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 c***d 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 f***ed 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 p*****n.
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 u*********s. '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 k**."
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 bl**d 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 asl**p 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 asl**p soon after. In the space of two days, two Shibatas had sent two Rocheforts to sl**p – 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 b*****r, 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 k**ding about that? Wow, that sucks, man. As your b*****r 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 f****y'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 b*****r, 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 b*o."
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 asl**p, 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, b*o, 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 u*********s 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, b*o, 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 g****s 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 f****y 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 b*o right there," said Mike to random spectators, "My dad is dating his mom, he's my b*o, 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 k** 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 bl**d 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 i****tual 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 f***efully 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 bl**d 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 sl**p 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.