Anette, Part 2 | |
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Please post this story anonymously - Anette part 2 I awoke with Anette still asleep in my arms, her head resting against my chest. I was, at first, surprised that the previous night wasn't a dream. I reached over for the pack of Marlboros, and Anette stirred. Her naked body shuddered slightly, and after a hacking cough to clear her tarred-up throat, she looked up and smiled at me. "Morning," she whispered, her voice a silky smooth soft rasp. I kissed her on the lips, offered her a cigarette which she gratefully accepted, and lit her up. Anette took her first drag of the day, sucking three times before inhaling more deeply than usual, and then sighing with relief as she exhaled from her lips and nose. We each slipped into one of my gowns, and sat close together on my small couch. Anette chain smoked as we talked. "How long are you staying in the city?" I asked. Anette drew heavily on her Marlboro. "In a week I'm going home to Cedarwood." Cedarwood was her family's country estate. It emerged that she had become bored living there, and intent on changing the subject, slipped off the white gown I'd given her, to reveal her bronzed and toned naked body, and moved on to my crotch. I got the sense that Anette became aroused due to our conversation as well as our physical contact. "I don't want to talk about me, tell me about you," she mock-pleaded. My story, which I'd always thought was interesting, sounded to me as boring as anything as I watched the beautiful Anette puff on her Marlboro, sitting in my lap. I told her that my father, who I had never known, had been jailed when I was two, and that I had rarely attended school, brought myself up and taught myself, eventually aspiring to the most prestigious college in the country. Anette nodded, smiled, smoked. I felt that she somehow already knew all of what I was telling her. When I was done, Anette threw her cigarette aside and, sensing that I was now rock hard, began to remove my gown. We kissed furiously, I kissed her from her gorgeous lips, to her perfect breasts, all the way down to her toes. Anette lit another Marlboro, leaving it dangling from her lips as I entered her. We broke into an explosive rhythm, I ground myself into Anette and she began gasping for breath, cigarette still between her lips, the hot ash burning both our bodies as we had frenzied sex. We spent nearly all the following week together. I hardly attended one lecture, but I wasn't concerned. We talked about our lives, our hopes for the future. We walked about town together, I took her for a drive in the country. Anette smoked throughout. She told me she needed three packs a day, but that she'd smoked five packs in a day before. I challenged her to show me, and she did, allowing me to light one cigarette after another for her. On our final day together, we spent twenty hours in bed. We made love, drank vodka straight from the bottle, and as Anette smoked one pack of Marlboros after another, I lay there caressing her perfect body. Anette joked that smoking herself to death did wonders for her figure, and was much more enjoyable than the jogging ten miles, as I did twice a week. I had to agree. All good things must come to an end though, and this was no exception. Sort of. Anette returned to Cedarwood at the end of the week, but we kept in touch. In our letters we each expressed our longing to be together, and the sound of Anette's soothing smoke-cured voice over the telephone regularly left me in a state that only an ice cold shower could remedy. As many times as my schedule would allow, we would meet up. I would borrow a car and drive down to the village next to Cedarwood, where Anette would be waiting. She always looked stunning - I was never disappointed. I would bring her gifts of Marlboro packs and she would smoke the entire pack just to say thankyou. We would walk hand in hand through the picturesque village, in the summer Anette would be barefoot, totally uninhibited, with a cigarette dangling from her lips, only so be removed when she softly spoke. I was even able to meet Anette's parents. Though I had never experienced the wealth and luxury that the Cawoods lived in, Anette had told me that I would not be nervous, that I would walk into Cedarwood House as if I owned it, and sure enough I did. Whilst I had never been a fan of the bourgeoisie, even I could not deny that Anette was at her most elegant in the luxurious setting of Cedarwood House. The way she lit her cigarettes, with a glass in one hand, against the backdrop of the oak panelled room, convinced me that she was the most stunning, beautiful and intelligent lady I'd ever met. Her liberal and carefree personality, when it came to smoking, sex and anything else, was the perfect antidote to the otherwise stuffy world in which she had grown up. Earlier this year I started my final year at college. I'd worked every hour available and applied for every loan from the bank just so that I could pay for a place of my own, and Anette could move in. And it has been worth it. To spend a day with this beautiful lady, as she smokes her way through three packs of Marlboros a day, is beyond my wildest dreams. That Anette feels the same way about me is unreal. She has a natural beauty which allows her to wear the simplest clothes - a plain white shirt, sometimes tied up exposing her slender midriff, a pair of old Levis and bare feet - and still look stunning. She smokes naturally and effortlessly, allowing her cigarette to dangle from her fresh young lips for minutes on end, as if it were part of her smooth, sensuous body. Unafraid of the health risks, she flaunts her smoking, but in a beautifully understated way. Annette feels that no-one can stop her enjoying her life, living for the moment. She never excercises, yet her body is toned and youthful. During the summer, Anette is quite uninhibited, wearing clothes that expose as much of her beautiful skin as is possible, yet always appearing naturally elegant. Her lit cigarette is ever present, either between her perfect fingers or clamped in her sensuous lips. When her naked body is next to mine, I can hear and feel her smokers chest heavily drawing in air. Her early morning cough sounds so deep and warm it breaks my heart. Her silky rasping voice caresses my mind just as the cigarette smoke caresses Anette's lungs. She is a beautifully lawless lover. |
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