I remember watching my mother smoke cigarettes when I was a boy. I think that's how it started, my fetish. I've always found smoking attractive. I would sit in her room while she smoked, watching the smoke as it curled out of the lit end and through the filter. Sometimes it would spill out and linger, then rise to the ceiling where it would dissipate, sometimes it would be trapped by the ashtray and drift around the room, collecting on the curtains and the lampshade, only to be carried away when she opened a window.
I remember the sound, that gentle click as she took the cigarette from her mouth, the light crunch of the filter as she removed it, the pop of her lips as she took it out and flicked into the ashtray, the exhaled breath which clouded around her face. I remember how it felt to watch her smoke; it seemed so sensual, so sexy, so ... feminine.
As she grew older she started smoking more often. I don't know when I first became aware of the fact I was getting turned on by her smoking. Perhaps it was when I started masturbating to her smoking. I first saw her naked one night in her room, cigarette in hand while taking long drags as she played with her surprisingly shaved pussy. I watched her as she pinched her nipple and rolled it between her fingers. Her cigarette moved with her hand, her fingers seemed to glide around it, caressing it, but it never came close to touching her bare flesh.
It wasn't long before she would offer to let me come out to the porch when she was smoking. She would let me sit with her, letting me inhale her scent, watch her smoke, listen to her tell me all about the day's events.
She was a beautiful woman, chubby but with curves in all the right places. Her eyes were dark, almost black, and they sparkled when she was laughing. Her hair was blonde and she had a cute little nose. She looked like a character from a comic book, only she was real and she was my mother.
She loved dressing up, she had a collection of high quality clothes that she kept for special occasions only. Most days she would be dressed in a skirt, blouse and heels or stockings and suspenders. Sometimes she would wear a suit jacket, but other than that she kept things casual.
One evening as we sat drinking tea as she was having a smoke she said:
"Do you know that your father has been trying to get me to quit smoking?"
I was surprised. "Really?" I replied. "I've never known him to care before."
"Yes, he thinks I should stop, not just because of my health, but because I'm harming my body."
"And what do you think?" I asked.
"I think it's ridiculous. Smoking is a way of life for me now. If I stop I'll just have another bad habit to replace it."
"So you're going to keep smoking?" I asked.
"Of course," she said, taking a deep drag. "But he keeps telling me that it's bad for my health."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"I just want you to know that your father cares about me."
"Does he love you?" I asked.
"Of course he loves me," she replied. "But he's always wanted to change me into a different person."
"What does he want you to change?"
She looked at me as if I'd said something rude. "You're asking too many questions," she said. And with that, I dropped the topic.
One night when I was alone in my room playing on my computer I decided to find some porn on the internet. I wasn't looking for anything specific but as I clicked through the pages of ads I noticed there were a lot of ads for smoking fetish sites.
I started to wonder why I had never considered the fact that my mother was a smoking fetishist before. She had a nice, long cigarette every time we sat down to relax. And as I was watching the images flashing on the screen I thought back to that evening I snuck a preview of her masturbating while smoking. It made me horny just thinking about it.
That night when my parents went out for the evening I went online and searched for some smoking porn. It wasn't hard to find. There were thousands of pictures and videos of people smoking, mostly women, but there were plenty of guys too. I watched some videos as I stroked my cock until I came all over my computer keyboard. Then I searched for some videos of incest between mom and son.
One of them featured a beautiful woman sitting on her son's face while smoking a cigarette. She would occasionally take a drag and then hold it in while grinding on her sons face. He loved it, moaning in pleasure. After a while she lifted up his head and took a long drag which she exhaled slowly into his mouth, then she would turn around and suck his dick. He came all over her face and tits and she cleaned up his cum with her tongue as she finished off her cigarette
Another video featured a woman who looked like my mother giving her son a blowjob while he smoked. I had never considered smoking myself, but watching this... it made me crave it. I knew then that I would have to find a way to get my mother to teach me how to smoke a cigarette.
***
The following week I made plans to go stay at my friend's house for the weekend. He lived about twenty miles from where my parents lived, but he also had a pool so it would be a lot more fun than staying home.
When I arrived my friend's dad was there too, waiting to meet me. He was a big man, well built and muscular, with thick blond hair and a large bushy beard. When he smiled his eyes crinkled up and he had a wide dimpled smile. He shook my hand and said hello.
When I got inside I immediately saw an ashtray sitting on the kitchen table. My friends mother was sitting there reading a novel, while enjoying a Marlboro Red. She glanced up from her book and gave me a friendly wave and ashed her cigarette into the ashtray. I noticed that her knuckles were stained yellow from the nicotine and immediately knew she was an addict too.
My mother sat down at the table pulling out her own cigarettes, and taking one out of the pack to light it. She took a long deep drag as she leaned back into her chair, crossing her legs. She held her cigarette up to her lips as she blew out smoke in front of her face. The air around her smelled of smoke and the sweet tang of tobacco. She inhaled deeply then closed her eyes and let out a long sigh of pleasure.
I was mesmerized by the sight of my mother smoking. She had on a green crop top that hugged her curves, and black jeans that rode low on her hips and flared out at the bottom. She wore a pair of red high-heeled ankle boots. She looked incredibly sexy sitting there smoking, but she also looked tired and stressed out, which was unusual for my mother.
My friend and I went into the living room to play on his new game console but I listened in on the kitchen. My mom was discussing marital problems with my father.
"It's just that I need a little excitement in my life," she said. "You know I can't live like this forever."
She lit up cigarette after cigarette complaining about my father to my friend's mom.
"He's always working so much and I don't even know what he's doing half the time. I don't have any friends or hobbies anymore, he barely lets me see my friends anymore."
My friend's mom nodded in agreement.
"I know," my mother sighed. "He's always telling me that he doesn't trust me and he doesn't know why I married him in the first place."
My friend's mom said that she understood and then she told my mother that she was lucky to have her.