Smoking For Money Pt 03

My name is Ali, and last week I fucked on camera for the first time. It never occurred to me that when I became a smoking fetish model to earn tuition money that I would end up doing hardcore porn. What shocked me even more, was that deep down, the experience had been incredibly erotic and thrilling for me.

However, it was likely only a matter of time before my video showed up on the open web, and then my family and friends would know that I was doing porn. The shame and embarrassment was almost too much to bare.

On the other hand, I had made $11,000 for a couple hours of work, which would allow me stay in school, but I might have just ruined my reputation and future prospects for going to law school upon graduation. There was also the possible impact on my career as an attorney.

I had agreed to another shoot, one that was far more risqué than the previous one; however, I had no intention of showing up for it. I lay in bed, missing class again, with the covers pulled over my head. I was craving cigarette, but smoking reminded me of what I had done.

My smartphone vibrated again. I had stopped answering it this morning because today was the next shoot, and I didn't want to be sweet-talked into another one. My eyes were red from crying—to the point that it felt like I had no tears left. Suddenly, I heard a loud pounding on my dorm room door.

"Ali, it's Pete, please let me in, so we can talk!" he said.

Shit, Pete was my "co-star" and cameraman from the smoking fetish studio. I kept quiet, hoping he would go away.

"I know you're there. If you don't want to work, fine. I just to make sure you're okay before I leave," he pleaded.

He was a really nice guy, and too good looking for my own good. I couldn't keep from thinking about having sex with him. Just the sound of his voice made me wet. I hated my libido for being such a traitor. Pete kept talking, and soon I began feeling like a major asshole for not answering—he clearly was concerned about me. Finally, I responded in a weak voice.

"Pete, I'm fine, just not up to doing it again. Please go and don't come back," I said, and then began sobbing again.

Everything was silent for several minutes, and just as I began to relax, I heard my dorm window creak open. Damn, I had forgotten to lock it! Before I could scramble out of bed, Pete had crawled through and was on my floor, right next to my bed.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I screamed at him.

"I just wanted to see you...that's not true...I want to hold you again," he said.

I began sobbing, and he put his arms around me, holding me, and not saying a word. My arms instinctively went around him, and we embraced like that for a lone time, until I finally stopped crying.

My hands were shaking from nicotine withdrawals, and Pete recognized the symptom. He found my purse, retrieved a cigarette and lighter, gently placed a cigarette between my lips, and lit it. I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with comforting smoke, and then exhaled through my nostrils.

He kissed me on the forehead, cheek, and then the lips. My tongue plunged into his mouth, as my body melted into his. I hated myself for giving in so easily, but I couldn't resist him, especially when he was so close. My hand with the cigarette caressed the back of his head, as we passionately French-kissed.

Pete reached around, gently grabbed my wrist, and moved my hand back to my mouth, so that I could take another long drag from the cigarette held between my fingers. The smoke came spilling out of my mouth, as he rubbed my pert breasts. I always slept naked, and his hands urgently went right down to my wet pussy, where in slowly inserted a finger. I groaned in satisfaction. It had been a week since I had fucked him, and I was very horny.

Before I could think better of it, he was inside of me. I was on my back, legs spread wide, pulling him into to me with both hands. He would pause ever so often to let me take another drag, and then as I exhaled, he would pump me hard, causing the smoke to erupt out of my mouth and nose. By the time I was close to finishing the cigarette, we both came, simultaneously.

Then, to my absolute horror, I realized that I had forgotten to take the pill for the last week. The thought of getting pregnant on top of everything was just too much for me. I began to sob again. Eventually, I told Pete why I was crying, and he assured me that everything would be okay. He said that I could take the morning after pill right now, and that everything would be okay.

He offered to go buy it for me, but I had been in bed too long, and wanted to get out of my dorm room, so I said we should go together. For some crazy reason, I felt a lot better when I was with him. I rose from the bed, and went the bathroom. I studied my disheveled appearance in the mirror. The image in the mirror looked terrible.

As a redhead, my skin was extremely pale, and covered with freckles, which really stood out when I flushed. And right now, I looked like a spotted plucked chicken. After cleaning myself up, we drove to the pharmacy, and I downed the medicine with a shot of Vodka, which Pete provided.

My nerves calmed down, as the alcohol hit my bloodstream. I seldom drank because the results where usually disastrous. I was a mean and rambunctious drunk. In fact, the first time I really tied one on was my senior prom night, and I had practically rapped my nerdy date. We both lost our virginity that night, but that poor boy never went out with me again.

The young man went home with two fractured fingers, deep nail scratches all over his back, hickies covering his neck and cheeks, and a very deflated male ego. Little wander he avoided me for the rest of the school year.

The thought of my bad behavior prompted me to take another big drink of the Vodka. After a few more chugs, I was feeling quite randy. In fact, I had changed my mind about doing the shoot with Pete.

"Let's go to the studio and fuck again!" I said.

"Ali, you're drunk. I'll take you back to your dorm room," he said.

"What's the matter, you're not man enough to share me with a fucking machine?" I said.

Last week, the smoking fetish website owner,

Ellen, had suggested we use a Sybian in our next shoot. I had watched several porn flicks, where girls rode them. A Sybian looked like half a barrel, with a dildo on top and small nubs, which stimulated both the vagina and clit with vibrations. The strength of the vibrations was controlled with a remote.

Ellen had wanted me to smoke on camera while riding a Sybian, with Pete fucking me in the ass. In other words, a double-penetration scene by man and machine. Until I had gotten drunk, the idea had scared the hell out of me. Now, I thought it would be fun.

"Are you sure Ali?" he said.

"Yes!" I yelled.

"Maybe the Vodka was a bad idea on my part," he said.

"Listen, if you don't take me to the studio right now, I'll find a ride there, and fuck someone else," I said, sneering at him.

"Okay, okay, but we'll need to stop by my place first," he said.

Between my belligerent out bursts, he patiently explained that do to an anal scene, I had to have an enema first to clean out my colon. Otherwise, I would make an unsightly mess in the studio. I took another swig, and told him to take me there.

His place was much nicer than I had expected. Apparently, filming and acting in porn paid well enough, even for a guy. Over my strong protests, he had taken away my bottle, as we entered his condo. I convinced him to take me straight to his bathroom, where I stripped off my clothes, and laid on the floor, comfortably resting on my side.

I hadn't had an enema since I was a child, but I remembered the position my mother had placed me in. So, I laid on my side, tucked my knees against chest, exposing my ass. He got out a large red enema bag, filled it with hot soapy water, hung it from the shower rod, and carefully inserted a rather large ribbed nozzle into my ass. I thought he was going too slow, so I reached around and shoved the nozzle deep into my ass, and laughed at the sensation.

I heard the sound of the value being clicked open, and immediately felt the sensation of the warm liquid rushing into me. After a few minutes, Pete got up, and went to check on something. I lay there, as the water rushed into me. I began to cramp, badly. So I crawled to me knees, which lessened the spasms. Then, I noticed the half-empty Vodka bottle setting on the counter.

I grabbed it, stood up, and poured the contents into the enema bag. I heard Pete coming back, so I stashed the bottle in the garbage next to the toilet, laid back down, and let the rest of the water and booze fill me.

I groaned from cramping again. Pete messaged my stomach, helping the soapy water (and booze) move into my upper intestines. His efforts reduced my cramps. Eventually, I heard the distinctive sucking sound that signaled the bag was finally empty.

I had to go badly, but Pete told me I had to hold it for five minutes, otherwise the soapy water wouldn't properly irate my bowels sufficiently to fully clean me out. Soon, I was dizzy from the alcohol seeping through my colon walls directly into my blood stream. I was really drunk, which made even bolder and wilder.

After I emptied myself out in the toilet, he gave me another enema to rinse out the remaining suds, but it was salt water this time. He knelt next to me, rubbing my tummy. As lay on his bathroom floor, taking the water into my ass, I reached up with his pants and unzipped them. He large cock fell out. It instantly stiffened, as I began stroking and sucking it.

By the time the bag emptied, he was on the verge of coming again, but pulled away, saying he had to save himself for the shoot. I pouted, at being deprived of my play toy, but obediently relieved myself of the salty water. This time, he stayed, and watched me on the toilet push the water out. For some strange, reason I found that incredibly erotic.

Nonetheless, I had him fetch my purse, so that I could smoke. I lit the cigarette, and inhaled deeply, before grunting to expel another around of water. I blew a tight cone of smoke at him. He smiled at me.

Once no more water would come out, I took a shower, dried myself, and applied makeup. Even this drunk, I did a pretty good job of making myself look presentable. He escorted me his car. As we drove to the studio, I rubbing his crotch, trying to get him to let me blow him again. But he resisted, with more than a little effort, from the look on his face the whole trip.

He had to steady me a bit, as we walked up to the house, which doubled as a studio. Ellen, the proprietor, was nowhere to be seen, so Pete guided me downstairs to studio room. It was the same one as last week, complete with two motorized remotely controlled cameras. All the way there, I continued to play with him, teasing him.

Once the lights came up in the studio, he pushed the Sybian out into the center of the room, and plunged it into the wall. He laid the remote control box next to it. While he was doing that, I had managed to strip of my clothes. He brought me a pair of very high heel stilettos. I strapped them on, but was too wobbly to stand in them.

Pete guided me to the Sybian, and gently lowered me onto it. I felt the dildo go up inside of me, and nubs press against my clit. I wiggled on it, and laughed at him. He laughed back, and then picked up the remote control and handed it to me. I turned the knob all the way to the right, but quickly turn it back down, as the machine roared life, violently vibrating my vagina and clitoris.

It wasn't just the vibrations that stirred my loins, but also the dildo seemed to be moving inside of my, making tiny fast circles. Shit that felt good. However, I had turned it down, as the high speed was made me swoon.

With what must have been a silly grin on my face, I looked up at Pete, and said, "Yummy, care to join me?"

He handed me a lighter and a 120 cigarette, which he lit for me. Good thing, as my hands were so unsteady by now that I probably won't have been able to lit it. I drew deeply on the 120, and exhaled through my nose, winking a Pete.

"Afraid to fuck my ass?" I said, taunting him.

I took another long drag on the cigarette dangling from my lips, my cheeks depressing with the effort. The smoke filled my lungs, as I turned up the control for the Sybian. I felt the dildo pick up speed inside me, but the vibration of the nub against my clit is what really got me. The pulsation brought me close to an orgasm, as I exhaled a narrow column of white smoke from my parted lips. The smoke reached Pete's face, a good four or five feet away from me.

He resisted my entreaties to join me. So I turned up the fucking machine, leaned into it, and took another deep drag on the 120. I let the smoke escape my lips, as I sucked it up my nostrils, and then exhaled another tight column of smoke at Pete. He undressed, and began rubbing his giant cock. I knew from past experience that he had a major smoking fetish, and I was really playing up to it.

As I finished my 120, and extinguished the butt in the astray on the floor next to the Sybian, Pete place another one in my lips and lit it. As I bent forward, exposing my ass, I grabbed his wrist and pulled him behind me. He went without resistance.

I was practically laying on the Sybian. The vibrations shook my breasts, clit, and pussy. I took a long drag on the 120, and I felt Pete work a finger into my tight ass. I had never had anal sex, but several of my lovers had fingered my ass during sex. I moaned, as another lubed finger slipped inside my anus. I blew perfect tiny smoke rings, and then moaned loudly, when I speeded up the Sybian again.

The knob was almost half way to the maximum setting, when I came for the first time. My back arched with each spasm. Just as I finished coming, Pete removed his fingers, and put them in my mouth. To my amazement, I eagerly sucked them. What a slut I had become!

I felt the tip of his huge cock enter my anus. He pushed it in slowly, but his member was so big that the pressure still hurt a little. Strangely, I found the discomfort enjoyable, and wanted his entire cock buried in my ass. So I took another drag on the 120, and then tilted my head back toward him, blowing a tight column of smoke that hit him in the face.

I knew this would further excite him, and he instantly plunged his cock balls deep into my ass. I vociferously groaned, with a mixture of ecstasy and agony. Somehow I found the will to sit back up, with the 120 dangling from my lips. He began pumping my ass, hard. I grunted with each stroke in, and sighed each time he withdrew.

Another long drag on the 120, I held the smoke a long time, and then slanted my head so that I could see him, as I exhaled a series of tiny smoke rings. The sight of me smoking drove him absolutely wild. He gripped my hips, and frantically pulled himself into me, shoving me back and forth on the Sybian. I reached down, and turned the knob on the remote to maximum.

I whimpered as the intensity of the vibrations caused my entire body to tremble. The dildo in my pussy was gyrating madly, while my clit was being overstimulated by the rough plastic nubs. And Pete picked up the pace pumping my ass. In midst of this massive stimulus, I somehow managed to bring the 120 back to my lips, inhaled, and exhaled through my nose. The smoke came out in small bursts.

And then my body was racked with waves of orgasm. I attempted to reach for the remote control to turn off the Sybian, but my arms only twitched in rhythm with my earth-shattering orgasm. I was totally helpless, having to endure each surge of ecstasy, unable to even speak. My body slumped forward, collapsing on the Sybian, which Pete took that as an indication to impel me even harder.

The waves of pleasure were quickly becoming too much, strangely changing into a form of unique pain. I was gasping for breath, not sure if I could stay conscious, as I came once more. This time, Pete came too, filling my ass with his warm sperm. Then, he collapsed on me. Fortunately, he had the presence of mind to grab the remote and shut off the Sybian; otherwise, I would have fainted for sure.

We both lay there, gasping for air. His head was right next to mine. He whispered in ear, "You should smoke."

My arms lay limp by my side, and I tried to raise the one with the smoldering 120, but it was as if the signals from brain weren't reaching my arm or hand. I couldn't even express my frustration to Pete. The best I could manage was a quiet whimper.

At last, he must have realized just how spent I was. He carefully slipped out of me, and then lifted me off the Sybian. As the dildo slipped out of my dripping pussy, I softly whined again. He laid me on the floor, and then settled by me on the floor. He lightly moved my matted hair off my face, and tenderly kissed me.

He took the cigarette from my limp hand, and touched it to my lips. I was able to take a small drag, and exhale the smoke from my nostrils. Then, I inhaled more deeply, and blew a weak stream of smoke that hovered above our naked bodies. The nicotine seemed to revive me, as I was able to touch Pete's face, and then kiss him.

We were both covered in sweat, and I was still plastered. In due course, we got up, and he helped me dress. The cameras followed me around the room, creeping me out. Even drunk, I knew that meant someone had been controlling them, and watching us the entire time. The thought freaked me out.

I told Pete that I was in no mood to talk to the boss. He said that we could exit through a separate door, so I follow him, stumbling in my high heels. He stabilized me, by putting his arm around me, and got me to his car. We drove back to his place.

By the time we got there, I had apparently passed out because the next thing I knew, I was waking up beside him in bed. We were both naked, and my leg was draped over his. I cautiously got up, and went to the bathroom. My head, ass, and pussy were killing me. I should never have drunk that Vodka. A murderous hangover was the least of my problems.

In the bathroom, I searched his medicine cabinet, and found some aspirin. As I swallowed the pills, I happened to spot the red enema bag, still hanging from his shower curtain. Suddenly, memories from yesterday washed over me, and I blushed from head to foot. My pale skin turned bright red.

Humiliated beyond words, I gathered my things, and snuck out of Pete's condo. I caught a cab back to my dorm. As I sat in the back seat, I dug through my purse looking for a cigarette. To my surprise, I noticed an envelope, with my name on it. Curious, I opened it with my thumb. Inside was a check for $14,000!

There was also a note in the envelope from Ellen, congratulating me on another fantastic shoot, and an offer for another shoot next week. Apparently, she had stopped by last night to drop off the check, but I was out like a light. So she had left it with Pete, who it seemed had stuck it in my purse.

I couldn't believe that doing smoking porn had earned me enough in just two weeks to pay for a whole year of university. It certainly took the edge off the disgrace and awkwardness. By the time I got home, I had decided that smoking and fucking for money might not actually be that bad.

Besides, as much as I hated to admit it, I was falling for Pete. The only thing that really worried me right now, was what Ellen might have in mind for the next shoot. How could I top the last one, and would I want to?