Soap Opera 2: Asian Women and My Business
Copyright© 2025 by Asiansexfight uncensored
Chapter 7: Six Asian Women
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 7: Six Asian Women - Soap Opera 2: Asian Women and My Business goes up against my other Soapy Series, A Soap Opera: My Year of Living Dangerously(with Asian women). Just like when Days of our Lives, The Bold and the Beautiful and Dallas fought for TV ratings, and some viewers watched one while others channel hopped, you too can be a loyal reader of one or binge on both. This new series follows my Australian business and Asian women and is full of over the top characters, implausible plots, rivalries & feuds.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Mult Blackmail Coercion Consensual BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Incest Mother Daughter Light Bond Group Sex Interracial White Male Oriental Female Anal Sex Double Penetration Exhibitionism Fisting Oral Sex Sex Toys Squirting Voyeurism Big Breasts Size Small Breasts Cat-Fighting
Mei Ling lay defeated and broken on the carpet. Her strong body was prone and curled in a foetal position, with piss and cum on her broad back and pooling under her thick thighs. Aftershock tremors still rippled through her body as she gulped air through parted lips. The Victor, Lai Fong, stood over her triumphantly, her slim legs planted wide as she unstrapped the silicone sex toy, dropping it with a wet thud beside Mei Ling’s short-cropped hair.
“Beg for mercy, you cunt,” Lai Fong demanded, her face still red from her efforts in the fight and quick orgasms I’d given her in her victory fuck.
Mei Ling muttered, her voice muffled against the floor, “Please, I submit, you win.” Satisfied, Lai Fong smiled and collected the stake money from Mei Ling’s discarded jeans pocket, counting the bills before adding them to her own pile on the coffee table.
She turned to me, her shaved slit still glistening and wet from the fight and fuck, stood and then sank onto the couch beside me. “That felt good. Proving who was the best woman in front of you,” she said breathlessly, her eyes locking onto mine while her fingers traced idly along my thigh. God, she still wants more, I thought, and asked what came next.
“More fights, bigger stakes,” she replied firmly, her black hair drying in messy strands against her shoulders. “You’ve got a front-row seat now, and I owe you for fronting the cash.” We stayed there briefly as her body cooled down from the fight and arousal that winning gave her, before she suggested we head back to her restaurant, the Canton Court for a late-night bite. God, anything but the food she served up there, but I went anyway as I knew there would be sex, a lot of sex, that night.
That was 2 weeks ago. Since then, I had manipulated another fight between the two Chinese women, with both thinking I wanted them to win. Now the grudge rematch was happening before my eyes.
They were locked in 69 in front of me in their first to three in a row orgasm sexfight. The winner of their last fight, Lai Fong, was on top, her slim legs straddling Mei Ling’s square-jawed face, while Mei Ling lay underneath with her muscular frame sprawled, pressing down on the carpet.
Lai Fong’s small tits hung down with her nipples stiff from arousal, and her shaved slit was against Mei Ling’s parted lips. Mei Ling’s firm 34C breasts and thick, protruding nipples were flattened as Lai Fong’s arms were wrapped around the Hong Kong restaurant owner’s body pulling her down. Sweat beaded on Lai Fong’s face before trickling down her high cheekbones to drip onto Mei Ling’s thighs.
Despite the effort that was causing this perspiration, Lai Fong buried her mouth into Mei Ling’s trimmed bush, wetly tonguing the puffed cunt lips. Mei Ling responded, groaned, and twitched, and Lai Fong took advantage of this. She plunged two fingers inside the Cantonese cunt and twisted them to stretch the slit entrance.
It was early days in the sexfight, and Mei Ling reciprocated by sucking Lai Fong’s bloated clit between her lips, flicking her tongue across it rapidly as she rammed her middle finger into Mei Ling’s quim, working it in and out to bring moans from Lai Fong. Locked together, their bodies rocked rhythmically, mouths and fingers trying to secure a cum.
I watched the whole display closely, taking in the fluids smearing across chins and thighs. My hand was wrapped around my cock, stroking the responding monster slowly as I knew this would be a long one between the two well-matched Chinese women, given their hatred for each other and the event itself. It was no best of three or even five cums: the winner had to drag three consecutive orgasms without cumming. A sexfighter could make the other woman cum twice in a row, but then cum herself, and it was back to square one with both needing three in a row.
Lai Fong came first, pulling her head back from Mei Ling’s trimmed bush and howling in arousal and anger, her narrow eyes rolling as her legs trembled and loosened around Mei Ling’s face. Mei Ling seized the moment and rolled Lai Fong underneath her, reversing their positions to claim the advantageous upper spot. She straddled Lai Fong’s body using her heavier body weight to pin the slimmer woman down.
It didn’t matter which woman won; I was the winner. Both women harboured an intense dislike for each other and wanted this rematch. I was the middleman and had separately convinced both that I had to sleep with the other woman to make that one think I wanted her to win and get her to challenge. So, it didn’t matter who won, that woman thought I wanted them to win, and even better if the loser tried the old “he slept with me” routine, the winner was unworried, as that was part of the plan to make the fight happen.
Mei Ling ground her trimmed bush down onto Lai Fong’s face, her thick thighs clamping around the slim head tightly to limit the access Lai Fong had to her cunt. She lowered her neck to attack Lai Fong’s shaved slit. Her tongue circled the bloated clit relentlessly to build an arousal baseline, then she flicked across it rapidly so that Lai Fong’s slim legs twitched. She upped the ante by getting two fingers into Lai Fon’s cave of treasures.
Sweat dripped from Mei Ling’s bigger tits onto Lai Fong’s toned torso below, as she worked over the ex-Hong Kong woman. Lai Fong tried to fight back from underneath, desperately probing with her extended tongue for Mei Ling’s quim, but Mei Ling used her upper position, raising her hips just enough to pull her own clit out of reach. Whenever Lai Fong’s oral work started to arouse her, she grunted and strained, raising her hips high enough to break contact despite Lai Fong having her arms around her torso.
Mei Ling decided the preliminary work was complete and plunged three fingers into Lai Fong’s slit. She thrust them in and out while maintaining her clit sucking and nibbling to send sex jolts through Lai Fong’s body. Sex juice was smeared across Mei Ling’s face as she twisted her fingers inside her opponent, drawing muffled moans from below. Dominated, Lai Fong came for a second time, her body arching despite Mei Ling’s weight, wailing as her shaved slit spasmed and squirted into Mei Ling’s mouth.
Mei Ling paused briefly, her broad back already glistening with sweat, knowing she only needed one more to seal the three in a row and claim victory. But it was early stages, and Lai Fong changed tactics to ram three fingers into Mei Ling’s quim and finger fuck her. Mei Ling stiffened, and this released her face sit pressure, enabling Lai Fong’s tongue to latch onto her clit once Mei Ling’s guard dropped.
After seven minutes, Mei Ling’s belly clenched uncontrollably as her first orgasm surged through her, resetting the count so both women needed three in a row again. They settled into their work again.
It was going to be a long evening and night, and although I kept tabs on the action, my mind wandered. I thought of Wang, who was now an insatiable slut eager to sexfight her mother, Mei Ling, and make Mei Ling her slave. How she had demanded to face-sit me during our “training” sessions, then, as she did so, boasted about dominating Mei Ling, or her practice sessions with her small clique from school that would give her the skills to do that.
I figured it was almost time to tell Mei Ling of my suspicions about Wang’s intentions, dropping hints to ignite the mother-daughter clash that I wanted. For Mei Ling the only things important to her were being fucked by me exclusively, public exhibitionism, and sexfighting. Now I had to get her to see her daughter, Wang, as a threat.
The two had settled into a mid-phase grind, trading cums, intent on wearing the other out rather than pushing for a quick finish. Mei Ling pinned Lai Fong down and lapped at her shaved slit long enough without interruption to force an orgasm from her. But then it was Lai Fong’s time to take control when Mei Ling slowed, and this time it was the Cantonese factory worker who swore as she came.
I half concentrated on the action as I watched, absently mindedly stroking my tool, not knowing who would win and waiting for the final stage when both tired, drained women gave it everything. My mind wandered to Wang’s small group of friends and how my plan to use them to train for the mother-daughter clash had hit snags at the beginning.
The 18-year-old Japanese exchange student, Aiko, was a bust. I had high hopes, given what Wang had said about her boasting about her sex experience. But she was all talk, no substance, despite her talk about JAV sessions back home. She hadn’t even turned up for the first practice and was no longer part of their outsider clique.
The three Chinese had been friends since they and Wang met while attending the special English school for a year before being allowed to study at a normal school, hence they were a year older than the other students and 18. They were willing, but simply no good.
Pang, the tallest at 5’7”, had a lanky build, but her 32B breasts sagged, and her skinny legs quivered as she folded quickly in tribbing drills, whimpering and tapping out after minimal clit friction. Zheng, shorter and stockier at 5’4” with broad shoulders, a thick waist, and heavy peasant 34C tits, fumbled through fingering attempts clumsily. Her trimmed bush hid a tight slit that clenched up defensively instead of engaging aggressively. Finally, Shen, the best looking, proved to have no stamina, gushing prematurely from basic tongue work without even mounting a counter challenge.
But not the last two, who showed more promise. Houa was a short, round-faced Hmong at just 4’11” with a sturdy build from her hill tribe roots in the Vietnamese-Laos border area. She had her dark hair tied back simply, wide-set eyes always watching quietly, a solid body, plump thighs and hanging 32B breasts.
I was surprised that she was at school at all, as most Hmong girls her age were already married off with kids, not studying. She had no attacking moves and just responded passively, taking whatever Wang threw at her without pushing back aggressively. Of course, she could not win, but fuck, she could endure for hours, her pussy clenching rhythmically around Wang’s fingers or tongue as she enjoyed her arousal and cums. It forced Wang to build stamina and get creative with switches and different combos like alternating clit sucks and deep probes to finally wear her down, until I called end with Houa still wanting more.
As Mei Ling and Lai Fong traded another round of shuddering cums in front of me, I thought of the last, the North Vietnamese, Lan. She was a thin nerd whose oversized uniform draped loosely on her 5’3” frame, and had glasses perched on her narrow face and straight black hair pulled into a tight ponytail. Her separated mother was from the North and didn’t want her daughter mixing with, in her mind, the sexually promiscuous South Vietnamese, Australianised Vietnamese who made up most of the school. She kept a tight rein on her daughter, isolating her in her studies and with strict routines.
She too was 18, having spent a year at the special English school before joining, which left her a step behind socially and in Wang’s clique, her flat 32A breasts were barely noticeable under baggy shirts and her legs were covered by trousers. In sessions, she started off hesitantly and shyly, her shaved slit tight and unresponsive at first. But once Wang pushed, Lan surprised, countering with precise finger twists or clit nips that changed the momentum.
It wasn’t raw power, but she forced Wang to adapt strategies on the fly, turning short sessions into drawn-out lesson practices. Of course, Wang ended up making her cum in her sessions, but somehow, and I couldn’t explain or prove it, I was developing a suspicion that the quiet, shy Vietnamese was allowing this.
The fight before me had reignited, with each managing to force two cums in a row from the other before getting hit with one themselves. Four times, Lai Fong had nearly orgasmed the dreaded three times consecutively, while Mei Ling had this happen three times, with one close call where she had jammed her fingers deep into Lai Fong’s shaved slit, twisting them to make Lai Fong’s cum ten seconds before her own body betrayed her.
Her strong thighs had shaken uncontrollably as she came hard from Lai Fong’s attack on her clit, groaning as her cum juices squirted down her muscled legs. Eleven seconds earlier, and it would have been her third in a row and defeat. Because her cum was within fifteen seconds of stopping Lai Fong’s streak, the rules reset them both back to zero, leaving Lai Fong cursing.
This reignited my interest, but the sexfight soon settled back to attrition, and my thoughts went back to Wang’s training. Well, specifically to Houa, the Hmong. I had been wondering if her ability to receive sex was female-female only. OK, I had fantasised it was male-female. I had been shopping at Footscray when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned, expecting to see a drug dealer, but it was Houa. She beamed and said, “Hello, Mr Greg, good to see you.”
I looked down at the 4’11” Hmong, and she looked like she wanted to talk, which was a surprise as she was reserved and shy, except when being fucked by Wang. It was a hot day, so I took her inside the market for that trendy, overpriced shit from Taiwan, Bubble Tea, that Asian teenagers crave.
I learnt that she was at school because her grandfather had been a liaison person with the USA’s CIA when they used the Hmong in Laos, and he became convinced his family should be educated, not married at a young age. We sat at a sticky table inside the market, her sturdy body shifting on the plastic chair and plump thighs spreading slightly under her embroidered Hmong dress. Luckily, she wasn’t wearing their elaborate headgear as every eye would be on this Westerner with a Hmong.
Houa surprised me, saying, “Wang is lucky to have a man like you to fuck her and make her a sexfighter.” Her words caught me off guard as and I wondered who else Wang had been boasting to. I refocused just as she was saying how great the Prom dress that I had chosen for Wang was, as I was already picturing her tight slit clenching around my cock while Wang watched and learned.
Pretending to sip my bubble tea to mask my growing interest, I casually asked if she had a boyfriend. Houa shook her head slowly and explained she was Hmong, so other families often had their boys try her out to see if she’d make a good breeder, but her father had said no so far, holding out for something better thanks to her grandfather’s old CIA ties pushing education over early marriage.
Then she compared what Wang had boasted about: long, intense fucks, slut dressing and making her a sexfighter, with the reality of a short fuck with a Hmong boy, usually over in a minute r two with no foreplay, one-sided sex that left her unsatisfied. Her wide-set eyes caught mine as though she was hinting at wanting more, but that was my wistful thinking.
Her words tumbled around my brain, stirring my cock, so I took the plunge and asked her out for dinner, fearing her reaction. Houa paused and said, “Wang.” That single word brought me back to the real world. Fuck, all my immediate plans were destroyed by their friendship. But she continued quickly, “I won’t tell her, but I’ve only got clothes like this,” gesturing to her simple embroidered Hmong dress that clung loosely to her short body.
I suggested we fix that right then by heading to Skin Siren in Highpoint for something to wear for the dinner date. At Skin Siren, we browsed the micro-minis and tops, zeroing in on pieces that were suitable for her 4’11” solidity. She tried on a black lace mini outfit first, its hem reaching high-thigh to show leg flesh, with a low-cut top that let her tits hang freely and nipples poke through the lace work as she twisted before the mirror. Her round face was happy when I nodded approvingly.
Next was a red satin outfit, slit high on the sides to flash her hips and outer thighs with every step, with the material stretching tight over her round arse. The dress was so tight you could distinguish where her areolae met tit flesh, but stretchy enough not to squash her nipples flat. Again, as I had with Wang and Mei Ling. I bought both. I was there that often I felt they should give me a discount card.
We used my plastic fantastic at Skin Siren and left with both outfits in hand, but I had the black lace mini shortened further at Highpoint’s alteration counter, trimming the hem to cunt length so it didn’t cover thighs and would flash when she walked.
That night, she’d told her mother she was at a sleepover at Wang’s, knowing full well her mother wouldn’t contact the Chinese family to check. She met me in the dimly lit car park in Footscray and used my BMW’s back seat to change and put on the 5-inch platform heels I had also purchased. The black mini clung tightly, but its hem still rode up to expose her tight slit and arse cheeks as she sidled to the passenger seat. I took in her hanging 32B tits filling the low-cut top and allowing her nipples to protrude through the lace mesh.
We stepped out of the BMW, and her 5-inch platforms clicked as she stumbled along, wearing heels for the first time. My arm around her waist pulled the cunt-length hem even higher with each step, baring the bottom half of her tight slit and arse cheeks to anyone glancing our way. Inside the quiet Vietnamese restaurant, heads turned as she paraded beside me toward our table, her tits bouncing with no bra, and the lace gaps catching and arousing her dark and swollen nipples. It was a memorable exit, matched by the flesh she paraded at the table and walking back to the car. I can’t remember the meal.
With Huyen away in Vietnam for 90 days of mourning after her mother’s death, my apartment was free and waiting, so after the meal, I drove straight there. I sensed Houa was a bit on edge but ready as I stripped her slowly, letting her watch in the full-length mirror. As I pressed behind her, I hoped she was primed for hours of my cock, because I was.
A long groan from Mei Ling, followed by an annoyed shriek from Lai Fong, broke my reverie, and I replayed what I had half been watching. Mei Ling was groaning as she had cum seconds before, which would have been her third in a row, while Lai Fong’s angry shriek came from the fact she had cum shortly before what would have been Mei Ling’s third in a row. Concentrating and thinking back, that was the fourth time since I last concentrated on the fight that Lai Fong had led two zero only to be denied the third winning cum, so that last action was an outlier.
If it was a doomsday clock for Mei Ling, it would be at 11.59. However, she was still in the event. Mei Ling paused briefly after her orgasm: her torso slumped on Lai Fong’s. She sucked in some deep breaths as she recovered, but, importantly, she still had top position. She clamped her thighs around Lai Fong’s head to limit movement and raised her trimmed bush just out of reach while she caught her wind and composure.
Lai Fong twisted underneath desperately, her narrow eyes flashing with frustration as she extended her tongue upward, probing for Mei Ling’s cunt. Her slim arms wrapped around Mei Ling but failed to pull her hips low enough for solid contact. She altered tactics, thrusting two fingers toward the cum caked slit. However, Mei Ling shifted her weight forward cleverly, denying entry.
Finally, Mei Ling went on the attack but it was countered by Lai Fong bucking her hips to unbalance the factory worker. However, Mei Ling tensed and pressed her legs down, pinning Lai Fong’s shoulders to the carpet, ending the attack, and Lai Fong’s efforts petered out with hoarse curses.
With her regained strength, Mei Ling attacked Lai Fong’s cunt, sucking her clit into her mouth and securing it with her teeth, where she used the tip of her tongue on it. Slowly, the doomsday clock moved away from midnight, and my mind returned to Houa.
I laid the nude Hmong on her back across the bed and watched her body sink into the mattress with her plump thighs spreading wide instinctively. Kneeling between her legs, I pressed my mouth to her slit. Just as she did when she had sex with Wang, she responded quickly and noisily, from the first lap of my tongue along her puffed lips. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she started to moan semi-continuously, and her voice became louder with each flick against her swelling clit.
She held her quim apart to help me, gripping her cunt lips and pulling them open wider, exposing the pink inner walls fully so I could plunge my tongue deeper into her sex cavern. Her arousal built as she pushed her hips up greedily, whimpering about how no Hmong boy would do this, how the pleasure was only for them.
I worked her relentlessly, sucking the responsive nub between my lips and nibbling the edges to give her more pleasure. Her thighs thrashed around my head while her sex juice leaked down her arse crack as she responded. I pulled my lips from her leaking slit, reached out for the nightstand, found and slipped on Dr Jonson Mark 2, intent on a long fuck thanks to the cock ring. Her hands raked my back as she came noisily.
I positioned above her missionary style, guided my veined shaft to her waiting quim and slid it in inch by inch. Immediately, I felt her wetness coat my tool, and her tight walls’ inner muscles clench and ripple along my shaft. She gasped, and her eyes locked on mine hungrily. Her wet heat soaked my balls with every thrust as she arched up to meet me greedily. I was planning to take it more slowly, but she was responding so much that I kept her in missionary but placed her knees beside her head and hammered her harder and deeper.
Houa wailed loudly with the different angle of each hammer blow. Her flexible body folded under me as her thighs pressed against her bouncing tits. She thrust back to meet the hammering, inner muscles trying to grip me tighter, fluids soaking the sheets below as she whimpered raggedly, “Deeper, yes, harder like this. No Hmong man can last as long as you.” Her second, third and fourth cum shot through her.
I pulled out briefly from the missionary hammering and flipped her onto all fours, arranged her in doggie style with thighs spread wide and round arse raised high. She glanced back hungrily as I gripped her hips and thrust my shaft back into her wet quim from behind. I went to town, pounding relentlessly, causing hard slaps of my groin against her arse cheeks. I enjoyed feeling her inner muscles clench rhythmically around my cunt stabber while fluids dripped down her legs. Her hanging tits swayed forward with each blow as she pushed back. Again, she came multiple times but wanted more.
I reached forward and guided her hand to her swollen clit and pressed her fingers against the nub, helping her to start frigging herself as I worked her over from behind. She circled and rubbed in frantic motions that made her wails louder as her body arched under me. She came again, and this was the start of rapid multi cums, and I was glad my walls were soundproof.
Houa stayed insatiable even after her multi-cums. Her sturdy body still quivered but she wanted more, so I pulled out and flipped her to straddle me cowgirl style, guiding her tight slit down onto my throbbing shaft steadily as she sank inch by inch, inner muscles clenching rhythmically on my tool. She groaned at the full depth and started grinding hard, rolling her hips in big circles that rubbed her swollen clit against my base. Her tits bounced with each downward slam, and she whimpered, “More, just like this.”