Ashley and Me, Part 2

Part 2:

"Good, good.  You look fantastic!  Are you ready for a night on the
town?"

"Thank you!  You bet!  I've been looking forward to this all day.  Just
let me grab a coat."  With a little bounce, she headed towards the
closet, taking a drag on her cigarette.  "What do you think?", she
asked, opening the closet and peering inside, smoke pouring from her
mouth and nose.  "Cotton or leather?"

"I've gotta say you look stunning in leather."

*****

She slowly drew a Marlboro 100 from the gold and white colored pack, an
action she performed about twenty times every day.  I picked up the
book of matches from the ashtray on the table, and she put the
cigarette in between her full lips, leaning towards me.  I struck a
match, and her hand reached out to guide mine as I lit her cigarette.
The flame flickered on her face under the darkened lights, as the end
of her cigarette added a red brilliance as she drew burning smoke into
her mouth.  Her cheeks were hollowed slightly, but deceptively as she
was dragging heavily, and her lips completely enclosed the end of the
filter between them.  She finished her drag and plucked her cigarette
from her lips between two fingers, her other hand keeping hold of
mine.  She inhaled deeply, then blew out the match in my hand with a
long exhale that extended just to the side of my face.

"Thank you", she said, leaning back again.  Her words expelled smoke in
light clouds from her mouth and nose, and she exhaled several light
streams of smoke from her nose with her normal breathing.  It was
becoming clear to me that when Ashley was smoking a cigarette, she did
it in such a way that she was always exhaling smoke, even between
drags.  She did it by inhaling deeply and often, savoring the smoke
inside of her.  The phrase "smokes like a chimney" came to mind, but I
rejected it, because it was too vulgar to describe her smoking style.
She made it look elegant, as if it was natural for a beautiful woman to
be constantly expelling smoke from her mouth and nostrils.  If there
are those who think that true ladies don't smoke, they hadn't yet seen
Ashley with a burning cigarette between her slender fingers, surrounded
by a cloud of ethereal smoke.

When she ordered from the menu, smoke accompanied her soft voice in
thick clouds.  She took a long drag as I ordered for myself, and I
watched her exhale one long stream of smoke from between her lips, an
exhale that seemed to last forever.  I got the feeling that she was
showing off for me, as a smile formed on her lips and mine
simultaneously.

She smoked three cigarettes before dinner, and smoked three more after
dinner as we sat and talked.  Every cigarette smoked was truly a feast
for the eyes.

*****

We walked along the beach on the Edmonds waterfront, hand in hand.  Her
hand felt smooth and soft, and was warmly pressed up against mine.  She
had initiated it, and I knew that I was going to kiss her before the
night was out.  That kiss came shortly, as we sat on a large boulder
facing the water.  I was sitting behind her, holding her in my arms as
she smoked and we gazed at the stars and talked.

She suddenly turned her head to face me.  "You know", she said softly,
puffing light clouds of smoke, "I'd like to kiss you."  She scooted up
towards me, bringing her face close.  Her breath was warm and smoky,
and her cigarette burned brightly as she held it next to her face.

"You know", I said, "I'd like to kiss you too."

Her mouth tasted sweet, the strong scent of tobacco highlighting the
sensation.  Again, it wasn't disgusting as I thought it would be.  It
was instead the finest tasting kiss I'd ever had.  Her tongue tasted
wonderfully like I imagined a warm ashtray might taste, and the sweet
scent of her tobacco laced breath filled my nostrils with every
breath.

After a minute of kissing, she pulled slightly back, her lips still
from mine.

She spoke, and the fragrance of sweet tobacco smoke filled the air.

"You don't mind kissing a smoker while she's smoking, do you?" she
asked sweetly.

"Not at all", I replied.

She grinned slightly.  "I didn't think so", she said, and then her
warm, smoky mouth engulfed me once more.

*****

Six years passed.  Ashley and I quickly fell in love, and one year
after our first date, we moved into an apartment together.  Like
soulmates, we shared a great deal in common; like friends, our
differences complemented each other like chocolate and milk.
I think she was surprised that the one difference which might appear
to be most likely to cause a problem, did not.  That difference, of
course, was the fact that she was a smoker and I was not.  She knew
(though I never actually told her) that I found her smoking sexy, but
apparently wasn't sure I wanted to live where I would be smelling
cigarette smoke all day.  Probably to her delight, she found that it
was a non-issue.  In general, our lifestyles fit well together, and
though we had to make some adjustments here and there, it was for the
most part an easy assimilation.

After we moved in, I finally got to observe her everyday smoking habit
in detail.  Every morning, lighting a cigarette was one of the first
things she did.  Usually she'd get out of bed, lighting a cigarette on
the way to the bathroom.  It became a common sight for me to watch a
large cloud of smoke being parted by her head as she exhaled it in
front of her while walking to the bathroom.  She loved to smoke in the
bathroom while putting on her makeup, usually keeping her cigarette
between her lips except to ash it.  Her inhales were deep, her exhales
slow and methodical.  It was a spectacle I was disappointed to miss if
I slept through it.  She often woke me up after her shower by crawling
back into bed all naked and clean.  She'd make love to me with smoky
breath and soapy skin, sometimes while still smoking a cigarette.
During the day, she smoked steadily, usually one cigarette every half
an hour.  She smoked no matter what she was doing, indicating her
comfort with a cigarette in her hand.  It wasn't uncommon to see her
puffing steadily on a cigarette while folding the laundry or writing in
her journal.  She loved to smoke while driving her car, often content
to simply leave her cigarette in her lips, smoke streaming from her
mouth and nose.  If we were out, and I asked her to dance while she was
smoking a cigarette, she would continue smoking while we danced.  The
only thing that stopped her from smoking was a "No Smoking" sign.

At night, she smoked more often; three to four cigarettes an hour for
the last couple of hours before bed.  She always lit a cigarette just
before going to bed, smoking it as we lay there in the darkness, often
cuddled up together.  Sometimes this was when we made love.  She
handled a cigarette marvelously during sex; I never had to fear being
burned.  We kept ashtrays in every room of the apartment, because she
smoked in every room.  The ashtray by her bedside was often full, and
she always had a pack of cigarettes at her side.  Though at first she
only smoked a pack a day, that amount crept up to two packs a day over
a period of just a couple of months.  Each cigarette lasted her almost
fifteen minutes, so she almost always had a cigarette in her hand.  The
heavy smell of burning smoke constantly surrounded me, and I grew so
used to it that I hardly noticed it anymore.  Nothing was warmer and
cozier than holding her from behind in my arms as we sat on the couch,
a cigarette burning from her lips and billowing clouds of smoke filling
the air in front of me.

We were on vacation in Hawaii when I proposed to her.  She was smoking
her last cigarette in bed as usual, curled up in my arms.  I had
smuggled her ring to bed with me, and now I placed it in her empty hand
under the covers, whispering in her ear.  Her affirmative answer was
ecstatic, and she would smoke three more cigarettes that night as we
made love for the next two hours.

*****

It was our wedding night, and we had just arrived at the Sheraton in
downtown Seattle.

Ashley looked stunning, her face all aglow.  Her silky blond hair
draped around the shoulders of her wedding dress, and her blue eyes
were gleaming in the moonlight.  Her cheeks were rosy from the
champagne, and she was laughing and giggling as we rode up the elevator
to our suite.  She was so happy, and it made my heart burst with love
for my beautiful new wife.

We settled into our suite, which was very impressive.  A marble facade
greeted us as we walked to the picture window, which provided us with a
stunning view of  the downtown shopping district.  The stars greeted us
from above.  Ashley wrapped her arms around my waist from behind and
whispered into my ear, "A beautiful night for a beautiful night".  Her
soft breath felt good on my face, and I turned to kiss her lightly on
the chin.  Then, giggling, she let go of me and jumped onto the
king-size bed, smiling from cheek to cheek as she bounced on the
mattress.

She reached for her purse on the other side of the bed, and pulled out
her brown leather cigarette case and engraved gold lighter.  I turned
to watch her in the dim light as she put a Marlboro 100 between her
lips and lit it.  Holding the flame to the tip of her cigarette, she
drew the smoke into her mouth and patted the mattress next to her with
her other hand, inviting me to come and sit next to her.  With the
cigarette still firmly between her full lips, she exhaled a large cloud
of smoke as she pulled the lighter away, putting it back into her
cigarette case.  The exhaled smoke floated slowly through the soft
light of the room, and as I approached her I watched the smoke drift
sensuously toward the ceiling.  She drew on the cigarette between her
lips as she reached for the ashtray, putting it on the nightstand next
to the bed.  As I sat next to her, she turned to face me and gently
pulled the cigarette away from her mouth.  She opened her mouth for
about a second, performing a quick French inhale, and held her
cigarette between two fingers next to her head.  A thin stream of smoke
drifted slowly from the end of the filter, and a much thicker stream
drifted from the softly glowing lit end.

She was looking at me with those penetrating eyes as she turned her
head slightly to the side and began exhaling.  Providing me with a
perfect profile, she pursed her lips slightly and, with a sly grin,
slowly blew a thick cloud of smoke just past my shoulder.  A soft sound
accompanied  her exhale, like a whispering breeze.  The smoke poured
from between her lips in a thick cloud, and I could smell the fragrance
of sweet tobacco mixed with her breath as the smoke was blown softly
past my face.

As the cloud of smoke grew less dense, she said coyly, "So, sweetie,
what would you like to do tonight?"  As she spoke, small puffs of smoke
escaped from her mouth and nostrils, and as she finished speaking, she
exhaled a thin but long stream of smoke from her nose as she brought
the cigarette to her mouth for a deep drag.  I leaned closer to her
with a sly grin on my face and a throbbing member between my legs.  She
responded in kind, leaning toward me and putting her arms softly over
my shoulders, her right hand softly caressing my cheek while holding
her long cigarette in an erect posture between two fingers.  Her
fingers were long and beautiful, and they looked fabulous with the
orange filter of a burning cigarette between them.  Smoke was still
wisping heavily from the filter, floating freely around her fingers and
hand, lilting slowly past my face.  She exhaled thick smoke slowly from
her nostrils as she smiled at me and looked into my eyes.  The smoke
poured from her nose as she breathed normally, each breath involving a
long exhale.  With her lips just inches from mine, she said, "Well, I
guess I can figure it out."  Her soft breath was heavy with the aroma
of tobacco smoke, and she drew me close to kiss her.  Her mouth was hot
and smoky, and the taste of her tongue was saturated with burning
tobacco.

Our wedding had been a smashing success.  The photographer was taking
pictures of my groomsmen and I when I first saw her in her dress.  She
walked out from around a blossoming bush in the church garden, and she
was so beautiful it brought tears to my eyes.  After the pre-wedding
photo shoot was finished, we sat outside on a garden bench while
waiting for the guests to arrive.  She chain smoked three cigarettes,
and the photographer came back to take some candid pictures of us.
When she said her vows to me, I could smell the faint fragrance of
lingering tobacco, and our kiss was sweet with the mild taste of
cigarette smoke.  Smoke would be on her breath the rest of the night,
as she always seemed to have a cigarette between her fingers at the
reception.

Normally Ashley was a strict two pack a day smoker, but she was
halfway through her third pack by the time we arrived at the hotel.
The sight of her in her beautiful white wedding dress with a long,
burning cigarette between her fingers was erotic, to say the least.

Now, she put her cigarette between her lips and stood up.  She slowly
began to undress herself for me, while drawing heavily on her
cigarette, the end glowing bright red as she inhaled the smoke through
the filter and into her mouth.  She puffed out a thick cloud of smoke,
and inhaled the rest.  After a few seconds, smoke poured from her nose
as she began taking another large drag, repeating the process.  Smoke
flowed heavily from her nostrils in a nearly continuous stream, and
thick clouds of burning tobacco filled the air around her, swirling
with the motion of her body as she undressed.  In between drags, smoke
floated thickly from between her lips, as the cigarette dangled from
the side of her mouth.  As she slinked out from her dress, puffing
smoke the whole time, she revealed a tight lace teddy she was wearing
underneath.   She took her cigarette out of her mouth and ashed it as I
stood up to approach her.  I held her around the waist with my hands
and kissed her, while she exhaled thick streams of smoke from her nose
and around our lips.  The skin on her slender hips felt soft and smooth
in my hands, and her body was warm.  The sweet scent of tobacco on her
breath mixed with the bitter fragrance of the smoke that was streaming
from her nostrils, and the combination just about made me explode right
then and there.  Her lips were soft and juicy; her tongue was warm and
smoky.  She was breathing heavily, and the smoke kept pouring from her
nose in thick, rich streams.  Her smoke-filled body was writhing
sensuously in my hands.

Our kiss became a series of slower kisses, and thick smoke escaped from
her lips with every one.  She pulled slightly away from me and ashed
her cigarette, and then pulled close to me again, her face only inches
from mine.  She put her freshly ashed cigarette in between her lips
once more, and began to unbutton my shirt.  I watched her face in
intimate detail as she smoked the cigarette between her lips.  The
pattern was the same, and repeated itself as often as normal
breathing.  First, she took a long drag, filling her mouth with smoke
for over 5 seconds (count it yourself to see how long it is).  She
inhaled the smoke deeply, then exhaled the smoke from her nose as she
began another long drag.  Her nostrils were only inches away from my
eyes, and the enormous clouds of smoke streaming from them engulfed us
in a shadowy fog of burned tobacco.  She watched me watch her, her eyes
never leaving mine.  I began to help her with my buttons, and the
burning end of her cigarette was rapidly reaching the lipstick coated
filter.  Our excitement was palpable.

She took a final deep drag and quickly stubbed out her cigarette in the
ashtray.  A thick stream of smoke pouring from her nostrils, she
pressed her warm, barely clothed body against my naked one.  The crotch
of her teddy was unbuttoned, as were the shoulder straps.  I plunged
into her shoulders, biting them lightly just the way she liked.  Moving
to her breasts, I gradually shed her skin of her insubstantial
clothing.  Smoke still streamed from her mouth and nostrils in
progressively lighter clouds, in quick but heavy puffs as she breathed
hard.  I imagined the smoke she held enclosed in her body underneath
her swelling breasts, and attacked them with new vigor.  Her thighs
pressed against me as I moved back to her smoky lips.  Our bodies
melted into each other.  She was slightly wet, and very warm.  The
smells were amazing; the thick smoke in the air, the clean smell of her
perspiring skin, the smoky smell of her thick hair.  But the most
overpowering scent was on her breath; the sweet and heavy smell of
tobacco, resulting from the often repeated inhaling of burning
cigarette smoke into her body.  My nose was only a couple of inches
from her mouth, which was quickly inhaling and exhaling her tobacco
laden breath.  Her tongue tasted like cigarette smoke, and all I could
think of was the thick clouds of smoke she produced as she smoked a
cigarette.  Her breath was like honey, and the clouds of smoke in the
air were like perfume.  We kissed, licked, and writhed all over each
others bodies for a long time, greatly enjoying each other in the most
intimate ways.

We were going somewhere together, and we liked to enjoy the sights
along the way.  As we got closer, we got slower but more passionate.
Every move was magnified in terms of pleasure.  We were warm together,
getting ever closer, slowly but surely.

When we got there, it was the warmest place of all.

*****

That night, she finished her third pack and started her fourth.  We
fell asleep as the sun rose.

*****

We've been married for nearly two years now.  Ashley still smokes two
packs of Marlboro 100s every day, but the force of her habit is
waning.  We want to have children soon, and Ashley wants to quit
smoking for the health of our child, not to mention her own.  She'll do
it, too; her willpower is extraordinary.  Although on one hand I will
miss the sexual excitement that comes with her smoking, I encourage her
to quit whenever she's ready to.  I love her greatly and would like to
spend as much time with her in my lifetime as possible.  However, the
blessed event is still some distance in the future away, and Ashley has
no intention of quitting in the meantime.

She enjoys smoking cigarettes, as she has for the past twelve years.
Every day, she lights at least forty cigarettes, taking about fifteen
drags off each one.  At least six hundred times a day, she inhales an
enormous cloud of smoke into her body, only to exhale it slowly and
coyly in any variety of ways.  All day long, she is surrounded by a
beautiful cloud of cigarette smoke, and the aroma of tobacco is always
on her breath, hair, and skin.  I'm not sure if I've ever kissed her
without tasting the tobacco on her breath.  All day long, she holds
that orange filter between two fingers, smoke usually emanating from
the tip of the filter as well as the burning end of the cigarette.  She
smokes when she wakes up; she smokes when she goes to bed.  She always
has a cigarette in her hand, and I am always surprised when I see her
without one.  Every time I kiss her, which is often, I know that I am
going to taste and smell the pungent smoke on her tongue and breath.
Every time I make love to her, I know that the chances are good that I
will be able to watch her atop me, a burning cigarette dangling from
her lovely lips, smoke being puffed from her nose and mouth in huge
clouds as she breathes heavily with me inside her.  She is so used to
smoking that sometimes the cigarette just becomes a normal part of her
breathing as it dangles from her lips.  There are times when she is
still exhaling smoke in light clouds minutes after she has stubbed out
a cigarette in the ashtray.  She chain smokes when we watch movies at
home.  She'll lean back in my arms with her cigarettes and an ashtray
nearby, and over the two hours it usually takes to watch a movie,
she'll smoke ten cigarettes or more.  When she puts one out, she
immediately reaches over to her pack and pulls out another one.  These
times are some of my favorites.  When she inhales the smoke into her
body, I feel her chest and stomach expand as the smoke enters her.
Sitting with her in my arms, her face is just inches in front of mine,
and I can smell her smoky breath with every breath she takes.  I can
watch her put the brown stained filter between her lips and pull smoke
into her mouth.  I can watch the smoke stream from her lips and
nostrils in enormous clouds with every drag she takes.
 Often she just puts the cigarettes in her lips, constantly dragging,
 puffing, and exhaling, removing them only to ash them.  When she does
this, there's not a breath she takes that is not accompanied by a large
stream of smoke.  She loves to smoke, and when she quits, I know that
she will miss it.

Perhaps when her future pregnancy is over, she will feel the urge to
begin smoking once again.  Perhaps she will want to take up the habit
once more.  She may lust for the feel of smoke rushing down her throat;
she may miss the taste of the smoke on her tongue and on her breath.  I
won't actively encourage it; I will allow her to make her own
decision.  Perhaps she will make the decision to smoke after all.

Perhaps.

*****

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