contest final. She noticed there was a missed message from Victoria University. Asma opened it and read how she had topped the first-semester Business Studies results.

In the last three months, her life had changed. She had morphed like a caterpillar does into a butterfly. No longer bound by tradition and her burqa, she attended University (albeit as a Government assisted entrant at Victoria’s least prestigious university so that unemployment numbers would be lower) in modern sexy clothes Ai had bought for her and kept at her house. Even at home, she wore a thong and open bra beneath her shapeless chador, and Ai was teaching her to drive. A woman driving a car. Unheard of in her hometown northwest city of Peshawar, in the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province.

The family had arrived in Australia 4 years ago by the traditional route. They had saved their money, bought a flight to Indonesia, contacted the people smugglers, destroyed their passports and paid the money for a seat on a fishing boat. After 2 days the boat been intercepted by the Australian navy and her family along with the others on the boat was taken for processing at Christmas Island which was closer to Indonesia than Australia but gave them Australian sanctuary and finally, processing for entry to Australia.

There was only one thing missing in her new life: cock. Her 52-year-old husband was 6 years older than her and was a traditionalist. A wife was for producing children, and once she was pregnant nothing further happened under the sheets until another child was needed. It was now 12 years since they had last fucked, if you could call the 5 minutes it took of which 3 minutes was him undressing fucking. A short missionary union till he came with no thought of her needs. His real pleasure had been the whores he visited regularly back home, and many of her friends had told her he was a frequent visitor of the hairdresser and massage shops here. Though it was long ago she still remembered the thick cock he wielded.

She was a tall 5ft 7, had a longer face than many of the Indians over the border which was highlighted with dark, memorising eyes and prominent eyebrows. Her nose was sharp and hooked gave her an aristocratic look. She had nicely shaped, full, slightly hanging 34C tits, a rounded belly and a womanly arse that was still firm. Many said she reminded them of Pakistan’s first female president, Benazir Bhutto. Moreover, like most women from the subcontinent she had a full mat of pubic hair. Attractive for her age? Yes, but it did not matter with her husband’s lack of interest in her.

She thought longingly of his cock. It was longer than most at 9 inches, but nothing when compared to the black cocks she had seen on the net. But its girth: her husband’s meat was far, far thicker than those black cocks. It was considerably wider than a beer can and had several lead pencil-thick veins standing out on the shaft which ended in a thick bulbous helmet far broader than the shaft. Pity he didn’t want to use it on her. The lack of cock and the fact he was bringing out a second wife, ostensibly as her niece, were the only downsides to her life, along with the fact her youngest daughter now shunned her preferring a depraved life with her Sudanese university friends. She wondered if the Pakistani 18-year-old woman she was sponsoring as a niece, but actually to be a second wife for Afsar, would be able to take it fully as she had in the distant past.

Asma was changing for bed when she heard movement in the corridor. Samreen, her youngest daughter, was living away from home at the University hostel and her husband Afsar was with his cronies at the coffee hookah shop. It had to be her 18-year-old son Fahad. Unbeknown to him she had seen him fist his cock and cum 3 days before in the bathroom. She had masturbated thinking of it. She listened intently and heard heavy breathing in the corridor. Instead of putting on her nightgown she lay on the bed and spread her legs and played with her clit and tits like a stepmother in a Japanese JAV video. Her breathing quickened before degenerating into moans as she came for the unseen watcher outside the partly open door. She smiled as she heard footsteps rush to the bathroom and the door slam.

The next morning at breakfast she noticed Fahad’s nervousness and worried appearance, but she acted normally, and he slowly relaxed. That evening as he studied, she knocked on the door and entered his bedroom. His frantic movements showed he had been flogging his cock watching porn. She sat beside her thin-bodied, nerdish looking, bespectacled 18-year-old son and said, “We need to talk, my son. I don’t know how to say this.”

Again, the worry appeared on his face, but she continued as though nothing was happening. “I know year 12 is so stressful, and it’s so important for you to get to Melbourne Uni.” She plunged ahead. There could be no turning back now. Her rehearsed speech poured out. “I have seen on the internet that Chinese and Japanese students have even more stress than here with the pressure of exams and that mothers in those countries help their son’s stress.”

His blank look showed whatever porn he was chasing on the net did not include that news. “Like this,” she continued and reached across to place her hand on his cock and stroke it through his pyjamas. “I know I don’t attract you because I am your mother and old, not like what you can see on the net, but you could watch porn while I do it to you if that helps. I want this, my son.” His cock was rising like the afternoon temperature in the Sahara Desert as he turned to her and said, “I don’t need to watch porn.”‘

Asma was taken aback at the monster growing within her son’s pyjamas. He was so thin and looked malnourished. How could this thing be part of his body? She placed her other hand in his pyjamas and grasped his cock with both as you would a two-handed sword. Amazingly five inches or so still protruded past her grip. The throbbing length of his huge rod pushed the thin folds of his pyjamas out, straining for escape. But Asma kept it imprisoned inside, steadily stroking the rigidly pulsing flesh with her fingers. Fahad was breathing faster from her handwork, and she shivered with anticipation. She removed her hands and let her chador fall to the ground. Her son’s eyes took in his mother wearing only a minuscule black thong. She could feel her twitching cunt begin to seep warm, moist fluid, soaking the thin silk of the thong as she ground her smooth round arse cheeks down against the seat of the chair beside the one her son sat on at his computer.

“Aaghhhhh,” her son groaned as her moving hand, once again inside his pyjamas, was rubbing in little circles over his cock, using the material of his pyjamas to rub and arouse the blood-engorged glans into near-explosion. She removed one hand from his cock and slid it along her sleek inner thigh, and her fingers found and removed her wet thong. She wormed her outstretched middle finger into her slit entrance, dipping the fingertip into the slippery juices of her throbbing vagina, causing a low, soft moan of sheer animalistic pleasure to escape her throat.

Fahad’s eyes followed his mother’s middle finger as it went deep into the clasping pussy while her forefinger found the quivering miniature phallus of her aroused clit. She began to slowly thrust and caress her clit back and forth until she was grinding her hips faster and faster down against the seat, her loins hungrily surging upward against her fingers as if trying to beckon them deep inside her love cavity.

“Aaaaaggghhh, hhmmmmmmmm!” she groaned.”

The hand imprisoning his cock released the one-eyed snake to the warm air of the house and she began slowly to stroke and tease the fully visible eleven inches of fuck meat and the sensitive skin of her son’s knob. For the first time, she could see it in all its glory and menace. It stood proud, eleven inches in length with a pronounced curve upwards. Not over thick for its extreme length, the shaft had 2 long veins running along the top and one along its bottom. At the end of this rock-hard fucking piston was its head twice as wide as the shaft with a semi-open eye with drops of precum forming in it. How would she fit that cock head in her mouth and slit she thought, but she knew in the future it would be going in both. Her hands gripped his exposed member and moved with increasing speed. Soon Fahad’s eyes were closed and he was completely oblivious to the rest of the world so it was a complete shock when he felt a warmth enveloping his swollen balls. His eyes flew open and widened in shock as he saw his mother crouching on the floor licking his balls.

For her part, Asma was amazed at the size of the tight nut sack she held in her hand to lick. Each ball was larger than a mandarin and full of cum. She buried her head in and took one of his balls into her mouth, sucking real gently and running her tongue all around it. She moved to the other one and gave it the same treatment, then began licking both before slowly moving up along his shaft, before returning to his balls. She bent upwards and her tongue extended and slid along the long shaft to flick the tip of his cock. Her son responded, flinching as the electric current of lust shot through his skinny body.

She repeated the manoeuvre and this time her tongue danced over the knob and he could feel an explosion building. Asma sensed it too and grabbed his prick and jammed it into her mouth. She tasted the tip of his cock which was covered with pre-cum because her son had been oozing almost the whole time she was rubbing his cock and his jizz as he had already cum watching porn. He preferred Asian, as the was hardly any subcontinent stuff on the net, and what there was available was of poor quality. He has just been watching Tia Ling take some big black cock in a gang bang.

It didn’t seem to bother Asma it excited her, and she took the head into her mouth. She was out of practice and it was a struggle to ease its girth past her lips. She held it there, with just the head between her fully expanded lips, as she ran her tongue around and around the huge head, ending up trying to stick the tip of her tongue right into the hole in her son’s cock. Because of its size and the long time since she had given head, she did not attempt to deep throat him. That would come because this was not going to be a one-off. She was using the old JAV video trick of sliding her hand up and down the shaft, with only slight oral penetration and to Fahad it looked like he was fucking her mouth. Helped by the fact he had cum just moments before she entered his bedroom the sitting Fahad managed to follow his kneeling mother’s pleas not to cum. She stopped, guided him to his feet, stripped him of his pyjamas and led him to his bed.

He stood there with his great, pulsating cock standing out from his groin, the unseeing eye in the glans oozing thin, clear droplets of arousal. Asma stared hungrily at it, moistening her wetly parted lips with her tongue as if re-tasting the seeping fluid in her mouth. “Come on,” she urged. “Lie down beside your mother. Your mom is going to take that big lovely cock of yours and drain every last drop of hot cum out of it into her pussy, But long and slow,” Asma whispered to him.

She lay back and took hold of his still hard, precum oozing, saliva covered 11 inches. She started. Her fingernails scratched lightly over his eagerly beating cock, over his testicles, reached under his naked body to probe briefly at the tightly puckered ring of his anus, and then retraced their path back to his rigidly quivering penis. Asma looked down and could see her hand holding the full, blood-inflated head of her son’s cock working it sensuously along her long lipped, hair-lined pussy.

“Oh, God,” she gasped, as the huge, pulsing tip penetrated the tight mouth of her moistened, welcoming cunt, visibly stretching the welcoming, quivering opening as it wormed its way into her with the help of her guiding hand.

“Oh… OOOHHH GOD, MY DARLING SON… IT’S SO BIG… SO BIG, FAHAD” Asma’s screaming, almost breathless, voice echoed around the bedroom. “Oh… OOOHHH PLEASE, NOT TOO FAST, SON… MAKE IT LAST ON OUR FIRST TIME…”

Asma’s hands moved to caress her own swelling breasts, plucking at their hardened chocolate-coloured nipples as rippling sensations began to run wild in her loins and belly. God, there was something about her son that excited her sexually. She was completely turned on and horny. His cock alone was enough: the length and thick bloated head of it… but there was more about him that seemed to kindle deeper sensations of desire than she’d ever known. Perhaps it was his face, or was it the lankiness of him, as her father had been… Yes! That was it.

Allah be praised. He even resembled the faded sepia pictures she vaguely remembered of her father in his earlier years. That was the crux of it all. Yes, yes… she was going to possess her son, body and soul, and cock. She returned her gaze to the 18-year old’s wet, glistening shaft of hot, hard flesh that was being forced deeper into her, inciting unrestrained lust in her. Spasms charged through his gut as he stared eagerly at his mother’s wide-spread, muscular thighs and the delicious cleft of her firm arse and the swaying of her tits as she worked passionately to accept him. What a fantastic looking woman was his mother, and he was fucking her, and she wanted it.

“Ooooohhhh… oooohhhh Alllaaaahhhh!” Asma moaned into the desire-aroused face of her son as he continued to fill her with slow, long thrusts… rhythmic plunges that fucked into her tight, yielding slit to reach deeper and further depths, until at last, he felt the smooth spongy tip brush at her cervix and his full, sperm-filled balls slap into the soft sensitive crevice separating the widespread cheeks of her spread buttocks.

The pleasure she was receiving from her son left her breathless, somewhere between purgatory and heaven. Oh yes… yes… it was so right! Oh, God, it was so beautiful… so beautiful! And she groaned from deep in her throat with the bliss that was overwhelming and intoxicating her.

At first, from her wailing gasps, Fahad feared that he had hurt her, but then he felt his 46-year-old mother begin to writhe and squirm beneath him aggressively and he knew he was wrong. She was getting off on his cock. Her clasping cunt, as if of its own uncontrollable volition, initiated a continuous muscular squeezing along the full length of his cock, her hard nipples gouged into his chest. Her warm belly pressed against him while her thighs clamped and released at his waist as she worked her sex-starved pussy up and down the full hardness of her son’s driving penis, helping to establish the tempo of their fucking.

“Oh Fahad… darling, darling… don’t ever stop,” she murmured as his stiff rod of desire-hardened flesh thrust into her love juice secreting fuck channel and her head began to flail excitedly from side to side. Fahad saw tiny teeth marks appear on her lower lip where she’d nibbled at it; then, she was sucking and biting at his tongue and forcing her tongue into his mouth and almost wantonly, gasping warm, sweet breath into his throat.

He saw the thin film of sweat beading on her forehead beneath the entangled halo of black oiled hair, the way her neck was straining and heard low moans of hunger beginning to gurgle from deep in her throat against his lips. The sight of her naked body writhing and bucking in heat spurred him on.

She was his now… all his to fuck when and however he chose. Asma cried out beneath him, twisting suddenly to enjoy the ecstasy as he slipped his hands beneath the firm cheeks of her smooth arse and pulled her open slit up more tightly against his groin and pounded her, fucking into her pussy with a new lease of life. The smacking of his heavy, semen-bloated balls against her puckered anus and the smooth, softly yielding crevice between her upturned buttocks resounded throughout his bedroom.

“Auuuggghhhh… ooogghhhh… ooohhhh… oohhh… don’t… don’t stop, son… please keep fucking me,” she pleaded. But Fahad, lost in the pleasure she was giving, hardly heard her guttural, animalistic pleas as he plunged harder and deeper in his mounting passion, screwing his driving pelvis tighter into her soft, sensitive cunt, grinding into the flesh as he groaned his increasing arousal. Then, to his surprise, with a low passionate groan coming from deep in her chest, she began to arch her hips up to him, meeting his fevered lunges with violent upthrusts of her own. Her eyes glazed with unrestrained passion as she raised them both inches off the bed in a wild, untamed sexual union. Her unrestrained thrashing beneath his pounding body, her opening and closing of her legs high up around his waist, her sliding her cunt up and down his cock were no longer under her control.

Fahad fucked his mother, cupping her closer to and tighter against his body and feeling her pull back her thighs until she was almost bent double. Her knees touching her tits causing the wet, gripping muscles of her fuck tube to open wider in response to his pistoning cock to allow it deeper access. Asma lost in the sexual bliss he was bringing her body, tossed her head, her smooth, firm thighs and buttocks on either side of his impaling cock quivering and twitching in response. her tongue slithered in and out of his mouth in a simulation of oral fucking.

There had never been anything, any time, like this before for her. Never, never, never. It was as though this was what she’d been waiting for all her life.

“Ooohhh… harder, Fahad, harder!” she urged, her voice layered with an overwhelming, sexual appetite that had to be satisfied. “Oh please, my son, harderrrrr!”