Gentle readers: I once again am focusing on continuing my highest rated stories and responding to your comments -- this niche smoking fetish is clearly very appealing to a select few and I offer the latest installment for your consideration and enjoyment. I hope you like.
Gilded by the morning sun, the hive of the city stirred, bustling and humming with every beat of working life - and there in the middle of it all was the office that Karen Reed commanded. A spectacular high-rise of steel and glass that spoke of infinite possibilities and corporate power, it stood majestically amongst compeers, reflecting the ambitions of its occupants. Inside this kinetic space, she moved with an effortless rhythm of routine, her stilettos clicking on the polished marble floor, her blue dress perfectly accentuating her lithe figure, mirroring the perfect balance of aesthetics and authority.
Karen's office was a sanitized universe unto itself. Her sleek mahogany desk, strewn with endless stacks of architectural plans and contracts, rested on the snow-white carpet, a stark contrast that quite appropriately depicted the duality of her world. Her eyes, painted a bewitching shade of emerald, darted meticulously over lines of figures, her forehead wrinkling subtly with every discrepancy she discovered. She was the financial consultant who held the reins to the top firms in the city - a daunting task, handled with aplomb, thanks to her sharpened instincts and analytical mind.
Her professional life was a creative dance of survival in a world governed by numbers. To the outsiders, she might have appeared ruthless, her eyes always on the proverbial prize. But Karen knew that this world was not just about the survival of the fittest; it was also about those who dared to tread the path less taken. Amidst the chaotic semblance of invoices, accounts, and actuarials, she found her harmony, she found purpose. She thrived off the sheer unpredictability, the high risks, and the adrenaline of it all. Dressed in corporate armor and armed with a strategic mind, she wrestled with challenges, breathing life into firms, turning around deficits and ensuring they danced to her tunes of profitability. For Karen, it wasn't just a job, it was the art and science of managing money, it was the power to mold the lives of the countless people connected within the ambit of the corporate sphere. She was not just the face of financial consultancy; she was the cornerstone who had made possible many a dream among the glass towers of this city's skyline.
At the simple age of 32, Karen Reed was anything but ordinary in a world that veered from idolizing the quirky to the impeccable. This creature of beauty had a knockout girl-next-door appeal that left most men intrigued. Karen's countenance bore the sweet innocence of a porcelain doll -- a tranquil river of setting honey, pure and radiant, emanating the glow of a sun-kissed summer day.
An artist would find inspiration within her features, spirally golden curls cascading graciously onto her shoulders, framing an expressive face where laughter lines implied tales of happiness. Her petite, rounded nose flaunted a permanent, jovial tilt that didn't waver irrespective of the situation. Her lips bore the beautiful shape of cupid's bow, painted with the sweet hues of ripened berries, always curved in a kind and welcoming smile.
As she parsed through yet another contract, her mind wandered back to last week's date with Dan, and she really came to better understand his fetish for women who smoke. While both of their schedules precluded another date, the daily text exchanges underscored how much they both enjoyed their time together and were anxiously awaiting the next rendezvous. Since that intense date, she hadn't even had time to enjoy a cigarette, which she thought was good, since she didn't want to become addicted. None of her colleagues or friends would really understand it, and the idea of being a closet smoker sent a delicious thrill down her spine. Just thinking about it made her want to light up, though it was impossible to avoid detection at work.
Still...maybe she could indulge a bit. Checking that her door remained closed, she reached for her purse and quickly found the opened pack of Marlboro Gold, the same pack Dan had brought over last week. She pulled one out, stuck it between her red lips, then grabbed her phone. With the cigarette dangling from the middle of her mouth, she snapped a selfie. She quickly texted Dan, attaching the picture, and smiled as she hit send. Laying her phone down, she put the cigarette between two carefully manicured fingers. Staring at the narrow cylinder clutched perfectly between her fingers, she suddenly had an urge to light it, take a deep drag and fill her lungs with smoke.
She snapped out of her reverie when her phone went off -- Dan, she smiled. She put the cig down and answered.
"Hey, you," she said.
"Goddamn, you made me SO hard right now with that text," he replied in an excited tone. Her smile grew.
"I'm glad. Was just thinking about how much you arouse me," she said, "and I wanted to tease you with something I know makes you extra hard." She picked up the cigarette and ran it lengthwise slowly under her nose, enjoying the sweet smell of tobacco. Dan grunted appreciatively.
"Like no one else, babe. You drive me crazy!"
"Even when I'm not smoking?" she teased.
"Of course," he assured her, "the smoking is just a big, sexy, bonus."
Suddenly, her office door burst open. Caught off guard, she quickly hid the cigarette behind her back, her heart pounding.
Standing in the doorway with a big grin on his face was her old college friend and now business rival, Jason Wright. "Karen! I hope I'm not interrupting," he chirped cheerfully, clearly unaware of what he had just walked into. His eyes scanned the room and landed on her. She mustered a smile, "Not at all, Jason. Just wrapping up a call," she concluded, swiftly ending the conversation with Dan.
As Jason stretched out his hand for a friendly shake, Karen discreetly slipped the unlit cigarette back into her purse. Her focus then shifted back to Jason and his sudden unexpected visit, leaving her little time to wonder about the array of reactions that awaited her from Dan. The test she had opened to her world had been merely a step, a walk on the wilder side of her life, a side she'd now have to wait to explore further. Her little secret remained safe - for now.
Her day went quickly after that, her head lost in contracts and analysis. Leaving, she walked to the parking garage alone and jumped into her black Acura. Reaching in her purse to check her keys, her hand brushed over the cigarette pack. She paused, feeling a now familiar urge. She wanted to smoke. She pulled a cigarette from the pack, glanced around nervously, and started the car. Could she? Her car was pristine, not a speck of dust or smell inside. Wouldn't this spoil that?
Karen pulled slowly out of the garage, hand clutching the cigarette on her lap as she turned onto the street. After a few turns, she made it to the highway and lifted the cigarette to her lips.
The freeway stretched out in front of her, an asphalt ribbon slicing through the gathering twilight, raw and defiant under the bruised sky. Mouth dry, heart tripping in her chest, Karen made a silent pact with the universe before she lit the cigarette. It wasn't defiance. No, she had exhausted that emotion long ago. Perhaps it was just a sliver of rebellion, a quiet casting off of self-imposed shackles that called out for an act as mundane, yet liberating, as lighting up a smoke in her own, pristine car.
As she held the small, cylindrical vixen between her fingers, the pristine, untouched pearl of her car's interior was the last thing holding her back. But there was a rebellious edge to Karen that day, a flicker of the woman she once was, wild and uncompromising. That flicker sparked into life as she snapped her lighter to the end of the cigarette, its delicate wisp of smoke spiraling upwards, weaving threads of rebellion into the tight tapestry of her life.
