Smoking May Cause Damage

Yesterday, Love was a bit tired. He had had very much work to do in the past weeks and even though I tried my best to help him recreate, he was just wiped out. I made something special for dinner yesterday and afterwards John wanted to watch T.V., drink a glass of wine and smoke a cigar. He is not a regular smoker, but every now and then he enjoys a cigar. When he sat there, I tried to focus on the T.V., but I failed. He’s so damn sexy when he’s smoking. It’s not neccesarily that I think about having passive oral sex with him, but it’s just his behaviour and his gestures. Of course I could not hide my thoughts and he saw my expression, but he did not say anything. He had me refill his glass and pretended not to witness my increasing interest in him. A thought came up in my mind. “Uhm, Sir, sorry for interrupting, but I have just thought about a thing I saw on the web.” He allowed me to tell him. I had seen a Dom putting the ashes from his cigarette into his sub’s hands. “Oh come on, that’s damn boring”, John delivered his judgement. He waited a moment, then added “It’d be more interesting to put the ashes right into your mouth. Might be you’ll then learn to keep it shut while I watch T.V.”. Ugh, yes, might be. Then again, he just kept smoking and pretending not to literally hear my question whether or not I should get down on my knees next to him and open my mouth.

See, with cigars and cigarettes I have my difficulties. My father used to smoke and he stubbed out his ashes on my skin. I somehow got used to it, but of course it hurt every single time. It was meant to hurt. He threatened me by telling me he could put a lit cigarette in my eye and he even did that to my tongue, my nipples and my genitals. I hated his smell after smoke and sweat. But then again, Julian was a smoker, too, and I don’t know why, but he smelled and tasted good, some kind of manly and strong. I myself do not smoke. I have tried it, but I did not like it. It did no good to my lungs and I did not like the taste and the way my skin and clothes smelled afterwards. All in all, smoking is a bit of a double-edged sword for me.

When John suggested, he might put his ashes right into my mouth, he could be sure I felt pleasure and a bit of fear at the same time. Pleasure due to my submissive affection and fear because of my past. And by not replying to me, he stretched my exertion. He took a few more sips from his wine, then decided “Come here and take it”. I knelt before him, while he opened his zipper and put his cock into my mouth. I wanted to work on him, but he told me to just keep still, while he kept smoking, drinking wine and watching T.V. That’s hard, you know. I fancy his cock and I fancy giving him BJs, and feeling him inside my mouth without moving is demanding. A bit later, Love finished his cigar, and when the broadcast was over, he just kept still and did nothing. The worst part of being submissive. I moved my tongue a bit to tease him. Immediately he slapped my cheek. “Didn’t I tell you to keep still?” I nodded and simultaneously felt growing arousal. I like being hit in the face. I think it’s the ultimate degradation.

John took the newspapers and began reading. My jaws started to hurt. Keeping still in this position is like the essence of being a sub. Your knees hurt, your jaws hurt, your cock is pulsing against your pants, you got your Master deep inside of you, but he keeps you from all the pleasurable things you could do. Love took his time finishing the newpapers and his glass of wine, then looked at me and began caressing my face which was very exciting. “You’re such a poor guy, waiting there, aren’t you?” He smiled. “I’m sure you’d like to suck me off?” I nodded while he kept stroking me. He smiled again. “I’m sorry, son, not today”. He let his cock slip out of my mouth and took a streak of my hair to wipe it dry. I wanted to sit up, but he told me to stay and watch, while he began masturbating. I know it’s weird, but being kept from pleasing him hurts. Several times he put his cock near my mouth, only to take it back again. When he was near to the peak he asked me “You want to eat it?”. Of course I wanted! But then the laughed and took the ashtray. He shot his full wad on the ashes. I felt sad and rejected, but somehow liked it. After he had cum, he allowed me to lick his cock clean and then again keep it in my mouth.

We sat there for a while and when John had calmed down a bit, he again began stroking my hair and face. “Ok, son, make it hard again”. I looked up and he smiled lovingly. I did as he told me. To me, it’s just beautiful to pleasure my Love. When he had a stiffy, he told me to stop and straighten up. When I did, he handed the ashtray to me. “Lick it up and keep it in your mouth. Don’t dare swallowing a drop! Don’t spill!”. I did as he told me and as soon as my tongue hit the ashes, I asked myself whether that really was a good idea, because it tasted quite awful. Love jockeyed me to the couch, kneeling. He lowered my pants and found my hard dick, but did not pay any attention to it. When he slid into me, I wanted to sigh in relief, but I could only moan quietly due to the mixture of ashes and his cum inside my mouth.

He bagan pounding me, but I felt like I could not enjoy it to the max because I could not open my mouth and utter my excitement. After a while, my mouth was full because of the splittle I could not swallow, but Love just kept fucking me, keeping me from full pleasure. When he had cum, he told me to keep kneeling, putting his empty wine-glass under me and catching all of his cum. Then he held the glass under my mouth and told me to spit everything I had collected in my mouth into the glass. It was not an eye candy. “Help yourself”, he demanded and handed the jar to me. “Don’t waste a drop”. I did as he told me and masturbated until I climaxed, then carefully collected my sap into the glass. “Well done”. He put it aside, pretending not to recognize my questioning face. I crawled up inside his arms and we lay there for a whole while. I had begun to think that John had forgotten about the glass, when he said “It’s bedtime”, but when I wanted to get up, he held me back. “Wait, precious. You’ve fogotten the dishes”. He handed to glass to me. “Clean it up”.

Ugh! Warm juices are one thing, but chilled juices are another! I have no other word to describe it: pestilent! I tried my best to swallow it down quickly, but of course a lot remained inside the glass. John had me lick it all clean, the remains by helping myself with my fingers. When I was finished and he saw my face, he broke out in laughter. “Well, they’re true: smoking may cause damage to your health!”. Yeah.


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