“It’s two years, baby,” Celia chided as she exhaled. Blue smoke crept by Will’s nose and he wrinkled it in disgust. “What’s the matter, darling? I thought you loved my Cohibas.” She circled his chair, drawing scrolls in the air with the extremely expensive and very illegal Cuban cigar.
“Here pumpkin, have a taste,” she coaxed, leaning into him and pressing the wet, acrid cylinder to his tightly clamped lips. “Darling, open up for your precious. It’s our anniversary. Come now, be a good boy!”
Will forced himself to sit still. She was testing him, knowing full well he hated the taste of the pungent sticks. It lingered for days in his mouth like a bad decision and no amount of Scope could eradicate its bitterness.
Celia stepped over Will’s legs, lifting the denim skirt above her thighs to straddle his lap. Her muscles quivered as she hovered above his groin.
Linking her dark eyes with his, she placed the cigar between her teeth and took three short puffs. Her ruby red lips made popping sounds as she opened and closed them around the tobacco stick.
Clouds of smoke fogged between them, but their gaze remained unbroken. Will could feel the pull on his cock with her every draw… puffing his erection to life.
It grew like the smoke. Thick and steady as he watched Celia raise two fingers to cradle the cigar in their V.
Her Cheshire Cat smile gloated as she tilted her head and took one last puff. Smoke bled from between her perfectly O formed pouty mouth. It rose in her face and she squinted through the haze, but Will thought it only made her look sexier.
He examined her face as she reached between her spread thighs and ran her hand across his lap. Her expression gave away nothing of her intentions as she carefully avoided his aching bulge. The devious look in her eyes spoke volumes to him and he finally reached out to grab her arms.
“Oh, no, darling,” Celia admonished as she backed away. She stood in front of him, feet planted shoulder width apart. “You will watch, as I fuck myself for you.” She lowered the cigar between her thighs and waited.
Will’s breath caught. He unzipped his trousers and gave his cock the freedom it was screaming for. Its purple head glistened with the tiniest dewdrop of desire.
Celia lifted her skirt, revealing the absence of panties, and ran the wet cigar tip around her pussy. Her head dropped back and she moaned as it touched her clit.
Sliding it back and forth across her slit, Celia leveled her gaze at Will. With a quick anticipating lick of her lips, Celia pushed the thick cigar into her cunt. Her sharp intake of breath sent shivers up Will’s spine and they again locked eyes.
She moved the cigar in and out of her cunt in rhythmic motion. Will echoed her strokes on his shaft.
They observed each other as their breath increased to gasps. The air in the room changed from tease to need to lust to hunger.
Their strokes quickened.
With focused effort, Celia pulled the cigar from her pussy just as she hit the edge of orgasm. Will followed suit and stopped his own movements.
Celia shifted to position herself just above his lap and lowered her hips to engulf his rigid cock with her saturated pussy. Their satisfied moans echoed together as they ground into each other.
When Celia lifted the pussy juice drenched cigar to Will’s lips, he greedily sucked it into his mouth. Her vanilla peach flavor mingled with the piquant spice of the Cuban tobacco.
He devoured the thing. Sucking it back and forth between his lips like a starving animal. Her taste was all he craved as she rode his cock to climax.
As she screamed her release, Will pulled the cigar from his mouth and threw it to the floor. He grabbed Celia’s hips, pounding her ass into his pelvis and driving his cock deep inside of her.
His choked grunts morphed to incoherent moans and Celia gripped Will’s shoulders as his body tensed under her. Riding out his spasm, her lips curled into a smile as she admired his lovely face twisted in orgasm.
“Will, my darling. Did I see you sucking on my cigar?” she asked when he finally relaxed. Her facetious question was not lost on Will. He blushed crimson and reached to the floor where the discarded cigar lay.
Picking it up and placing it in the ashtray, he said, “I couldn’t help myself, my sweets. You know I love your Cohibas.”
You know that unadulterated, narcissistic pleasure that enjoying Happy Hour brings? Ya … that … Late bloomer, Penny Mykels began writing ‘cock-tales’ midlife in 2009 on her blog, VineyardRoad.com where her weekly Thirsty Thursday short erotic fantasies always finish off with a cocktail recipe for your enjoyment. “Get your juices flowing, it’s Happy Hour!”
on Twitter: @VineyardRoad on Facebook: PennyMykels