Smoke Like a Whore - illustrated
Copyright© 2025 by CreepyUnclePete
Chapter 5
Drama Sex Story: Chapter 5 - Teen Marie's mother catches her with cigarettes and gives her an ultimatum. If she wants to keep smoking like a dirty whore, she needs to suck and fuck her stepdad, like a dirty whore.
Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/ft Fa/Fa Mult Coercion Consensual BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Cheating Sharing Incest Mother Daughter Grand Parent Group Sex Anal Sex Analingus Oral Sex Public Sex Smoking Prostitution Illustrated
(Marie)
I woke with a bad headache and a mild pain between my legs. Keith was asleep next to me, snoring quietly. After using the toilet and shower, I shambled to the kitchen and complained to Gran, “I got a hangover and my kitty hurts.”
She smirked and handed me a glass of something red. “I don’t doubt it, after last night. There were a dozen beer cans and five used condoms on the kitchen floor this morning.”
I meekly apologized, “Sorry for the mess. What’s this?”
“Bloody Mary, best thing for a hangover. Drink up.”
“Thanks.” The combined flavors of tomato juice and vodka was strange, but I reluctantly choked it down.
“I’d ask if he got you drunk and took advantage of you, but last night you were so horny I could smell it.”
I was terribly embarrassed and covered my face with my hands. “OHMIGOSH!”
Gran snickered. “Hehehe! It’s okay. I like the aroma, and the flavor.” She licked her lips, then lit a cigarette.
I asked, “You’re really okay with me smoking and having sex?”
She handed me one of my new super-long cigs, then a lighter. “Why shouldn’t I be? When my big brother taught me to smoke and do blowjobs I was barely eighteen, like you. Your mother and aunt Hope were very bad girls, too. Lou, their second stepfather, caught them nude and smoking cigarettes together. Hope had a Marlboro dangling from her lips and most of her hand inside your mom. Lou called them whores, dykes, cunts, and other things; while he beat them up. I divorced him, and he went to prison for few years.”
“OHMIGAWSH!”
“I think that’s why your mother doesn’t like anything involving lesbians.”
She nodded. “Makes sense.”
“It didn’t discourage Hope, though. She went through nine or ten girlfriends by the time she dropped out of college. I met your father when we made a couple porn movies with Keith and a couple of girls. Your Dad traded Hope and your mom cartons of cigarettes, in exchange for their virginities. They fucked for smokes, just like you and I. We’re a family of cigarette whores.”
Marie nervously said, “Uhm...”
“Hope got pregnant with Kelly the first time she did it. She was on the pill, but babies still happen sometimes. Your mom and dad made you a couple months later. I guess you and Kelly are half-cousins and half-sisters? Anyway, I’m glad you decided on Keith instead of some stupid and reckless high school boy.”
Kelly and I were friends and in the same grade. I wondered aloud, “Does Kelly know?”
“I told her last month, and Keith gave her a carton of Salem 100s for a blowjob. She’s still a virgin and said she wants to try sex with a girl first. She has a crush on you, like her mother and I. Should I invite them over for a lesbian orgy? Or would you rather date just Kelly first?”
“Uhm ... ah ... maybe a date with her and Keith?”
“Sure. Hope and I will need to borrow his big bone when you’re done, of course. I doubt either of you can handle all the sex it takes to finish him, or me. You’re welcome to watch if we can watch you and your half-cousin, err ... half-sister, Kelly?”
“Um ... I don’t know...”
(Kelly)
The scent of stale menthol smoke and expensive perfume always clung to my mother like a second skin, a fragrant armor she wore whenever we stepped into Granny Heidi’s living room. I felt the familiar weight of my own secret—a hidden pack of Salem 100s tucked into my waistband—pressing against my hip. I didn’t want my friends to know I was a dirty smoker, a horny, bisexual, dirty smoker.
I wasn’t a virgin to the idea of Gran’s orgies, but the air here always felt thicker, charged with a sleazy kind of electricity that made the fine hairs on my arms stand up, and dampened my panties.
“Don’t just stand there like a statue, Kelly,” Mom whispered, her voice a low, husky rasp that sounded like velvet dragged over gravel. She reached out, her long, manicured fingers brushing my cheek, and I could smell the faint, acrid tang of tobacco on her breath. “Your gran’s been dying to see if you’ve finally grown into those hips.”
We stepped inside, and the room was already a swirling nebula of blue-grey smoke. Granny Heidi was draped across the velvet chaise lounge like a decadent queen, a long Virginia Slim dangling from her lips, while Marie sat cross-legged on the rug, looking far too composed for someone who had recently discovered the joys of a heavy nicotine buzz. Keith stood by the mantel, looking like a silver-fox titan in a linen shirt, his eyes roaming over us with an appreciation that felt almost tactile.
“Good god,” Keith murmured, his voice a deep rumble that vibrated in my chest. “The genetics in this family are simply unfair. Three generations of absolute perfection, all wrapped in a cloud of smoke.”
He walked toward us, pausing to admire the way Mom leaned back, exhaling a slow, deliberate stream of smoke that veiled her eyes. He didn’t touch us—not yet—but the way he looked at the four of us was like he was cataloging every curve, every puff of the lip.
“Look at them,” Keith continued, his gaze shifting to Marie and then lingering on me. “The way you all hold a cigarette ... it’s not just a habit, it’s a performance. It’s the art of the slow burn.”
Marie giggled, a little bit of smoke escaping her nose. “Keith’s obsessed with the way we smoke. He says it’s the sexiest thing a woman can do.”
He nodded and agreed, “Absolutely! Other than maybe a blowjob.”
Granny Heidi let out a plume of smoke that looked like a ghostly crown. “For him there’s something about the anticipation of the next drag, the way the lips pucker, the slow inhalation ... it’s a tease that never ends.”
I felt my face heat up as Keith stepped closer to me, his scent of expensive cologne and musk mixing with the thickening smog of the room. He leaned in, his voice a whisper near my ear. “And you, Kelly ... you have the most delicious little pout. I can tell you’re craving one. Go ahead, light up.”
I trembled slightly as I reached for the gold lighter, my fingers shaking just enough to make the flame dance. I slid a Salem 100 between my lips, the long, slender filter feeling like a foreign object against my tongue. As I inhaled, the sharp, minty bite of the tobacco hit the back of my throat, making me cough once before the smoke settled into a warm, heavy weight in my lungs. When I exhaled, I looked up and saw Keith. He wasn’t even blinking; he was staring at my mouth with an intensity that felt like a physical touch, a wide, predatory smile stretching across his face as he watched the grey plume curl around my lips.
Suddenly, I shifted my gaze to Marie, who sat on the carpet with her legs crossed modestly. She was watching me, her eyes hooded and dark, a cigarette dangling precariously from the corner of her mouth. She looked different—older, somehow. My eyes drifted down to her chest, where her thin camisole struggled to contain the swell of her breasts, which looked fuller, firmer, and more insistent than they had a few months ago. The sight of her—the smoke, the confidence, the way she looked at me like she wanted to devour me—sent a sudden, electric jolt of heat straight to my core, leaving me breathless and aching in a way that had nothing to do with the nicotine.
“Careful, Kelly,” Marie murmured, her voice a low, playful purr as she took a slow drag, her breasts heaving with the effort. “If you keep looking at me like that, you might forget how to breathe.”
Keith let out a low, appreciative chuckle, his gaze bouncing between the two of us. “The tension in this room is practically vibrating. I can almost taste the hunger. It’s a shame to rush things, isn’t it? The anticipation is half the pleasure.”
He reached out, not to touch us, but to pluck the cigarette from my fingers, taking a small puff himself before handing it back with a wink. I felt a surge of boldness, leaning back and exhaling a cloud of smoke directly toward Marie’s face.
“I’m not hungry, Marie,” I lied, my voice trembling as I felt the dampness starting to pool between my thighs. “I’m just admiring the view.”
Granny Heidi laughed, the sound like a dry rustle of silk. “Oh, she’s definitely hungry, Keith. Look at those cheeks. She’s practically glowing. Let’s show the young ones what you, Hope, and I do most weekends.”