Velvet Rendezvous

This story is complete fiction, any resemblance to real people are a coincidence. This story contains a good deal of smoking. If that is a topic that does not interest you, please move on.

Chapter 1

Mark was about to pour himself a drink when the doorbell rang. It had been a long day at work and an even worse commute home to the suburbs. He answered the door to see his neighbor Rachel standing there looking a little upset, or maybe nervous, he couldn't tell. Rachel had lived next door for awhile now and they'd talked occasionally or flirt when they had a drink at the block parties, but he wouldn't say they were close. Not that he wouldn't want to be close to her. She was stunning in a green sundress that fit the summer weather almost as well as it fit her breathtaking curves. "Nice to see you Rachel, please, come in," he said.

"Sorry for bombarding you right as you walked in, but I've got a favor to ask," she said, "I've had a terrible day at work and could really use a smoke but I realized I'm all out." Mark knew she smoked and had occasionally seen her smoking over their shared fence, but how did she know he smoked? His look of surprise must have been obvious because she immediately continued, "I've seen you smoking occasionally in your back yard and figured you'd be the best person to ask."

Mark laughed realizing that if he could see her, she could probably see him when he went out for his occasional cigarette, trying to relax away the day's work. It was only a week ago that his other neighbor Chloe had come over and smoked for him and now he was going to get to watch his other gorgeous neighbor smoking up close, if that wasn't heaven he didn't know what was. He poured them both a drink and steered her to the back porch.

Knowing that a fix was coming, she seemed more relaxed now, more like the uber confident woman he knew. They sat next to each other at the patio table and Mark pulled out his cigarettes and took one before passing one to her. She leaned forward and he lit it for her while trying not to stare down at her cleavage and then lit his own. He'd had a rough day in the office as well and the first drag felt amazing. As she drew in that first deep drag her eyes fluttered closed for a moment before exhaling slowly with a sigh.

Their conversation started innocently enough, talking about the various drama around the neighborhood; the house around the corner finally sold, the Murphy's got a new dog, Deb and Jack are separating. Mark was surprised at that last one, he had thought Deb and Jack were great together but Rachel wasn't surprised, "She was always jealous that Jack would ogle at me at the summer block parties," she said with a smile, obviously happy with the thought of being admired.

She took another drag and Mark watched her, transfixed, as she held the cigarette to her lips. There was something intoxicating about her confidence, the way she slowly exhaled into the air. He tried to watch without being obvious but was quickly becoming aroused and shifted slightly in the chair to hide it. Rachel looked at him and caught him staring and a giant smile tugged at her lips.

She smoked with the grace of somebody who loved what she was doing and loved the attention it garnered. Rachel tilted her head slightly, her gaze locking onto Mark's with a knowing smirk. "You're staring," she said, her lips curving into a smile. She leaned forward just a fraction, her sundress rustling against the chair, drawing him in with the subtle invitation.

Mark felt his cheeks flush and he hesitated, torn between denial and honesty. In for a penny, in for a pound he thought; being honest about my fetish worked well enough with Chloe so why not try again. "I... yeah, I guess I am," he admitted, his voice low. The confession hung in the air but the way she held the cigarette so confidently stirred something primal within him. He continued, "I've always had a bit of a smoking fetish. I love watching a beautiful girl enjoy a cigarette and honestly, you look absolutely stunning when you smoke." Rachel arched an eyebrow, her expression shifting to one of intrigue.

He paused, gathering his thoughts, his eyes tracking the cigarette in her hand as she brought it to her lips again, the act so fluid and assured that it made his pulse quicken, "There's something about it. How it makes a woman look so sexy and powerful, you know? The way the smoke dances around her, like its part of her strength, her confidence. It's not just the habit; it's the control, the way it frames her in this aura of mystery and allure." As he spoke, his words tumbled out with a vulnerability that surprised even him, his gaze never leaving hers, the tension between them thickening like the smoke in the air.

Rachel's smile widened, a spark of interest igniting in her eyes. She took another slow drag, savoring the moment as if testing the truth of his words. She exhaled through parted lips, the tendrils curling upward in lazy spirals and leaned in closer. "You know, Mark, " she began, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "I've known you had a fetish for awhile. A girl notices when she's being stared at." Her eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and confidence's drawing him in. "Don't worry honey, your secret's safe with me," she said as she took another drag and blew it towards him this time, "Besides, I love the attention I get when I'm smoking, it's thrilling."

She paused, her gaze locking onto his intently, and then almost as an afterthought, she demonstrated with a fluid motion. Bringing the cigarette back to her lips, she inhaled deeply then drew the smoke in through her nostrils in a perfect French inhale. The movement was elegant, almost hypnotic. The smoke weaved around her features and Mark found himself mesmerized, his breath catching in his throat as he watched the way it accentuated the curve of her lips. "It's sexy, in a way that's hard to explain," she continued, "When I take that first drag, it's like a rush of freedom. It's not about the smoke itself, but the way it clings to me, making me feel desired, mysterious, like I'm the center of some secret ritual."

In that suspended moment, Mark's eyes traced the outline of her sundress, the fabric shifting subtly with her every breath. He was surprised to see how her nipples had hardened, pressing against the thin material like subtle peaks in the twilight. He shifted in his chair, the wooden frame creaking softly under his weight, trying to steady his racing thoughts. Rachel seemed oblivious to his scrutiny, or perhaps she wasn't, her expression softening into a knowing smile as she took another drag.

Rachel's gaze lingered on him and she tilted her head curiously and talked through her exhale. "I've dated a few men with a smoking fetish. It's so nice to get to smoke... whenever... I want, if you know what I mean. What about you, Mark?" she asked, her voice a gentle probe laced with a playful curiosity that sent a shiver down his spine. "Have you ever dated a smoker? I mean, really gotten close to someone who shared this little vice?" The question hung in the air and he could see the genuine interest in her eyes, the way her lips curved in anticipation of his response.

Mark felt a rush of vulnerability mixed with excitement. He hesitated for a moment, the memories surfacing before he nodded slowly, his voice emerging rougher than he'd intended. "Yeah, actually, my first girlfriend in college was a smoker," he admitted, his eyes dropping to the glowing end of his own cigarette as he took a drag, the familiar burn grounding him. "We met in a philosophy class and late-night study sessions turned into these intense talks under the stars. She'd light up while we made out, the smoke swirling around us. It was intoxicating, the way she'd exhale against my skin. But I was young and fairly shy and it never went any further than that. Eventually, life pulled us apart." He looked back up at her and continued, "I've had a couple of smoking girlfriends since then. But it's hard to find somebody who isn't disgusted by smoking. At least I thought it was".

Rachel leaned back slightly, the energy between them remained palpable but her cigarette was nearly spent. Her fingers trembled ever so slightly as she stubbed out the fading ember in the ashtray, the act deliberate and slow. Without breaking eye contact, she plucked another from the pack on the table, the flick of the lighter casting a brief, golden glow across her face. "You know, Mark, " she murmured, her voice a husky whisper that curled through the night air, "I've always loved the way smoking plays with men's minds. How it stirs something primal and makes their pulses race." She took a long, deliberate drag, her lips parting just enough to perform a sharp snap inhale. She exhaled in a tight, swirling cone that danced toward him, carrying with it the warm, acrid scent of possibilities.

As the smoke dissipated, Rachel's free hand rose to her shoulder, fingers tracing the thin strap of her dress. She slipped it down slowly, then the other, the fabric yielding to reveal her full, heavy breasts. Her hardened nipples stood out against the pale curves, aroused from the evening air or more likely their flirting. Mark stared, transfixed, as if the world had blurred into a dream. "Is this arousing you?" she asked, her tone laced with amusement as she cupped one breast in her hand, her thumb brushing over the sensitive peak with languid circles.

He swallowed hard, his body responding before his words could, a insistent throb in his cock straining against his jeans, making him shift uncomfortably in his chair. "God, yes," he admitted.

Emboldened by his response, Rachel took another drag, her exhale a slow, seductive stream that seemed to caress his skin from across the table. She massaged her breasts more firmly now, her fingers kneading the soft flesh and pinching lightly at her nipples until a soft gasp escaped her lips, her eyes never leaving his. Mark felt his heart pounding in his chest as he remained rooted in his chair, torn between the urge to reach out and the thrill of watching her.

Rachel's free hand trailed down from her breast, fingers lingering on the curve of her waist as she leaned back in her chair. Her eyes locked onto the obvious bulge straining against his jeans and smiled as she exhaled another plume of smoke, the scent of tobacco mingling with the musky tang of her arousal. "God, Mark, this must be absolute torture for you," she purred, her voice dropping to a sultry murmur that vibrated through him. Her gaze flicking downward to where his cock pressed insistently against the fabric, the outline of its thick shaft and swollen head impossible to ignore. "I can see how hard you are, how it's throbbing just from watching me. Do you love this? The way I'm putting on a show just for you, letting you drink in every inch?" Her words wrapped around him, making him feel both exposed and utterly alive as he nodded mutely. Mark shifted to stand up and move toward her but she shook her head, "No honey, you just watch."

With a deliberate slowness that heightened the tension, Rachel stubbed out her cigarette once more, the ashtray hissing softly as the ember died. Mark thought perhaps she was done with her exhibition, but she immediately reached for another from the pack. She drew deeply, the smoke filling her lungs as her other hand gathered the hem of her dress. She slowly drew it upward over her thighs revealing the smooth expanse of her pussy already slick and swollen with need.

The sight of her pink folds parting slightly to show the wetness gathering at her entrance made Mark's cock twitch painfully in his jeans. A bead of pre-cum dampened the fabric as he fought the urge to touch himself. Rachel exhaled slowly, the smoke curling around her as she moved her fingers between her legs, tracing the outer lips of her pussy with teasing circles, her touch deliberate and exploratory. She gasped at the first contact against her sensitive clit, the pressure rippling through her body. Her hips arched involuntarily and a soft, breathy moan filled the night air. Mark watched, transfixed, as she worked herself with increasing fervor.

In that suspended moment, Mark felt like he was hovering on the edge of heaven between the sight of her breasts heaving with each ragged breath and the wet sounds of her fingers sliding through her folds. Her nipples were taut and begging for more while her pussy glistened under the faint light. Every stroke of her fingers elicited a fresh wave of arousal that made his own body ache. He stayed put, his hands gripping the edge of his chair to anchor himself, afraid that any movement might shatter the spell. Rachel's fingers delved deeper into the slick folds of her pussy while her thumb circled her swollen clit with a slow, insistent pressure that made her thighs quiver. She lifted the cigarette to her lips once more, the ember flaring brightly in the dim light. The smoke filled her lungs with a familiar burn that seemed to sync with the heat building in her. She exhaled slowly, the hazy cloud drifting toward Mark like an invitation he couldn't accept.

"Fuck, Mark," she breathed, her voice low and ragged with arousal, "there's something so goddamn sexy about this... smoking while I fuck myself. It's like the smoke makes everything hotter, more intense, wrapping around me, making my cunt throb even harder. " Her words spilled out, each one punctuated by the wet, squelching sounds of her fingers plunging into her dripping hole, the obscene noise echoing in the quiet evening air. If Mark hadn't known the confident woman was an exhibitionist before he certainly did now.

Mark sat frozen, his knuckles white as they gripped the chair's edge, pre-cum continuing to leak into the fabric of his jeans. He could see every detail of her. The way her pussy lips parted around her fingers, the pink inner flesh slick and inviting, clenching rhythmically as she worked herself deeper. Her middle finger was now sliding in and out with a steady, deliberate thrust that mimicked the fucking he so craved. The scent of her arousal hung heavy in the air; a musky, intoxicating tang that mixed with the acrid smoke, filling his nostrils and making his mouth water with the urge to taste her.

"Look at how wet I am, Mark, " she groaned, her eyes locked on his, dark with lust, "it's all because of you, watching me like this, your big dick about to burst out of those jeans. God, I love how it feels, the smoke hitting my throat just as my fingers hit that sweet spot inside me, stretching me open, making me drip like a fucking faucet." Her hips bucked upward, meeting her hand's rhythm. The angle of her fingers changing slightly to rub against the ridged wall of her G-spot, sending jolts of electric pleasure through her body that made her gasp and moan.

As she took another long drag, her fingers pumped faster, the wet slap of skin on skin growing louder and more frantic. Her breasts heaved with each ragged breath, the soft flesh jiggling slightly with the force of her movements. "Oh shit, yes, " she hissed through the smoke, her voice breaking into a needy whimper, "smoking while I play with my pussy like this is so fucking dirty, so addictive." Mark could feel his balls tightening, the pressure building in his cock as he imagined burying himself inside her. But he continued to hold back, not wanting to break whatever unspoken rule she had put in place, even if the sight before him was enough to make his mouth go dry.

"Fuck, Mark, I'm so close," she panted, her words tumbling out between moans. The wet sounds grew more pronounced, a lewd chorus of slurps and squelches that filled the air. She brought the cigarette to her lips and dangled it there while her free hand flew to her breast, kneading the soft mound roughly, her nails digging in as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak.