I bet that you can not explain why you are turned on bythe image of a woman smoking (you are, I assume). Sarah and Mitzi each broke into a huge grin as Mitzi pulled a freshcarton of Kools from her bureau drawer. "Well, come on in and join the fun," said Mitzi.
alt.smokers.glamour
In fact, Sarah had to light Mitzi's cigarettes for her. Sarah was alternating Marlboros and Kools. This made for a wonderfullyrough feeling in her throat.
Wearing her brown slacks, white top, and brown duster style cashmere sweater, the black strap over her shoulder at first glance looked like a purse. With the tank on it’s little cart being pulled behind me I head for the porch with two mugs in one hand, and a bag of coffee in my other pocket with my inhaler. I have always been turned on by the sight of a woman smoking. If allI ever got from the internet were the pictures I have downloadedfrom ASG, I would die a happy man. I do not require the lung damageaspect of the fetish to become aroused. But, from a very early ageI noticed that the more a woman smoked, the more I enjoyed it.
Cancer will hit quick, and kill me fast. Ideally, my heart will just give out, all these years of smoking, being overweight, drinking too much… I won’t know what hit me. COPD, it’s a chronic condition you know, and it looks like a miserable way to live. Mitzi inhaled the oxygen deeply one more time and removed her mask.She then raised her Kool to her lips and took another long,cheek-hollowing drag. Once again, she forced the smoke down with alarge hit of oxygen from her tank. This was followed by yet anotherdrag from Mitzi's beloved Kool.
A site devoted to the Dark Side of the Smoking Fetish
How truly beautiful to see a woman sodedicated to her cigarettes. Shefelt the same way about her own cigarettes, her partners for life,Marlboro 100s. How arousing to see another woman who, like Sarah,cared more about smoking than life itself. Sarah thought Mitzi mightbe dying, but envied her in every way.
She thought for just a moment and then lit one of the Black Menthols. Her sense of taste wasn’t what it once was but they were pretty good. As she took a drag off the cigarette she thought about the guy behind the counter. To bad no man would date her because she smoked so much. Alice took a drag and pulled open the door exhaling a cloud of smoke. The buzz of the door made Bill glance up from his book.
We were naked from the waist down and experimenting with each other’s body. Dad assumed I was gay, only finding out a couple years later I was actually bisexual. He assumed, with what for him was typical homophobia, it was because he was my only parent.
He’d had college kids come in and buy packs individually, and he’d had 60 year olds, dragging oxygen tubing, leaning on a walker, clearly at deaths door, buy cartons. Her fat pot belly pressing into my abdomen as I pound my erection into her. The room smells of stale cigarettes, and another smolders in the ashtray. She moans breathlessly under me, and gasps, pulling in the air that’s thick with her second hand smoke.
I’m No Quitter
- Every deep, painful, and heavy drag reminds me of what I’ve been doing to my lungs for years.It’s precisely this destructive feeling in my lungs when I inhale that I live for.
- He tells me to rest, not to worry about anything today, he’ll take care of me.
- What a wonderful thought, ruining my lungs forever.
- “My mother is 70 years old and was diagnosed with COPD years ago.
- Doubtless making it easier for the cigarettes to poison me.
I stopped at the back of the parking lot. She was trying to catch her breath and she shook an inhaler. She paused and asked breathlessly “Grabbed them?
The Yellowed Girls Chapter 7 – Just another morning
Mitzi appeared to be struggling for her breath. Sarah started to reachout and help her, but decided to watch quietly for a moment. Mitzi'strembling hand was reaching for her oxygen tank, which was beside herbed. Her hand passed right over the oxygen tank and plucked her packof Kools from the nightstand. Somehow Mitzi was able to shake acigarette loose and place it between her lips. She grabbed her lighterand, with a badly shaking hand, flicked it to life.
She could hardly keep from rubbing herself as her moistfeminine juices began to flow. Her lungs felt fuller and tighter thanthey had ever felt. They were packed full of tar and nicotine. https://p1nup.in/ It feltas if someone had poured wet concrete into her lungs. There was anaching feeling deep within her chest. Sarah could contain herself nolonger and began to masturbate, even though Mitzi was sitting rightthere.
- At least someone enjoys the frankly horrific damage I’ve done to myself, and makes me feel beautiful.
- I badly need this cigarette, badly need this nicotine.
- She had her Marlboro lit, and was looking out over the backyard.
- Mitzi inhaled the oxygen deeply one more time and removed her mask.She then raised her Kool to her lips and took another long,cheek-hollowing drag.
- The cigarettein her mouth glowed brightly with each cheek-hollowing drag she took.Thick smoke flowed from each of her nostrils as she walked down thehall toward Mitzi's room.
She takes a cigarette from a nearly empty pack and lights it. Sarah repeated this process until the cigarette was finished. She hadnever released even a wisp of smoke from her lungs. Every particle oftar from that cigarette had become part of Sarah's lungs, a permanentpart of her. They would darken the color, intensify the smell, andgnarl the texture of Sarah's already horribly abused lungs. Thethought of what she was doing to her own lungs made Sarah incrediblyaroused.
He has a large breakfast pizza delivered. All the while I lie there naked like a barnyard animal, hacking up one brown/yellow lougie after another, wheezing like a leaking tire, and he takes care of me. Every touch is a gentle caress, he kisses me, helps me take my pills, helps me urinate into my urinal.
I’ve urinated myself too, soaking the absorbent pad I’m sitting on. I should’ve quit smoking a long time ago, I was such a fool. My husband managed it, before his heart attack. When a younger man convinced me I looked sexy smoking, I let him convince me that it was okay. That my shortness of breath wouldn’t get worse. After all it wasn’t like I was Beth, sitting there in a chair, wheezing around an oxygen tube, with a cigarette in one hand and an inhaler in the other.
