Cruel Smoking Wife, Part 1

(by sparticus1212, 04 May 2008)


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Cruel Smoking Wife, Part 1
By sparticus1212

I'd been saving up for months, working for two months solid to pay for this
holiday - by the time we had checked into the hotel I was exhausted. 

Our room was worth it, though - a luxury double suite with a huge four poster
bed, a balcony overlooking the sea, and a lounge area with two huge leather
settees. My wife was quite giddy after a few too many drinks on the plane
over. 

As soon as we entered the suite she threw her suitcase down on the bed,
grabbed her make-up bag and cigarettes, and told me to get unpacking whilst
she freshened up in the shower. I immediately got to work unpacking for her.

She'd been shopping the day before with her new friend Stella - a recently
divorced lady in her fifties she'd met at the gym.  Stella had been spending
a lot of time with my wife, and they regularly went out together - pampering
sessions, getting their nails done, sun-beds, and of course buying new shoes
and outfits - were now all part of her weekly routine. These new expenses
meant I spent less and less time with her, and more at work - but I couldn't
complain, since my wife had never looked better.  Stella was perpetually
smoking brown `Mores', was very bitter towards men in general, and had been
the one who suggested my wife have her breasts enlarged (even though they
were already big to begin with). She had told her that the operation would
change her whole life - and insisted on paying for the operation.

"Be careful with those," my wife yelled from the shower. My hands shook as I
diligently unpacked her outfits. As I took out her shoes, I hoped that she
might wear her highest 9' stiletto heels for me later on.

Soon, the sound of her hair dryer came from the bathroom, then silence for a
few minutes. I quickly tended to the clothes. Soon perfume and cigarette
smoke drifted into the room as I guessed she was putting the finishing
touches to her make-up. 

I had been looking forward to this break, and had decided, while watching her
smoking in the airport lounge, that there would never be a better time than
now to confess my smoking fetish to her.

She had changed a lot since meeting Stella - her new look (the long nails,
thick lipstick and sexy outfits) was driving me wild - and now would be as
good an occasion as any. Since she rarely let me have sex with her, I didn't
think I had anything to lose by coming clean. I hoped it would help our
relationship to be honest with her.

"You ready yet?" she brusquely asked as she entered the room - a half-smoked
cigarette dangling from her thick red lips, her large, firm breasts nearly
falling out of the towelling robe. I paused a minute to gather some clothes
of my own. "Hurry up - get dressed."  I apologised and scurried into the
smoky bathroom.

Just as I was down to my briefs she walked in, wearing a shiny black rubber
dress, cut high on the leg and plunging really low at the neckline. I'd never
seen her dressed in quite such a revealing outfit - sheer seamed stockings,
and those 9' black stiletto heels finished the outfit.

My wife drank in my reaction, smiling wickedly. My face went red, felt like
it was on fire, the large mirrors that covered the bathroom walls emphasised
my own half-naked body - a sorry contrast to her exquisite form.

I felt my cock getting hard, and she immediately noticed the bulge appearing
in the tight briefs she insisted I wear (to stop me getting frustrated, she
told me).

"Aah - what's this!" She tapped playfully on the bulge with her long red
nails. "Well, we can't have you going around frustrated all night, poor
thing!"

This was the moment I decided - God knows why.

"Please..." I stammered.  "C..Could I.. Would you like me to get you a
cigarette?"

"What?" She snapped back. 

"Please..." was all I could manage, my face felt as if it was burning. My
unsteady hand picked up the packet, and I opened the top and offered it to
her.

She reached out and languidly drew a long cigarette from the packet, then
brought it up to her thick red lips. 

"You're very attentive all of a sudden! Okay then, light it for me..."

I brought the silver lighter to the tip of the cigarette and clicked. My wife
leaned in, her huge boobs nearly falling out of the rubber dress, and drew
deeply, exhaling a thick plume of smoke into my face.

"Why do you want me to smoke a cigarette?"

"I just thought you might enjoy one before we leave."

"That's very good of you - good boy," she said, patronisingly, taking another
drag.

"Now, I want to enjoy tonight. Stella's coming out with us too, and I don't
want you in a funny mood - take your little cock out."

I tugged at the briefs, gazing at her enjoying the cigarette, her long red
nails and the lipstick stains now covering the filter.

"Now, if you think I'm touching that - you can forget it. You can play with
yourself, but make sure you come quickly." She took several deep drags,
looked at me in disgust, then brought the glowing tip of the cigarette close
to the tip of my cock, and flicked ash onto me. "Okay, pervert... ready,
steady, go!"

I wanked quickly, staring at my wife, and seeing that she was becoming
increasingly disgusted with me.

"Hurry up," she demanded, her cheeks hollowing as she inhaled deeply on the
cigarette.

"Oh, fuck it... If this turns you on so much, you can finish without me, I'm
going down to the bar. You stay here until you've cleaned up your mess -
understand?"

With that she placed the three quarter smoked cigarette into the ashtray and
walked out, leaving me wanking in the smoke.

"Of course, I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." I whined after her.

I listened to the click of her stilettos on the wooden floor, then heard the
hotel room door slam shut.

I could only gaze at the cigarette, still streaming blue smoke, its squashed
brown filter soaked in her red lipstick. 

To be continued... 


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