Smoking Fetish Comes To Life

I know exactly where my fascination with hot, beautiful women smoking a cigarette comes from. Melanie, my mother's busty blonde bombshell of a best friend. Fuck, I produced some big loads thinking of her.

Around the time I turned eighteen, I noticed Melanie more than ever. Forty-years-old, always wearing attire that hugged her gorgeous curves, just sitting there in the kitchen with my mother drinking wine. My mother incidentally didn't smoke. Melanie would take long, deep drags, hold the smoke inside her lungs for a couple of seconds, then exhale a thick cloud from her sexy, pursed lips.

I'd be in the kitchen sometimes, making myself a drink, but I was really just watching her, admiring what a stunning MILF she was, wishing her cigarette were my cock. She always seemed to know when I was looking at her, and she would give me this coy, ball tingling smile.

Nothing more than that ever happened, sadly. But I would have loved to have been her young fuck-toy, pounding my hard cock into her mature, married cunt while she smoked one of her Marlboro's for me. Granted, I wouldn't have lasted very long, but she would have taught me so much.

Ironically, I never dated girls who smoked. I'm a sucker for brunettes with big tits first, and the ones I dated never smoked, just like my beautiful, curvy wife, Kate. We met when we were twenty-five, and got married three years later, but didn't start raising a family until we were thirty-two.

Until then, we had lots of fun that you might get to read about if I write the tales.

Two months before we got married, Kate was watching TV in the living room one afternoon, while I was up in the loft sorting through boxes as part of a major clear out. As I worked through what was being kept and thrown out, I came across a box with Kate's old university stuff inside it. We didn't know each other back then, so I picked up a photo album and opened it.

"Ohh, what do we have here?" I chuckled.

The images were of my fiancée when she was a few years younger, having the time of her life. She looked eighteen at the start, gradually aging to twenty-one as I went through the album. The photos captured those years beautifully. Party's, university, city trips, a theme park, more party's, and a handsome, athletic boyfriend. That one stung more than a bit.

Nearing the end of the album, my eyes became fixated on a photo that set my heart racing. No way is that the girl I'm marrying. But it was. It was just a version of her that I never knew existed before.

In the photo, Kate is posing confidently at a party in a tiny, black halter dress, her big tits barely contained, screaming for attention. Her brown hair is longer, her makeup heavier, with fake lashes, bright red lips, and smoky blue eyes. Large, thin, gold-hoops are dangling from her ears, and a delicate gold necklace with a "K" pendant sits right in the middle of her tits.

If discovering that my fiancée used to party hard and dress like a total slut, not to long ago, wasn't enough to get my juices flowing, then you can bet your bottom dollar that the cigarette she's holding near her face was. In her other hand she's holding a bottle of Smirnoff Ice at waist height. I slipped the photo out and safely made my way down the ladder.

"Hey, Kate!" I called out to her, bouncing down the stairs. "You never told me that you used to smoke and dress like a slut," I said, laughing as I entered the living room.

"Where the hell did you find that?" She exclaimed, leaping out of the chair like she was ready to fight as I held the photo up to show her a memory of her past.

"In the loft, in an old photo album," I answered, chuckling. "It looks like you used to party hardcore and get fucked senseless. Shame I didn't know you then."

My fiancée was not impressed. She looked embarrassed and snatched the photo from my hand for a closer look. It was clearly a part of her life that she had either forgotten or chosen to forget.

"How old are you in that photo?" I wondered. It wasn't about her age. She looked early twenties. It was the slutty dress, the hair, the makeup, and jewellery, and the cigarette with smoke curling up.

"I'm not sure. Nineteen or twenty," she muttered. "I can't believe you found this."

"Why not? You're sexy now at twenty-eight, why wouldn't you be sexy back then? It's not that long ago." I told her.

"God. I look awful," she sighed regretfully.

"No you don't," I scoffed. "Can I keep it for when I need to uh... you know..." I laughed.

"No!!!" she shrieked, but at least she also laughed, plus I was only joking anyway.

Kate sent me back into the loft to fetch the photo album. We then sat at the kitchen table looking through it together. We laughed as she reminisced, and I stopped teasing her. She was light-heartedly embarrassed to see the person she used to be. I didn't say it, but I loved the few party photos of her dressed like a complete slut while holding a cigarette.

I asked her gently about the smoking. She shrugged it off before explaining it was something a lot of her friends at university were doing. But by the time she had turned twenty-three, she had quit and become a young, professional woman.

Her timeline meant that we met two years later, so I never knew the girl who came before the woman I fell head over heels in love with. Kate said I didn't need to know her; she wasn't that girl anymore. She was right, but that didn't mean the old Kate couldn't be resurrected occasionally to add some extra hot spice to the bedroom.

That night in bed, I brought her past up again. We'd been going at it for about ten minutes and had switched from missionary to all fours. Kate loves it from behind. I had my hands on her wide hips, gripping her tightly as I pounded her deep. She was begging for it as her big tits swung beneath her, both close to the finish line.

I grabbed her long, brown hair and pulled her head right back, grunting how much it had turned me on to discover that my beautiful wife-to-be was once a smoker who dressed like a slut. Kate pushed back harder, demanding I make her come. I asked her right there and then if she would ever dress like a slut and smoke again.

Only when we had collapsed, exhausted and satisfied, did my fiancée reply. She looked into my eyes and smiled softly, apologising. It was something she wasn't comfortable doing, not even with a herbal cigarette or a modern-day nicotine-free vape. With post-nut clarity, I told her it was fine, I was only joking, I laughed.

I didn't really want Kate to light up after five years of being smoke free. I loved her exactly as she was. Prim, proper and professional to the outside world, but a free, fun-loving spirit in ours, and a wild cat in bed. I had everything I needed already. We laughed it off and fell asleep.

The next morning, however, the fantasy reignited when Kate walked into the kitchen ready for another day at the office, wearing black low-heels and a grey sleeveless, knee-length, sheath dress. Her shoulder-length brown hair was in an elegant up-do, as it so often is for work, and lovely diamond stud earrings.

As always, a cup of fresh coffee awaited her. I was sat at the table with my tousled, blond hair, lean and slender, also ready for work in black trousers and a Henley sweater. Kate has always been envious of my employers relaxed attitude towards smart, casual attire in the workplace.

"Morning," she smiled, resting against the countertop as she picked up her coffee.

I didn't respond. I just looked at her with a warm, affectionate smile, full of admiration. It was like seeing her for the first time. She appreciated it and giggled.

"What?" she asked curiously.

"Can't a guy just appreciate how lucky he is to have such a beautiful woman?"

"Of course he can, but there's something else going on in that brain of yours," she said, laughing. "You're staring at me."

I took a sip of coffee then set the cup back down again, my grin stretching. "I'm not staring. I'm simply admiring the view."

"Is that right?" Kate raised a brow.

I chuckled. "Well, I was admiring, but now I'm imagining."

"Imagining what exactly?" She laughed and took a dose of caffeine.

"You. I'm imagining you standing exactly as you are." My eyes skirted the length of her five-seven, curvaceous figure in the dress. "Left hand holding that cup of coffee... but in your right hand you're holding a cigarette between your fingers... smoke curling upward from the tip," I confessed to the vivid picture in my mind.

Kate burst into laughter. "You're crazy, Harry. You want me to suddenly become a smoker because you found out that I used to be one? That was five years ago."

I stood and walked over to her, tracing a finger down her cheek, so not to ruin her subtly polished makeup. "Of course I don't. You're my girl. I love you. But there is something alluring about a confident, attractive woman smoking a cigarette. I'd just like to role-play it once. You wearing something that gets the pulse racing. Something like a tiny, black halter dress."

We both laughed at how silly I sounded, but I was being deadly serious, and yeah, incredibly selfish to ask her to smoke.

"Sorry, babe, but I can't give you that fantasy. I didn't even know that you felt this way about smoking until you saw that damn photo album. I'm younger in it." Having run out of time to finish her coffee, Kate put her cup down and kissed my lips. "I have to go before I get stuck in traffic."

"It's not about how old you are in the photo, Kate. It's how hot you look. The kind of hotness I want to get tangled up in," I said mischievously, stepping aside.

She grabbed her black handbag and made it to the doorway. "You mean how slutty and trashy I looked," she said, blowing me a kiss before she left the house laughing.

"Just have think about it," I shouted to her.

Over the next few days, I kept bringing it up playfully around the house during those flirtatious moments we often enjoyed. But Kate would simply laugh and tell me to stop embarrassing her. I soon got the message. I was risking pushing her too far. Kissing under the bed covers one night, I stopped and looked deep into her eyes.

"I've been thinking about how I reacted to those photos, particularly the one where you're posing with a cigarette in that..."

"Yes, I remember it. You don't have to keep reminding me," she sighed.

"Exactly. I got carried away and I'm sorry. I realise you're not that girl anymore, and I don't need you to be. I love the woman I am marrying. It was crazy, fantasy talk. I promise to put the album back in the loft and never mention it again. Forgive me?"

"Thank you," she replied, kissing me with a big smile.

"But I did mean what I said. It does turn me on, so if the idea ever crosses your mind one day, then just know you can tell me. And the for the record, I don't see a slut in those party photos. I see a girl who knew what she wanted and didn't give a damn what other people thought. That's power, and you should never feel embarrassed about your past, okay?"

Kate laughed. "Ok, now stop rambling like a fool and fuck me like you mean it."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"And never ever call me Ma'am again." We both laughed as she spread her legs and pushed my head down her body. "Now be a good boy and make me come."

The next day normality resumed, back to talking about the wedding, which was only two months away. Letting go of the photos of Kate wasn't so difficult. It wasn't like I had become obsessed or anything. I didn't even think about her smoking during sex either. I couldn't lose what I didn't have to begin with.

A week later, Kate began to show the first signs of stress over the wedding. Everything had to be perfect, but a few minor issues arose. Plus, her employer was putting unfair pressure on her to complete a report for an upcoming project, so she worked from home in the hope she would complete it on time.

Another week later, I came home from work late, having gone for a beer after with some colleagues. Kate knew about it, but when I walked through the door, I found a note on the stairs asking me to take a seat.

"We need to have a serious chat about the wedding. Please just sit in the living room and I'll be down in a moment. I'm sorry, Harry, but something has been bugging me for a while now, and we need to talk."

My heart sank to its lowest point since we had met. I trusted my fiancée wasn't about to call off the wedding and break up with me, but the note was the last thing I ever expected. Kate wasn't normally like this. I took a seat in the living room, loosening my collar as I waited anxiously.

"Uh?" I muttered when I heard a pair of heels striking the floor in the hallway, a sound I only heard when we went out on a Saturday night. This was a Friday evening.

"Don't say a single word," Kate warned the moment she stepped into the living room looking like a wet dream come true.

Holy fuck! I exclaimed in my head as she walked towards the mantelpiece wearing a short, deep burgundy, halter dress, and gold strappy heels, which I had never seen before. Damn, what looked like a crocodile textured material clung to her buttocks and hemmed just below them.

Kate reached the mantelpiece before turning around to face me, hands on hips. I gulped, wanting to say so much, but too scared to because of the look in her eyes. I could not believe what I was seeing.

The halter neck plunged so low it barely contained her 34DD's, which were only held together by a small, gold clasp right at the middle of her chest, while the fabric hugged her narrow waist and full curves perfectly, stopping high on her full thighs.

"Ignore the note," she said, her tone cracking. "I just wrote it to get you in that chair. But don't speak until I tell you to."

I nodded as I drank her in from head to toe. Her long, brown hair was wavy, and her face was slutty, glamorous with smokey blue eyes and glossy red lipstick. The gold strappy heels wound all the way up her calves. She had gold everywhere, in fact.

Big hoop earrings, thickly stacked bangles on both wrists, and that delicate necklace from the photo with the tacky "K" pendant. My fiancée looked incredible, and my cock was instantly hard for her.

Kate turned to the side and moved a thin kitchen towel across the mantelpiece, revealing a clean glass ashtray, a black lighter, and a pack of unsealed Marlboro Gold cigarettes. Fuck yeah, I thought, rubbing my hand down the front of my trousers, eager to watch her light up.

"Take off your pants," she instructed, picking up the items before walking over to me. "And put a cushion on the floor between your legs for my knees."

Kate was nervous. Her hands were shaking and she was too rigid compared to the other times she had taken control of a sexy situation. I followed everything she said and kept my mouth shut, knowing she would relax soon enough.

Trousers and boxers on the floor a few feet away, I sat there with my legs spread, stroking my hard six-inch cock, watching my fiancée kneeling on the cushion. She put the ashtray to the right of her on the floor, then opened the pack of Marlboro Gold. I noticed two or three were missing.

I figured after five years of no smoking; she must have smoked at least a couple to find out if she could still do it. My cock throbbed in my hand at the thought of that first cigarette, as I watched her take one out and put the cork filter between her red lips. She dropped the pack close to the ashtray then pressed down on the lighter.

I gulped again, my expression full of anticipation as she brought the medium sized flame to the tip of the cigarette. But Kate paused just short of it, her smokey blue eyes staring deep into mine, which flicked between hers and the bright flame.

After what felt like forever, Kate glanced downward for a split-second, drawing on the filter as the lighter burned the unlit tobacco. I exhaled a deep sigh of relief and excitement, watching her cheeks hollow and the tip of the cigarette turn orange before she looked up at me again.

"The hottest thing I have ever seen," I breathed, needing to say something.

As Kate put the lighter down on her left side, she held the cigarette elegantly between the index and middle fingers of her right hand as she inhaled the smoke deep into her lungs, where she held it for a few seconds before exhaling like a boss.

Watching that first plume stream to the left of me from her pursed lips had me squeezing my cock, as did the deep, burgundy, crocodile textured dress. It stretched tight over the inviting swell of her big tits, with the inner curves pressed together in a deep valley as she smoked.

"I said don't say a word. I can't believe I'm doing this for you, right now," she confessed, giggling shyly, embarrassed.

"Okay," I spoke softly, nodding my head.

Kate put the cigarette between her glossy, red lips again, then drove me even crazier with lust when she raised both arms, elbows out, and buried her fingers in her lush, thick brown curls. She pushed her hair up and back, so nothing hid her face, the large gold hoops framing her cheeks.

Behind closed lips I gritted my teeth to stop myself from speaking out again. The cigarette sat perfectly between her full, glossy lips with delicate curls of smoke rising from the tip past her right eye before it drifted toward the brilliant white ceiling.

God, I wanted to cum all over her in that position, and she damn well knew it, the sexy minx that she is. Kneeling there between my legs. The tip glowed faintly when she drew, then smoke drifted slowly out the corner of her mouth in a lazy yet controlled manner. I kept stroking to the sight of her and the scent of tobacco.

Kate's beautiful blue eyes looked directly at me, half closed because of the smoke, but it made her look sexier rather than like she was struggling. She expressed a mix of obedience and arrogance that only she could, knowing how much power she held over me, despite being on her knees.

I was already close to shooting my load when she brought her left hand down to rest on her bare thigh, and her right hand to remove the cigarette from her mouth. She tapped it over the ashtray then took a deep, meaningful drag, eyes locked on mine before she inhaled with a sultry smile, holding the smoke again, teasing.

I shifted my butt to the edge of the seat and rolled my foreskin right back, offering her my glistening head. Kate smirked, leaned forward slightly, then exhaled a thick, steady stream into my crotch. I let out a deep groan as the smoke engulfed my cock and balls before it drifted up my body and into my face as I breathed it in.

"Oh, fuck..." I quivered in the chair.

Kate put the cigarette between her lips and raised her arms, elbows out again. But this time she wasn't reaching for her hair. She reached behind her neck and unclasped the halter dress, slowly peeling the front down, exposing her awesome big tits and erect nipples as smoke drifted all around her. I was utterly mesmerised.

With her soft, juicy melons on full display, she took another deep drag, removed the cigarette with her left hand this time, and wrapped her right hand around my cock. I sat back gasping in immense pleasure as she took the head into her mouth and exhaled two streams from her nostrils.

"Oh fuck, Kate..." I let out in awe.

Stroking my shaft, she looked up into my eyes as she brought the cigarette back to her lips for another drag. No words, she swallowed the smoke, inhaling deeply, then exhaled directly down on top of my cock before swallowing that too, sealing her smoky red lips tight around my shaft, deep throating me for a few seconds.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum if you do that again," I warned her in case she had other plans. She most certainly did.

Kate crushed the cigarette butt into the ashtray and immediately pulled another one from the pack. No hesitation. She picked up the lighter, rose to her feet, and straddled my thighs. The short hem on her dress naturally rode high as she did it, exposing her glistening pink, shaven cunt.

"I'm not complaining," I breathed heavily, as she brushed her swollen mound against my rock-hard cock." But what made you change your mind?"

"Not now," she whispered, placing another cigarette between her lips and lighting it like she had never quit smoking.

I couldn't stay submissive any longer. I put one hand on her wide hip as she leaned back to take a long, deep drag, feeling the unusual texture of the dress, and positioned the head of my cock at her opening, which was already slick and parted slightly to accept me.

"Go slow," I told her, pushing up into her juicy cunt. "I want to savour every moment of you doing this for me."

"I'm doing it for us," she rasped, exhaling a thick cloud up at the ceiling as she sank onto me effortlessly. I nearly came right there and then, feeling her pussy clench.

"Ride me slowly while you smoke normally," I said, more asking than telling.

Kate smiled into my eyes as she took another drag, leaning back with her other hand behind her, pressing into my leg for support as she settled her weight on my cock, moving her hips slowly. I'm definitely marrying the right woman, I thought.

"Is this how you imagined it?" she asked in a teasing voice, holding the cigarette near her face as we made hot, smoky love.

"No. This is so much better," I replied, downloading every detail into my mind.

She looked so fucking hot riding my cock while she smoked that cigarette, flicking the ash behind her onto the wooden floor. The dress was taut around the tops of her thighs and around her soft tummy, big tits jiggling lightly rather than bouncing, with the gold "K" pendant just above them.

Face full of makeup, large gold hoops swaying on the side of her cheeks, grinding in slow circles as she brought the cigarette back to her lips. I could almost feel every deep inhale and taste the smoke when she held it before exhaling up at the ceiling.

"Let's come together before the cigarette ends," she sighed, needing to orgasm.

"I'm right there with you, babe," I groaned, pulling down on her waist as I sucked her nipples and began to thrust my hips up.

"Oh, that's it," she moaned, then locked the cork filter between her lips.

She let it hang there, smoke curling up in front of her face, while she reached down between us and began to rub her clit and buck her hips against me. It was the sexiest I had ever seen my fiancée, smashing my mild smoking fetish out the park, surpassing memories of Melanie.

When Kate began to tremble in orgasm, she must have forgotten about the cigarette between her lips because her mouth opened to let out that energy. I thought the cigarette was going to fall onto my shirt, but when it stayed stuck to her bottom lip, my eyes widened and I shot the hardest load ever into her cunt.

Only once she had finished climaxing did Kate remove the cigarette from her mouth, climbing off with cum running down her leg. With barely a drag left, she squatted down and stubbed the second butt into the ashtray before dashing off to clean herself, leaving me sat in the chair inside our smokey living room, satisfied.

Kate returned a short while later having removed the jewellery and changed into jogging bottoms and a jumper, but the makeup was still on her face. I was fully dressed, and I had cleaned up a little, the scent of cigarette smoke still lingering.

"So, what made you change your mind?" I asked, feeling guilty for her smoking.

"When I started working from home, I looked through my old photo album a few times, during my lunch breaks. I laughed at it, and then at how it had affected you. As I looked at all the party's and my old friends, I realised I wasn't the only one dressed in barely-there outfits and felt an unexpected sadness at what once was."

"I understand. Have you ever thought about reaching out to those friends?"

"Not really. I didn't ditch them. We just went off in different directions, and I'm not on social media. Anyway, I thought about what you had said to me... seeing a girl who knew what she wanted and didn't give a damn what other people thought."

"And?"

"I felt different and saw myself in the photos as evidence that I was a confident, sexually powerful, young woman rather than someone to be ashamed of. I asked myself if it would be so bad if I embodied the old version of myself for one night..."

"Damn, that's deep, Kate. I don't want you to become a smoker, and we don't have to do this ever again. I know it was selfish of me to ask. I take responsibility for that."

"Don't be silly," she smiled. "I love knowing that I can blow your mind. It was only a few cigarettes... and the three I used to practice before smoking for you."

"Did you enjoy doing it?" I wondered.

"Umm," Kate thought about her answer. "Yes, as a one off," she replied nonchalantly.

"I agree. No more smoking. But the dress, jewellery, and makeup, yes please." We both laughed, sitting down to watch TV.