An Absorbing Tale | |
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An Absorbing Tale by deepinhale I love to watch women smoke. There is something inherently sexual about smoking. It is arousing to see a woman take something into her body which gives her pleasure. Smoke flowing in and out of a woman's lungs is a metaphor for intercourse. The more ways that a woman allows herself to be penetrated the better. I love the attitude that says, "I am going to intentionally ruin my lungs because it feels good and I don't care about the consequences." Non-smokers lack the same feeling or sensuality and do not excite me. I had not had serious relationship in quite some time because, while I love women who smoke cigarettes, I am also attracted to petite, girl-next-door types. Those kinds of women are not normally smokers and those that do are usually pretty bad. Most of them are social smokers who think it is cool to sip on a cigarette while hanging out in a bar with their friends. I want a woman who truly enjoys smoking, who needs the smoke. Cigarette smoke is meant to be inhaled, the deeper the better. Most women who are serious about their smoking are low-rent trailer trash. You can always tell by the smell. A low-class smoker will reek of stale smoke. No matter how well a woman smokes, I can not get past it if she sinks like a rotten ashtray. On the other hand, when the odor of tobacco smoke combines with her natural scent to form an intoxicating perfume it is pure heaven. That is the woman who drives me wild. Finding one who meets those requirements is very difficult. Jen and Jeff were two of my best friends. Although they were married and I was single, I had known them both since high school and we spent a lot of time together. It is sometimes awkward being the third wheel but Jen and Jeff were not like other couples. People will often act completely different when they are in couples mode. I have had good friends that were insufferable when they were in the presence of their significant other. Jen and Jeff were exactly the same whether arm-in-arm or miles apart. They also knew how to show affection. Some couples are over the top with the PDA, others act coldly towards one another with unnecessary sarcasm. Jen and Jeff never made themselves uncomfortable to be around and I always appreciated that. They knew about my smoking fetish as the result of a drunken night not long after we had all graduated from college. We were at a local bar celebrating Jeff's first job when in walked this girl who may have been the hottest creature I had ever seen. She had beautiful silky brunette hair that was pulled into an inverted ponytail but was still long enough to hang back down over her shoulders in lazy curls. Her dark eyes and black halter top were contrasted by soft, pale skin. She was simple yet elegant and incredibly sexy. I turned to my friends and said, "Would you look at that chick. She is hotter than Texas asphalt." Even Jen agreed that the woman was stunning. She sat down across from us and it was all I could do to keep from staring a hole through her. It was already love at first sight but when reached into her purse and took out a pack of cigarettes I nearly fainted. I had a radar lock on her as she took a cigarette out of the pack and lit up. She was very good. Not the best that I had ever seen but light years ahead those gimpy social smokers that populate every bar in America. She took a healthy drag and inhaled it with enthusiasm. She would hold the cigarette up by her cheek and then cock her head back and blow a tight stream toward the ceiling in a very sexy pose. She smoked like a woman should. It looked like she enjoyed her cigarettes and I was certainly enjoying the show. In fact I was mesmerized. Jeff tapped me on the shoulder and said, "If you don't stop staring at that girl she is going to have you arrested for stalking." "I can't help myself." I said. "There is something about her that is irresistible." "Yeah she's really hot but you can't just keep glaring at her like that. It's creepy." He said. "No, there's more to it than that." "Like what?" He asked. In my drunken stupor I let it slip out. "She is a great smoker." The cat was out of the bag. I spent the rest of the evening fielding questions about my fetish. Jen and Jeff were surprisingly receptive. While they did not quite understand the pathology of it they were not judgmental in any way. In fact they seemed to be a little fascinated by it. From then on every time we were out in public and an attractive girl would pull out a pack of cigarettes one of them would say, "Smoker at three o'clock. Go over and offer her a light." I was deliberately evasive and tried not to let on the extent of my fetish. They were accepting of it as it was and I did not see a need to be overly revealing; however, it didn't take them long to figure out that I only dated women who smoked. I was in the middle of a six month dry spell when Jeff asked me if there were any prospects. I said no and he asked if it was because I could not find any girls who smoked. "There are plenty of smokers out there, just none that I am interested in." I said. "What kind of smoker are you interested in?" He pried. I knew he would continue to press so I said, "I like a girl who smokes but doesn't look like she smokes." I could tell by the puzzled look on his face that I needed to explain further so I continued, "You know how a lot of times when you see a certain type of girl you can tell right away that she smokes." "They are usually a little trashy." He said. "Have you ever seen a girl light up a cigarette and said to yourself `Wow, I can't believe SHE smokes'?" I asked. "Sure." "That's the kind of girl that does it for me." I finished. "You really are limiting yourself." He said. "I know, but I like what I like." About a month later Jeff called me up and told me that there was a new receptionist at his office. He said she was very cute and innocent looking but had turned out to be a smoker. He was all excited and insisted that I meet him and some of his coworkers for happy hour that Friday. "You said you liked girls who smoke but don't look like they do. This girl is perfect and she's single. I was shocked when I saw her outside with a cigarette in her hand. Why don't you meet up with us and I'll introduce you." I reluctantly agreed. Jeff and his coworkers were already at the bar when I arrived. He immediately introduced me to the new receptionist using the fact that we both loved baseball as a lead-in. Her name was Danielle and she was very attractive. Jeff was right; she did not look like the type of girl who smoked. Her face was very pretty and she did not attempt to cover it with make-up. She wore these adorable little glasses and had her hair back in a bun. She reminded me a little bit of my third-grade teacher. In addition to a smoking fetish I had always had a little bit of a teacher fetish as well. So far so good. We immediately started talking baseball. It was great to meet a woman who knew what an RBI and the Infield-Fly Rule were. It turned out that her uncle had played professional baseball and would frequently give tickets to her family. She developed a love of the game as a young girl and had continued to follow it. Danielle was very down-to-earth, and while it was one of the most engrossing conversations I had ever had with a woman, I was starting to get anxious waiting for the payoff. After what felt like a half-hour she finally said those magic words: "Mind if I smoke?" "Not at all." I replied. As the saying goes, be careful what you wish for because you just might get it. To my horror she was one of the worst smokers I had ever seen. She smoked Marlboro Ultra Lights and took the shortest drags possible. If she inhaled any smoke at all I could not tell. I was immediately turned off. From that point on all I wanted to do was grab her by the shoulders and say, "Why are you smoking? I don't see any purpose. Just quit already because you are wasting my time and yours." I am not the kind of person who hides his feelings very well. When I am disinterested it shows. I sat there for another hour trying to look as bored as possible in hopes that she would get the idea and move on. No such luck. Women want what they can not have and sometimes the best way to attract a woman is to appear indifferent. Apparently that is what happened because she would not leave me alone. At the end of the evening she asked if I wanted her phone number. Not wanting to insult my friend I took it. Two weeks later I got a call from Jeff wanting to know why I had never called Danielle. I tried my best to give him an excuse but he was not buying it. "What is wrong with her? She smokes, she doesn't look like it, she likes baseball, and she likes you. What more do you want?" He asked. "I'm sorry but she just doesn't do it for me." I said. "You're impossible. If you insist on being this picky you are never going to find anyone." From then on my smoking fetish never came up. Jen and Jeff had let it drop altogether and I certainly was not going to initiate the discussion. Years went by and while I dated whatever decent smokers I could find, I assumed that they had forgotten all about it. That was why I was extremely surprised when Jen called me out of the blue one night and told me about her new co-worker. "There is this girl who started working for my company a few months ago that you have to meet." She said. "I don't think that is such a good idea-" I started. She interrupted, "This girl is exactly your type. She is super petite, extremely attractive, and smokes like a chimney. She is also very smart, really nice, and hasn't had a steady boyfriend in almost two years. You will love her. I just know it" "Sounds like déjà vu all over again." She continued, "This girl is a hard-core nicotine junkie but you would never know from looking at her. She looks like she just got back from bible study but you should see her devour a cigarette." I said, "I don't know. The last time you guys set me up it didn't go so well." "Trust me, you are going to want to meet this chick. I think she's cute and I'm a girl. The smoking part does nothing for me but if I was ever going to be with another woman she is the type that I would go for." That is what sold me. I found out from Jen that she had already told this girl about me; how it had been a while since I had been with anyone and how I did not mind women who smoked. She was interested enough to let Jen give me her phone number. It took me almost a week to work up the nerve to call. Her name was Amanda. She was thirty four years old and a chemical engineer at the same company that my friend Jen worked at. Normally I find it very awkward to have an introductory conversation over the telephone; however, Amanda was very easy to talk to. We clicked almost immediately. After getting the perfunctory small talk out of the way I asked if I could see her that weekend. "Yes, I think I would like that." She said. I could hear her smile through the telephone. "I will pick you up at seven o'clock on Saturday." I said. "Sounds good. Where will we be going?" "Don't worry, I'll think of something good for us to do." I said. My plan was to take her to a place where she could smoke. During our telephone conversation she had mentioned that she like to play pool so I decided to take her to a nice restaurant for dinner and then to a local pool hall where we could not only talk but she could smoke as much as she wanted. I knocked on her door at seven o'clock sharp and when she answered I knew another of my requirements had been fulfilled. She was exactly the kind of woman that I find irresistible. Not necessarily the type that would make jaws drop but she had an understated, approachable beauty that spoke to me. Her skin was smooth with nary a blemish. She had dark hair, beautiful eyes, delicate features, and a body to die for. Her breasts were not very big but they were perfectly proportioned relative to the rest of her body and it looked like her ass and legs were tight enough to bounce quarters off of. She was cute and beautiful all at the same time, the kind of girl that you just want to pick up and hug. I was anxious for her to smoke, both because I wanted to see if it was all that Jen had made it out to be and because this was where I had been burned the last time. She was going to make me wait for it because she did not ask if she could smoke in my car on the way to the restaurant. That was understandable since we had just met, but still I was dying to see if she was going to inhale cigarette smoke with the gusto that I had been promised. The hostess at the restaurant asked if we preferred smoking or non-smoking. "Smoking." I said without a second's hesitation. Amanda's eyes widened indicating pleasant surprise. We were not at the table for thirty seconds before she said what I had been waiting to hear: "Mind if I smoke?" "I insist." I said, fighting back a smile. She pulled out a pack of Camel Filters, tapped it gently on her wrist, and then extracted one of the precious white and orange cylinders. I was like a kid at Christmas as she clicked her lighter, put the flame to the tip, and began to draw. It was everything that I had hoped for and more. She smoked smoothly and purposefully without a hint of reservation or self-consciousness. She would bring the cigarette to her lips, cock her head slightly to the left, and take a heavy drag during which her cheeks would cave in so far they nearly touched one another. Her eyes lost focus as she was dragging on her cigarette, almost as if she was concentrating on what she was doing. Clearly this woman's goal was to get as much smoke in her lungs and as much nicotine in her system as possible. Once the drag was finished she opened her mouth and pulled the smoke down into her waiting lungs. I could almost detect a brief flash of satisfaction on her face as the smoke filled her alveoli. We continued our conversation and she continued to smoke right up until the food arrived. I was enjoying her performance but there was a nagging feeling that something was missing. I could not put my finger on it but it was beginning to bother me. I was cutting into my steak when all of the sudden it hit me: She never exhales. She had smoked three cigarettes before dinner and not once had I seen her exhale any smoke. Could it have been my imagination? Of course she had exhaled. She had to. Maybe she was exhaling very slowly and I could not see it because of the dim lighting. All I wanted now was for her to finish her dinner so she would light up another cigarette. No sooner had she swallowed the last bite of her entrée then she reached for her pack of Camels. I watched intently as she took her first drag. I saw the smoke pull back into her throat as she opened her mouth and inhaled. She started saying how wonderful her meal was and how she was curious where we were going next. I kept waiting for that stream of smoke but it never came. She went through the entire cigarette without a single wisp of visible smoke ever coming out of her mouth or nose. She had another cigarette as we sat and finished our drinks. Once again I monitored her for some sign of exhaled smoke. Once again I came up empty. At this point I was beyond curious. We left the restaurant and made our way to the pool hall. She did not ask if she could smoke in my car which at that point was surprising since she had no idea how long it was to our next stop, although she did ask how much further about five minutes into the ride. "Don't worry." I said. "It's only a couple more miles." As we pulled up in front of the building she said, "You're taking me to play pool. It's so sweet of you to remember that I like to play." She sounded genuinely excited about pool but I also knew that cigarettes were on her mind and she was relieved to be some place where she could smoke. I asked for the most secluded table in the place so we could continue our conversation from dinner and I could continue to explore the mystery of the disappearing smoke. She whipped out her pack of Camels and laid it on the high top that was next to our pool table. Smoking and pool go together like corn flakes and milk and it was obvious that she intended to do some serious smoking while we were there. She put one between her lips and let it dangle as she picked out a stick. Once she found a cue that was to her liking she sparked the cigarette and pulled the smoke into her lungs, never to be seen again. An hour later, four games were in the books, Amanda had smoked seven cigarettes, and I was no closer to an answer. It was driving me nuts wondering where she put all of that smoke. She was a tiny girl; about five feet, two inches and maybe one-hundred pounds soaking wet with a rock in her pocket. All I could think of was those tiny little lungs getting bombarded with cigarette smoke. Where did it go? I was unable to remember ever seeing anybody who did not exhale at least a little bit. We were in the middle of our last game. It had been a wonderful evening so far. I was very attracted to her and I thought she was attracted to me. Even though I had obsessed about her apparent lack of exhaling, we still had wonderful conversation over the course of the evening. I was starting to feel very comfortable with her and decided that I was just going to go ahead and ask. There was no sense in letting this stew or playing coy. If it was meant to be then everything would work out. I line up a shot at the five-ball, missed the side pocket, and said to her, "Can I ask you a question?" "Sure." She said. I continued, "I've seen a lot of people smoke cigarettes in my life. Every one of them exhaled at least some smoke after taking a drag. It just seems to be a part of smoking. You know, smoke goes in, smoke comes out. I couldn't help but notice but you do not exhale any smoke at all. I've never seen anything like that. Where does all of the smoke go?" She let out a little laugh and said, "I don't exhale it. I absorb it." "I've never heard of anyone absorbing smoke before." I said. She elaborated, "You're right. Most people take a drag, inhale, and then blow the smoke right back out again. I don't do that. I inhale the smoke and keep it in my lungs until it is completely absorbed." She replied. "Why do you smoke that way?" I continued to query. "I always looked at it like this: Smoking is a choice. I choose to smoke because I enjoy it. It makes me feel good. The entire point of smoking is to inhale cigarette smoke into your lungs so you can enjoy the sensation and absorb the nicotine. It never made any sense to me to inhale the smoke and then exhale it right back out again. It is a huge waste. When I inhale my smoke I want everything that I can get out of it." She said. I asked, "Do you hold your breath after taking a drag? We've been together all evening and you've been talking and smoking the whole time and never seemed uncomfortable." She said, "Do you really want to know? I've never had anyone ask me about how I smoke before. You seem very interested." I said, "It's just that I've never seen anyone smoke the way you do. If we were only sitting across from each other for a few minutes I never would have noticed (I lied) but I've had the last several hours to watch you smoke and I'm curious as to what's going on." She leaned up against the table, put the cigarette to her lips, took a huge cheek-hollowing drag, pulled the smoke into her waiting lungs, and smiled. "OK, if you really want to know. What I do is create a smoke vacuum. As I'm dragging on the cigarette I exhale as much air as I can through my nose. This creates a vacuum and when I take the cigarette out of my mouth the smoke automatically gets pulled down deep into my lungs. Once the smoke is in I continue to inhale air. That pushes the smoke all the way down to the bottom of my lungs. Then I can continue to breath normally, talk, or do whatever with the smoke locked in. I just enjoy the feeling of being full of smoke. My lungs tingle and it makes me feel alive. By the time the sensation is gone and I'm ready for another drag, my lungs have absorbed the previous hit." "Isn't that dangerous?" I asked, watching her lips closely to see if any smoke escaped. "It sounds like it would wreck your lungs in a hurry." "That's the chance I take. I love to smoke and want to do it the right way. We all have to die sometime. I just choose to live my life with as much pleasure as possible. Besides, I'm thirty-four years old and have been smoking for about fifteen years. I've been doing it this way for at least ten of those years and my lungs don't seem to be in worse shape than anyone else who has been smoking for as long as I have. I might get a little winded walking up a long flight of stairs and have a bit of a smoker's cough in the morning, but I really don't think it has affected me any worse. In fact, I think the way I smoke might be helpful." She said. "How so?" I inquired. "Most people breathe very shallow using only the upper part of their lungs. I mean, how often do you really take a deep breath besides when you yawn. Not very. What I do is push the smoke down into the part of my lungs that doesn't get used very much. I put that unused lung area to work and continue to breathe normally. Since the every day part doesn't have to handle much if any smoke, I don't suffer from too many side-effects." She continued, "Also, most people that smoke for an extended period of time get that gravely smokers voice, particularly women. That hasn't happened to me because I inhale the smoke so deeply and it's a one-way trip. It actually annoys me to watch other women waste their smoke. So many of them are what I call `throat smokers'. They barely inhale at all. How much nicotine could they possibly be getting. I can't imagine that is any fun. Cigarette smoke irritates the throat. Why not just inhale it down where it can do some good and keep it there." "I guess that makes sense." I said and gave her a wry smile. My curiosity was satisfied but my boner was at full mast. The conversation moved on to other things as the night came to an end. When I got her home I gave her a gentle kiss on the lips, told her what a wonderful time I had, and asked if I could see her again. "Absolutely." She said. "I was hoping you would ask." Our second date was a week later. Once again I was careful to pick a place where she was free to smoke. She had said that she enjoyed being outdoors so I made up a picnic lunch and took her fishing at a local lake. We had a great time sitting there on the shore of the lake, sipping wine, eating, and talking while waiting for a bite on our lines. Amanda smoked with the same intensity that she always did and though it was a little strange at first, I loved watching her absorb her smoke. Suddenly her line began to jiggle. She stood up and excitedly began to reel in her catch. I got the biggest kick out of watching her pull a small sunfish out of the lake. With a lit cigarette held firmly between her lips she reached down, grabbed the wriggling fish, extracted the hook, and tossed him back in the water. Standing in front of me was a real woman and I just sat back and took it all in. She noticed that I was staring at her and said, "What?" "Nothing." I said. "I was just impressed by the way you handled that fish." We sat in silence for a moment when suddenly she got a devilish look on her face and said, "Can I ask YOU a question?" A direct satire of the same thing I asked her a week earlier. "Sure." I said. Not knowing what was about to happen. "Are you turned on by women who smoke?" I was stunned. I certainly did not expect to be found out this early. I was completely caught off guard and did not know what to say. All I managed to get out was a pitiful, "yes." "I though so." She said. "First Jen tells me that, although you don't smoke, you have gone out with several women who were heavy smokers and didn't mind it at all. Then you asked that question about my smoking. I was giving you detailed play-by-play and you were hanging on my every word like I was quoting gospel. I knew something was up. Most non-smokers don't really want to hear how I go about ruining my lungs." "Was it that obvious?" "Yeah." She replied "Uh, I'm sorry. I hope that doesn't bother you." I said. "What are you apologizing for. I don't mind at all. In fact I'm thrilled. Do you know how hard it is to find a man that is willing to put up with my smoking. The kind of men who are heavy smokers are not the kind of men I want to date and the guys who are social smokers still think I smoke way too much. Forget about non-smokers. That is, unless, I find one that is attracted to smoking." "It's true. I find a woman who smokes cigarettes very sexy. That's why Jen thought I would like you." I said. "Do you find all women who smoke attractive?" She asked. "No, I have a specific type of woman that I'm attracted to. If she smokes then it's a double-bonus. If a woman turns me off physically then all of the smoking in the world won't help." I replied. "What kind of girl are you attracted to?" She asked, obviously fishing for a compliment. I strung her along, "I like a girl with natural beauty, who has confidence in herself, and who doesn't need a lot of fluff to make herself pretty. I like a real woman." "Do you meet many of those?" She asked again. "I've met a couple, but there is this one girl who is absolutely gorgeous and smokes like an angel." I smiled. "Do I know her?" "I think so." I said. "It's someone that I hope to spend more time with in the not-too-distant-future." "I know that girl. She thinks she is lucky to have found someone that appreciates who she is. She is looking forward to being with you as well." And then she bashfully lowered her head. I had not seen a woman that beautiful in ages. Flush with the glow of new feelings we sipped at our drinks for a minute and took it all in. Finally I asked the obvious question, "So how did you start smoking?" "You might not believe it but I was a real goody-goody in high school." She said. "My parents were very strict and I led a sheltered life. I didn't drink, didn't smoke, got good grades, went to church on Sunday, the whole deal. College was the first time that I was away from home and free to meet new people and try new things. First semester freshman year I was still a bookworm. I didn't go to any parties and rarely socialized. I started to come out of my shell second semester. I began hanging around with a looser group of friends and started learning how to have a good time. Even though I would drink at parties, the idea of smoking had never crossed my mind. I had always thought it was disgusting and something that other people did. I was pretty blasted one night at this party and for some reason I reached over and grabbed the cigarette that a friend of mine was smoking. It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing. I sucked some of the smoke into my mouth like I thought you were supposed to. I was going to blow it right back out when someone bumped into me and caused me to inhale. It was one of the weirdest experiences of my life up to that point. Because I had inhaled it so quickly and hadn't had time to think, I didn't cough at all. In fact I kind of liked the warm feeling in my chest and the head rush it gave me. I would take drags off of my friend's cigarettes every once in a while but that was pretty much it for the rest of the year. I went home that summer and didn't really give smoking any more thought." "I had a much heavier class load my sophomore year and started to get stressed out around mid-terms. I had taken a couple of hits here and there but wasn't even really a party smoker at that point. The pressure started to get to me one day and the idea popped into my head that a cigarette might make me feel better so I walked down to the convenience store and bought a pack. I had no idea what to buy so I just pointed to a pack of Marlboro Reds and that's what the clerk gave me. I took the cigarettes back to my room and was nervous as hell before I lit up. Here I was a good little girl about to smoke her own cigarette." "Just as I took the first drag my roommate walked in. I was so startled that I inhaled the smoke straight down. She started yelling at me, asking why I was smoking in our room. I was so embarrassed that I held the smoke in my lungs and didn't blow it out. I stubbed out the cigarette so she would shut up but it felt so good and gave me such a great buzz that I knew it was something that I wanted to experience again." "Not wanting to start a fight with my roommate and feeling a little bit ashamed at doing something so dirty, I put my cigarettes away and actually forgot about them. That Friday night I went to a party and saw a couple of my friends smoking. I remembered how good that last drag had felt so bummed a cigarette and started smoking with them. I inhaled the smoke with no problem and really enjoyed how it felt in my lungs but I saw everyone else blowing out their smoke so I thought that was what you were supposed to do. I continued to bum cigarettes off of my friends more and more often, one of them finally told me to go buy my own. Then it hit me that I did have my own. I smoked that pack of Reds over the course of the next week and liked them even more than the Marlboro Lights and Parliaments that most of the other girls smoked. Once my pack ran out I bought another and slowly but surely became a full-time, addicted smoker. By the end of the year I was up to a pack-and-a-half and had a reputation as being a serious smoker. No one would bum cigarettes off of me because they thought the Reds were too strong. They started calling me Amanda Red." "Did you start absorbing your smoke in college?" I asked. "No, I didn't start doing that until a few years later. When I was in college I would inhale my drags very deep and hold them for a few seconds. I loved to feel the smoke swirl around in my lungs but everyone else exhaled their smoke so that is what I did. In fact I had a pretty good repertoire of tricks. I could do a great French inhale, some killer rings, and this trick where I would take a drag, inhale it, breathe in some air, inhale another drag, breathe in some air, inhale another drag, and then do an exhale that would start and stop like Morse Code. That one was always a hit. "Even though I was a heavy smoker, I never tried pot in college. All of my friends were big drinkers and never fooled around with weed. After graduation I started working for a company and became friendly with some of my coworkers. As it turned out they were big-time stoners. I was already a cigarette smoker so I had no trouble moving over to weed. We used to get high whenever we could. Since we were young and not making much money we tried to conserve our smoke as best we could. We always smoked out of a bong so we could get the most out of our stash. You would load the chamber, take your hit, extinguish the bowl, and then hold the smoke for as long as you could. It was considered a party foul if you exhaled too much. "After a while I got very good at keeping the hit in my lungs for as long as possible. One time I unconsciously exhaled extra hard through my nose after sucking the smoke into the bong chamber. When I released the carb the smoke shot all the way down to the bottom of my lungs. It felt great, got me stoned as hell, and earned me props for not exhaling any smoke at all." "In addition to not having a lot of money for weed, I didn't have much to spend on cigarettes either. I could only afford a pack a day which was cutting back from the one-and-a-half to two packs that I was up to in college. Then one day I had the idea to use my pot smoking technique with cigarettes. I exhaled as hard as I could through my nose as I dragged, inhaled the smoke straight to the bottom of my lungs, and let it soak in as much as possible. This enabled me to get as much nicotine as I could out of each cigarette. Over time my lungs got used to holding the smoke and just began to absorb everything that I put into them. As my career moved along and I began to make more money I started smoking more. I found that the more I smoked, the more my lungs absorbed, and the better I felt. It didn't take long before I was up to two packs a day again. For a while I was putting so much smoke into my lungs it was crazy. My friends and I would smoke weed every day after work and I would hammer it home with a load of cigarette smoke." She could tell by the look on my face that I was intrigued. "What I would do was take the biggest bong hit that I could, let it slide down into my lungs, take a huge hit off of a cigarette, and then inhale it as hard as I could. That would push the bong smoke deeper into my lungs and make it absorb even faster. There isn't a better high in the world then cramming the smoke from a strong cigarette on top of the smoke from some great weed. I would get so mangled on the weekends that I could barely move. Everyone else had a limit but my lungs just won't quit. I could fill them with smoke all day and they'd be hungry for more. Sometimes I miss smoking like that. I used to go through a quarter ounce of weed and almost a carton of cigarettes in a single weekend. I don't get stoned much anymore because of work responsibilities but I do get a craving for some serious smoke every now and then. Every once in a while I'll pick up a pack of those small cigars and just torture my lungs for an evening. They actually don't deliver as much nicotine as a strong cigarette because they aren't meant to be inhaled but I love the feeling of having my chest completely full of super heavy smoke. I'll do my old weed smoking trick where I'll take a drag off of my cigarette, inhale it, and then hammer it home with the cigar. I'll actually end up exhaling some smoke in that instance. Even my super lungs can't absorb that much" My dick was as hard as concrete hearing her talk about how much she loved to absorb smoke through her lungs. "Have you ever thought about quitting?" I asked. "My parents found out about my smoking not long after college. My mom begged me to quit so I tried for her. I only made it three days. I felt so horrible that I decided I would rather smoke as much as I want and take the consequences then feel like that for one second longer. I went out to the store, bought a carton of Camel Filters because they were out of Reds, and smoked two packs that night. My lungs never felt better and I have never thought about quitting again." I was in heaven hearing her talk about her smoking in intimate detail. I pressed on. "How do you make it through your work day? You can't smoke in the building. Don't you go nuts?" "I use a nicotine patch." She replied. "You mean the one that people use to quit smoking?" I asked. She continued, "I usually only have time for a quick break in the morning, maybe a half-an-hour for lunch, and then another break in the afternoon. Sometimes I might not even get that if we are busy in the lab. At best I might be able to get down four or five cigarettes over the course of the day. I would go crazy if that was the only nicotine my body got." "I'll smoke as much as I can while I'm getting ready in the morning and then another couple on the way in. When I get to work I'll put on a patch and that lets me get through the day with only a couple of cigarettes. My lungs miss the smoke but I'm usually so busy at work that I don't notice it too much. I make up for it when I get home though." She said. "That sounds dangerous. I thought they warned you not to smoke and wear the patch at the same time." "You're not supposed to but I do it anyway. My body is used to very high levels of nicotine. I only smoke a couple of cigarettes while I'm wearing the patch and then I take it off at the end of the work day. I would have nic fits from hell if I didn't." She said. I dropped her at her front door later that afternoon and gave her a longer kiss on the lips than last time. I got a full whiff of her scent and it flipped a switch inside of me. I was extremely attracted to this woman before but now it was becoming animal desire. The scent that filled my nostrils that day was the most arousing thing I had ever experienced. I knew I was going to have to wait and that was going to be excruciating. "I had a great time. I'll call you early next week." I said, barely able to contain myself. "I can't wait." She replied. I knew she felt the same way. Our third date started of wonderfully. We talked for two hours straight with barely a pause in the conversation. By the time the meal arrived it was apparent that we both wanted each other very badly and tonight would be the night that we would consummate our relationship. The original plan was to see a concert after dinner but when the waitress laid the check down in front of us we looked at each other and knew that there was only one place we both wanted to go. She took the lead and said, "I don't know if I'm in the mood to see a show tonight. Why don't we go back to my place and relax." "That's a great idea. I was thinking the same thing." I replied. The ride back to her house was about ten minutes during which she devoured two cigarettes. Amanda always smoked with a purpose but she seemed to be concentrating particularly hard this time. I tried to watch her out of the side of my eye while I drove. She could tell that I was getting excited and began to tease me by turning her head towards the window as she smoked. By the time we hit her driveway I was ready to burst out of my pants. The walk up to her door was the longest twenty seconds of my life. I walked behind her and just reveled in the scent. That mixture of perfume, shampoo, and cigarette smoke was so delightful that I almost came on the spot. I could not wait to get her into the house. She opened the door and began to walk in. Before she had taken two steps I put my hand on her shoulder and spun her around. I looked into her eyes and then gently pulled her toward me. I leaned in and slowly pressed my lips to hers. We shared an amazing kiss that was deep and passionate. Her breath, of course, was perfumed by all of the smoke she had taken in that evening but it was not in the least bit offensive. I have kissed women who have tasted like the floor of a frat house after they smoked. Amanda tasted as good as she smelled. This was a special woman. As we broke out of our kiss I picked her straight up off the floor and into my arms. "Oh." She said. "What are you doing?" I didn't say a word. I just carried her into the living room, sat her on the couch and moved in for more tongue action. We made out for what seemed like an hour. I had rubbed my hands all over her body and the feeling of her baby soft skin just made me more excited. It had reached the point where my balls were getting sore, so I was not disappointed when she broke off and sat up. "I really need a cigarette." She said. She walked over to a desk that was on the other side of the room and pulled out a pack of Camels that looked different than the normal Camel Filters that she smoked. She shot me a sexy look as she took one out of the pack, put it between her lips, and sparked up. She took a slow walk back to the couch bringing the cigarettes and body language that said "I want to fuck your brains out." back with her. "These cigarettes are unfiltered. The extra nicotine is a great aphrodisiac." She said. I could barely control myself. We moved off the couch and onto the floor, me sitting with my back against the couch and Amanda with her back up against me. I pulled the ashtray down off of the end table and put her potent cigarette in it for a moment. I slowly worked her blouse up over her head and then gently unhooked her bra. Now that her bosoms were free she leaned back into me, picked up her cigarette, and took a mighty drag. I could hear the smoke rush into her lungs and feel her chest expand as I pulled her close to me and massaged her breasts. The feeling of being this close to her smoke made me incredibly excited. I knew she could feel my engorged member pressing into her back because she began to move her ass back and forth in a slow grinding motion. I zoned out for a few minutes just enjoying the pleasure of exploring her body while she filled it with smoke. After snapping back to reality I brushed her gorgeous smoky hair aside and whispered in her ear, "I want to pleasure your pussy while you pleasure your lungs." Her head spun around and she blurted, "I can't believe you said that. Nothing would make me happier right now." "Your pleasure only makes mine better." I said. I scooped her up again and carried her into the bedroom. She got a slightly sheepish look on her face as I laid her down on the bed like she wanted to ask me something. "What is on your mind?" I asked "Would it bother you if I smoke a cigar?" "Of course not." I said. "This may sound weird, but I love to pack my lungs with smoke while my pussy is being stimulated. It drives me wild to almost suffocate myself with super thick cigar smoke. No man that I have ever been with has understood that but I thought that you might." She said. "Absolutely." I replied. "Anything that you need to do." "Thank makes me so happy. I am going to rock your world Mister. Just you wait." She pulled a pack of tipped cigars out of the end table, lit one, and said, "I like these small cigars with the tips on them because they taste good and they make a lot of smoke." And with that she laid back and began to fill up. I slowly and carefully pulled her pants off and began to tease her pussy through her panties. I was taking it slow but part of me just wanted to rip those panties off, ram my dick in, and drain my aching balls into her cunt. I remembered how excited she was at the thought of me eating her pussy while she smoked. Not wanting to disappoint, I refocused, stripped her naked, and moved into position. As I went to work on her pubic mound she laid back and smoked her cigar like it was pure bliss. She loaded her lungs very carefully to make sure that they were full of as much smoke and as little air as possible. I watched her take a drag, gently pull the smoke down in a tight ball, then take another and repeat the same slow inhale so as not to disturb the smoke that was already in there. Once her lungs were loaded she would inhale sharply to push that rich smoke down as far as she could and then squirm with delight as the smoke soaked into her system. She could actually hold four big drags in her lungs for almost thirty seconds before she had to exhale some smoke and breathe again. I counted. The more nicotine that coursed through her veins, the more she deprived her brain of oxygen, the more she writhed with pleasure. After about twenty minutes of stimulating her clit with my tongue and punishing her lungs with cigar smoke she sat up, placed her hand under my chin, lifted my head and said, "I want you inside of me." At this point I realized that we had not discussed birth control. "Do you have any condoms?" I asked. "It has been so long for me that I don't carry them around anymore." "It's OK. I'm on the pill." She said. "I would really prefer to wear a condom." I replied. "Don't worry about getting me pregnant. I have a very erratic menstrual cycle and have been taking birth control pills since I was seventeen to regulate it. The doctor says I've been on them for so long that my system would need six months to normalize if I did decide to get pregnant. As far as diseases go, it has been even longer for me than it has been for you." "Are you sure?" I asked. She looked me straight in the eye, took a long slow drag of off her cigar, sensuously inhaled it, licked her lips and said, "I want you inside of me right now." She laid back, spread her legs wide open and said with an impish grin, "Please fuck me." Unable to resist I climbed between her legs and began to rub the tip of my throbbing cock into her soaking wet slit. She filled her lungs with a three drag load in anticipation of me penetrating her. I let Amanda hold her smoke as I continued to tease her labia with my cock head. She finally exhaled and said, "Put your cock in me right now." I deliberately disobeyed and waited for her to fill up with smoke again. This time she stuffed her lungs with four massive drags. Just as she gave that final gasp to push it all down I parted her meat curtains with my cock. Her eyes almost bulged out of her head as I slid into her. It had been a long time for both of us. I was in awe of how tight her pussy was. Most women just lay there and let you fuck them. It is like their pussy is a receptacle more so than an active participant. Amanda's seemed to be alive. With every thrust her pussy would open up and then squeeze my cock as it slid out. I had never felt anything like it. We fucked for not more than five minutes before I began to lose my resolve. I did not want her to think I was a three-pump chump but my balls were at their breaking point and I was going cum soon. She must have been able to sense my peaking excitement because that was when she pulled my head down and whispered the sweetest words I have ever heard. "I need you to cum in my pussy." She said. I knew she was on the pill but Amanda asking for my cum surprised me. There is nothing sexier than a woman who craves a man's seed. I spread her legs wider and really began to stroke my penis deep into her pussy. She took a huge drag on her cigar and said, "Please dump your load in me. I want your sperm." I started thrusting deeper and deeper until I felt the knob of her cervix hitting against the head of my cock. I adjusted the angle until my dick was rubbing directly against it. I swear it felt like her cunt was drawing the cum up from my balls and her cervix was attached to the tip of my cock waiting to gobble it up. "That's the spot." She declared. She took another hit off of her cigar and inhaled it so far down that her toenails must have turned yellow. "Cum in me now!" My cock erupted like Mount St. Helens. The initial burst would have fired five feet across the room if I had pulled out. I was cumming so hard and so much it felt like someone was pulling a rope out of my dick. "Oh my God!" She screamed and began to pulsate and shake like she was having a seizure. The orgasm she had was the most awesome thing I had ever seen or felt up to that point. All I could do was hold on. After it was over I collapsed on top of her. We both lay there for a minute, my dick still buried in her pussy. I picked my head up and gave her a kiss on her smoky lips. "That was absolutely wonderful." She said. "I don't know if I've ever cum that hard before and I don't know if I've felt anyone cum that much." "Yeah, that was a lot." I replied. "Maybe we ought to get a towel or something otherwise there is going to be one heck of a wet spot." "That's OK, you don't have to." She said. "I don't want one of us to have to sleep in a puddle." "No one will be sleeping in a puddle. Nothing is going to come out." She said. "I just came a ton into your pussy. I'm sure something is going to run out." "Go ahead and look." She said. I pulled my still rock hard dick out of her pussy and watched for the river of cum that I was sure would pour out. Nothing. I sat there for several seconds and still nothing, not even a drop. By now Amanda was dragging on her cigar again and giggling. "What is so funny?" I asked. "I told you nothing would come out. My pussy soaks up cum like a sponge." She said. "Something will probably leak out later." "Nope. It's in there to stay." She replied. "How can your pussy hold on to that much cum?" I asked. "I don't know but it does. It's like my womb just sucks the cum in and won't let it go. My lungs absorb smoke and my womb absorbs cum." "That is the hottest fucking thing I have ever heard." I said. "I absolutely love the sensation of hot cum in my pussy. I can actually feel it move past my cervix. It is the only way that I can have a real orgasm. I can have a small one if I masturbate with a vibrator but it takes a big load of sperm flowing into my womb for me to really get off." Even though it felt like I had cum enough to fill a thermos my dick was pile driving hard again. "I haven't had cum inside me in almost two years. I'm so happy that you let me fill my lungs with smoke while you flooded my womb. I'm happiest when I'm full of smoke and cum." She said. By now her cigar was all but gone. I reached over to the end table and grabbed a fresh one out of the pack. I placed the tipped cigar between her pouty lips and lit it. Her cheeks touched one another as she pulled hard. Once she had a good drag she hauled it down into her lungs with an audible whoosh. She continued to inhale as her eyes rolled back in her head indicating pulmonary bliss. She reached her hand down and touched my engorged member. "My lungs are still hungry for smoke and my pussy is still hungry for cum. I've got a fresh cigar. Is any way you can feed my pussy a fresh load?" I woke up the next morning after a long night of sex. My balls felt like the size of grapefruit; I can only imagine what Amanda's lungs felt like. I came in her pussy three times and she had smoked four tipped cigars and I do not know how many cigarettes. Amanda was just waking up when I pulled the covers back and looked at the sheets underneath her butt. She was right. There was not a single drop of cum on the bed. I had pumped three gigantic loads into her womb and from what I could tell not a single sperm had managed to get out. Amanda let out a gigantic cough and moaned as she rolled over. I leaned in, gave her a kiss and said, "How are you feeling?" "My lungs are aching. I haven't smoked like that in quite a while." She said. "Are you going to be alright?" I asked. "I need nicotine but my lungs are too sore to smoke." She replied "Amanda can't smoke. I don't believe it." "I can but it really hurts to inhale." She said. "I wish there was some way to force the smoke down so I would have to pull it in myself." "Is there anything I can do?" I asked. "There is, but you don't smoke." She said. "Tell me." I said. "I'm not a smoker but it's not like I've never had a cigarette before. If there is something I can do to make you feel better I'll do it." "You could shotgun the smoke into me." She said. "You'll have to explain what that is." I told her. "Take a drag, put your mouth over mine, and then blow it into my lungs as hard as you can. It will force my lungs to expand, help clear them out, and give me the nicotine I need." She said. "Grab my unfiltered cigarettes please. I need a big dose of nicotine to get me going." I walked out to the living room and retrieved the pack of unfiltered Camels. I pulled one out and lit it as I returned to the bed. "You don't have to inhale it if you don't want to. Besides I don't want you stealing any of my nicotine." She joked. Heavy smoke and a couple flecks of tobacco filled my mouth as I dragged on the cigarette. I leaned down, placed my mouth over Amanda's, and blew the smoke into her as hard as I could. She moaned as her lungs began to expand. "Are you OK baby?" I asked. "It just hurts a little. More please." I repeated this process three times before her lungs were completely full of pressurized smoke. She let it soak in for as long as she could before she exhaled. It continued to amaze me just how much smoke her lungs could absorb. I had filled her with three big drags and she barely exhaled anything. At the end of her exhale she had a major coughing fit. "That's what I needed. The fresh smoke helps my lungs clear out the crud from last night." "Do you want me to keep going?" I asked. "You betcha. I'm enjoying this." She said. I was in the middle of filling her with a second load of smoke when I realized that my dick was getting hard again. Once her lungs were filled to capacity I took her hand and placed it on my growing member. "Oh my." She said. "You're ready to go again." "Helping you fill your lungs with smoke is getting me excited. I want to cum in your pussy some more." I said. "She is a little raw but I always want your cum. Why don't you let me take you in my mouth. You were so good to my pussy last night. I would love to swallow your load. I can't stand it when sperm goes to waste. Your cum either needs to be in my pussy or in my tummy." After I finished inflating Amanda's lungs with cigarette smoke, she rolled me onto my back and gave me the best blow job of my life. I have never had a woman who could deep throat my entire member. She took it in like it was the food of the gods. The way she pulled and stroked my balls while sliding my cock in and out of her throat felt amazing. It usually takes me about twenty minutes to come from a blow job. I was ready to burst after only five. Amanda could tell that I was getting ready to cum. She started to constrict her throat muscles around the head of my cock and stroke the shaft with her hand. Right when I exploded she pushed herself down to the base of my dick and let me shoot my sperm directly down her throat. I have never seen a woman take semen the way she does. I can not decide which is more amazing, the way her pussy extracts cum and then seals it inside or the way she pulls the cum out with her mouth and then gulps it down. She rolled over, patted her belly, and said, "Another one of your wonderful loads." "How do your lungs feel?" I asked "Better thanks to you. Why don't we get a hot shower. The steam will help open up my lungs and when we get out I should be able to smoke on my own." "Sounds good." I said. From then on Amanda and I were a couple. We would see each other during the week but it was the weekends that were fun time. We would try not to have sex on either Thursday or Friday and Amanda would try to keep her smoking to a minimum, maybe a pack a day. We would then spend the entire weekend in bed filling her with as much smoke and cum we could. One particular weekend she took eight loads of sperm, nine cigars, and six packs of cigarettes into her little body. Six of those loads went straight into her pussy and not a single drop ever saw the light of day again. I could not believe I had found a woman who was that smoke and cum hungry. She told me from that point on I was not to waste a single drop of sperm. All of it belonged to her. Even if I decided to jerk-off I was to cum in a cup and then give it to her as soon as possible. "Do you want to drink it?" I asked. "No, I only swallow fresh sperm. I want you to pour it into my pussy." I got the chance to test her on it a week later. It was late Friday evening. I had not seen her since Wednesday and we were not supposed to get together until the following afternoon. I was incredibly horny and was unable wait any longer. I went into the bathroom with a small plastic cup and proceeded to rub out a load of sperm. I collected every drop in the container and then called Amanda on her cell phone and told her what I had done. She said that she was out with a friend but to hold on to it. She would be by later that night. She rang my doorbell at around eleven o'clock and immediately demanded, "Where is my cum?" I pointed to my balls and said, "Right here." She said, "No, I want the cum you rubbed out earlier. You don't get to put another load in my pussy unless I get that one first." I took her into the bedroom and showed her the cup of semen sitting on the dresser. She took it over to the bed, pulled her pants down and said, "Since you pleasured yourself, I get to do the same. I am going to rub my clit and you are going to sit here and watch. When I tell you I'm ready you will pour your cum into my pussy. Make sure you don't spill any." She laid back and said, "Ah hem, I'm missing something here." I knew exactly what she meant. I pulled a cigarette out of the pack that was in her purse, put it between her lips, and lit it for her. She decided that since she had a captive audience she was going to tease me for a while. She put on a smoking display that was the sexiest thing I had seen do far. She took drags that were so slow, deep, and sensuous that it was all I could do to keep my own pants on. Once the smoke was locked in she would rub her chest with one hand and rub her clit with the other as the smoke permeated her body. "Ooh, my lungs are really starting to round into shape. I think they could use some thick cigar smoke." She said. It just so happened that I was prepared for this. Earlier in the week I had bought a pack of her favorite cigars. She was quite surprised when I pulled them out of the drawer. I placed one between her lips, lit it, and then I whispered in her ear, "Please let me fuck you." "No, you are going sit there and watch me smoke myself to the verge of orgasm and then you are going to pour that load of cum into my pussy." She said. Amanda would normally just do a straight drag on her cigar but this time she started puffing on it, generating a huge cloud of dense smoke. Once the cigar was hot enough and putting out the thickest smoke possible, she took one final draw and slammed it down into her lungs. "I'm going to absorb every bit of the cigar smoke that is in my lungs. I know that makes you hot." I did not say anything, I just pulled off my pants and started stroking my erect penis. I watched as she punished her lungs with drag after drag. She would make a big cloud of smoke but once she inhaled that smoke it was inside to stay. Her cigar was half gone when she said, "I'm getting close. Get the cum ready." I picked up the cup and waited for the order. She rubbed her clit furiously as she loaded up her lungs for the final assault. She performed the same maneuver that she did that first night where she laid in several drags, one on top of the other, and then rammed it home with a big inhale. "Pour it in me." She yelled as she curled herself into a ball and pulled her pussy lips apart. She let out an excited "Ooooh." as I carefully poured the thick liquid down her snatch. "Holy shit I can feel it flowing through my cervix." She said in a strained and excited voice. I could see bliss on her face as she felt my seed run into her cum-starved womb. "Fuck me. Fuck me now." She commanded as she pulled me on top of her. I slid my dick into her sodden pussy and began pumping as hard as I could. She let loose with an orgasm that was biggest I had seen. I though for sure she was going to pass out. I started pumping her deeper as the crest of the orgasm passed. My balls felt like they were going to explode. She caught her breath and said, "More cum. I need more cum in my pussy." I jockeyed into my favorite position where the tip of my cock was pressed up against the opening of her cervix. If she liked to feel cum shoot through it then I was going to make sure that was what she got. "Oh sh..." I yelled as the first jet of cum shot out. I didn't even get the word "shit" out before she went completely berserk. "OH MY GOD!" She wailed at the top of her lungs. The sound came from so deep that any residual smoke that might have been trapped inside was surely blown out. Her fingernails dug into my back as she launched into an orgasm for the ages. I have never heard a person make sounds as loud and as primal as she did that night. When it was all over she passed out cold. Normally it is the guy who falls asleep after sex. This time Amanda was out so fast she did not even reach for her post coital cigarette. The next morning she woke up in my arms and gave me the biggest kiss and warmest smile. "I want to tell you. That was the most incredible experience of my life. I had no idea it was possible to orgasm like that. I was serious when I told you that I didn't want you to waste any of your semen but I was half-kidding when I said that I wanted you to pour it into my pussy." "I didn't really think you were serious either." I said. "Once I got here and saw your sperm sitting in the cup I knew I had to have it inside of me. The feeling of your cold sperm running down into my pussy, through my cervix, and into my womb was the most amazing feeling I've ever had. My cervix was wide-open after that first orgasm." "I know. It felt like I could almost fit the whole head of my dick through it." I said. "When you shot your load straight through my cervix into my womb, I've never felt that close to another human being. You buried your sperm so deep in me that I swear it touched the smoke that was in my lungs. It was like we brought the two things that I love the most together inside of my body." Hearing Amanda talk like started to excite me again. "You are so fucking hot I can't stand it. I want to blast another load into your womb." I said. "My cervix is closed now. keeping all of your cum from last night inside. If you want to ejaculate again, why don't you let me swallow your next load. I can smoke while I suck it out." That's my girl. |
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