Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

You can’t fucking smoke anywhere anymore. Soon, you honestly will not be able to smoke anywhere without a huge fine and possible imprisonment. Tracey’s has become that way already. The moment you light a cigarette, ninety percent of the bar is wrinkling their noses and waving their hands around. I’ve given up trying. I simply sneak outside when I want a smoke. It’s much easier to shiver on the sidewalk than deal with people who look at you as if you’ve just smothered their grandmother with a pillow.

I was bouncing my leg maniacally and thinking over the shunning of smokers when Celie introduced me to Blake. Blake. Fucking tall, blonde, green eyed Blake. Shoulders like a linebacker, pecs I wanted to fondle and a stomach that, through his shirt, appeared as if I could wash my weekly laundry on and he wouldn’t mind a bit.

“Blake this is Emma.”

I shook hands, stifling the overwhelming craving to light a cigarette and inhale deeply. To feel that buzz in my head. Certainly, I could put it off just a while longer with such a fine specimen of man in front of me. I eyed his faded jeans and the way they fit him. I clenched my hands into antsy fists under the table. Addiction is a bitch.

Blake, the god, handed me a beer and leaned in. “You okay?”

“Fine. Fine! Why do you ask?”

“You look like you might crawl out of your skin. Is it me. Do I offend?”

I instantly recognized the classic line from Pretty in Pink and laughed. “No. Not at all. You are a lovely drinking companion. I’m just…”

How very embarrassing.

“Craving a cigarette so bad you might start hallucinating?”

My mouth popped open and then I heard a long string of silver laughter escape me. “My god. Do you fucking smoke?”

Blake nodded and laughed. “I do. You sound surprised.”

“I am. I didn’t take you for a smoker.”

“Because?”

“You are so-- I have no idea. Non-smokerish.”

He raised an eyebrow and my stomach bottomed out. “And you are?”

“I smoke.”

“So do I.”

I shrugged. “I guess I feel like such a pariah most of the time, I figure I’m the only one left in the state. Possibly the world.”

This earned me a laugh and a flash of perfect white teeth. “Nope. I’ll show you my membership card if you like. Now…”

He leaned in close and like metal drawn by a magnet, I leaned in to meet him. He smelled like man. A mysterious mix of leather and spice and a hint of, yes, tobacco. I inhaled deeply, forgetting that he was focused on me and I possibly looked insane. “Now what?” I sighed out on my deep breath.

“How about we go outside and have a cigarette? I know this place isn’t officially smoke free yet, but it looks like they might get an impromptu lynch mob together if we dared to light up.”

“True story,” I sighed. I grabbed my purse and stood. I waved to Celie who was at the bar chatting up a tall, lean, dark haired man who made me think of vampires. I mimed smoking and pointed to the door. Waved my hand over the table as if doing a magic trick to make sure she knew to keep her eye on our drinks. I got the thumbs up and turned right into Blake’s big, broad chest. “Ooph.”

“Sorry. I thought you knew I was right behind you.”

I allowed myself one second, just one second, to run my hand over his chest. Let myself touch the faded soft polo he was wearing. Once it had been red, now it was verging on pink. It’s true what they say; real men do wear pink. “I…uh. I’m ready.”

We slipped out into the night. A warm night clouded with fog. The sound of traffic somehow close but feeling distant due to the cotton batting of the fog. Out under the vaporous light of the nearest street lamp, Blake took my hand. “Let’s go to the back. There’s a fence back there we can sit on.”

“All the way back?” I asked.

“You afraid of me?” he laughed and tugged my hand. I liked the large warmth of his hand covering mine. I liked the way my body tingled like I was being slowly electrocuted. My heart jumped a few times in my chest, found it’s rhythm, but continued to beat a little faster than normal.

“Not afraid. It just seems an awful long way to smoke a cigarette,” I teased. Of course I would walk back and sit on the decrepit, collapsing, wooden fence with him. I would have sat in the middle of the freeway to smoke if he asked me.

“Then we’ll smoke a few. Get a reserve going.” His laughter bled into the night before being snatched away by the thickened air.

Our footsteps echoed on the wet macadam. The noise from Tracey’s felt somehow surreal. Like a TV in another room set to low. A subtle backdrop of sound to the overly loud sound of us walking. Fighting the urge to light up, I sighed, my breath blowing out of me, a white peony that hovered in the air.

We passed the ghostly hulks of cars and SUVs and all of it effected me. The weather, the dark, the feeling of being alone with him. The feeling hummed through me and a growing wetness spread between my thighs. I clenched them tightly together for a moment to try to stop it. There was no reason to think this was anything but a shared smoke break.

“Here we go. Nice comfortable smoking zone,” he chucked and dropped my hand. He settled against the sagging wooden slat and dug in his jean pocket for his smokes. I already had mine in my mouth.

The lighter jumped to fiery life and his face, painted orange and yellow, glowed. I studied his high cheekbones, his long, thin nose. Features I might have ignored in a well lit bar but now found fascinating. He looked like a sculpture. When he lit my cigarette, I took a deep breath letting the nicotine rush shoot through me like a brush fire.

“You’re pretty. I mean really fucking pretty,” he said. There was no pretense. Just the statement delivered with an easy smile.

I shrugged. Never one to be comfortable with compliments. I didn’t know what to say beyond, “Thanks.”

He nodded, settled back against the dilapidated fence and blew a smoke ring. A perfect smoke ring. Something I had never been able to do. I watched it float softly away.

“Why do you think Celie introduced us?”

Another shrug. I had no idea. Most likely to put an end to my ‘loser parade’ as she so kindly put it. “Maybe she thought there would be sparks.”

“At least smoke,” he said and blew another perfect ring. This one ebbed toward me like a jelly fish. Then it broke across my face and I blinked. I laughed and said, “I love that song.”

“What song?”

“Smoke Gets In Your Eyes.” I started humming it and he hummed along. “My dad loved the Platters.”

Another nod, a shift on the fence, faded jeans settling in all the right places. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

“What?”

“When I was in high school they said if you blew smoke in someone’s face it meant you wanted to fuck them.”

A shiver trickled down my spine and I clenched my thighs tight again to stave off the increasing moisture and persistent thump of my cunt. He seemed to be saying nothing but communicating everything and it made me uneasy and excited all at once.

“Do you? Want to fuck me? Is that why we’re here?” I moved one step closer to him to prove I wasn’t afraid. Now, if he reached out he could grab me.

“If I said yes would that make me a bad guy? Someone who showed up simply expecting to get laid. Because I didn’t. I figured I’d come have a drink and humor Celie and call it a night.”

“So what changed your master plan?” I asked, my voice a little breathy.

“You were here. I wasn’t expecting you. And I don’t even know you but…” he trailed off and blew a series of perfect rings that marched toward me on the air.

I took another step forward and stuck my face into the rings on purpose. Making them bust apart across my cheeks and forehead. My eyes watered and I blinked. Then his hands were on me, pulling me forward into the firm v of his denim clad legs. I settled there for the kiss that I knew would come. I rocked my hips into his and felt his hard cock through soft jeans. I kissed back at his warm soft lips and opened my mouth to let his tongue in and then sucked it gently. Blake moaned into my mouth and the vibration set off tiny shock waves under my skin. My nipples so hard they nearly hurt, my belly fluttering with the urge to touch him.

Then I was being propelled. Forcibly moved so that my back slammed the splintery rung of the old fence. It bit through my cotton top and pricked at the sensitive skin of my lower back. Somehow the sparkly pain made the insistent clenching of my cunt that more intense. My body was so ready for him it worked and clutched at nothing. Nothing but its own moisture and my cotton thong. My insides ached with hollowness. I wanted to be filled.

I grabbed at his fly. Yanked at the top button and pulled so the rest of the buttons let go with soft pops. He arched against my hand. His own blind need pushing him into my willing grasp.

Blake lifted me a bit, slammed by back against the post. The post would not crack and break. The post bit into the spot between my shoulder blades and I struggled for air. Lost somewhere between the sweet urgent need and the pain. His hands dug into my jeans, squirmed under my panties, and found my hot wet flesh. One finger invaded me, two fingers and I arched up to let him go deeper. Hoping against hope he would add a third. Instead, he pulled his hand free and grappled with my button. I shimmied my hips to help him get my jeans and panties down.

Down on his knees, he pushed his face into my pussy. Split my outer lips with his wet tongue and found my clit and sucked it hard. I grabbed his hair with my fingers, pulled at him, not caring if I hurt him or not. I forced my cunt against his face and felt his rigid tongue slide into my opening. My breath a pulsating vapor in the already dense night.

“Please,” I said. I didn’t care that I sounded desperate. I pulled his hair and he came to his feet. I shoved his jeans around his lean hips and opened myself for him. Hooked on ankle around his waist to draw him in.

He slid into me on one long stroke. Grabbed the fence post with both hands, binding me against the wood with his big arms.

“Fuck,” he sighed and bent his head to my throat. Licking softly at first, then nipping, then biting as he slammed into me. The sounds of his cock penetrating me loud in my ears.

“Harder,” I sighed and pushed up against him. Seeking the full length of his cock inside of me. I had been reduced to this need and one word sentences.

I licked at his throat tasting his skin and sweat. My shoulders ached but my sex ached harder as his brutal thrusts slammed his flesh against my swollen clit. The pressure was building. That sweet intense throb of orgasm. I wanted to clutch at him, run my hands along the hard planes of his chest and belly but I was bound.

“Are you…” he grunted and I nodded dumbly and then remembered to speak.

“Right there,” I sighed and let myself go. Let my body fall into that sweet surrender. I came with a cry that the night seemed to throw back at me.

Blake fucked me harder. His rhythm urgent, his arms tighter around me and the post and he came with a growl. His heart beat against my breast was erratic.

We stayed that way for a moment. Half naked, joined cock to cunt, up against the fence. Then he helped me find my jeans. My panties had somehow wandered off.

He kissed me and grinned.

“What?” I thought I would feel awkward but I didn’t. I felt alive and charged and suddenly very comfortable.

“Want a cigarette?” he asked and shook the pack until one rose.

I took it. The lighter jumped to life again and we smoked. In silence. Finally, we wandered back toward the club. The music growing louder as we approached.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked softly then laughed. He held the door open for me.

“Of course,” I said and laughed too.

“You know we might have to come back out after that drink. Drinking makes me want a cigarette.”

I nodded, waving back to Celie who was dancing on the dance floor. “I know,” I said, “you can’t fucking smoke anywhere any more.”