A Worthless Filthy Fucking Smoking Trash Cunt Whore

  

CHAPTER ONE

Tracy liked to smoke. And she liked to fuck. And she liked to smoke and fuck. And fuck and smoke. In fact, she loved smoking and fucking so much that fucking without smoking just wasn’t quite the same. Though smoking without fucking was still pretty fucking good.

The only problem was, Tracy’s boyfriend Charlie didn’t like smoking and fucking. Don’t get me wrong – he liked fucking. But he didn’t like smoking. And he didn’t like Tracy smoking. And he didn’t like fucking Tracy when she smelled of smoke. This was a problem, because Tracy didn’t just like smoking. She loved smoking. She adored it, she worshipped it, she lived for it. Which is kind of hard when your boyfriend hates it.

Most mornings, Tracy woke up craving a cigarette. And a fuck. Question is, if you can’t do them at the same time, which do you do first? Generally speaking, the cigarette won.

This particular Monday morning, Tracy got up extra early because she had a job interview to go to. Actually, she got up early because she was desperate for a cigarette, and she knew that there was a chance she might tiptoe outside, sneak a smoke, and then have a shower before Charlie woke up. She left him asleep in bed, put her dressing-gown on over her nightie, retrieved her packet of cigarettes and lighter from her handbag, and made her way downstairs and onto the back patio. She dangled a Marlboro Lights 100 between her lips, flicked the lighter, and felt her lungs fill with that glorious first-of-the-morning cloud of acrid smoke. Her lungs starved of nicotine after a whole night without, she didn’t bother to remove her cigarette from her lips to exhale, instead taking her favourite deep hands-free double-pump, no, a triple-pump – uh, no, make that a quad – until she felt that wonderful light-headed relief begin to take hold. Clouds of smoke poured luxuriantly from her nostrils as she clasped her cigarette firmly between her lips, the ash-end glowing bright with each drag from her needy lungs. “Oh fuck, that’s good!” she muttered to herself, making the cigarette jiggle up and down between her lips, as she felt her body being slowly suffused with that nicotine-induced pleasure she loved so much.

“Like when you really need a piss, and at last you get to have one,” she had tried to explain to Charlie – the closest comparison she could think of for a non-smoker. But she knew that that was a poor metaphor. Because smoking was like nothing else on earth. It was the centre of her being, it was the greatest delight of her life – yes, even more than fucking – which she knew Charlie would never understand.

Tracy’s cigarette was still firmly clasped in her mouth, for so long now that her saliva was causing the cork end to soften and adhere to her lips, and she had lost count of the number of multi-pumps she had taken. The as-yet-untapped ash-end was now at least a third of the length of the cigarette and sagged precariously, threatening to drop off and make a grey smear down the front of Tracy’s dressing gown. Just one more before I flick the ash, she thought, taking another long drag as deep as she could into her lungs, smoke still pouring from her nostrils. The ash-end dropped off onto her dressing gown. “Fuck,” she swore under her breath, hastily brushing it off with her left hand while flicking the cigarette with her right to tap off the loose ash. “Fuck, I’m smokin’ this so fast,” she muttered, struggling in vain to neatly flick off the ash-end, which was still glowing under the onslaught of her powerful smoking.

“One more drag, Trace, and this cigarette will be finished,” she muttered to herself, feeling quite high now. But then, informally assessing her own nicotine level, she thought again: Oh fuck, was this one enough? She knew the answer to the question already, clamping the dwindling cigarette between her lips again, shutting one eye to shield herself from the smoke curling up from what was rapidly becoming a short butt, and taking a deep tar-laden final drag whilst removing a second cigarette from her packet. It looked so new, so pure, so pristine in comparison to the damp, yellowing, misshapen butt in her mouth, which she now used to chain-light her second cigarette of the morning. “Oh fuck yeah, that’s good,” she muttered as the newer, lighter smoke from the new cigarette filled her lungs.

This one she was able to smoke initially with less desperation, but more pleasure. She still took deep drags, but removed the cigarette from her mouth after each one, allowing a small ball of white smoke to escape her lips, which she snap-inhaled with practised elegance. But she was still horny, which meant she had a choice: would she go inside and get herself fucked by her big-dicked boyfriend, or instead rub herself off here and now while she smoked? The former option was no longer practical, as she now reeked of smoke – which Charlie would certainly not put up with. And so, Tracy thought, option number two seemed a really good idea. Her back patio was, fortunately, not overlooked, and was sheltered from the view of any neighbours. She sat down on one of the patio chairs, clamped her cigarette between her lips again, slid her right hand under her dressing gown and nightie to find her pussy, and began to gently rub her clit.

Smoking was one of those strange things: whilst it satisfied Tracy’s nicotine cravings, it made her horny instead. And when both horny and high, Tracy liked to talk dirty under her breath: “Fuck yeah, that feels so fuckin’ good. Smoke that cigarette, bitch, while you rub your fuckin’ pussy.” All hope evaporated of smoking this second cigarette more elegantly than the first. She dragged deep on it again and again, clasping it between her lips whilst smoke poured out of her nose and, as she muttered to herself, the edges of her mouth. “Oh yeah, I’m gonna fuckin’ come, oh fuuuuuck!!!” She came hard but as quietly as she could (Mustn’t let the neighbours hear!), panting as her cunt spasmed around her fingers and smoke poured in and out of her desperate lungs.

Having orgasmed, Tracy’s desperation subsided somewhat, and she finished off her second cigarette more gently, taking the time to use her spare hand to gently comb through her long black hair, still somewhat dishevelled from her night’s sleep. She exhaled a couple of perfect narrow cones of smoke through her full lips into the still early morning air, then tipped her head back to perform a few nostril exhales through her delicate elfin nose, and finally blew a few batteries of small but lush smoke-rings, which drifted lazily upwards into the sunshine. There is nuffink better than smokin’! she thought to herself. Except maybe cummin’ on smoke, she thought, as she sniffed the cunt-scented fingers of her right hand. What a shame Charlie won’t let me smoke while he fucks me!

The thought brought her back to the bleak reality of her current situation. Now what do I do with Charlie? she wondered, as she stubbed out her second cigarette butt of the day. He’ll know I’ve been smokin’. Fuck.

Charlie was still asleep as Tracy, reeking of smoke, tiptoed past him into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth, gargled with listerine, showered, washed her hair, gargled and brushed her teeth again, before tiptoeing naked back into the bedroom to dress. But Charlie was now awake, sitting up in bed: “Hey, come here and fuck me, darling,” he called in his customary Surrey drawl.

What do I say? Tracy thought to herself on the hoof, ‘Sorry, babe, I just schlicked my cunt off on the patio while chainin’ two cigarettes, so I don’t really need a fuck now’? Not a good way to start the day… So instead she made excuses: “Sorry, babe, I gotta rush. Got a job interview this mornin’. Lemme have breakfast first, then I’ll see if there’s time.”

“Oh come on, if you have breakfast then you’ll want your first cigarette, and then you’ll smell of smoke. Let’s fuck now, then you can eat and then smoke and then go.”

‘First cigarette’? thought Tracy. If fuckin’ only! Tracy studied the bedside clock. “Okay, babe. But we gotta be quick. Why don’tcha give me a quick doggy fuck?” she suggested, thinking to herself, That way he’ll be less likely to smell the smoke on my breath… And then she added out loud, so as to seem a bit more keen: “Then we can have a nice long fuck tonight, with blowjob and sixty-nine – and you can fuck my arse and everyfink, okay babe? Just a quick doggy in my pussy now, though!”

“Sounds good to me!” replied Charlie.

And so it was. Tracy knelt on the bed and stuck her arse in the air so Charlie could admire her gorgeous cunt, framed between her two beautiful round buttocks, and covered with a soft thatch of black hair. He approached from behind, crouched down, and began to kiss her arse, first all over her gorgeous buttocks, and then slowly homing in on her moist scented arse-crack. Tracy felt him bury his nose between her rear cheeks, nudging gently up against her brown hole so his tongue could snake underneath to lick her dangling fuck-lips. “Oh fuck, baby, that’s good,” intoned Tracy, as his tongue slobbered over her hot cunt, the tip catching every now and again on her clit. Silently she also thought: Good. If he gets cunt-juice all over his face, then that’s all he’ll be able to taste, and he might not notice the smell of smoke…

But now Charlie’s tongue was moving north, gently flicking at the tight brown bud of her arsehole as he probed one finger into her wet cunt. “Oh yeah, Charlie, lick my arsehole while you finger-fuck my pussy, baby – that’s so fuckin’ good,” whimpered Tracy. Charlie’s ministrations slowly eased Tracy’s cunt-lips apart, so they were wet and ready for his cock. He knelt up so his big dickhead could gently nudge its way between his girlfriend’s cunt-flaps. He kissed the back of her neck, and reached one arm around her to stroke her small pert tits, making her nipples begin to puff up with pleasure. Tracy shifted so she was at just the right angle to take Charlie’s dick all the way in, and pushed backwards so that his cock slid smoothly into the depths of her cunt.

“Oh fuck, baby, that’s good!” exclaimed Charlie, as he felt Tracy’s soft velvety depths caress his shaft all the way down. “You are so fucking sexy!”

“That’s me!” replied Tracy coquettishly, tossing her mane of black hair and jiggling her arse as she slowly fucked her cunt back and forth on Charlie’s hard rod. She had never found doggy-fucking particularly pleasurable (No way of rubbin’ my clit, that’s the problem, she thought to herself), but thought it a worthwhile price to pay for keeping Charlie happy and avoiding another row about her smoking. Every now and again she pulled off almost entirely, so that Charlie’s dickhead nudged just in-between her juicy fuck-flaps, and gently jiggled her hips around to tease his glans, before lunging backwards to engulf his fuck-stick whole and entire in her hot cunt. Charlie was in seventh heaven: “Oh fuck, that’s so fucking good, baby. You sure know how to fuck a dick, baby. Now turn over so I can fuck you mish.”

Oh shit, thought Tracy. How do I get out of this one? But then she had a brainwave: “Let me go on top, babe. That way you can see my face and tits…”

Obediently, Charlie lay down on his back, letting Tracy climb on top and start to fuck her cunt up and down his hard shaft. Eager to make him come soon, she used all her best tricks, loosening her cunt muscles before sliding smoothly down, and then squeezing tight around his rod before lifting up. Charlie was happy: “Oh yeah, baby, you are so fucking sexy! Let me kiss you, babe,” he said, holding up his arms affectionately.

Oh shit, thought Tracy again. She really didn’t want to kiss him now. She knew he would smell smoke on her breath – despite the multiple gargles: Charlie was never fooled. “Hey, let me fuck you cowgirl a bit longer, baby. Yeehaw, pardner!” she joked, rather lamely, as she slapped her right buttock and bounced her cunt up and down his cock faster, hoping to make him come before he insisted on kissing her on the lips. It didn’t work. Charlie was approaching his orgasm and didn’t want his girl semi-detached any longer. He pulled Tracy downwards and began to lick her face, probing her lips with his tongue. Tracy reluctantly reciprocated, opening her mouth to intertwine her tongue with his, hoping against hope that, in his ecstasy, he wouldn’t notice or wouldn’t mind the disguised reek of smoke on her breath.

She hoped in vain. “Aw, fuck, Trace, what the…? You’ve been smoking already? What did you do, sneak outside while I was asleep?” She felt Charlie’s dick go soft inside her.

“Aw, Charlie, I cleaned my teeth and gargled and everyfink. Can’t you put up with it?” she pleaded. “After all, you like the way I fuck you, don’tcha? Here, let me fuck you till you come in my cunt, hey?”

“You don’t realise what a fucking turn-off it is, do you, Trace? How can I fuck a girl who stinks like a fucking ashtray when I kiss her? Can’t you even go one morning without it? I thought you promised me you’d have your first cigarette after breakfast!”

“Yeah, maybe I did – but it’s not so easy, babe: I really need my cigarettes. Please, let me make you come now. Then you’ll feel better, and it won’t matter anymore.” Tracy started to rub her wet pussy against Charlie’s deflated dick, trying – in vain – to get it hard again. But it was not to be. Charlie had lost interest – and his temper.

“You pathetic bitch!” he sneered. “How dare you treat me like this?” He pushed Tracy off him, his cock still slimy with fuck-juice but now completely soft. Tracy sat at the foot of the bed, her legs apart and her half-fucked pink cunt still on full display – but Charlie was no longer interested. “This is my house! If you want to live in my house, you follow my rules. Your smoking habit is disgusting and filthy. I won’t a have dirty smoker in my bed!”

“Your house! It’s your fuckin’ parents’ house! And how the fuck would you live in this fuckin’ house if I didn’t earn the money to pay the fuckin’ bills? You ‘won’t have a smoker in your bed’?! You’re perfectly happy to have me in your bed when I’m suckin’ your cock, or when you’re coming all over my fuckin’ face – or when you’re eatin’ my arsehole! How come smokin’ makes me dirty, but lickin’ my shitter isn’t dirty?! What the fuck! You just use me to get your end off when it suits you! You don’t care about me!”

“I earn as much fucking money as you do! Who’s the one who keeps getting fucking fired from her job? And why? For fucking smoking on the fucking job! I’m not the only one who thinks your smoking is disgusting! And it’s not as if I’m the only one who likes getting fucked! ‘Please, Charlie, fuck me, Charlie, I’m so fuckin’ horny, Charlie, I need your dick in my pussy, Charlie…’ Jesus fucking Christ, am I the only one who wants to get his end off?!”

“Well, at least I’m tryin’ to get a job! Not like you, with your fuckin’ music! How much fuckin’ money have you made this month? You’re not the one answerin’ job ads!”

“Oh yeah – what is it: ‘Number One Fucking Ladies Fucking Detective Agency’? What the fuck is that? What do they want – a filthy toilet-cleaning whore? Well, you’ll do, ‘coz that’s all you’re fucking good for, YOU WORTHLESS FILTHY FUCKING SMOKING TRASH CUNT WHORE!!!”

Tracy’s eyes welled up with tears, and she ran sobbing from the room and down the stairs. At first she was determined to walk out immediately and never come back, and in her rage reached the front hallway before she realised she was still stark naked and – even worse – had forgotten her cigarettes. “Fuck, what do I do now?” she muttered to herself, wiping the tears off her face. Of course, there was nothing for it. Now she really needed another cigarette – and she couldn’t smoke in the house, so she would have to eat humble pie, go upstairs, and dress in the bedroom before leaving.

She needn’t have worried: Charlie was now in the shower, and the door to the bathroom was shut. Tracy hastily dried her hair, threw on her grey skirt suit, grabbed her make-up bag and her cigarettes, came downstairs again, and let herself out the front door. She lit her third cigarette of the day on the front doorstep, leapt into her car, and drove away. By the time she had reached McDonald’s she was on her fourth cigarette, which she smoked in the car through her Egg McMuffin and coffee. Cigarettes five and six dangled from her lips as she did her make-up and hair in a lay-by. And by the time she reached her destination, a car park behind a small suburban office-block, she was on number seven. So much for all that fuckin’ garglin’! Tracy mused. They probably won’t hire me now: they’ll smell the smoke on me. Nobody wants to hire smokers these days. We stink too much. And we waste time going on fuckin’ smoke breaks. And we smoke in the fuckin’ toilet because we’re too fuckin’ lazy to go ouside. “And I am, after all” – she sighed, as a wave of genuinely shameful melancholy briefly overtook her, “a worthless filthy fuckin’ smokin’ trash cunt whore…”

For a moment, tears welled behind Tracy’s eyes. But then the image of Charlie screaming at her entered her mind again. She took a long last drag of her cigarette, exhaled half of her lungful between pursed lips, and then let the rest out in a series of gentle puffs as she said out loud, “Fuckin’ dickhead.”

CHAPTER TWO

‘Number One Ladies Detective Agency’ – so it actually exists, mused Tracy as she read the brass plaque on the door. Wasn’t there a TV programme or somefink? Oh, what the fuck… She rang the doorbell. It was answered by a strikingly attractive black woman – older than Tracy by a few years perhaps, but slender, glamorous, and with large breasts straining at the jacket of her rather fine red skirt suit. “Tracy? Come in. I’m Billy Webb,” said the woman with a broad smile, as she proffered her hand.

Tracy went into full job-interview mode, instantaneously pushing all cynicism, doubt and nerves to the back of her mind, and smiling just as broadly as she shook the woman’s hand. “Very nice to meet you, Ms Webb,” she said, putting on the poshest accent she could.

“Please call me Billy. And do come and sit down. Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?”

“Oh, just a glass of water, please” answered Tracy, taking care to pronounce the “t” in “water” correctly – like Charlie always did. Billy’s office was a large room, with all the normal paraphernalia – a couple of large desks, some filing cabinets, and a seating area with a leather three-piece suite arranged around a large coffee table – on which, intriguingly, sat a large, but apparently clean and unused, glass ashtray. Tracy sat on the edge of the sofa, opposite Billy’s armchair. The next fifteen minutes or so passed thoroughly pleasantly. Billy went through Tracy’s CV with her, asking her gentle questions about her educational background and professional experience: educated at a comprehensive school and a middle-of-the-road polytechnic, with experience as a receptionist, secretary and personal assistant in various small companies. Tracy kept smiling broadly, doing her best to appear enthusiastic about anything and everything her interviewer brought up, and to pronounce all her consonants correctly. Billy also told her a bit about her company: a one-woman private investigative operation, dealing mainly with run-of-the-mill divorce cases requiring a bit of subtle surveillance “to check whether the man’s sleeping around, or has a second family somewhere, you know the sort of thing.” Tracy laughed nervously.

“Don’t you worry about any of that, though, Tracy,” said Billy reassuringly. “I do all the field work, so to speak. I would just need you to man the office, deal with phone calls, do the filing and the bookkeeping and other admin work. My previous assistant had to leave suddenly last month, and I have been having trouble finding someone to fill her shoes. No one I have so far interviewed has been entirely… suitable.”

Tracy looked quizzical. “Oh? What has been the problem?” (She was very careful to say “what has” rather than “wot’s”.)

Billy stood up suddenly. “Tracy, I have a question to ask you, for which I require an absolutely honest answer… Do you smoke?”

Tracy’s mind went into startled overdrive. Oh fuck – she thought to herself – she can smell the smoke on me. And she knows if I’m a smoker I’m always going to stink, and skive off for cigarette breaks and all that shit. I’m fuckin’ done for before I’ve even been given a chance. If only I’d just stayed off the fuckin’ cigarettes for one morning, I’d then at least have had a foot in the door.

All this passed through Tracy’s mind in a split second, but what came out of her mouth was not much more edifying: “Oh… oh… just a little, I mean, every now and then – you know, socially. But really hardly at all. And I’m planning to stop, really soon. My boyfriend and I are planning to get married, you know,” she lied, “and if we start a family I’ll definitely be stopping! It wouldn’t get in the way of work at all, I promise…”

Billy stayed standing, and looked down at Tracy with an inscrutable expression: Tracy couldn’t tell if it was amusement, pity or contempt – until Billy said, very slowly: “Tracy, you’re a filthy liar.”

In an instant, a wave of shock and humiliation came over Tracy. Her heart pounded, and she felt the moisture begin to well up behind her eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I should have known you could smell the smoke on me. Please, ma’am, please give me another chance. I need this job so bad, and I’m a really good worker. I promise it won’t get in the way of my work at all…” (Tracy pronounced the last two words “a’ aw’” – under the stress, she could feel her accent slipping again.)

“Tracy, tell me why you left your last job, with FCK Logistics.”

Oh fuck – thought Tracy again to herself – now what do I say? ‘I was fired for smokin’ on the job, whilst jerkin’ off in the ladies’ toilets’? I am really gonna say that? Unwisely however, Tracy lied again: “Oh, the hours weren’t really suitable for me. I wanted to spend more time with my boyfriend, and he works shifts, so I wanted a job which wouldn’t take me away at weekends so much, and…”

Tracy’s monologue dried up under Billy’s withering gaze. Oh shit – she thought – I’m telling so many fuckin’ lies I won’t know what I’ve said. I have totally fucked this up… Her face downcast, and the tears beginning to leak out and down her cheeks, she tried to backtrack: “Oh no, no, that’s not the real reason why. I… I’m so sorry, ma’am, for having wasted your time. I’d better go now. I’m really sorry. I’ll let myself out…” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and a large smudge of mascara spread across her cheek. “Oops,” she giggled in humiliation, as she got up and, deliberately avoiding Billy’s gaze, started making her way towards the door.

“Stop right there, Tracy,” commanded the black woman. “I think you might be just the right person for this job. Sit down again, please.”

Tracy paused. “Uh, really?” she replied, puzzled and confused, as she sat. Billy smiled again, walked over to her desk, and opened the top drawer, pulling out a lighter and an unopened packet of Marlboro Lights 100s, which she brought back to Tracy and placed on the coffee table in front of her. “Oh!” exclaimed Tracy “Do you smoke, ma’am?” She gazed longingly at the packet of cigarettes.

“Call me Billy,” was the only reply she received, before Billy continued: “Tracy, please smoke for me.”

“Smoke – sorry – what?” Tracy blurted out, thinking all the time: What kind of fuckin’ weirdo is this – asking me to smoke for her in a job interview? Jesus, now I’ve seen it all. But the sight of a brand-new packet of her favourite smokes sitting on the coffee table next to the virgin ashtray looked so tempting – and if ever Tracy had needed a cigarette, it was now.

“Smoke a cigarette, please,” repeated Billy, gesturing for Tracy to help herself.

Tracy did her best to look as if she wasn’t desperate, slowly unwrapping the cellophane from the cigarette packet, then nervously tapping out one long, beautiful white cigarette, which she held as elegantly as she could between two fingers. Oh fuck – thought Tracy – this looks so fuckin’ good! But she resisted the temptation to rush it. Instead, she gently took the cigarette between her lips, picked up the lighter, and lit up.

It is so hard, when you are desperate for a cigarette, to look as if you are in control of your cravings – but Tracy tried her best, taking a slow shallow inhale like a rookie smoker, exhaling it apologetically away from Billy, then pausing. She felt hardly anything from that drag, and was desperate to take another of her favourite deep multi-pumps, to luxuriate in the sensation of a body flooded with nicotine. But instead she smiled nervously, wondering what would happen now. After a second shallow drag Tracy felt she had to break the silence: “Uh, is there anything else you wanted to ask me, Billy?”

“Yes, Tracy. I want you to smoke that cigarette the way you really want to. You’re pretending to be a light, part-time smoker. But I know you’re really a total addict. I know you’re a smoking whore.”

“What?” Tracy replied, insulted and indignant. “This is ridiculous! I am not going to sit here and be spoken to like that,” she declared, hastily stubbing out the barely-smoked cigarette in the ashtray and getting up once again to leave.

“And I like smoking whores,” continued Billy. “In fact, I like worthless filthy fucking smoking trash cunt whores the best.”

“What the…? How the fuck do you…?” Tracy stammered in her rage, her accent reverting to Essex in an instant. “‘Oo put you up to this? Is this one of Charlie’s stupid pranks? ‘Ave you been spyin’ on me? What perverted disgustin’ game are you playin’ at? What do you fuckin’ want out of me?!”

“Sit down, Tracy! Nobody put me up to this. But I am a detective, after all – so after receiving your application, I did a bit of research, as I always do. So I know how much you love smoking, and I know how much you smoke. And I know you like to sit on your back patio frigging your pussy while you smoke, because your prude of a boyfriend won’t let you do so in the house. And I also know that your last boss barged in on you while you were smoking in the office toilets, with three fingers all the way up your wet cunt. All in all, I think you are just the sort of employee I need, because” – and now Billy reached over, removed two new cigarettes from the packet, placed both between her red-lipsticked lips, lit them together, took a deep drag of one, and handed the other to Tracy – “I am also a filthy fucking smoking cunt whore. But I am not worthless, or trash, and nor are you. In fact, we need each other.”

Tracy sat in stunned silence, watching as the beautiful black woman opposite fixed her with her sultry eyes and took another deep drag of her cigarette, followed by a luxuriant snap-inhale and a thick cone exhale from her lusciously full red lips, right across the coffee table at Tracy. Tracy basked in the smell and sensation of the warm smoke enveloping her body, and she started to drag on her new cigarette, not delicately like the last one (crushed but still gently smouldering in the ashtray), but the way she really wanted to, hard, deep, desperately filling her lungs with that heavenly nicotine-laden smoke, letting it pour out of her nose and mouth, satisfying her craving and enveloping her in that wonderful smoky stink which she loved so much.

Billy smiled, watching with lustful admiration. Tracy held her cigarette to her mouth between trembling thumb and forefinger so she could multi-pump, feeling the nicotine relief wash over her again. Billy smoked with more elegance and less desperation than her interviewee, but with long deep drags, snap-inhaling huge churning balls of white smoke into her open mouth, or breathing the smoke back into her nostrils in rich cascading waterfalls, before directing perfectly-shaped cones of smoke across the room towards Tracy. “Play with your cunt for me, Tracy,” she said.

“What?” Tracy replied, the alarm rising in her voice again.

“If you want this job, Tracy, show me your cunt while you smoke.”

Tracy desperately wanted the job, and having come this far she didn’t want to fuck it up. She also desperately wanted to smoke, and the nicotine high was making her feel horny. She pulled her grey pencil skirt up to her waist and gently pushed her panties to one side to display her pussy. “Beautiful, Tracy,” said Billy. Now stick a finger in there.”

Tracy obeyed, continuing to smoke with her left hand while her right middle finger gently parted her dark cunt-fuzz and slid in between her pussy lips. Billy kept up the instructions: “Nice, Tracy. Now fuck that finger in and out, so I can see it getting sticky. Now take it out and lick it. Beautiful, now how about two fingers? Good girl, now lick your cunt-sauce off again. Good. Now,” continued Billy, “stick that cigarette in there.”

Fuck, even I’ve never thought of that before! thought Tracy to herself, holding her fuck-lips open with the fingers of her right hand while gently sliding the yellowing cork-end of her cigarette into her damp pussy.

“Now lick your cunt cream off that cigarette while you take a deep drag, Tracy.” Tracy did so, relishing the double pleasure of the cunt-flavoured nicotine hit. “Oh fuck, that’s good” she muttered, exhaling a series of irregular puffs as she spoke. She dipped her cigarette into her wet cunt again, licking the glistening slime off with her next drag. “Fuck yeah!” she squealed, then clamped her cigarette between her lips and starting to violently rub her clit, desperate to come, as clouds of warm white smoke churned through her lungs and out of her nostrils and lips. She shut her eyes in concentration, relishing the pleasure which enveloped her from all sides. There was the grind of her fingers against her clit, the warm glow of her cigarette clasped between her lips, the acrid rasp in her throat as smoke poured deep into her from her continuous circular inhaling, the high from the nicotine coursing through her brain, the heady smell and taste of smoke spewing out of her nose and mouth, wave after wave of second-hand smoke exhaled over her by Billy, making her whole being – hair, clothes, body – stink of cigarette fumes, Billy’s on-going jerk-off instructions forming a depraved soundtrack to her ecstasy.

Her eyes still shut with concentration, she soon felt the cigarette grow hotter and softer between her lips, and the tell-tale sensation of hot smoke caressing her cheek and closed eyes. There must be ash all down my suit by now, Tracy mused – but she didn’t care. At last she came, her cunt spasming as that last hot filthy tar-laden lungful of air reached her deepest depths. “FUUUUUCK!” she moaned, gripping the hot glowing cigarette butt between her teeth as a long “fuuuuck!”-shaped cloud of smoke issued from between her lips.

Tracy kept her eyes shut, savouring her own euphoria and breathing in the smoky atmosphere which now filled the whole room. “Was that good, smoking whore?” came Billy’s voice, as Tracy’s orgasm subsided. Tracy opened her eyes. Billy now also had her skirt hitched up and her legs spread, and was gently rubbing her cunt as she took a long last drag of her own red-lipstick-stained butt and stubbed it out in the ashtray, alongside the still-smouldering remains of Tracy’s first unsmoked cigarette.

Tracy nodded, breathless and speechless, as she dropped her cigarette butt into the ashtray. What the fuck have I done? she thought to herself. I’ve been manipulated by a complete stranger into performing acts which I would never have done for anyone else – even my boyfriend – just to get a stupid secretarial job. Have I been liberated? Or abused? And now what?

Billy must have, again, read her mind. “Tracy, I haven’t come yet. Will you help me, please?”

“Uh, help you? What? How?”

“Eat my cunt, of course, smoking whore.”

Tracy froze. She had never done anything like that before – never even imagined anything like that before. She liked to jerk off, and she liked to fuck – but she liked to fuck guys, not girls!

Billy clearly knew what was going through Tracy’s mind. “Eat my cunt, Tracy, and I’ll let you have another cigarette. Lots of cigarettes. And I’ll give you a job where you can smoke all day long. I’ll pay you to smoke all day long. And you won’t be fired for rubbing your cunt at work while you smoke. In fact, I’ll pay you to smoke and fuck me all day long. What about it?”

Tracy felt like she was standing on the edge of a terrifying abyss. What, eat her cunt? No fucking way! She was no lesbian. And what about Charlie, who liked to lick her arsehole and fuck her pussy with his big dick, and make her come again and again and again till she whimpered with pleasure? What about…

But then the image of snarling Charlie came back into her mind: Charlie the control-freak who would fuck her arse but wouldn’t let her smoke, who would jerk his cum over her face but still call her a worthless trash whore. Wordlessly, Tracy got up, removed her skirt and panties, walked slowly around the coffee table, and knelt on the floor in front of Billy’s open thighs.

This was the first time that Tracy had ever looked at a cunt close up – let alone a black woman’s cunt. Billy’s thighs were chocolatey smooth, and her glistening pussy was shaven, her outer lips a rich deep reddish brown. Her inner lips were darker – practically jet-black. At first they looked a bit leathery (A bit like those funny mushrooms you get from the Chinese take-away, Tracy thought to herself: ‘number forty-thlee, pussy with Chinese mushlooms,’ she giggled silently.) But of course, Tracy thought, they can’t really be leathery, any more than my cunt-lips are leathery; otherwise, who’d fuck ‘em? And between Billy’s black, slightly parted pussy-folds, Tracy glimpsed pink. Pink like me… she mused.

Suddenly Tracy wanted nothing more than to be inside that black, pink cunt. She had never licked pussy before, but Charlie loved to eat her out, and so she had a rough idea of how to go about it. She began by leaning forward and gently flicking Billy’s clit with her tongue, and then ran her tongue slowly down her slit and then back up to her clit again. Billy moaned, “Oh yeah, are you going to lick my cunt, Tracy? Go on, eat out my cunt like a good girl.”

Billy’s pussy was, it transpired, not remotely leathery. Her fuck-lips were warm and wet, and gave way easily to Tracy’s probing tongue, slowly revealing more and more glistening pink flesh. As for the taste – well, Tracy had only ever tasted her own. Billy’s was similar, but just distinctive enough – a touch more pungent, perhaps (maybe it was just the time of the month?) – to seem new and exciting. Soon Tracy was done with her speculative taste-test: she plunged in, wrapping her mouth around Billy’s whole fuck-mound, chewing on her clit with her lips and probing deep into her soft flesh with her tongue – driving Billy into foul-mouthed ecstasy: “Oh yeah, eat out that fucking cunt, Tracy. Go on, poke that fucking tongue deep inside there, like a good whore. You like eating your first ever black cunt? You… – mmm…”

There was a pause in Billy’s monologue. Without even looking up, Tracy knew why. She had heard Billy retrieving a new cigarette from the packet as she spoke, and had felt her removing her jacket and top. Now Tracy looked up to see a brand-new Marlboro Lights 100 clamped between Billy’s full red lips, her face framed between two huge black tits, barely contained in Billy’s red lace bra, her wide brown areolae peeping cheekily over the tops of the cups. Tracy opened her mouth with desire, and Billy noticed. “You wanna smoke, pretty slut?” she asked – without removing the unlit cigarette from her lips, which made it jiggle up and down as she spoke. Tracy nodded.

Billy lit her cigarette, took a long deep drag, and exhaled the smoke down between her tits and into Tracy’s lustful face. Then she tapped out the end of another cigarette, and held the packet out to Tracy, who took the cigarette from the packet directly with her desperate lips. Billy lit it, and Tracy began to pump the nicotine-laden smoke deep into her needy lungs again.

Fuck. How do I eat pussy and smoke at the same time? wondered Tracy to herself. But she was not daunted, taking deep individual drags of her cigarette and, after each inhale, plunging her face back into Billy’s crotch to suck and chew her clit, whilst plunging three fingers in and out of her cunt. Smoke sputtered and coursed uncontrolled out of Tracy’s nose and mouth, making it look as if Billy’s cunt was on fire. Tracy was in heaven: her lungs were full of smoke and her face was coated with pussy juice, so everything tasted of a delicious cocktail of smoke and cunt. Now it was Billy’s turn to go hands-free, as she clamped her cigarette between her lips, removed her bra, and kneaded her tits with both hands, moaning in ecstasy and muttering the occasional smoky muffled “oh fuck” or “fuck yeah” around her cigarette.

“I’m gonna come,” muttered Billy soon, “I’m gonna fucking come.” She took a deep double-drag of smoke as she held her cigarette between her fingers, screaming, “Keep chewing that fucking clit, smoking whore! Fill my cunt with all that fucking smoke. I’m gonna come all over your fucking smoking cunt face! FUUUUUUCK!!!” Billy’s cunt spasmed around Tracy’s fingers and tongue, as smoke poured out of her screaming mouth, and the tar-laden smoke from the last drag of Tracy’s cigarette swirled around and off her hot dribbling pussy.

“I wanna come too!” shouted Tracy. “I want you to make me fuckin’ come while I smoke!” Tracy chain-lit another cigarette, sitting on the coffee table with her legs spread and her pretty dark-thatched pink cunt spread wide, demanding that Billy eat her out now. But Billy had other ideas: she walked to her desk and removed from her top drawer a huge, pink strap-on dildo, which she proceeded to fasten around her waist.

“I’m gonna fuck you, Tracy. This black woman’s gonna fuck your tight white girl cunt with her pink dildo.” Tracy started, and almost laughed, at the strange sight of a black woman sporting a pink erection – but she wanted to be fucked. She wanted to fuck and smoke. She wanted to come with a cock inside her – like Charlie hadn’t let her this morning – and even a latex pink cock would do. She stood up and bent over the desk, sticking her arse up in the air so Billy could ram her fake fuck-stick into her hot cunt. And Billy fucked her like a bitch, gripping the dildo with one hand, tweaking Tracy’s tits with the other (just like Charlie, thought Tracy), and smoking hands-free, dangling her cigarette out of the corner of her mouth.

“Fuck me, Billy. Fuck me with that pink dick of yours. Pound it in my cunt whilst I smoke. Fuck me like the filthy fuckin’ smokin’ cunt whore that I am. I wanna come with smoke in my lungs and your cock in my hot fuck-hole!” Tracy put her cigarette back in her mouth, gripping it hard with her lips and smoking hands-free again, so that one hand could tweak her pert nipples while the other reached down to rub her cunt. Soon she was coming, her hand frantically rubbing her clit, her cunt spasming around that fake pink cock, and smoke pouring out of her nose and mouth whilst she squealed a muffled “FUUUUUUCK!!!” through her cigarette-gripping lips.

~

When you like smoking and fucking, having a post-coital cigarette takes on a new meaning. It means more smoking, of course, but smoking as an expression of satisfaction rather than need, contentment rather than desperation, satiety rather than want. It means long slow drags, and time to enjoy the subtler smoking arts. And so Tracy and Billy sat naked opposite each other, enjoying their post-coital smokes. They gently fingered their respective vulvas, not to masturbate as such, but as a gentle cool-down exercise, whilst admiring each other’s beauty. And they played smoke games with each other: blowing perfectly-formed cones of smoke into each other’s faces, comparing the sizes of their respective smoke-rings, performing snaps and French-inhales for each other’s delight. Tracy liked to blow long thin cones of smoke from between nearly-pursed lips, angled slightly downward so that they bounced off the coffee table or the sofa before disintegrating; Billy tended to exhale forward and upward, wide thick lush cones of smoke which filled the atmosphere and hung in great clouds around her. Billy’s smoke-rings were, like her breasts, huge and luscious, and travelled in pairs; Tracy liked to blow nervous batteries of little smoke-rings which shot through the air, piercing Billy’s – like a finger into a cunt, thought Tracy. Tracy’s snap-inhales were fast and snappy (Clue’s in the title, thought Tracy – bitchy snaps: stop-wastin’-time-and-fuck-me-snaps! she giggled); on the other hand Billy’s were slow and sultry: huge balls of rich creamy smoke would hang churning at her full red lips before disappearing into her wide-open mouth and down her throat. Tracy loved to double-pump, doing circular inhaling so that smoke would pour out of her nostrils even as her next drag was sucked into her mouth. By contrast, Billy loved to French-inhale: filling her lungs with smoke and letting it all cascade out and up into her nostrils like a great upside-down waterfall.

Both women liked to talk whilst exhaling, so that the smoke sputtered and puffed out of their mouths as they spoke. “The job is yours, my dear smoking slut,” said Billy in like mode.

“I’ll take it!” replied Tracy, exhaling as she spoke. “When do I start?”

“Just as soon as we’ve sorted out your dickhead of a boyfriend,” replied the boss.

“Sorted out? How do you mean ‘sorted out’?” asked the new employee.

“Well, I have an idea…” Billy grinned.

CHAPTER THREE

Charlie had had a productive day, by his standards. He had finished sequencing another song, and was now sitting at his desk in his study sorting out some sundry paperwork. He was surprised Tracy was wasn’t back yet – it was nearly five o’clock. And after all she had been fired from her last job, hadn’t she? And it was just a job interview this morning, wasn’t it? Oh yes, she’d been in a bad mood first thing, hadn’t she, about her smoking? (Charlie had almost forgotten.) “Girls,” muttered Charlie under his breath, “so irrational and hysterical. If only she’d just take my advice and give up smoking, there’d be no problems, would there?” It briefly crossed Charlie’s mind that he had “had strong words” with her before she left – but “if she has any sense, she’ll get over it, the silly girl.” Besides, she’d promised him an arsefuck with all the trimmings this evening – and it would be very bad form if she didn’t provide.

He heard the front door open and shut downstairs. “Ah, good, at last,” he thought to himself, calling out: “You home, Trace? What about my fuck? I’ve been waiting all day!” There was silence. Charlie thought little of it, and kept working. “Bills, bills, bills…” he muttered, sifting through the papers on his desk.

After a minute, he called again: “Trace?” There was silence. Charlie shrugged, and went back to his paperwork.

A few minutes later, Charlie got up, opened the office door, and called again, “Tracy?”

“I’m in here, babe,” came a sultry voice from the bedroom. “Come and get me.” Charlie peered into the bedroom, and was greeted with the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Tracy was reclining on the bed – but this was Tracy as Charlie had never seen her before. She was wearing black elbow-length gloves and a black latex bra which made her breasts bulge upwards, her nipples just peeping over the tops of the cups. She had crotch-high black latex stockings on, suspended from a black garter belt, and high-heeled black shoes – but her legs were spread wide to reveal her pussy, which was, to Charlie’s amazement, completely shaven. Her fingernails were extended and painted bright red, her lips glistened with thick red lipstick, and written on her skin above her pussy, apparently in the same lipstick, was the word “CUNT” in block capitals. She held her pink lips open with two fingers of one hand and smiled: “Come and get it, babe.”

“Oh fuck!” exclaimed Charlie, his erection rising so fast he had to reach down to release it where it got caught against his jeans. “What’s brought this on, babe?”

“Shut up and fuck me, babe,” Tracy replied, licking her red lips.

Charlie approached, and smelt – no, not a trace of smoke, but the smell of slightly too much perfume, gently leavened by the heavenly scent of slightly damp cunt. Tracy parted her lips slightly, inviting a kiss. Gingerly, Charlie kissed her. “You smell good, babe. No smoke?” Tracy smiled inscrutably. Charlie probed between her lips with his tongue. “You taste good, babe.” He French-kissed her deeply, their tongues tangling deep inside each other’s mouths. “You taste so fucking good. Oh babe, this is wonderful!”

“That’s not the only place I taste good, baby. How about you taste me somewhere else as well?”

Charlie kissed gently down Tracy’s body, pausing on the way to lick her nipples over the top of her bra, and to lick her belly-button, which sported a barbell piercing. Finally he nuzzled her cunt: “Oh fuck, look at this beautiful bald pussy!” he exclaimed, before licking her swollen clit and gently running his tongue up and down her long meaty fuck-lips, teasing her pink flesh open. Soon his face was buried in her pussy, his tongue probing her deep inside, tasting the pungent savour of her deepest fuck-folds, slurping her heavenly juices. “Oh Jesus fucking Christ, baby, you are amazing.” he moaned through his mouthful of wet cunt.

Tracy liked it too. “Yeah, eat my cunt, baby. Chew that fuckin’ clit and make me come. Go on, chew my clit while you fuck me with your fingers.” Charlie did as he was told, probing deep into Tracy’s juicy haven with first one finger, then two. “Curl them back now, baby,” said Tracy, “so you can summon me hither.” Charlie obeyed, and Tracy squealed: “OH FUCK! Yeah, that’s it, babe, stroke that fuckin’ G-spot while you eat me out. That’s just right, baby, that’s how to make me fuckin’ come! Yeah, fuck fuck fuck fuck, rub it faster, babe, I’m gonna fuckin’ – AAAAAARGH!!!” Tracy came hard, her clit jerking under Charlie’s tongue and her cunt spasming around his fingers.

“That was so fuckin’ good, baby,” whimpered Tracy, after she had calmed down. “Now, one good turn deserves another. Lie back and let me suck your big cock.” Charlie did so, as Tracy removed all his clothes, so that he lay flat on his back on the bed, his cock erect, pre-cum dribbling onto his navel. “Now shut your eyes, baby,” she said with a teasing tone in her voice. “I’ve got a surprise for you!”

Charlie obeyed, delighting in his girlfriend’s newly discovered sexual kink. First, Tracy tied a leather blindfold around his eyes. Next, he felt his wrists being cuffed and his arms pulled upwards and outwards towards the corners of the bed.  Next, the same happened to his ankles, so that he was bound from all four limbs and unable to move. “Wow, babe, you are being naughty, aren’t you?” he called out. “You gonna suck my cock now? I’m so fucking horny!”

There was silence.

“Babe? Where are you?”

Silence.

“Babe, what the fuck?” Charlie laughed nervously. “Where are you?”

There was silence.

“Trace?”

And then – the sound of a lighter flicking from near the foot of the bed. And the sudden unmistakeable smell of cigarette smoke.

“Trace, what the fuck? Tracy…?” Charlie smelt a cloud of tobacco smoke blow over him.

“Oh, come on now, Trace. Let’s be serious. We had a good time going. Don’t let’s ruin it with all this smoking nonsense. Come on, put it out, and give me that blowjob like you said, and then we can have a great fuck together. Tracy?” Charlie waited, but in the silence heard nothing more than a pair of lungs exhaling, and then smelt and felt another great cloud of smoke blow in his face. He coughed.

“Tracy, this is ridiculous. Now stop being so fucking stupid. Will you at least talk to me? What the fuck is going on?” But there was no response but silence, and the faint crackle of burning tobacco, followed by the sound of exhaling smoke, followed by yet another smelly, smoky cloud in Charlie’s face.

Charlie was losing patience. “Tracy, I insist you stop this right now. You know I can’t stand smoke. How dare you treat me like this? This is my house, and you know you may not smoke in here. I insist you put that out immediately!” Charlie’s cock had gone completely soft now – and his heart was pounding with rage and humiliation. He struggled against his bonds – but they were tight and unyielding. And there was no response from Tracy but smoky silence.

“TRACY, THAT’S IT! IF THAT’S THE WAY YOU ARE DETERMINED TO TREAT ME, YOU CAN GET THE FUCK OUT OF THIS HOUSE, GO BACK TO YOUR HOPELESS WHITE TRASH FAMILY ON YOUR SINK ESTATE IN BASILDON AND SMOKE TO YOUR FUCKING HEART’S CONTENT. BUT NOT HERE, YOU UNGRATEFUL BITCH! WE ARE THROUGH! UNTIE ME NOW, AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, YOU FILTHY FUCKING CHAV!!!”

There was silence, and yet more smoke continued to billow into Charlie’s face. Now the room was getting smoky – smokier than Charlie had ever had to put up with in his life before. Everything was smelling of smoke – the atmosphere, the bedclothes, his skin. Charlie’s humiliation was complete – and he knew it.

He tried a different tack. “Look, Trace, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I shouted at you, and for calling you names. Please, baby, let’s talk this through, Let’s be nice, hey? Please, just let me loose, and we can talk this through so we’re both happy. I’m sure we can compromise. Please…?” Charlie was getting desperate now, and to his rage and humiliation was added fear. What the fuck was up with Tracy? Had she gone mad? If she could do this to him, what might she do next? Somehow, he had to get free – or God only knew what she would do to him. Charlie’s heart pounded, sweat was pouring off his temples, his breath came in short frantic bursts as his head swam and his limbs began to tingle with hyperventilation. “Tracy…? Please…?”

But there was nothing but silence. And more smoke. Finally the tears started to pour from Charlie’s eyes and down his cheeks. “Trace… baby…” he blubbed, “please… I’m so sorry… please…” Charlie broke down and howled, his spirit completely broken. “I’ll do whatever you want, baby. If you want to smoke in the house, that’s okay. But I can’t stand it when you ignore me. I need you, baby. I’m sorry for all the times I’ve hurt you. Please, please stop this torture.” His sobs were hard and dry – the heart-rending sobs, rarely heard, of a man in terror and desperation. “Please have pity!” he wailed, as more smoke blew into his face, into his mouth, up his nose.

But there was no pity forthcoming from the silent unseen smoker. Instead, Charlie heard a voice say, “Shut the fuck up, Charlie, you pathetic whining dickhead.” Charlie’s body jolted with shock – for it was not Tracy’s voice he heard, but someone else’s. He screamed in terror, and strained desperately, but in vain, against his bonds. His incoherent blubbing was only dampened by a strip of duct tape which was suddenly slapped over his mouth, as yet more smoke was blown mercilessly into his face.

At last, Charlie felt someone untying his blindfold, and when it was pulled off he saw two women looking down at him. One was Tracy, still in her fetish gear, but now with a pack of cigarettes tucked into her garter belt. The other was a slender black woman with large breasts, wearing a white lace basque, stockings and suspenders, and thigh-length white boots. Tracy took a drag of her nearly-finished cigarette, looked into Charlie’s eyes with an unmistakeable expression of contempt, blew a thick cone of smoke in Charlie’s face, and handed her cigarette end to the black woman. She, in turn, lit her own cigarette with it, then lit another cigarette with that which she handed to Tracy. She then dropped the used cigarette butt onto the floor and crushed it into the carpet with her heel. Both women took deep drags of their newly-lit cigarettes and proceed to blow great clouds of smoke straight into Charlie’s face. Charlie tried to shout, to scream, to remonstrate – but no avail: the only sound he could make from under his duct tape gag were stifled groans.

Tracy and the black woman turned to each other and smiled, taking drags from each other’s cigarettes as they crossed arms, then gently blowing smoke into each other’s faces. After their next drag, they playfully licked each other’s extended tongues, letting the smoke sputter out of their mouths and nostrils as they smiled and giggled. After their third drag, they locked mouths, sucking each other’s tongues deep into their mouths, smoke pouring luxuriantly out of their nostrils. After disengaging, they approached Charlie, poking at his soft cock with gloved fingers. “Aw, Trace,” pouted the black woman with a mock sorrowful expression on her face, “dickhead Charlie’s got an itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny wittle cock. Maybe he doesn’t find us attractive, what do you think?” She blew another thick cone of smoke straight at Charlie.

“I can’t think why, Billy,” replied Tracy, letting her smoke sputter out of her mouth and nose naturally as she spoke. “After all, I know he likes watchin’ pretty sluts play with each other. In fact he has a whole stash of DVDs of girls lickin’ pussy, and suckin’ tit, and – get this – he even has a special thing for girls lickin’ arsehole! Wanna see? I know where he keeps them hidden – even though he always thought I didn’t!” Charlie gave a wide-eyed angry moan, trying again to release himself – to no avail. Tracy cackled, then leant over and blew a chain of smoke rings in his face. “Oh,” she added, mockingly, “I almost forgot: I don’t think he likes smoke very much. Maybe that’s why he has such a soft dick.”

“Well, in which case he’s going to have to learn to like smoke, isn’t he, Trace? Otherwise, how are you ever going to fuck a guy with such a pathetically small cock? Maybe if we put on a little show for him, he might come round: what do you think?” Billy took another drag and executed a perfect French inhale, followed by a double-nostril exhale. The atmosphere of the bedroom was now thick with great clouds of smoke. “How about that arsehole-licking you mentioned? That’s sure to do the trick!”

Tracy climbed up and crouched on the bed, spreading her buttocks so that Charlie had a direct view of her tight little chocolate starfish. Removing her gloves, she slobbered spit onto the fingers of her right hand, gripped her cigarette between her lips, steadied herself on the bed with her left hand and slipped the middle finger of her right hand into her tight anus. She felt the gorgeous squelch of her spit-coated finger probing the soft folds of her rectum, and felt her sphincter relax in sympathy, aided by the nicotine coursing through her veins. She took a deep hands-free drag on the cigarette dangling from her lips and slowly withdrew her finger from her arsehole, letting out a long, gentle fart. Billy lay on the bed, positioning herself under Tracy so she could begin to gently lick the white girl’s rosebud, softly encouraging it to relax and spread so that her tongue could probe deeper. “Oh yeah, Billy,” moaned Tracy. “Lick out my shitter with your hot tongue. That’s so fuckin’ good.”

Charlie was transfixed. He loved arsehole, and the sight of Billy’s pink tongue penetrating Tracy’s anal depths overcame any disgust he may have felt at the smoking. He watched as Billy tongue-fucked his girlfriend deeper and deeper, and the maroon depths of her rectum became visible. He felt his cock boning up again – and he wanted nothing more than to slide it into his girlfriend’s tight butt. “Oh look, Billy,” exclaimed Tracy, “I think the dick’s getting hard again. I told you he liked arsehole!”

“But does he like arsehole and smoking? That is the question! Let’s see…” Billy took a deep drag of her cigarette, cupped her lips around Tracy’s arse, and exhaled into her rectum. “Oh fuck, that’s good” exclaimed Tracy, as she felt the smoke billow into her innards. Her arse full of smoke, she tightened her sphincter again and then let out a long, noisy smoke-fart straight into Billy’s open mouth. Billy inhaled deeply, then turned and exhaled the anal smoke straight down into Charlie’s face.

Charlie flinched instinctively, groaning with disgust and anger through his gag of duct tape. He struggled again against his bindings, but still in vain. His cock went soft again. “Oops, oh dear, that didn’t last very long, did it, wittle Charlie baby?” teased Billy with a cruel grin. “Maybe we need to try something a bit more radical to persuade you. What do you think, Tracy the smoking whore? Shall we try Plan B?”

Both girls chain-lit new cigarettes, again crushing their used butts into Charlie’s bedroom carpet. They both crouched on the bed, taking repeated deep drags from their long, pristine white cigarettes, and blowing smoke at Charlie’s soft cock. Charlie couldn’t see, but could feel the clouds of warm smoke billowing across his balls and dick. He felt disgusted, angry and fearful – until he felt something soft and wet: a tongue, gently licking his balls. “Ooh, he is tasty, isn’t he, Trace?” came Billy’s voice from the direction of his crotch, as smoke continued to billow.

“I told you, didn’t I?” came Tracy’s voice. “Here, let me show you his favourite.”

Charlie felt Tracy’s tongue trace a line along the length of his semi-flaccid cock, starting from his balls and ending at the tip of his glans. And then again. Oh fuck – thought Charlie – that is my favourite… His cock began to harden again, as he felt Tracy’s soft wet tongue slobber up and down his length, lingering every now and again at his frenulum to flicker and tease. Soon he was fully stiff, and Tracy’s lips enfolded him, as she ran her tongue round and round his cock-head so that he moaned with pleasure. He could feel Billy still licking his balls and, craning his neck, could see that both girls were still smoking: Billy blowing smoke from her mouth as she cupped her lips around his testicles, and Tracy exhaling from her nose as her warm mouth began to slide up and down his shaft. Whatever, thought Charlie. Smoke or no smoke, this was heaven. Keep doing this, please, he thought.

But the girls had other plans. “We don’t want him to come quite yet, though, do we, Trace?” Billy grinned. “After all, the objective is to persuade him to like smoke…”

“Good point, girl!” said Tracy mischievously. She slid upwards towards Charlie’s face, leaving Billy busily sucking his cock. Blowing a lungful of smoke into his face so as to make him cough and splutter under his tape gag, Tracy sang, “Now, Charlie, let’s be nice about this. I’m going to pull this tape off your face now – no, don’t worry, I’ll be very gentle – but, you see, it’s because I really like you, Charlie, and I’d love to give you a nice big kiss on the lips. Problem is, I’ve been smokin’, see?” Tracy took another deep drag of smoke and blew it into Charlie’s grimacing face. “I know you’d ideally prefer not have smoke in your sweet face while you fuck, but I’m askin’ you to be really tolerant just this once – otherwise Billy here will just have to stop suckin’ your dick. You wouldn’t want that, would you?” Charlie shook his head, as Tracy blew another huge lungful of smoke straight into his face, making him grimace again. “Good. So, when I take the tape off, I want you to stay nice and quiet like a good boy, and let me kiss you while Billy keeps giving you a blowjob. Okay?” Charlie nodded. “Good. Here it goes – ”

Tracy briskly yanked off the strip of duct tape. Charlie screamed in pain. “Now now, Charlie, you promised to be quiet – otherwise no blowjob, remember? Good, that’s better.” Tracy took another deep drag on her cigarette and then began a long slow exhale, at the same time as sticking her tongue deep into Charlie’s mouth in a hot French kiss. Charlie moaned, as a strange mixture of pleasure and disgust overcame him: pleasure at the soft slippery touch of Tracy’s tongue and lips, and at Billy’s throat now fucking up and down his cock like a cunt; and disgust at the filthy, smoky stink of Tracy’s breath.

The pleasure won. Charlie thrust his stiff cock upwards towards Billy, desperate to come in her soft wet slobbery mouth. “Oh look, Tracy, I think he likes it!” squealed Billy. “He’s still hard!”

“Oh good, Billy, I think we’ve convinced him!” Tracy and Billy continued to smoke – Billy exhaling through her nostrils as she mouth-fucked Charlie’s stiff cock, stopping every few seconds to refill her lungs with hot smoke; Tracy kissing Charlie with sluttish passion, blowing smoke into his throat as she did so. Charlie was at first disgusted, grimacing with revulsion at the filthy ashtray smell. But as Tracy blew more and more smoke into his throat, he became accustomed to it – after all, everything now smelt and tasted of smoke. Slowly, as his first-ever experience of low-level second-hand nicotine began to gently suffuse his body, his head began to feel lighter, and his throat drier.

“I think it’s time for a fuck!” suggested Billy, as smoke sputtered out of her mouth and over Charlie’s cock.

“You or me?” asked Tracy.

“Oh, you, definitely! I mean, he is your boyfriend, isn’t he? We want to train him to fuck you when you’re smoking, don’t we? Let’s not add infidelity to his sins,” Billy giggled. “I’ll enjoy watching!” She sat herself down on the armchair in the corner of the bedroom, lifting her legs wide over the arms of the chair so her cunt was on full display and she could play with her glistening pink flesh as she watched. Tracy dangled her rapidly-diminishing cigarette butt between her lips, one eye closed against the smoke, so she could brace herself on the bed with both arms. She slid her body round till she felt Charlie’s hard cock nudging against her slippery pussy-lips, and then, hands-free, slowly lowered her cunt down onto Charlie’s cock and began to fuck him cowgirl.

“Oooooh…” Charlie moaned with pleasure, as he felt the warm, slimy depths of his girlfriend’s fuck-hole swallow him up. “Oh baby, that’s so good!”

“You like fuckin’ my cunt, Charlie?” asked Tracy through a nostril exhale, cigarette end still clasped between her lips, as she slowly slid her wet tunnel up and down on his rock-hard shaft. Charlie nodded in ecstasy. “It would be a shame if I stopped, wouldn’t it?” she mumbled through her dangle, briefly pulling her hips upwards so that Charlie’s cock-head barely nudged against her wet lips, and holding still to deprive him temporarily of the in-out fuck-pleasure she knew he loved so much.

“No!” begged Charlie, “Please don’t stop, baby…”

“Well, the problem is, Charlie, I need another cigarette. I’ll have to stop to light one. Unless, of course, you’d light it for me…?”

Charlie couldn’t think of anything more disgusting or humiliating than being expected to light someone else’s cigarette – but he was desperate to feel Tracy’s hot pussy engulf his cock again – and so he nodded. “Okay, sure – just please fuck me, babe…” he pleaded breathlessly.

Tracy waited, her wet fuck-flaps gently squidging against Charlie’s cock-head, teasing him just enough to keep him hard without giving him the gorgeous deep-cunt feeling he so desperately desired. She reached down, retrieved her pack of cigarettes from her garter belt, flipped the lid one-handed, took out one long, white, beautiful Marlboro Lights 100, and offered it, filter end first, to Charlie’s lips. Horror overcame Charlie as he realised what Tracy was demanding, and he screwed up his lips in distaste. “No, baby,” Tracy muttered, her nearly-spent butt jiggling between her lips as she spoke. “You light it.” As if to emphasise the point, she lifted her pussy just a little higher, so that Charlie’s erection lost contact completely and dropped down onto his belly. Charlie strained against his bonds, desperately trying to fuck his cock upwards into Tracy’s cunt – but to no avail. “You light it, baby,” Tracy repeated, placing the new cigarette between Charlie’s lips and then holding out her smoking butt-end to chain-light it.

Charlie held his breath, determined to avoid having to do anything remotely like smoking himself. But of course, the new cigarette didn’t light. “You have to drag on it, Charlie,” said Tracy firmly. “Otherwise it won’t light, and there’ll be no more fuckin’ for you.”

Charlie relented, gently sucking on the filter end of the cigarette as Tracy held her nearly-spent butt up against the tip. He retched, as smoke began to fill his mouth – but the cigarette lit. Tracy cast the old butt carelessly onto the floor, took the new long cigarette from between Charlie’s lips, clamped it between her own lips, and began to drag on it deeply. The old cigarette butt slowly began to scorch Charlie’s fire-resistant carpet, before burning down to the filter and extinguishing itself. “Good boy!” said Tracy, as she used one hand to retrieve Charlie’s cock, pressing his dickhead against her cunt-flaps, before resuming her deep fucking.

Billy, meanwhile, was watching with rapt attention, smoking and rubbing her clit at the same time. “Hey, Tracy, Charlie’s being quite co-operative now, don’t you think? What about giving him a special reward? I think he’s earned it!”

“Good idea, Billy. And I’ll turn around so you can watch better!” Tracy lifted off again, turning herself around into reverse cowgirl position, so that Billy had an unimpeded view of her sloppy pink gash. She held Charlie’s slimy cock upright with her hand, and then slowly lowered her arse down so that her rosebud, still gaping slightly from Billy’s earlier oral ministrations, gently kissed the tip of his cock.

“Oh fuck, baby, that’s so good!” exclaimed Charlie, as his felt the rim of Tracy’s arsehole gently smooch at his throbbing glans. “Fuck me with that amazing arse of yours, babe!”

“Tell me how much you want it, baby,” replied Tracy cheekily, as she took a deep drag of her cigarette.

“Oh, I want it so much, babe,” replied Charlie unhesitatingly.

Tracy upped the ante: “Tell me you like it if I smoke while fuckin’ you,” she said, before blowing a thick lush cone of smoke towards the ceiling.

“You can smoke anytime you want, babe – just fuck me, please!” Charlie replied in desperation.

“Any time?” Tracy asked.

“Anytime, babe, I don’t mind. You can smoke whenever and wherever you want, and as much as you want. You are the hottest babe in the world. Just fuck me with that arsehole, babe, I love you, I love you so much!”

Tracy laughed in triumph, and then plunged her arse down onto Charlie’s stiff shaft. It hit bottom in one swift movement, his cock-head ramming hard against her rectal walls and his balls slapping against her buttocks – and that gorgeous feeling of her rectum being split in two, the pain of the scrape and the stretch compensated for by the pleasure of being filled up completely, and the filthy joy of displaying her fucked-out cunt to the beautiful black woman across the room.

Billy watched, laughing in pleasure and triumph as her new fuckslut PA smoked her cigarette hands-free, smoke pouring from her nostrils as she rammed her arsehole up and down on her boyfriend’s big cock, supporting herself with one hand while diddling her clit with the other. “Oh fuck yeah, Charlie,” Billy screamed maniacally as she fingered her own cunt, “fuck that hot fucking shithole with your cock! Can you feel her arsehole squeezing your fucking cock? Makes the smoke worth it, doesn’t it, if it makes your whore so fucking horny – hey?”

“Oh, I love you, babe,” repeated Charlie in his mind-blown ecstasy, “I love you so much! Fuck me, fuck me…”

Billy got out of the armchair and crouched down on the bed again. Taking deep drags of her cigarette, she began to eat Tracy’s cunt and suck her clit, smoke pouring from her nose and mouth so it swirled wildly around Tracy’s crotch. Tracy continued to bounce her shitter up and down on Charlie’s dick, until her cunt began to spasm and she cried out, through a mouthful of smoke, “I’m comin’, Charlie! I’m fuckin’ coming!” And come she did, a gentle dribble of juice leaking onto Billy’s face, as the spasms from her cunt sympathetically squeezed Charlie’s cock, still embedded deep in her rectum.

“Oh baby, that’s so fucking sexy,” cried Charlie, “You are so beautiful. I love you so much, babe. Now make me come please, baby!”

Tracy stopped, pulled Charlie’s stiff cock out of her arse, and waited, smirking.

“Babe? Can I come in your arse, babe?” Charlie’s cock was still hard, his purple cock-head throbbing and desperate.

Tracy and Billy both got up and stood next to the bed holding hands, snorting through smoky lungs at the ridiculousness of Charlie’s situation.

“Babe? Or suck me off, babe? Or use your pussy? Whatever you want – I don’t mind!”

Tracy and Billy laughed. “Jerk yourself off, Charlie, you pathetic dickhead,” said Billy, the contempt in her voice undisguised.

“What…?” said Charlie, perplexed. “Will you untie me, Tracy – babe? Then we can have a proper fuck. And you can smoke all you like,” he added, generously.

“I’ve changed my mind,” said Tracy coolly, cackling as she blew a thick cone of smoke into Charlie’s face.

“What do you mean, babe?” said Charlie, his concern rising.

Tracy didn’t respond, but walked to the corner of the room, retrieved her cellphone from her handbag, clamped her cigarette between her lips, and began to dial a number.

“What are you doing, Tracy? What’s going on?” Charlie’s voice rose in pitch as his bewilderment continued to grow, and his cock began to shrink.

Tracy didn’t answer him, but spoke into the phone, putting on her best upper middle-class voice: “Oh, hello, Jane – it’s Teresa here!” At the mention of the name, Charlie emitted a muffled scream of horror – muffled only because he dared not speak louder for fear of being overheard by “Jane”.

Tracy continued: “Oh, I’m very well, thank you! How are you? And how’s Alastair?” She smiled wickedly. “So sorry to bother you, Jane, but – I’m at work now, and I’ve just received a call from Charles on his mobile, and he’s managed to get himself stuck in the bathroom – you know, we had that dodgy lock on the door? Well, it’s seems to have given up entirely, and now he’s locked in! He only had enough charge on his phone to make one call – lucky he had it with him! – so he asked me to ring you, since you’re only ten minutes away, to ask if you or Alastair could pop around and rescue him…”

Charlie was writhing in terror on the bed. Unable to move because of his bonds, and unable to shout lest he be heard by Jane and Alastair, he flailed and squirmed and silently mouthed “No! No! NOOOO!” as Tracy continued to chat with his mother – whilst Billy was doubled over with silent laughter.

“No, I don’t think you’ll need any tools; you just need to jiggle the catch from the outside… You’ll be there in ten minutes? Oh good – thanks so much, Jane… Yes, I am so sorry: I promise we will get the Polish chap in to fix it a.s.a.p… No, I wouldn’t try and ring Charles because, as I say, he hasn’t got any charge left on his phone… But you have keys to let yourselves in, don’t you? … Yes, upstairs in the bathroom… Lovely – thanks so much, Jane. Byeeeeee!”

Tracy hung up. And Charlie screamed. “WHAT THE FUCK! HOW DARE YOU! MY PARENTS, MY FUCKING PARENTS – YOU’VE ASKED THEM TO COME HERE, NOW?! WHAT ARE THEY GOING TO SAY TO US IF THEY FIND THE HOUSE REEKING OF SMOKE?!”

“Oh, they won’t say anyfink to us, Charlie,” Tracy smirked. “Because they won’t find us. Only you. We’re off now. Byeeeee!” Tracy and Billy giggled to each other, dropped their cigarette butts on the floor and ground them mercilessly into Charlie’s bedroom carpet with their heels. They turned and walked smartly out of the bedroom and down the stairs to the front door, pulling their coats on over their fetish gear.

“YOU FUCKING CUNT! GET BACK HERE AT ONCE! DON’T YOU DARE DO THIS TO ME! WHAT WILL MY PARENTS SAY?! TRACY, NO! TRACYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!

Tracy and Billy shut the front door behind them, blocking the sound from Charlie’s desperate screaming. They smirked, lit new cigarettes, hopped into Tracy’s car, and drove away, laughing uproariously.

“You sure he won’t come after you?” asked Billy, through her smoky giggles.

“No way,” replied Tracy. “Imagine the humiliation, explainin’ to a police officer why his mum and dad found him stark naked, tied to his bed, smelling of cunt, in a smoky room with cigarette butts all over the fuckin’ floor. He won’t dare. He’ll just crawl back into his hole and curse me.”

“So… you’re free!” said Billy, exhaling luxuriantly out of the window.

Tracy gripped her cigarette between her lips and took a hands-free drag, as she changed gear and turned a corner. “Yep,” she said, as her cigarette jiggled between her lips, “and I’m yours now!” she continued, exhaling through her nostrils. “Whatcha gonna to do with me…?”

“I have some ideas…” Billy grinned.

 (c) GrushaVashnadze 2021. All rights reserved.