Levi’s Twisted Little Confession

He called already dressed. I could hear it in his voice before he admitted it. Soft. Careful. Like the panties were doing half the talking for him. I told him to light the cigarette first. Not after. Not when he felt ready. Now. That is how this kind of Smoking Fetish call works with me. Smoke first. Story second. Permission last.

I heard the click. The inhale. The little shake in his breath when he held it too long. Good. I told him to keep the cigarette between his fingers like a girl, wrist soft, ash over the tray. If he dropped it, he was putting it out on his own thigh and thanking me. He didn’t drop it. He wanted the story too badly.

I was on my back in the dark with my own cigarette burning in the tray beside me, lipstick already smeared from earlier. I told him the truth. I had two of them that night. Both Black. Both thick enough that my mouth watered before either one touched me. I had smoke still sitting in my lungs when the first cock landed on my bottom lip. Heavy. Hot. Shiny. I didn’t take it yet. I just let it rest there so he could picture it.

“Stay stroking over the panties,” I told him. “No skin. You get smoke and my voice. That is all.” Then I took a drag on the line and talked through it. How the head of that cock looked against my mouth. How I licked once, slow, and let the smoke roll over it before I opened wider. He made a sound I liked. Needy. Embarrassed. Hard in silk.

I sucked the first one while the cigarette burned down. I like that mix. Ash and spit and the taste of a man who does not ask if I can take it. I took it. Deep. Messy. Looking up with black liner already running a little because I wanted it that way. The second one stood close enough that I could feel the heat of him on my cheek. I pulled off, dragged again, and blew the smoke up the shaft before I put my mouth back where it belonged.

That is the part my dressed-up little caller came for. Not just the fucking. The picture. My goth-girl mouth. A thick black cock laid across it. Smoke curling up my face. I made him open his mouth on the phone and take the next exhale like I was right there feeding it to him. “Hold it,” I said. “Don’t cough. Swallow it like you swallow everything else I give you.”

They put me on my knees between them after that. One in my throat. One in my hand. I kept the cigarette close enough to grab between turns. I like pausing with spit on my chin and smoke in my mouth. It makes the next suck filthier. I told my caller every wet sound. How wide I had to open. How the second cock twitched when I moaned around the first. He was panting into the phone, still not allowed under the panties, still smoking when I told him to.

When they finally fucked me, I stayed on my back with my legs up so I could keep talking. The first one pushed in slow enough that I felt every inch. I took a drag over his shoulder and blew it toward the phone, toward the boy in panties who was listening like it was happening in his own room. “That is what a real cock feels like,” I said. “You don’t get this. You get the smoke I have left over.”

He asked if he could touch skin. I said no. I told him to take another drag instead. Then I described the stretch. The way my pussy took that thick black cock to the hilt. The way I laughed when the second one put himself back on my lips while I was getting fucked. Smoke. Cock. Cock. That was the whole night in three words. I came on the first one with the second still shining against my mouth.

They switched without asking. I like that. I was already wet enough that the second one slid in easier, but he was thicker in a different way and it knocked the brat right out of my voice for a second. I grabbed the cigarette again just to have something to do with my hand besides clawing the sheets. I smoked, then leaned up and kissed the first one with that taste still in my mouth. Then I turned my face toward the phone and told my caller to open.

I blew the leftover smoke into him in my mind. Slow. Mean. Intimate. Like a kiss he had not earned. “That is him on my tongue,” I whispered. “And now it is in your mouth. Stay in those panties and be grateful.” He thanked me in that soft girl voice I had made him use. That did more for me than I expected. I like a man who will dress pretty and take my smoke while I tell him how I just got ruined.

They finished in me. One after the other. I made sure my caller heard that part clearly. No fading out. No polite ending. I told him I walked to the bathroom after with it