Monthly Archives: August 2017

A nasty habit



He laid the pack of cigarettes down next to her, along with the gold engraved lighter.

“You know how to get what you want,” he told her, sitting down at her feet.

She looked at the pack, menthol, the longest cigarettes you could buy.  She opened the pack, drew one out.

As she did, he reached up and dragged a finger from her navel, down, over her panties. The touch was enough to spur her on to pick up the lighter. She paused for a moment, so did he.

“Go ahead, put it in your mouth,” he told her, looking up between her knees.

She put the cigarette in her mouth, not in the center of her lips. He wanted it a certain way, in the corner of her mouth, her lips pursed around the filter. She flicked the lighter, it hissed and sizzled as she lit the cigarette.

“It’s a terrible habit,” he told her. “Trashy. You shouldn’t start.”

But, it wasn’t a habit. It was a means to an end.

As she sucked the end of the cigarette, he slid her underwear down her legs, gently pushing her knees apart, opening her up. He looked up, she put it in her mouth again, another drag.

When the nicotine hit her lungs, she refused to cough. When it her bloodstream, the dizziness set in just as his mouth started its path up her thighs.

She pulled the acrid smoke into her lungs, tapped ashes into the ashtray her had brought along with the cigarettes. It felt foreign, unnatural in her mouth. As another wave of disorientation swirled in her head, his tongue slid up her pussy, coming to rest on her clit with a soft kiss.

He paused and looked up at her, she looked him in the eyes, brought the cigarette to her lips.

He smiled. “Inhale.” She did. Held it in her lungs for a beat, two. Blew the smoke out toward him, it wreathed around his face.

He moaned, ever so softly, and put his mouth back to her cunt. As his tongue pushed inside, she forgot about the cigarette. Her head fell back, completely immersed in the sensations his tongue was creating.

He stopped. She remembered. Put the cigarette back in her mouth, sucked the smoke into her mouth, a wisp of it escaping as she pulled it out of her mouth.

“Yes baby, that’s it,” he told her. Coaching her, teaching her how to please him. “That’s perfect.”

As the words left his mouth, he returned to her pussy, juices running down his chin. A finger slipped inside her, causing her to catch her breath.

She tasted the tobacco, the menthol. She wondered if she tasted different when she smoked, if the bitter flavor of the cigarettes flowed from her lungs to her pussy.

“Do i taste like this Newport?” she asked him as his tongue made another slow circuit of her cunt, up, circling her clit, slowly back down and into her.

“No, no you don’t. Nothing but sweet pussy.”

He was licking her slowly, too slowly to make her come. He knew this. He knew as long as he was eating her, she would continue smoking. She came to the lipstick stained filter, crushed it out in the ashtray.

“If you want me to keep sucking your pussy …” She opened the box of cigarettes, slid another out of the pack, lit it.

He sucked her pussy as she sucked the cigarette, another wave of dizziness coming over her, unaccustomed to smoking. She blew the smoke out, peeking down as he lifted his eyes to watch her smoke.

“Don’t stop,” she asked as he found a rhythm flicking his tongue over her clit.

“I won’t if you don’t.”

She kept smoking, as he kept licking her. As she felt her orgasm building, she continued smoking. When she felt herself tumbling into it, she crushed the cigarette into the ashtray, shouting without words.

He smiled, came up to kiss her. She tasted herself on his lips, knowing he was tasting the cigarette on her tongue.

“It’s a nasty habit,” he told her. “You really shouldn’t start.”