Chapter 6: I Will Fuck the Lord at All Times

Harriet arrived early at All Cunts Langham Place on Sunday morning, to spend time in private prayer, and to give thanks for recent events. To think it was just a fortnight ago that she had come to church to ask for God’s guidance – and how faithful He had been! How gentle His hand, and yet how glorious His triumph! “Thank you, Lord!” she exclaimed, as she sat, head bowed, in one of the back pews, idly fingering her cunt as she prayed.

There was at least half an hour before the service was due to begin, so Harriet wandered outside, sat topless in her pink latex skirt on the front steps of the church, baring her glorious breasts – naked bar a pair of pink nipple-tassles – to the sun, and lit another cigarette. The air was still and warm, as it usually was in post-climate-change London at this time of the year, and so, becalmed by her prayer, she smoked slowly, with long deep inhales, taking time to feel the smoke swirling clemently in and out of her lungs, before exhaling long and slow, studying the way the smoke passed from between her pursed lips, forming an extended cone before her, before eventually disintegrating into the warm air. The occasional passer-by turned their head to gawp – but this did not bother Harriet. How beautiful, Lord! she thought, as wispy residual smoke dribbled casually from her nostrils. How beautiful Your Creation, and yet how much more beautifully You adorn it with fucking, and fetishes, and tits and ass and cunt, and ... God, thank You, that I too can make this world a better place with my smoking and my fucking! Thy will be done...

It was as she smoked that she noticed someone standing on the other side of the road stroking his cock. This was not an unusual sight, of course: under Enlightenment law all borough authorities were theoretically obliged to provide easily accessible public masturbatory and/or fucking facilities, but there were rarely enough to satisfy general demand, so most people just made do with jerking off against a wall or a lamppost, or into a flower bed. However, this young man – lanky, with sandy hair, dressed in faded blue jeans and a T-shirt – was not just stroking his cock, but appeared to be watching Harriet intently at the same time, apparently fascinated by her smoking. Harriet tilted her head in curiosity, took an especially deep inhale, then turned sideways and slightly upward so the young man could watch her exhale in profile – a long, perfect cone of smoke up into the still morning air. She turned back to look at the boy: his cock had grown bigger, and he was stroking it with renewed urgency. Ooh, success! thought Harriet. He likes watching exhales. What about if I try one through my nose? She took another deep drag, looked directly at the young man, and let flow downward from her nostrils two narrow streams of smoke which bounced off her tits before disintegrating. The boy appeared to gasp with pleasure, and began jerking his cock even faster. Harriet twirled her torso gently so that her tassels swayed from side to side, then exhaled a long stream of smoke directly between them, so that her tits were bathed in smoke, glowing and ethereal in the morning sunshine. The young man’s gasp was audible this time, even over the Sunday morning traffic, and his hand was now almost a blur round his cock, as he continued to watch Harriet, mouth agape, drooling with desire.

Harriet took another drag, but held it in and chased it down with a second deep inhale, so that her lungs were now full, and churning with dense, rich smoke, which she exhaled directly towards the boy, simultaneously fixing his eyes with a practised “fuck me” stare. This was enough to take him over the edge – and his cock exploded. “Oh fuck!” he exclaimed, as spurt after spurt of thick creamy cum shot out across the pavement, narrowly missing a dachshund out for a walk with its mistress. The dog-owner tutted, but the young man didn’t notice: his eyes were fixed on Harriet, watching in joyous fascination as she took one last tar-laden drag from her cigarette butt, dropped it on the ground, and ground it into the pavement with the heel of her pink latex boots.

Harriet smirked triumphantly, before calling out across the road, “You like my smoking?”

Still panting from his orgasm, the boy nodded silently.

“Come here,” called Harriet. “Let me see that dick.”

Obediently, the boy waited for a gap in the traffic and crossed the road, before standing, all sheepish and gangly, below Harriet in front of the church steps. “Hey, I know you, don’t I?” remarked Harriet, as the last dangle of cum dripped from the end of the boy’s cock onto the bottom step. “You were here a couple of weeks ago: you had a tiny dick, and you couldn’t even get it hard!” she giggled.

“Uh, yeah,” answered the boy shyly, “but then the Lord healed me.”

“Praise the Lord! Michael, right?” Harriet checked.

“Oh! You remembered my name?” He looked amazed, and pleased.

“Yeah, why not?” replied Harriet.

“Well ... not many people remember me ... I guess I’m not very ... exciting...” muttered Michael.

“But now you’ve got a great big dick, girls must remember you!” responded Harriet. “Who wouldn’t want to fuck that?” She gestured at Michael’s cock, still dangling out of his fly, and still massive despite its current flaccidity.

“W-well...” Michael stuttered. “The past two weeks, yeah, I’ve fucked loads of girls, sure ... and, I mean, that’s fucking and all ... but then, after they come, they lose interest, and just dump me. I guess having a big cock doesn’t necessarily give me a scintillating personality...” He shrugged awkwardly, before adding, “You’re Harriet, right? Looks like your prayers have been answered too: you’ve found your fetish!”

“Too fucking right!” grinned Harriet. “Hey, you remembered my name too!”

“Well, of course. You’re pretty, and you’ve got beautiful GM tits,” he gestured towards them helpfully, “and ... well, even more, you’re hot, and sexy, and you dress amazingly, and you’re doing Further Fucking at Kunt College, right? Who wouldn’t remember – oh fuck...” Michael’s sentence petered out, his attention suddenly arrested by the fact that Harriet was taking another cigarette out of her packet and clamping it between her lips before rummaging for her lighter in her cunt-pink handbag. Michael’s lower lip started to tremble, and his cock immediately began to rise again.

Harriet noticed. “Wow! You really do like my smoking, don’t you?”

The boy nodded. “I’ve n-never seen anything so beautiful in my entire l-life!” he stammered, almost apologetically. “I’ve heard of smoking, read about it in the history books, but I’ve never seen it before. And the moment I saw you across the road I – oh fuck...” Michael ran out of words again, as he watched Harriet’s lighter flick, saw her cheeks hollow, and gaped in awe as she filled her mouth with a rich, creamy, swirling ball of smoke, parted her lips slightly to show it off, then inhaled it swiftly into her lungs. Now Michael’s cock was at full size again: a miraculous God-given eight and a half inches, the purple glans throbbing again with desire. Harriet aimed her exhale downward, directly at his cock, enveloping it in smoke. “Oh God, oh fuck, oh Jesus! That feels so good,” Michael groaned, as he felt the warm smoke caress his cock, making it jerk and twitch with pleasure.

“Sounds like you’ve got a smoking fetish too, Mikey!” Harriet grinned, little puffs of smoke escaping her lips as she spoke. “Wanna smoke?” She offered him her packet of Marlboro Lights 100s.

“Oh no, no. I don’t want to do it, I just want to watch! It’s so ... beautiful. OK if I jerk off again while I watch you?”

“I’ve got a better idea, Mikey. Come here,” she beckoned.

Obediently, Michael walked slowly up the steps until his cock was level with Harriet’s face. The girl took a drag of her cigarette, inhaled it deep, then blew it luxuriantly at Michael’s erection. “Oh God!” the boy moaned, his cockhead leaking a glistening drop of pre-cum as it twitched again with pleasure.

“Shall I suck your cock while I smoke, Mikey?” asked Harriet. She didn’t wait for an answer, but took another lungful of smoke, exhaling through both mouth and nose simultaneously as she licked up and down the underside of his shaft, her eyes gleaming with purpose and ambition. Now I can be like Megan and Michelle and Jasmine on those videos, she thought. I’m going to make this boy come with my smoke. He is going come in my smoky mouth, and he is going to be as addicted to my smoking as I am! Fuck yeah, thank you Jesus!

Soon Michael’s cock was deep in Harriet’s mouth. Despite not being a natural deepthroater, Harriet had always loved the feeling of a stiff cock lodged in her face, loved swirling her tongue around the head as spit dribbled from her lips. But now the smoking was adding yet more layers of delight to her blowjob: soon Michael’s cock tasted of smoke too, and Harriet could alternate between taking deep lungfuls of smoke from her cigarette and tasting that same exhaled smoke on Michael’s cock two drags later. Sometimes she exhaled directly onto Michael’s cock, giving him a brief break from oral stimulation; sometimes she licked his cock with gusto, smoke pouring carelessly from both mouth and nose; sometimes – oh fuck, this is the best! she thought to herself – she kept his cock in her mouth, let it keep fucking her face, as she exhaled from her nostrils, so that her used smoke adorned his cock from above. Michael watched intently, gazing with delight down into Harriet’s happy eyes, revelling in the sight of her wide jaw sliding up and down his spit-slimy shaft, and – best of all – watching his dick surrounded in billowing smoke, making the interface between slut-face and stud-cock look as if it was on fire.

“Oh God, oh fuck!” Michael hardly needed to announce his impending orgasm, as Harriet could feel his cock growing stiffer, twitching and jerking as cum rose up his shaft towards her smoke-filled mouth.

As he began to jizz, Harriet took one last deep drag, filling her lungs with smoke, looking up into Michael’s eyes, opening her mouth wide and exhaling ever so slowly, so that her upturned mouth became a swirling cauldron of creamy white. Into that cauldron squirted Michael’s hot cum, each spurt mingling and melding with the churning smoke, so that Harriet felt she was drinking down the most intoxicating cocktail of all: smoke and cum, and cum and smoke – who knew where one ended and the other began? This is what Heaven must be like! Harriet marvelled. And Michael thought the same.

“Well, Mikey,” announced Harriet, as she stubbed out her cigarette on the step and sucked the last few drops of boy-cum from his cockhead, “I think we should thank God together for this! He’s given you a great big dick, He’s given me a totally amazing fetish, and He’s brought us together with it too! Let’s go in together and praise Jesus!” Around them, more worshippers were beginning to arrive, smiling indulgently at them as they passed on both sides on their way into church.

“Oh, are you sure?” Michael looked surprised. “I thought you’d want to dump me now. That’s what most girls do after the first fuck...”

“Well, one: we haven’t actually fucked yet, have we, Mikey? And with a cock that size, I’m not dumping you until I’ve had it in my pussy at least once. Two: we smoking fetishists should stick together: I get to smoke for you, and you get to watch me – not a bad pairing, hey? And three: I think you’re kinda nice, OK? Don’t read too much into it – but I’m not dumping you yet.”

Michael grinned from ear to ear. “Oh Harriet! No one’s ever said anything so nice to me in my life before!”

“I’m like that. Mikey. Come on, let’s go in.”

Twenty minutes later, the Reverend Dicky Fumbel was in full flow. “Michael!” he bellowed, beckoning the young man up to the altar. “How’s the cock, Michael? Show us that great big motherfucking-miraculous Jesus-dick!”

Shyly, Michael unzipped his fly and manoeuvred his huge erection out so that it pointed forty-five degrees upward over the heads of the congregation. There was a huge gasp from the assembled crowd. Reverend Fumbel was joyous: “See, brothers and sisters! Now, there are some naysayers, some agents of the Evil One, who come to me and say, ‘You’re faking all your miracles! They’re not real, they’re planted!’ But I say to them, ‘Could I have faked this?’ You saw Michael’s pathetic weeny dick two weeks ago, you saw how it couldn’t even get hard when faced with Deaconess Rahab’s hot juicy gaping cunt! Look at it now – hallelujah! Michael, have you been fucking lots of hot pussy with that dick? Don’t you dare say no!” he added, laughing.

Michael nodded shyly, his cock still twitching and bobbing enthusiastically before him – but Reverend Fumbel wasn’t waiting for an answer. “Well, Michael, you’re going to fuck even more pussy today – and soon, because I hear God asking me, nay, commanding me, my brothers and sisters, to call down the Horny Spirit on all of us here today.” There was an enthusiastic gasp from the congregation. “Now, I know some of you are sceptical,” the preacher continued, “some of you are thinking to yourself, ‘It’s all very well talking about the Horny Spirit in Bible times, coming down on the disciples in Jerusalem, but it doesn’t happen now.’ Well, brothers and sisters, if that’s what you think, if that’s how unbelieving you are, then I say to you, open your hearts now, open your cunts and your assholes, and invite the Horny Spirit in. He wants to give to you of His manifold gifts – and Scripture tells us what they are: