Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The African Queen, file #9

   So far my counseling had brought me one hot night with a smoker.  Indeed
I had learned that a woman could turn me into a stallion by smoking hard
before, during and after sex.  But the one night stand had passed and for
quite a while I had to resort to giving myself five.  Things changed only
when Sheila sought my professional advice.  She came in one morning and
took place in front of my desk.  Without saying a word, she first took a
thin cigar out of her purse and set it alight.  She then took a couple of
king-size inhales before she started talking.  She was a tall attractive
Afro American, maybe thirty or a bit below.  Her face had the delicate
features and the olive complexion many Afros inherited from the odd white
ancestor.  In other words she was a real beauty.  She had straight
jet-black hair that fell gently on her shoulders.  She was more on the
heavy side, but her weight spread perfectly all over her body.  Strong yet
graceful arms, ample chest and broad hips added up to a voluptuous body. 
Only her waistline could have been more distinct and her belly did show a
bit.  She was dressed all black in a thin t-shirt and a skirt that just
reached her knees.  She had no bra under her shirt, but then she didn't
need one.  Her breasts looked as firm as they were big.  She spoke to me in
a deep throaty voice, hoarse from smoking, but terribly sexy.

   'Hi, I'm Sheila Jenkins.  I've heard people can talk to you about
smoking without getting the immediate advice to quit.'

   'Pleased to meet you, Sheila.  Yes, it's true.  I leave it up to
everybody to decide on their own.  I can only line out the facts as best as
I can.'

   'That's cool.  You see, I have a problem with my smoking.  I've started
real early, before I was ten and I loved it from the first cigarette.  As
my habit grew with age, I smoked more and more, till not even four packs of
filterless cigarettes each day could really satisfy me any more.  So I
dumped them for these cigars.  Now I smoke them for more than ten years and
I wouldn't give them up for anything in this world.'

   She took another lung-buster and blew the smoke right at me.  It did
smell a bit strong, but also spicy and somehow pleasant.  But I always have
liked the smell of any kind of smoke as long as it came out of a woman's
mouth.

   After a second cheek hollowing endless drag and the following inhale,
she went on talking the smoke in my direction.  My skin had started to
crawl as soon as I saw her with a cigar in her hand.  Now I had a stiff one
to go with it.

   'That, in a nutshell is both my heaven and my hell.  I can't abstain for
much longer than an hour and often I need to smoke in the middle of the
night.  That's fine with me so far and every one of them is a great treat.
What turns it into hell is the way men react to it.  My second best
pleasure after smoking is sex.  It's only that men turn away from me
because I smoke so much.  I don't see a way out.  I'd have to give up
either men or smoking.  I may find a woman looking for a masculine
counterpart, but I'm hetero to the bones.  I love to be kissed and fondled
by a man, not a woman and no tool can really replace a cock in flesh and
blood.' She said and took a lung-buster from her cigar.  Puffing smoke
while she talked she went on:

   I've tried it with smokers and non-smokers.  The problem is, I'm not
really in for smokers, but only a heavy smoker would not be disgusted by
the way I smell and taste.  As much as I love to smoke these and often
bigger ones, I get turned off by the same smell on a man.  My last one was
a moderate cigarette smoker and though he did his best to kiss me and make
me feel good, I could see it turned him off.  He wouldn't allow me to smoke
for hours if I wanted to have sex with him, else he wouldn't even get a
stiffy and he would accept only the doggie style, not to accidentally smell
my breath.  In the end we split, as it was no good anyhow.  Now I'm in a
fix.  How can I live on like this?  Am I supposed to marry my dildo and
wind up as an old spinster?'

   I nodded pensively to signal that I understood and was figuring it out,
while she lit another of her black beauties.

   'I see what the problem is.  I won't discuss your smoking, as it is part
of you and if you were to give it up, you would give away part of what you
are.  So the problem seems to be, how to find a man who would tolerate your
smoking.  One solution would be to seek for a man who has lost his sense of
smell, so he isn't bothered by the smoke and at the same time not an
anti-smoker.  The other way would be to search for a man who is actually
turned on by your smoking.'

   I could see how her brows lifted in disbelief.

   'You're not actually implying there are man out there who get turned on
by woman smoking cigars?  That's the weirdest thing I've ever heard.  I
mean I have heard of man turned on by all sorts of things, like feet,
stockings or shoes, but smoking?  What humbug is that supposed to be?  Is
that what you make your money on, sending people on a wild goose chase
after your concoctions?' she wanted to stand up from her chair, quite
angry. I went over to her and with my hand on her shoulder started to
soothe her.  It took quite a lot of self-control to send my buddy asleep.

   'Now please, don't get mad at me.  There are more things between man and
women than you dream of.  I assure you I know exactly what I'm talking
about.  Besides, if some men get turned on by peeing or worse, why not by
smoking?'

   She calmed down a bit and sat on the edge of her chair.  She smelled
intensely of cigars and it seemed that even her body had that peculiar odor
with the sweet-sour undertone, like nicotine and tar were oozing out of her
pores.  What an inebriating aura!  I was highly aroused already, dreaming
of getting this statuesque beauty in my arms.  I had no illusions though.
Women like her would rather mate with big strong men, not slouchy slobs
like me.  I have always been tall and thin, my hips broader than my
shoulders and my upper arms thinner than my lovers' ones.  Her arms were
definitely stronger than mine and so were her legs.  It didn't bother me at
all, but what about her?

   'So let's suppose for a while there are such men.  How am I supposed to
find one?'

   'OK, let's make some things clear.  I am no doctor or therapist,
therefore I am not bound by any rules or laws.  Still I must insist on one
point: as a rule I do not get involved with people seeking me up here.  I
want to make that clear, so you don't get any funny ideas.'

   She was growing impatient, not knowing where I aimed at.

   'You see I am myself what is generally referred to as a smoke fetishist.
I love to see women smoke and I love to smell that on their breath.  Thick
white spicy smoke flowing out of a woman's lips or nose drives me nuts.'

   She looked at me doubtfully.

   'Let's suppose for a minute you don't say this just for the sake of the
therapy or whatever you call what you usually take your money for.  I am
inclined to believe that it may be true for women smoking cigarettes.  Some
people do like the smell of a fine cigarette and I've heard man say they
find the way some women smoke and hold their cigarettes quite appealing. 
Still, I know these here smell disgusting to other people.  So how do you
want to convince me you're not lying?'

   'Well, that's not easy.  I fear you have to take my word for it.'

   An idea seemed to build up in her mind.  I prayed she was thinking of
what I hoped.

   'If you want to make me believe, you'll have to dump your principles and
prove it yourself!' she said with determination.  'If you kiss me and get a
hard one from it, I may be inclined to believe your phantasmagoria'

   Yuppieee, she had taken the bait.  She came over, the almost spent cigar
in her hand.  She took me by the arm, to lift me off my chair and I stood
there facing her.  With the hand that held the cigar she pushed my head
towards her face.  Her other hand fumbled round the zipper of my pants to
search my little buddy.  She gasped when she found him already half stiff.
Then she pressed her lips against mine and we started into a crushing
French kiss.  She forced my lips so wide apart, my jaws went numb.  Her
tongue covered mine, pushing it from side to side.  I smelled and tasted
the harsh but enchanting aroma of a dedicated cigar smoker on her and of
course I went into a frenzy.  My cock grew steel hard and I was trembling
from ecstasy, afraid to shoot off then and there.  After a while, she
needed to catch her breath and so did I.  Still holding my head from behind
and leaning into me, she just drew her lips a bit away and in a low raspy
whisper exclaimed:

   'Oh my god, you really enjoy this!  I must be dreaming!' then she kissed
me again.  This time she wasn't testing me.  Her kiss grew softer but
sweeter.  My knees felt like pudding and I was in seventh heaven.  The
taste!  The smell!  And above all that beautiful body!  Big, firm and
voluptuous.  Her breasts were pressing hard against my chest and her hard
nipples stabbed my chest thru the thin fabric of her t-shirt.  My hands
slid up and down her back, down to those big round buttocks.

   She withdrew her head just a little to take a drag on her cigar, then
with the smoke still deep inside her, she kissed me again, hard and
demanding now.  The smoke drifted slowly out of her nostrils and she blew
it also into my mouth.  I could feel the patch of wetness between her legs.
Finally she stepped back and stubbed out the rest of her cigar.  Then she
simply pulled her t-shirt over her head, exposing a pair of breasts that
made me gasp.  They where incredible!  Big, and of perfect round shape, the
nipples huge and almost black against the olive skin, they waited to be
fondled and sucked.  She ripped my shirt open, while I fought with the
buckle of my belt.  With the other hand she stripped down her skirt and
revealed a black tuft of wiry curled hair from which emanated the sweetest
perfume.

   I got my pants down too and she stretched on the floor, inviting me to
cover her up with my body.  But there was something to be done before that.
I took a cigar from the box she had left on the table and her lighter, lit
it and gave it to her.  She stared at me with mild surprise, and then a
broad smile lit up her entire face.  Now I lowered myself over her and
rammed my bursting cock into her wetness.  I could feel how she contracted
her vaginal muscles to envelope my cock.  I started ramming into her with
all the force I could bring up.  In her low rasp voice she groaned and
moaned between thirsty drags on her cigar, spreading clouds of dense white
smoke round my head.

   Finally she took the cigar in her mouth and covering my buttocks with
her palms she pushed and dragged to make me ram her harder and harder, till
she cried out in ecstasy and went on uttering shrill sounds of delight,
till I spurted out endlessly, my cock twitching till the last drop came out
of me.

   I collapsed exhausted over her big body, resting on her, chest over
chest, belly over belly, leg over leg.  I nibbled at her earlobe while she
smoked away on her battered cigar, her chest lifting me up with each
inhale. Then I kissed those big full lips again, tasting the tar on her
tongue, smelling the harsh and bitter delicious smoke till my cock swelled
once again inside her, making her shiver with pleasure and we continued
where we had stopped before, ramming and rubbing our bodies against each
other, swimming in our perspiration, till she climbed the plateau again,
riding on wave over wave of her orgasm, breathing smoke in and out like
oxygen, till I too reached nirvana again, this time with a ferocious
intensity.

   Once again I collapsed and slipped sideways to the floor, unable to
catch my breath for endless minutes.  I hardly noticed her sitting up and
reaching for another cigar.  She bent over me, still naked and blew smoke
into my face.  I inhaled deeply from that cloud of dense blue-white smoke
and that revived me a bit.  One of her nipples touched my chest, sliding up
and down while she expanded her chest to suck in the tasty smoke of her
cigar.  Then she gave me a soft kiss on my lips and said:

   'You sure know how to give good advice.' a big grin spread all over her
face.  'Is this a limited offer, or can I get a subscription?' she asked
with a wink of her eye.

   'I think I can arrange for a free subscription.' I answered, grinning
too.  She sure had a good sense of humor.  She gave me another peck on my
lips, while blowing a thin stream of smoke in my face.

   'You sure must be some pervert, to get hot over a fat old stinking cow
like me.' she went on teasing.

   'That's me ma'm' I said with a mock salute.

   We went on teasing and laughing while she chained her cigars.  I loved
the way she would sometimes cough and clear her throat and the smell of her
breath made my head swim.  I couldn't resist kissing her again and again
and touching her body up and down.  She couldn't keep her hands and lips
off my body either.

   We spent the rest of the day on that carpet, occasionally starting
another round of ramming, groaning and screaming, till we were too
exhausted to go on.  We washed each other in the little cubicle that went
for a bathroom and she left with the promise to get together as soon as we
could.  The carpet was soaked with perspiration and worse.  I wondered
briefly what the maid would say.

   After she left, I sat there, limp and drained of power, thinking it
over. I had spent a night with my first real smoking customer and that had
been a memorable experience.  To me it had meant a sort of crash-course in
the art of fucking.  We hadn't left out many positions.  This time it had
been different.  No fancy stuff, no pills, just straightforward missionary
style smoking sex.  True enough, of the two Sheila had the sexier body and
face too.  She was also younger.  Then of course she had been smoking
exclusively cigars and smoking them in earnest, inhaling them.  Maybe
because Sheila was much more attractive in my eyes and younger, I had only
needed simple sex to get satisfaction.  And her smoking helped of course.
She did indeed come back a week later, but only to tell me that she had,
encouraged by my advice, found a guy who like me indulged in her smoking.
To say I was disappointed would have been a lie.  I had offered her to come
back for more smoky sex on an impulse, but in the long run it was better
that way.
   End of File