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
In a message dated 1/22/02 12:31:29 AM Eastern Standard Time, PJcocoa writes:
>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
>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
>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
>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
>"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,
>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
>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
>I flipped the steaks, a delaying tactic. "How do you want yours
>"Pink in the middle," he replies, waiting for the answer to *his*
>"You like to eat it pink in the middle?" God, I do love a good
>"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
>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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