Right After this Cigarette (A Short Story)

This story is for mature audiences only. You should be 18 if you're gonna continue...please.

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"Right After This Cigarette…"


I went outside on the balcony to smoke a cigarette.
Knowing I was ready.
Every step I made caused my juicy lips to rub together and the burning continued. Still, I took my time and lit up, wanting to prolong the torture.
Knowing that by the time I put my fingers in my heat and flicked my nipples with my thumbs I would orbit the sun.
I wore a comfortable old tank top; one of my husband’s that was soft and so thin it was see-through. My cotton drawstring pants were wide and full, barely touching my skin. Over it all, I threw a long wool sweater; opened in the front because I didn’t waste time with the buttons. I drew deep on the cigarette as my mind wandered to all the things I would do to myself when I got inside.
I longed to roll my nipples between my thumb and fingers.
The throbbing between my legs was distracting but so necessary to the buildup of this seduction…I had a date with myself and I was anxiously aroused. My free hand slipped under my sweater to graze my nipple gently. The fire in my pussy flared when I plucked it with my fingers. My head fell back as I teased my hard, aching nipple through the soft cotton material. I stopped, pulled on the cigarette again and blew out smoke, transferring the cigarette to the other hand so that I could strum the other hard nub with my fingers.
Oh, how I wanted to get inside so I could lie down and spread my legs to expose my hot, wet nanny to the air.
Still. I lingered.
I stood there, slowly bucking my hips while I tortured my nipples with my fingers.
I thought for a second about how it would feel to drop my pants and sit on a chair bare-assed in the frigging cold. The crisp wind would stroke me, stoke me to a heat which blazed hot, with blue-orange flames, and licked me like a lover.
Fuck that.
It was chilly and my baby wouldn’t appreciate his pussy with a cold. I squeezed my thighs together and flexed those secret muscles. My cigarette, almost forgotten, should almost be done by now. I pulled the smoke in again and removed my hands from my breasts. Opening my sweater so the cold air could harden my buds still more, I sat on the arm of a chair.
I straddled that shit with my legs and rocked forward, feeling the pressure on my clit.
Instantly, I brought my fingers back to my budded breasts and stroked gently.
Oh, this was good, but not the way I wanted to love myself to orgasm.
Pulling on the cigarette one last time I flicked it over the balcony and went inside. Closing the sliding panel door behind me, I hung my sweater over a chair and sat down on the big comfy couch. I brought both hands up to squeeze each nipple simultaneously, then alternately.
Simultaneously, then alternately made me wet hot...