The trolley let Jack and Roxanne off a block from the Barcode Bar & Grill. They stepped into the balmy night. Roxanne lit a corked cigarette and grabbed jack’s hand, pulling him toward a half-built Uptown home. It was one of a few new constructions going up on the street. No doors or windows yet, but the house had a roof and walls.
Jack smelled a mix of fresh paint and the trailing smoke of Roxanne’s square as they entered. Stepping over some rubble and pulling Jack off to a corner lit partially by a street light, Roxanne turned in passion and kissed him.
His tongue was sweet, flattening and pushing against her own. She sighed with a wince, feeling the pressure building as her button strained against its cage. She welcomed the pain.
Jack’s cock was in its own cage. His fuckstick was throbbing and pushing against his zipper. Roxanne brought her cigarette to her lips, leaving it dangling. She reached down to unleash Jack’s love. Pulling his zipper down, she could feel the enormous strain. Roxanne reached inside and pulled his pulsing erection out. Jack's amazing root was bouncing in the moonlight to the beat of his heart.
Taking the Newport from her lips, Roxanne tilted her head downward, toward his manhood, and released a large drop of saliva onto his beautiful knob. After rubbing the warm tobacco-flavored fluid around his cockhead and down his waiting shaft, Roxanne dropped her panties, lifted her skirt, and turned away from Jack.
In front of her were three unopened bags of concrete. She leaned forward, laying her torso perfectly on them. Jack grabbed the base of his fuckstick and stepped forward, pushing himself into Roxanne for the first time. Her warmth swallowed him. She moaned.
Roxanne turned her head to the side and took a long drag from her cigarette. The cherry at the end glowed, casting low light in the room of the unfinished dwelling. She tilted her ass in an upward arch, and Jack instantly caught the signal. He pulled out and stepped to the top of the concrete bags. With a foot on each side of Roxanne's ass, Jack used his thumb to push his shaft downward. From the squatting position, he entered her from behind once again.
Now, his head was next to hers while he stroked his root in and out of the smoking slut. Caught up in the naughtiness of it all, she flicked her ash and brought the cigarette to her lips again. Jack watched intently. His smoking dreams and fantasies were happening just inches away. In that moment, he controlled his own breathing and pleasure noises, so he could hear any noise Roxanne's lips might make, as well as the sound of the cigarette paper and tobacco burning. And there it was.
So fucking hot, Jack thought.
Would his fetish ever get to this place again? He didn't know, but he knew this night was special.
Roxanne inhaled heavy and blew a giant cone of smoke through her full lips. Cigarettes made her feel so slutty. She was getting off.
Smelling the smoke so close, Jack closed his teeth down on her neck and picked up speed. As he stroked, with his bare ass bouncing up and down like a piston, he was reaching for the depths of Roxanne’s love-box. The perfume of her lovely undercarriage rose to meet his nostrils.
She tilted her head upward, taking another long pull of her cigarette. Watching again, Jack realized he'd found a power-smoker.
With this inner confirmation of her amazing talent, and the knowledge that smoking during sex was a thing for her also, he felt the warm rush of orgasm building. It was on him. He was going to release.
As she double-pumped the short of her cigarette, Roxanne’s own orgasm had caught up with her. They arrived together. Viscous fluid came blasting through the bars of her cage, as Jack showered her tender ass cheeks with hot jets of jism.
Catching her breath, she wondered – Can I keep him?
