The most wonderful thing about sex, fetishes and kinks is the variety. Everyone has their own unique thing that does it for them, that gets them hot.
Today I’m hosting a guest blog from the wonderful Mimieux, she has a fetish for smoking. I was excited to publish it, firstly to share her writing which I think it wonderfully open and easy to connect with and secondly because this isn’t a fetish I share so I won’t be writing about it.
(Although my diabolical man did threaten to force me to smoke whilst he fucked me which, of course, turned me on. Damn my treaturous vagina!)
I have a smoking fetish. I am also a dirty smoker, and when I am looking for a partner, I’m looking for a smoker, or at the very least, someone who isn’t disgusted by it. Smoking epitomises glamour, class, sensuality, and seduction, in my opinion. Look at all the screen sirens of the golden age of cinema. They all smoked. My grandma’s a smoker, and if you think of a ginger Patsy from Ab Fab, that’s essentially who she is. It’s bitchy, to smoke, all the bitchy girls at school smoked, and there’s nothing like going out for a fag with a friend, and tearing the people you’ve left at the table to shreds, or catching up on the latest gossip.
There’s something conspiratorial about smoking, as well. The fact that I’m paying to end my life a little bit sooner doesn’t bother me, because I get such pleasure from enjoying a cigarette. There are times when I think ‘maybe I should quit…’ but then I think of all the cigarettes I couldn’t live without: The first thing in the morning one with a cup of coffee, the one after four hours of teaching or lectures, the one with a glass of wine, the one after dinner, the one before bed, and the most delicious one of all, the post coital one.
It was the evil ex who turned me from an occasional (and by that I mean I could buy a packet a week and happily give some away) to a full on, heavy smoker. (I say heavy, I’m on about 20 a day, but that’s because they’re so fucking cheap in Spain, I can justify it to myself…) He was the one that taught me about the post coital cigarette, and how delicious it is, the nicotine rushing through my sated body adds something to the high, don’t you find?
Up until recently, I’d never really incorporated smoking into my sexual adventures; I’d done a little bit of ashtray play in the past, but never anything too heavy, and I suppose it’s because for a lot of people I’ve been with, I’m not allowed to smoke in the house, which kind of limits the possibilities a little bit. I’m all for al fresco fucking, but you can’t do that the first time you meet someone, not in the way I’d want to do it, at least.
I met a great guy a few weeks before leaving for Spain, and I remember being on the phone to him, before we went for drinks, and I asked him if I could smoke in his flat, and he said of course I could. I went one further, and asked him if I could smoke in his bed, after we’d fucked. His breath caught in his throat, and I thought the line had cut out, but no, he was just regaining his composure. He went one further, and said that I could have a cigarette whilst he fucked me, if I fancied. Which of course, I did, because that’s fucking hot.
There’s something grubby about smoking as well, the smell, the taste, it reminds me of grit under the fingernails that you get after you’ve been to a dive bar. The amount of times I’ve come home from a night out stinking of stale wine and fags, it’s disgusting, but also, disgustingly hot. The fact that I don’t care that I smell foul and taste horrible (to a non smoker) kind of gets me off, a bit. It’s the fact that I’m placing my pleasure, my need for a cigarette (or five) over how others view me.
A cigarette in my hand also completes my look. Especially when I was at college. You gotta imagine this girl with a white face, red lipstick, dyed purple hair, short skirts, laddered tights, leather jackets, beaten up Doc Martens, heavy eyeliner… the cigarette was considered by some to be an extension of my hand. If I went out at break, and didn’t have a fag, people would ask me what was wrong with me, if I was feeling okay, that it was unnatural to see me without my 6th finger.
Is there a link between smoking and oral sex? I think so, definitely. I love smoking, and I love giving blow jobs. I’ve not had enough girl on girl experience to talk about giving head to girls, but I enjoy that as well. But it’s the sucking motion, going down on a guy, holding your breath, taking him in your mouth, rolling your tongue around him a little, tasting him, enjoying him, is very similar to how you would smoke a cigarette. You can go hard, suck it down, gag on it, and choke on it, or you can enjoy it, languidly taking a drag when you feel that way inclined. Smoking got me good at blowjobs, and now I love both, and I love to combine the two. Exhaling a mouthful of smoke over the desperately throbbing head of guy’s cock is hot, taking a drag and then swallowing him down, completely cutting off your oxygen, so you go a little light headed and feel a little sick – also hot. No two ways about it. The taste of come and smoke – now we’re talking.
I know it’s going to kill me, if I don’t quit soon, but at the moment, I’m not too worried. I’ll always be a smoker, always, even if it is just sexually, or socially. Another thing I love is looking at an ashtray, and identifying which cigarettes are mine, because of the ring of purple, red, pink lipstick around the butt. It reminds me a little of the lipstick marks I like to leave around the base of a cock, after I’ve been deepthroating it.
Massive thank you to Mimieux for bringing something new and different to babefiend.com. We would love to hear your comments on her smoking fetish, does it do it for you?….