Presented with a beautiful day, Lana thought of walking to the beach. Sitting at the small breakfast table her roommate Nick bought at a garage sale last Wednesday, she took a final pull on the short of her cigarette, and then gently touched it to another.
Lana always had a very feminine way of smoking, even when she lived as a man. Now, Lana’s full lips, shiny with gloss, wrapped around the cork in a way that was unmistakably ladylike. Each long drag from the cigarette, as she was sitting at the table that morning, had her fantasizing about being in a grand hotel bar, living as a high-dollar prostitute. Through the years, she’d daydreamed over and over – about a strong man showing up in that lobby – to take her away.
Lana grew up in a small North Dakota town. Population: six hundred.
When Lana was a young Leonard T. Pinch, her father gave her the name chi-chi because she was so beautiful. Why would a father give his son such a nickname, if not for the fact that his father could see a daughter inside his son? Gerald Pinch, although a rugged man himself, didn’t impose masculinity on his son.
During that time, young Lana lived in a three bedroom house with her parents and two sisters. Upstairs, the parents had their bedroom, with the sisters sharing a bedroom across the hall. Lana had the downstairs bedroom at the opposite end of the house.
At night, Lana would patiently wait until she was sure the rest of the house was asleep – and then sneak to the living room to secretly watch Young Lady Chatterley. She’d sit close to the television with the volume almost on mute. At the first creak of the floor coming from the upstairs, Lana would turn off the set and go running to her room, only to return when things fell quiet again.
Now twenty-eight, she could freely live out her dreams. She certainly had the looks to do it. At five foot, three inches tall – one hundred and five pounds, she was near perfection. Lana’s legs were long and firm, rising up to full hips and a narrow waist. A thin blue crystal chain circled her waist, finding its way through the ring in her belly button. Her breasts, though not original, pushed out nicely from her chest in a way that completed her look.
On this day, Lana’s cock was resting comfortably inside an orange bikini bottom. Her tits, in a small matching top. Sitting in the kitchen, she found herself becoming sexually excited about the future. In the stillness of the kitchen, a sensation of something moving through her urethra caught her attention. Precum had entered her root.
Allowing her newly lit cigarette to dangle in her lips, she pulled the front of her bikini bottom aside, bringing her clitty into view. Even when flaccid, Lana’s tool was honestly too much for a bikini. She was well aware of this, and in most company, Lana wore a shawl when in beach attire. She had tried to tuck her phallus, and quickly found she couldn’t walk very far in comfort.
Then, there was the time over at Jerry’s Funnel Cakes on the boardwalk. She thought it was still tucked, only to have an old man holding an ice cream cone, point out that her bulbous knob was free of it’s tether. She was having so much fun, she didn’t notice. After that, waist-wraps would save the day.
Another feeling of precum moving.
With her thumb and forefinger, both adorned with pink bejeweled fingernails, Lana pinched the base of her root, forcing the fresh precum to her pisshole. She pointed her cock up toward her face, only to see a perfect clear bead emerge.
Holding her cock vertical, while trying not to break the bead of nectar, Lana slowly removed the cigarette from her pouty lips. She lowered the filter down to the precum pooling in her pisshole and soaked the filter. She swirled it around and around, almost amazed that her own body could add such joy to her smoking. In that moment, at that thought, Lana felt empowered.
A long string of viscous fluid followed the cigarette nearly back to her waiting lips, only to break just above her breasts. As the ambrosia coated filter entered her mouth, Lana felt her cock fully exiting the bikini, leaving only a narrow pinched string to the side of a giant throbbing fuckstick. Lana took a long sexy drag, spreading her fingers wide. She snapped the inhale and held it – in complete satisfaction. She’d always noticed, even in herself, that sexually aroused women smoke very in a different way. Lana exhaled.
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Tonight’s offering. Please comment and follow.
Best – Lawrence
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/n098v0/smoke_and_ambrosia