Smokin' Hot Sex, Too

by Gary Jordan

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Consensual, Romantic, Oral Sex, Masturbation, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Shon and Alexis made a point, and maybe there is a story...

Subj: Re: A sex story YOU have to write! Date: 1/22/02 12:36:18 AM Eastern Standard Time From: Alexis in Alaska To: PJcocoa In a message dated 1/22/02 12:31:29 AM Eastern Standard Time, PJcocoa writes: >Dear Alexis, > >I've told you all about how PJ and I tried to quit smoking by >only having a cigarette after an orgasm. How, outside of a >humorous anecdote, the experience was a complete flop with regard >to curing the nicotine habit. I even said that there was no way >you could get me to write a story about smoking and sex like the >one Shon suggested, where some guy craves the after orgasm >cigarette. > >I feel a little guilty. Actually, I do have a story like that I >could write, but there aren't enough details. Everything I know >about the story is second hand (a second-hand smoking story - I >should get an award for terrible jokes) and I'd have to make up a >lot of details. I know, I know - writers make things up all the >time, it's part of our stock-in-trade. But see, this is all >based on a true story. > >Why is that a problem, you ask? Well, I guess I'm just not that >good a writer. Every story I write has some element of personal >experience in it, no matter how outlandish the story as a whole. >But this would be a story about two people who, although they >were friends and he was a shipmate, were intimate strangers. All >the details that would make this a good sex story are limited to >the kinds of things one bud tells another over a beer, or >confides while the womenfolk are out shopping and we're watching >a ballgame. > >Maybe I could give you some of the details and you or Shon could >take a swing at it. > >First, there's the couple. Let's call them Jack and Jill. Take >your finger out of your mouth and stop making retching noises; >it's just something to call them. No real names, I don't want to >be sued over this. > >Jack was a chief in another division; never mind which one. He >stood about six feet, neither overly muscled nor fat, but not a >beanpole by any means. Dark hair, no glasses. > >Jill was taller than PJ, and more slender. I'd have to say her >eyes were blue, mostly because if I said violet then any member >of that ship's crew would be able to put one and one together and >know exactly whom I was talking about without another detail. I >won't go into details like boob size or hips, because I hate >stories that talk about "her 34C chest" or her "38DD tits", and >anyway, how should I know? The closest I ever came to seeing >them personally was at the beach in a teeny-weeny bikini, and >*that* event meant I had to deal with the "Do you like Jill's >boobs more than mine?" question later at home. > >Make Jill a blonde, too, because strawberry blonde is as >revealing to her identity as violet eyes. Even changing her eye >color wouldn't conceal her identity if that weren't changed. >Maybe you should make up your own details, but in fairness to >Jill, whatever you describe has to make her as stacked in fiction >as she was in real life. > >How Jack and Jill got involved in this whole story was that Jill >was at the meeting of the wives' club when I called home from >that first Monday training lunch, looking for a nooner and having >PJ suggest I provide my own orgasm so I could drink and smoke >with the guys. Jill overheard enough of PJ's solution to make >her very curious. She stayed after the meeting to help clean up >and pry for details. > >Jack didn't smoke. Somehow he'd managed never to pick up that >nasty habit in fourteen years of Naval service. Jill, on the >other hand, had a half-a-pack-a-day habit. As I recall, that was >the only bone between them. They were an almost-perfect couple, >except for his (very) slight tendency to nag when she lit up. >(Can you tell I'm a smoker? The problem was the nagging, not the >lighting up. >vbg>) > >PJ confided the details of the substitution therapy to Jill after >the meeting, along with the successes and failures to that point. >Of course, she swore her to secrecy, except for Jack, and made >her promise to extract the same oath from Jack. When I got home >that day (and I hope you remember how memorable *that* was) PJ >didn't tell me a thing about it. > >I was still ignorant two days later when Jill shows up at the >Off-crew Office to pick up Jack, around 14:00. I'm the Duty >Chief that day, so I don't get to go home until 17:00, and I have >to stay available by the phone to handle emergencies. Jill takes >Jack's arm and distinctly says, "God, I'm dying for a cigarette." >Jack's head whips around and we make eye contact. He blushes. >Jill looks to see why he's blushing and sees me. She blushes. I >suddenly realize I'm holding a catless bag, and I blush. They >get to hastily depart, leaving me holding the bag, and wondering >who let the cat out. Obviously, since it isn't me, it has to be >my wife. > >I get PJ on the phone and relate the incident, which elicits a >full confession and the unwanted knowledge that Jack and Jill are >now in the same two-step program. After I'm done laughing, I >warn PJ that she'd better delay any dinner plans. I'm having a >nicotine fit and I've got the, to put it politely, raging hard-on >to prove it. I have three more hours, barring emergencies, >before I can come home for a home coming celebration. > >And that's when PJ reminds me we have company for dinner. That >reminder isn't bad enough, she goes on to remind me who it is: >Yep, you guessed it, Jack and Jill. As if what happened before I >called wasn't embarrassing enough (although much less so once I >realized that they weren't blushing about *my* needs), now I >could look forward to sharing an evening with a couple that knew >what was going on. > >There were no emergencies. I locked up the office, signed out >with the SUBGRUTWO duty officer, and raced home. PJ met me at >the door with a big kiss and the news that our company was >already there. What could I do? I changed out of uniform and >went out back to fire up the grill. Jack joined me while the >wives chatted in the kitchen. He was carrying two open beers. > >I accepted mine and set it on the picnic table without taking a >swig first. Do you remember when I explained that no way could I >drink a beer without smoking? Jack, being a non-smoker, didn't >have that problem, and I didn't know how to explain it to him. > >I must have blushed or something. He looked at the beer and >started laughing. "I'm sorry," he says. "I wasn't thinking >about, you-know, when I grabbed the beers." > >I don't know whether to be relieved or mortified, but the former >is a lot easier, so I joined the laugh. I caught a glimpse of >faces at the window and we heard giggling from that direction as >well. > >"So how's your, uh, program working out so far?" He's got a huge >grin on his face, and why shouldn't he? He's not the one >struggling with nicotine fit and dinner guests. > >"I guess I can't complain," I lie. "Although I could sure use a >cigarette about now." > >He holds up one hand. "No thanks, I'm not that kind of guy." We >break up again. > >"A better question might be how you and Jill are coping. >Truthfully, what did you think when she told you about us and >said she wanted to try to quit?" > >"Truthfully? I thought it was the weirdest thing I'd ever heard >of." He took a pull on his beer. "But I agreed to try. I've >been after Jill to quit smoking for years." He glanced at the >window and turned back to me, his face growing more serious. >"We've been married since before I joined the Navy, fifteen >years. Our love life has slowed down, just like anyone's. Once >a night would have been a dream come true." > >"Jill gets by on just one cigarette a day?" I asked, surprised. > >He shook his grinning face in a very happy negative, and held up >three fingers. "Sometimes four." > >We broke up again. > >"I saw that!" came Jill's voice, as the ladies opened the sliding >glass door and brought out the steaks and covered bowls. They >were laughing, too. "Are you giving away all our secrets?" > >"Congratulations, Jill! Jack tells me you're down to just three >or four cigarettes per day." > >She turned crimson and looked at Jack. "More like six or seven, >but thanks." > >I clapped Jack on the shoulder and said "You old dog! I didn't >know you had it in you." And then I noticed the expression on >his face. He didn't have it in him. Oops. > >PJ piped up, "I'm afraid I told Jill about the loophole we >found." > >Jack had gone from astonishment to the beginnings of rage when >Jill had corrected the number of cigarettes she was consuming. >It was fairly obvious that he wasn't aware of the alternatives. >I said, "So you're a solitary smoker, Jill?" > >I think if she could turn any redder, they'd have to name a color >after it. She nodded and looked sheepish (are there any red >sheep?). In a little voice, she said, "Sometimes a girl's got to >sneak off to the ladies room and have a cigarette, you know?" > >Jack finally twigged to what was going on and his building anger >released as amused chagrin and snorting, choking sputters. > >PJ and I were less restrained. We guffawed. That's the only >word for it. We'd been there. We'd done that. We'd used the >tee shirt to wipe up the mess. I handed my beer to Jill. > >She shook her head. "I'd better not." > >"Why not? He," I hooked a thumb at Jack, "offered it to *me*." >I turned away to put the steaks on the grill while everyone else >giggled and snickered and generally behaved in as sophomoric a >fashion as four purported adults could. > >"Gary," PJ got my attention, "Jill and I have been talking and >Jill asked me to ask you to tell Jack about Monday afternoon, if >it wouldn't be too embarrassing. We'll just go back inside for >the plates and stuff." > >"What about Monday afternoon?" Jack asked. I wasn't given the >chance to say no, so I thought about how best to answer. After >all, Jack had just learned that Jill masturbated when he wasn't >available. > >I flipped the steaks, a delaying tactic. "How do you want yours >done?" > >"Pink in the middle," he replies, waiting for the answer to *his* >question. > >"You like to eat it pink in the middle?" God, I do love a good >straight line. > >"Yeah, I always eat it pink in the middle." My question and my >grin are confusing the hell out of Jack. > >"What PJ says Jill wants me to tell you is, 'Eat it pink in the >middle more often,' I think." I'm not holding a straight face - >It's all I can do to stand up. I want to be rolling around >holding my sides. > >Jack looks so confused. Then the light finally comes on. "Oh," >he says. "OHHhhh." He drops his red face into his hands and >gets smacked by a beer bottle. I lose it. I'm laughing so hard >I've got tears in my eyes and the only thing keeping me upright >is the fact that I've got to get the steaks off the grill before >they're overcooked. > >The wives come back out with plates, flatware, glasses and a >pitcher of iced tea, and questioning looks. PJ asks, "Did you >discuss it wi
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Story tagged with:
Consensual / Romantic / Oral Sex / Masturbation /