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One lazy Sunday afternoon, I was tangled together with my boyfriend David on his bed. Looking back at this exploratory time in my life, you could say we were perfect for each other. We were both nineteen, a young, shy, and timid couple, and geeky.

David was studying IT. He was tall and skinny with short blonde hair and blue eyes. He wore glasses for reading and he was my first ever boyfriend. I, Robynne, a quiet brunette with long, straight hair and hazel-green eyes, was a sociology student.

With David’s parents out of the house, we naturally started making out on his bed. Lips locked, our tongues entwined, sighing softly, his hands moved gently over my shoulders, his touch light, his direction intentional. Reaching the front of my white, casual blouse, he wasted no time in unbuttoning it.

“Take it off, I want to see you,” he whispered softly, exposing my bra and cleavage.

“But we can’t have sex. I’m on my period,” I reminded him, sitting up to remove my blouse and bra.

“I know, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun,” he smiled knowingly, his blue eyes sparkling with anticipation as I stretched behind my back. “I love your tits,” he groaned.

My pale breasts, a perky C cup, spilled free, exposing my upper body to him. David reached for the right one first, cupping it tentatively, his thumb rubbing my pink nipple until it hardened under his touch, sending tingles through me. He then cupped my left breast, his hand soft and warm.

Being caressed like that always aroused me, but I preferred to be kissing at the same time, so I stroked a hand down the side of his face and leaned forward. For the next few minutes, our lips remained locked while David kneaded my soft flesh and erect teats.

Just as he was my first boyfriend, I was his first girlfriend. Together for six months, intimate for four, I secretly revelled in how much he loved my body, how he couldn’t keep his hands off me. But my reserved nature and lack of experience with guys, meant I could be shy and prudish about it.

David then gently pushed me back slightly, and closed his lips around a sensitive nipple, sucking affectionately before switching to the other one. Back and forth, he took his time to suckle and caress. All the while, a noticeable bulge, one I knew I’d be expected to resolve grew in the front of his jeans.

But first, I enjoyed having his warm, moist mouth alternating between my breasts. Leaning back on an extended arm, I tangled my fingers in his blonde hair with my free hand, holding him close as his lips sucked a little harder, his tongue exploring at will.

“Your tits a perfect,” he sighed, eventually pulling away, leaving my nipples glistening with his saliva, a common experience lately.

“I’m glad you like them,” I giggled. “I guess you want me to take care of that thing for you now?” I eyed his crotch with a grin.

David chuckled. standing up to unbuckle his belt. I reached for one of his pillows and dropped it on the floor to kneel on. As he pushed his jeans and boxers down to his ankles, I slipped off the mattress and knelt topless beside the bed. He sat down excitedly, stroking as I prepared to blow him.

My boyfriend had a lovely cock. It was often hard and raring to go, which could be annoying at times. But I did like holding it in my hand, feeling him throbbing in need. It was smooth and taut, around six inches, with a nest of blonde curls at the base.

But I wasn’t a fan of giving blowjobs. I felt I was still learning, despite reading advice on how to give the ‘perfect blowjob’ in girly magazines. I didn’t mind putting it in my mouth, I just wasn’t confident about what to do with it once it was in there, and David just groaned, never giving me any pointers.

I was still getting used to the taste of his sperm too, and don’t even get me started on that first jet. But I was getting better at preparing myself for it. David didn’t care that I wouldn’t swallow. As long as he got to finish his orgasm in my mouth, he was more than happy, so I’d wait until he’d finished before spitting is cum into a glass or a sink.

Although I preferred to give him a handjob whenever he needed one, what I did enjoy about giving a blowjob, was the power I felt it gave me. David was always excited to receive head, and I didn’t like denying him the pleasure he desperately craved from me. After all, I was his lovely girlfriend.

“Can you try and look up into my eyes this time?” he asked breathlessly. “I love your eyes. I want to see them as you suck me off.”

Not the most romantic choice of words he could have used, but it didn’t stop me from nodding and curling my fingers around his shaft, stroking it up and down. I leaned forward and swirled my soft tongue around his throbbing head a few times, tasting his pre-cum as I looked up into his eyes.

“Oh yeah,” he groaned, stroking my long, brown hair down the back of my head.

As our eyes locked, I felt both aroused and embarrassed. But wanting to please him, I kept moving my ataşehir escort tongue and hand in unison.

“Oh, that feels so good,” he groaned again, but I sensed something was different.

David had a look in his eyes that I hadn’t noticed before. I saw flickers of dominance and fear as his breathing increased. I didn’t question it or think about it too much, I just kept my eyes looking up and my mouth closed around him, sliding my lips up and down his cock, driving him crazy with lust.

“You look so hot sucking my dick,” he murmured. “What do you think about smoking, Robynne? Have you tried it with Tara before?” David asked out of nowhere.

Tara was my twenty-one-year old sister, and the polar opposite of me. We looked similar in terms of our facial and bodily features, but nothing else, not even the way we dressed. Tara had a rebellious streak, so rebellious, she started smoking at sixteen.

I pulled back, perplexed. “Smoking? What do you mean?” I laughed. It was such a strange question to ask during a blowjob.

David blushed beetroot, his eyes full with fear now. “Have you ever thought about trying it?” he asked, his voice croaking.

“No, never,” I replied, letting go of his cock. “Why are you asking me that now?”

“I know it sounds weird, but I think you’d look so hot smoking a cigarette,” he admitted.

“What the?” I sat back on my heels in shock, the sudden movement causing my breasts to jiggle before they rested firm again.

“I don’t mean actually smoking,” he flustered, quickly reaching under his pillow.

“David! What the hell is going on!” I exclaimed at the packet of cigarettes he was now holding.

“Just humour me,” he chuckled, a chuckle of embarrassment. His face was burning up.

“Humour you?” I gasped, the situation getting worse by the second.

I watched as he pulled a long, slim, pure white cigarette from the packet and looked down into my eyes, his hand trembling as he held the stupid thing out for me, as if I was supposed to accept it or something. I shook my head in defiance. “I’m not smoking it.”

“Just hold it while you give me a blowjob. You’re not going to light it. Please, Robynne. Just pretend you’re smoking until I cum,” he pleaded.

“And that turns you on?” I asked disgustedly, scowling at the cigarette. I had to admit, his cock was harder than ever and still waiting.

“I can’t explain it right now, but please, please do this for me. The thought of you smoking and sucking me off turns me on.”

Caught between my concerns and my boyfriends strange desires, I sighed and took the cigarette from him. I had held one before, mimicking with one of my sisters Marlboro Gold’s. Tara’s had cork filters, this one was all-white, but both were disgusting.

Holding it between my fingers, I now had to pretend I knew how to smoke and give good head. The situation felt alien to me as I took hold of David’s cock again, and brought the cigarette up to my lips. Awkwardly, I took a shallow drag, inhaled fresh air with a hint of tobacco taste, and then exhaled.

“That’s it,” my boyfriend grinned. “Now, do both together.”

The combination of pretending to smoke with a real unlit cigarette in one hand, and an excited cock in the other, felt very surreal. It was like playing a role in a movie I hadn’t auditioned for, and I started giggling. It made me feel that silly doing it.

But then I sensed David was beginning to get annoyed with me, so I took it seriously, giving him a ‘smoky’ blowjob. I began to coordinate the two, taking deeper drags, acting like my sister did when she lit up, before exhaling at his cock and sucking it.

David gripped my hair with one hand and groped my breasts with the other, a new development in the way he handled me during anything we did sexually. I kind of did and didn’t like it as he thrust his hips towards my face and pulled on my hair.

“Smoking would suit you,” he groaned. “Fuck, you’d look even hotter as a smoker.”

Forgetting the cigarette, just holding the thin cylindrical object between my fingers, I bobbed my head up and down in David’s lap, almost gagging on his cock for the first time. I didn’t know what to make of it. He was hornier than I’d ever seen him before.

“Faster, Robynne,” he urged, unrecognisable. “Now take a drag.” I paused to pull on the cigarette, my cheeks hollowing. “Now suck it again.” His breath was ragged and his words were hoarse. “I’m close. Oh fuck! I’m gonna cum!”

As soon as he’d warned me, his sperm shot into my mouth before I could prepare myself for it. I pulled back in shock, startled. But David grabbed his cock and started pumping the rest onto my face and chest. I shrieked and threw the cigarette down, cursing him.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasped, finally finishing. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t hold back. That was so hot.”

I glanced into his bedroom mirror. “You absolute bastard! Look at the state of me!” I had cum on my face, neck, and breasts. It felt gross on my face, sliding down. “Don’t just sit there! Get me something to wipe it off with!” I shouted but then laughed.

David was genuinely sorry. He grabbed me a towel and couldn’t stop apologising. I told him that if he ever did that again, I’d never give him another blowjob. He said he was expecting to cum in my mouth when I panicked and moved away. I glared at him.

After I’d cleaned up and threw the smelly towel at him, I put my bra and blouse back on, grilling him on the whole smoking thing. Post-orgasm, he swore blind to me that he didn’t really want me to smoke. I wasn’t convinced until I’d dragged it out of him.

I learned that day that my boyfriend had something called a smoking fetish, but he once again swore blind that he didn’t fancy my sister. David very reluctantly confessed to being aroused by attractive women smoking, the ritual of it, he confessed.

Stunned, I didn’t know what to say once I realised he was being honest with me. What did this mean for our relationship? He was turned on by smoking, but I hated it. How could anyone get turned on by smoking was a mystery to me. It was an awful habit.

However, I loved David and accepted it was something I’d have to try and navigate. But when I didn’t run away or ridicule him for it, he took it as a green light to push his fetish onto me. I refused to light up and try it, but I did start pretending to smoke during sex.

Two months later, having indulged him on several occasions, I found a few smoking fetish videos on his laptop. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say. My boyfriend needed something I couldn’t give him. But I loved him too much to walk away.

Instead, I turned to the one and only person I believed I could talk to about my dilemma. Taking a deep breath, I knocked on my sister’s attic bedroom door, and entered when she told me to. Tara was lounging on her bed, propped up against her pillows.

“Hey, Robynne. What’s up?” Her eyes narrowed slightly as she took a drag from her cigarette.

Despite the two velux windows being fully open, Tara’s bedroom was hazy with smoke. I coughed, breathing in the thick, cloudy air.

“Um… I just wanted to talk to you about something,” I replied, waving the smoke away from my face.

Tara exhaled a thick plume towards the open window then stubbed her cigarette in the ashtray beside her. “Is everything ok? You look like you have something serious on your mind. Is David treating you right?”

As my sister climbed off her bed, clad in a pair of tight shorts and a t-shirt, placing the dirty ashtray on her bedside table, I closed her bedroom door and started fidgeting with my hands. How do I say it? I was thinking. How do I ask her about smoking?

“Um… yeah… everything’s fine. I um… just wanted to ask you about… about smoking,” I said, trembling like an idiot.

Tara picked up a hair bobble, smirking curiously at me as she tied her own long, brown hair into a ponytail. “Smoking? Sit down, because this I just have to hear.”

We sat down together on the side of her bed, our combined weight sinking into the mattress. I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment for what I was about to say. I didn’t even know what I was going to say, exactly. I just knew it was going to be about smoking.

“It’s not for me,” I began with a lie. “It’s just… someone I know is into it, and I um… I want to understand it better. You know?”

My sister laughed then quickly apologised, placing her hand over mine. “Oh, Robynne, you’re such a terrible liar. It involves David, doesn’t it?” Tara always could see the truth.

I nodded sheepishly, guilty as sin. “How did you know?”

“Because you’re acting the same way you did when you came up here asking me about sex,” she said, her voice soft and supportive. “So what’s the deal?”

“Um… he um… David says he has a thing for it,” I answered awkwardly.

“Oh,” Tara responded. “I met a guy like that once. Has David asked you to smoke for him? To give him a smoky blowjob?”

“Kind of,” I said, squirming uncomfortably. “He does say I’d look hot as a smoker,” I sighed. “We um… we have been role playing with an unlit cigarette.”

“He bought a packet of cigarettes for you?” Tara’s hazel eyes deepened.

“Yeah, Vogue or something like that. They are longer and slimmer than yours. What do I do?” I sighed once more, feeling like I was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“I don’t know.” My sister shrugged. “What do you want to do, Robynne? Indulge him with the real thing? I’m guessing you came to me because you’re curious to try it.”

“Maybe,” I murmured, looking down at her bedroom floor. “Is it weird?” I asked, looking back up at her again. “I mean…”

“It’s not weird,” Tara smiled kindly. “It’s kinky, and most guys wouldn’t admit to having a smoking fetish, but David obviously trusts and loves you enough to share it with you.”

“I suppose,” I mused, rubbing my foot along the laminated floor.

“Do you want to try it?” she asked, brushing my hair behind my shoulder. “I promise you won’t like it, but I can teach you until you do. If you really want to indulge David, that is.”

“But I don’t want to become addicted to nicotine, like you are, no offence,” I said.

“None taken,” Tara smiled. “But that’s the risk you take when you experiment with anything pleasurable, and smoking is exactly that, once you get the hang of it.”

“Is it possible to just do it… you know… with David sometimes?” I felt stupid for asking.

Tara laughed lightly. “That depends on the individual, how strong minded they are.”

“What do you think I should do?” I asked her directly.

“It seems to me that you’ve already made your mind up. I say try it. If you hate it, you can carry on roleplaying,” she reasoned.

“And if I enjoy it?” I looked at her bleakly.

“Then David will have a hot smoking girlfriend.” Tara burst out laughing.

“I’m being serious!” I exclaimed playfully.

“So am I.”

I watched half nervous and half excited, as my sister reached for her pack of Marlboro Gold. She took two out and handed one to me. I couldn’t believe we were about to do this. I wasn’t sure if I was actually going to be able to do it. Smoke? I shivered all over.

“Are you ready to learn, little sister?” Tara smirked.

“Yes, big sister,” I said sarcastically, smiling as I rolled my eyes at her.

“Ok then, let’s do this,” Tara said excitedly. “First things first, how to hold a cigarette properly. It says a lot about what type of smoker you are. You want to look natural.”

Having had lots of practice recently, and having sub-consciously remembered all the times I’d watched her smoking, I wasn’t far off the mark, holding the cork filtered cigarette between the middle and index fingers of my right hand. Tara approved.

“Good. Now show me how you take a drag when you’re role playing with David.”

I tried to show her how I did it, but I couldn’t stop giggling. I managed it eventually, then spent a few minutes pulling fresh air through the filter, until Tara felt I was ready to light up for the first time in my life. She told me to watch her, which she obviously did effortlessly. I felt a little jealous.

“Now, when you light the end, take a shallow drag and try to keep the smoke inside your mouth. Don’t inhale, you’ll only cough your lungs up,” she explained. “Let the smoke cool in your mouth and then just blow it out, got it?”

“Yes,” I nodded, taking a deep breath before I placed the cigarette between my lips.

With shaky hands, I clicked the lighter and positioned the bright, yellow flame at the tip, my cheeks hollowing slightly as I took a shallow drag. It was warm and disgusting, and I did cough on the first two attempts, but then I managed to draw the smoke into my mouth and hold it there, just as my sister had instructed me to do.

“Good. Now blow it out as relaxed as you can,” she encouraged, before taking a deep drag from her own cigarette.

It felt kind of cool, smoking with my sister, smoke curling around us like a forbidden dance. I did secretly judge her for being a smoker, but now I was becoming awed at the way she smoked so easily. If I could smoke like her, then David would be impressed. No way was I going to become a smoker though, just sometimes, if I could get the hang of it.

A few minutes later, I’d ‘smoked’ my first cigarette. Technically I hadn’t because I didn’t inhale, but I did draw it down to the logo with my lips. The taste was awful. I had to brush my teeth several times and chew gum incessantly before I felt normal again.

“You did well, Robynne,” Tara smiled as we stubbed our cigarettes in the ashtray. “Come back later and I’ll teach you how to inhale.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said. “Thanks, Tara, but right now I need to get rid of this disgusting taste in my mouth.” We laughed.

Two hours later, I did return to the misty attic bedroom again. Although Tara and I weren’t the closest of sisters, due to our difference in personalities, we were still close. But as she taught me how to smoke, how to inhale and exhale, we grew closer.

The next day, I came home from a day of intense lectures, to find Tara waiting for me. She held up a packet of vogue cigarettes, the exact ones that David kept in his bedroom. She asked if I was ready to try one, suggesting there was a reason why my boyfriend had chosen that specific brand.

Up in her bedroom, the smoking room as I came to call it, we both lit a long, slim, vogue cigarette, comparing it to Tara’s slightly thicker and shorter Marlboro’s. The taste was still harsh and yet to agree with me, and I was still trying to figure out how best to hold it, but I could inhale short drags now.

“Do you know why he chose this brand and style of cigarette?” my sister asked, tapping the end of her cigarette over the ashtray.

“No, he never said,” I replied, then took a drag, trying to look badass beside Tara.

“This type of cigarette and brand was invented purely to attract women to smoke them,” she said. “They are considered feminine cigarettes for a sophisticated lady.”

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