Hello, naughty ones. As a divorced woman, I’ve experienced my share of romance, heartache, and everything in between. However, nothing prepared me for the unique dynamics of a sexy little smoke show with Claude. I never thought that my occasional habit of lighting up a cigarette would become a focal point in our relationship. But life has a way of surprising us, doesn’t it?
Our story began in the most unassuming way. We met at a mutual friend’s party and soon found ourselves in a quiet corner, getting to know each other better. It was during this conversation that I casually mentioned my occasional smoking habit while I indulged. And I could sense an immediate shift in his demeanor because his eyes lit up as soon as I did.
He explained how the sight of a woman smoking, the way she held a cigarette, the way she exhaled smoke, was incredibly arousing for him. And to say I was puzzled by his confession would be an understatement. Granted, I’d heard of various fetishes, but this was new territory for me. Nevertheless, Claude’s honesty and the respectful way he approached the topic intrigued me.
I explained to him that I am an occasional smoker, mostly enjoying a cigarette during social gatherings or when I’m particularly stressed. It’s never been a significant part of my identity. However, Claude found something so mundane in my life extraordinarily sensual. And his appreciation for this occasional habit of mine made me curious, flattered, and, I must admit, a little aroused. So we began to explore his fetish together, taking baby steps before engaging in the aforementioned sexy little smoke show.
But Claude was patient and never pushed me beyond my comfort zone. Our initial experiments were simple. I would smoke a cigarette while we talked or watched a movie. And I noticed the way his eyes would follow the trail of smoke, how his breath seemed to quicken with each puff I took. It was a powerful feeling, knowing that something so ordinary for me could elicit such a strong reaction from him.
One night, Claude revealed another layer of his fetish. He told me how much he admired the iconic style of Marlene Dietrich, particularly her ability to exude both femininity and masculinity in her drag performances. I told him that I also admired Dietrich’s style and charisma. And that conversation was the inspiration behind our sexy little smoke show.
I went all out for our special night, putting on a tailored tuxedo, complete with a crisp white shirt, a bow tie, and high heels. I even donned a top hat, channeling Dietrich’s glamorous androgyny. As I applied my makeup, I added a touch of bold red lipstick and smoky eye shadow to complete the look.
The moment Claude saw me, his eyes widened in delight and desire. We shared a slow, lingering kiss before I lit a cigarette, letting the smoke curl around my fingers as I brought it to my lips. The way he watched me, completely enraptured, was such a turn-on for me. So I decided to turn up the heat on our sexy little smoke show. I leaned back in my chair with the cigarette poised delicately between my fingers and looked at him with a playful smile.
He quickly complied as I took a slow drag from my cigarette and let the smoke curl around me as I exhaled. Then I opened my tuxedo jacket, revealing a lace bra beneath. And I began to toy with my breasts, pinching and caressing my nipples through the delicate fabric, while Claude moaned softly and stroked his cock.
I could see the struggle in his eyes – the effort to maintain control as I continued to tease him. “Do you think you can last as long as my cigarette?”
He moaned louder and began to stroke his cock a little faster. I took another drag, my eyes never leaving his, and blew the smoke in his direction. The sight of him, so lost in his desire, fueled my own arousal. And I continued to play with my breasts, letting my fingers slip beneath the lace to pinch my nipples directly, which sent jolts of pleasure through my body.
Claude’s face contorted with the effort to hold back. Finally, just as I took the final drag from my cigarette, he cried out and convulsed. I watched him succumb to a powerful orgasm with a satisfied smile playing on my lips. Then I stood up, walked over to him, gave him a deep, passionate kiss, and exhaled the remaining smoke into his mouth as a final, intimate act of our sexy little smoke show.
Now, as I reflect on that part of my journey, I realize how much it has shaped me. It pushed me out of my comfort zone and opened my eyes to new possibilities. And for that – and Claude – I am forever grateful.
Call me for more.
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