Smoking Fetish

 You watch as her mouth parts ever so slightly, your attention drawn to the momentary color of black behind those soft ruby red lips.  Then it happens.

The slow, beautiful, sensual almost ethereal dance of grey tendrils of smoke as they move, serpentine like, moving over it’s self, crossing,  wafting upward, hiding her face from view for a few moments, but those lips, you can still see the bright redness of them.

You swallow and adjust the way you are sitting.  You wonder if she knows, knows that you are watching her, getting hard following the smoke from her perfect mouth.  The way it curls, swirls, hangs ghost like in the air above her head before it dissipates.

Then you realize she is looking right at you, smirk upon those full lips of hers, she over exaggerates the movements of her bringing that burning cigarette to those lips; oh God those perfect lips; before drawing in a long, slow drag, forcing the hot box on the end to light up, orange and hot.

She lowers her head slightly, keeping her mouth open so you can see the smoke curl in circles as she breaths it into her lungs.  You think about how warm her breath, mingled with the smoke would look and feel against your now stiff dick.  She is blatantly teasing you now.  She holds it inside her for awhile, making you inch forward in your seat with anticipation, she raises her hand to her mouth, placing a kiss on the palm of her hand, then with an action that would cause a lesser man to erupt right there, she blows you a kiss, forcing a stream of soft luscious smoke across her hand and right toward you.

Jordon

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