A Lost Daughter Ch. 12

Sienna had been right—it hadn't taken her long to melt her way through that bag of shard. Three days in fact, although she was hardly alone. Amber had been easing off the accelerator over the course of the previous month, perhaps sensing a familiar course begin to careen out of control and perhaps in preparation for heading back to work soon. But that had all changed when Sienna had received the massive glass bong from Kevin a few days ago.

Suddenly, Amber went from a couple hits once or twice a week to matching Sienna's torrid pace of 'every waking moment.' I sensed that they were, in fact, encouraging each other in a way and feeding off their mutually reckless hedonistic passion. This had both scared and excited me for several reasons. First and foremost, Amber had been fast approaching the end of her PTO. While she could continue her leave of absence—without her time off being paid I would be hard-pressed to keep both women supplied and all the bills paid on my salary alone.

While we did have a healthy sum in the bank, it was our retirement fund and emergency money and while fun—I couldn't quite describe our current situation as an emergency as much as I would've liked to. Another thing I considered was the proposition of Amber completely giving in to this new lifestyle. Once representing the pinnacle of my greatest fantasies, it now represented a complete overhaul of our current existence. We likely wouldn't be living in the same home, neighborhood, or driving the same cars or enjoying the same relative financial freedom if Amber switched from a source of income to a new deficit.

That was saying nothing of the gnawing ache in my stomach whenever I truly let myself imagine life without her as my partner. Sure, we were partners in everything we did—including this new and wonderful one with Sienna—but the dynamic would be vastly different if I lost her as a mutual caretaker and overseer. She would, instead, become a subject in this dangerously arousing experiment and I alone would be responsible for its orchestration.

I was certainly not naïve, nor was I capable of deluding myself about certain very real possibilities. Overdose, infection, disease, death—these were not out of the realm of possibility for one or both of my beloved women. While the risk was definitely a large part of what aroused me, especially when it was ignored to pursue pleasure with heedless ferocity, my arousal was only capable of staving off my fears of loss to a certain extent. That extent, it seemed, was tested with inclusion of Amber as a possible casualty of my sexual deviance.

I had thus far been quiet about my concerns, at least recently, and neither woman was aware of my occasional brooding. I paused my rumination momentarily to enjoy the soft breathing and serene peacefulness of the two beautiful sleeping women who'd been generating my internal conflictions.

Sienna was on her back in the center of the bed, closest to me, arms cocked to either side and legs spread out. Her hair was splayed out around her head like a splash of shimmering black ink against the white canvas of her down pillow. The lids and surrounding skin of her closed eyes had taken on a darker shade of pink as a result of more than 72 hours without sleep, but her otherwise flawless visage remained defiant to its effects. Her plump lips were parted lightly, their swollen fullness a marvel of incredible heredity. Wearing nothing but a tank top and underwear, the outline of her supple breasts could be traced easily through the thin fabric to reveal the points of her perky nipples.

Amber was on her side facing both Sienna and I, arms reaching out in an unconscious pursuit of our embrace. Knees pulled up and posture broken, she looked nothing like the devious mastermind of corruption that I knew her to be. Instead she looked small, fragile, and innocent. Her lips were parted similarly to Sienna's, in a perpetual 'pre-kiss' pucker that seemed intentionally beckoning despite her unconsciousness. My favorite thing, however, was the way her eyebrows arched in a sympathetic pattern above her shuttered lids. They remained high in an expression of tender concern that had always warmed my heart.

I loved them both dearly, and regardless of how utterly depraved our day-to-day activities became it was the one absolute truth that remained foundational and unwavering. I would be making no grand decisions now and I would issue no sweeping reform. Tomorrow it would be business as usual and another step down a path that we'd all committed to traveling—for better or worse.

The familiar clicks of lighters was the first thing I heard the next morning, an indication that my life was still very much a fantasy of my own making. I squinted through the haze of sunlight and smoke that bathed me and tried to catch a glimpse of either Sienna or Amber satisfying their nicotine requirement with the first cigarette of the day. As I blinked my eyes into focus Amber's outline began to materialize at the foot of the bed, the sunlight hitting her in such a way as to cast her in a golden silhouette. I watched silently as she brought the freshly lit cylinder up to her face, a shadowy profile enshrined by the glow of the sun.

My vantage allowed me a perfect view of her lips, poised and puckered like they were when she slept, welcoming the filter between their sumptuous embrace. The tip glowed a faint yellow-orange in the morning light as suction was applied with greedy intent. After several seconds the cigarette was extracted from its fleshy confines and allowed momentary respite while Amber hungrily coveted her prize. The clarifying illumination of her lusciously full lips basking in the brilliance of the morning sun presented the tight ball of smoke snapping dramatically into view before being noisily consumed in unparalleled magnificence.

The contour of Amber's body shifted as the contents of her mouth were drawn down into her yearning lungs and imprisoned. An almost imperceptible aura of satisfaction settled over her then, as the contents of her chest began to submit to the ravenous appetite of its host—being absorbed in a ritual of satiation long ago perfected. Upon being stripped of its valuable carcinogens, Amber lifted her chin slightly in preparation of the final part of the ritual. Her shoulders relaxed and lips pursed, a thin stream of smoke erupted from within her in a tight cone that stretched to the ceiling. Its volume expanded and developed increased opacity as it continued being expelled by the voluptuous mouth of its former captor.

Finally, it's constitution waned, and presence diminished until the only evidence of its once billowing majesty was a lingering borderless haze that swirled shapelessly in the shadows. Only moments passed before Amber's arm moved again to repeat the ritual—to be completed countless times over and over to slake an insatiable appetite that would never relent.

"You're so beautiful," I croaked from a throat unprepared for its first communicative gesture of the day.

Amber's body trembled as my sudden outburst startled her mid-drag. As she composed herself and turned toward me her lips curved into a smile around the cigarette that still burned brightly between them. She removed the filter from her mouth languidly and snapped a ball of smoke visibly down her throat before kissing her hand and blowing me a smokey kiss. The view of her lush mouth pursed in a kiss disappeared behind a thick cloud of smoke as it was expelled in a tight cone that cascaded toward me. I enjoyed the sensations of her smokey exhale bathing me in its embrace as her face reemerged and her exhale thinned to a wisp.

Her smile was broad and unrestrained, both tender and a fierce indication of our love and admiration for one another.

"I miss you," she whispered softly.

"I'm right here, I've always been right here," I replied somewhat confused.

"I know, but sometimes I feel like I don't get to enjoy our quiet moments as often as I'd like to," she explained.

I smiled, immediately relating to her sentiment with agreeance.

"This is a quiet moment," I replied.

She smiled back, a deep knowing expression borne of understanding and intimacy generated over many years.

She grabbed her small, brown glass ashtray and began scooting up the bed toward me. I adjusted my position to be laying on my left side, creating an area for Amber to snuggle into. She did just that, turning on her left side and wriggling her body into position. After she was entirely pressed against me and comfortable, I adjusted the pillow under her head and then snuck my arm under her neck between her shoulder and the pillow. I used that arm to wrap around her and hug her close with my hand on her right shoulder, further reinforcing our closeness with my right arm around her waist.

She seemed to settle into my grasp, somehow inching even closer to me so every part of our bodies were touching. I laid my cheek on the side of her head just behind her temple and breathed deeply, letting her essence fill me completely. I smelled her distinctively feminine shampoo, the soap she used and her rose lotion as well as the ever present aroma of smoke and more specifically ash. Her silky brown hair tickled my cheeks as I watched her bring the dwindling Newport up to her face. I could hear the singe of tobacco as her drag fueled the burn and filled her mouth with noxious smoke. When she removed the cigarette, I heard the soft 'pop' of her snap inhale and felt her shoulders rise and chest expand as she began filling her lungs.

I continued holding her close while her entire body seemed to shift to accommodate the volume of her drag and the depth of her inhalation. There was a momentary pause where Amber's delicate frame seemed to freeze in a state of expansion, not simply content with how much she'd inhaled or how deeply but needing to trap the smoke for maximum absorption before releasing it. After several seconds she was satisfied, and I felt her seem to deflate in my arms as the contents of her lungs were begrudgingly exhaled—sending a smooth stream of smoke across the bed toward the adjoining bathroom.

Amber seemed to smoke in such a way that every exhale was the result of a failure of will or determination or biology. That, if only for the unending need for oxygen to remain conscious there would be no other obstacle preventing her from keeping each lungful of smoke inside until there was nothing left to be exhaled—only to fill her lungs again and repeat the process. I truly believed that if it were possible to breath smoke and only smoke and remain among the living—Amber would.

"I hear your mind working back there," she teased, knowing long stretches of silence usually meant the machinations of my mind were operating in overdrive.

"You know me far too well," I chuckled softly.

"What's going on inside that head of yours all day?" she asked, taking a final drag off her now-spent Newport 100.

"Oh, you know. A little of this, a little of that," I joked, not knowing exactly how to describe the tangled mess of thoughts that always seemed to be ricocheting around my skull in disordered pandemonium.

She laughed at that, a soft shudder of shoulders and closed-lipped reverberations.

"Fine, have your secrets my love. Just remember that I'm always here when you need me," she purred, having finished her cigarette and relaxed into motionless serenity.

"I know," I whispered, kissing her head.

The soft caress of a hand on my shoulder brought my attention back to my surroundings, and I blinked my way out of slumber for the second time that day to see Sienna peering down at me from the side of the bed.

"Whoops, what time is it?" I groaned, realizing I had fallen back asleep while cuddling with Amber.

"It's only a little after noon, but I'm completely out of dope," she replied, making a pained expression.

"Oh no, did we fall asleep?" Amber said as she also stirred awake.

"I didn't want to bother you guys, so looked so cute cuddled up together! But I need to re-up and it's kind of a big day. I did wait as long as I could though, and I got dressed, took a shower, made myself all pretty," Sienna explained, tilting her head and smiling playfully to exhibit herself to us.

"You look beautiful honey," Amber appraised, now laying on her back and squinting over at Sienna.

"You look great," I agreed, my eyes finally able to focus on her as they adjusted to the light.

She was wearing a high-waisted black nylon skirt that barely reached past her mid-thigh and a purple off-the shoulder shirt that showed off her beautiful skin nicely. She had on black fishnet stockings and chunky black boots that accentuated the 'punk' vibe she was clearly playing at. Around her waist was a metal ring chain 'belt' that wrapped around her hips as a piece of eye candy and a couple of silver bangle bracelets to match.

Her face was adorned with a fresh application of make-up, utilizing whatever wizardry that cosmetics and feminine wiles allowed to create the perfectly even, smooth, matte finish of her flawless skin. Her winged eyeliner was dramatic and extended well beyond the corners of her eyes, accentuated nicely by the combination of sparkly black and purple eyeshadow along her eyelids and brow and a metallic pink lipstick.

The entire ensemble was capped off with her slightly grown out pixie bob styled wild and messy, the left side hanging down in wavy curls past her chin while the right side was only slightly tamed by a partial tuck behind her ear. Her black hoop nose-ring and giant oversized silver hoop earrings were just icing on the cake.

"You think they'll like me?" she asked rhetorically, doing a little curtsy as I appreciated her staggering beauty and sexual allure.

"I think I'm going have a hard time not making a mess of you before we even get there," I admitted, blood flowing to my nether regions in hopeful anticipation.

"Oh, daddy, you're so sweet," she replied in a saccharine tone intended to make a mockery of the very notion in response to my naked admission of incestuous lust.

I smiled, but it was predatory and revealed my thoughts a little too plainly for Sierra to ignore.

"Daddy! I love when you look at me like that...," she purred, slipping her pointer finger in her mouth and striking a suggestive pose.

"Don't get him all worked up, honey. He'll make a mess and then you'll need to start over," Amber half-joked as she stepped out of bed and into the bathroom.

"So, whaddaya think daddy? Should I stop getting you all worked up?" Sienna continued, clearly not heeding her mother's warnings.

I took a long, deep breath and exhaled slowly, unsure of anything at that moment aside from my intense desire to fuck my little girl.

She, of course, proceeded to make any attempts at self-control infinitely more difficult.

"What do we have here?" she teased, reaching into the front of her shirt to reveal a pack of Newport 100's tucked into the cup of her strapless bra.

I had no choice; I began rubbing my prick through my boxer shorts as I watched her pop open the box and shake a cork-tipped filter loose.

"I opened this pack this morning," she grinned, turning the box toward me to reveal that there were only 4 cigarettes remaining.

My cock lurched and I slipped it out of the slit in the front, while I continued to stroke myself.

"I'm thinking I'll hit 2 packs today, easily," Sienna went on, lifting the box up to her lips and inserting the one she'd shaken loose between her pouting, pink lips.

She slowly pulled the box away and let the cigarette dangle, keeping only the very end of the filter in her mouth. The outrageous fullness of her lips and sticky lipstick were the only things keeping the cigarette from dropping to the floor, but it was a pose that I knew she must have practiced in the mirror.

"Should I light it, daddy?" she asked, her voice small and pleading, playing on my every nerve.

"Yes, baby," I encouraged, my cock nearly fully erect and tenting conspicuously beneath the comforter.

She reached into the box of Newports and produced her yellow Bic, an homage to her mother, and brought it up to her face. She gave me one last look of innocence and lip puckering coyishness before flicking the lighter to life and eliciting a bright yellow flame dancing at her command. Her mouth clamped down around the filter and the cigarette straightened, being directed towards the flame at what felt like a snail's pace. My heart seemed to skip a beat and my breath went shallow as they finally met, the slightest brush of contact being the only requirement when combined with Sienna's powerful suction as an added accelerant.

The lighter clicked off and dropped to the floor as Sienna's cheeks collapsed in unison, accentuating her high cheek bones as she dragged like she was sucking on the elixir of eternal life. She extracted the cigarette slowly, pursing her lips tightly so that only a wisp from the end of the filter escaped her. Instead of her trademark snap-inhale, a trait passed down lovingly from her mother, Sienna opened her mouth wide to reveal the utterly opaque fog of smoke swirling inside. I expected a quick, violent inhale to send the giant mouthful of smoke vanishing out of sight, but Sienna had other plans. She allowed the smoke to trickle up over her top lip and curl into her left nostril, her mouth remaining wide enough that I could catch glimpses of her tonsils at the back of her throat.

She allowed the smoke to waft curiously before proceeding to suck it smoothly into a perfect French inhale. The smoke rolled in thick waves over her top lip and into both nostrils, enough so that her lip and philtrum were entirely obscured by the dense cascade. Suddenly it was over, and the smoke that had once resided in her mouth had all been vacuumed into her lungs through her nose. She smiled at me proudly as my hand worked a little more rigorously on my member.

"I've been practicing!" she exclaimed, before tilting her head up and producing a thick stream of smoke from her shimmering, metallic lips.

I yanked the comforter to the side to reveal my erect penis standing defiantly out from between the hole in my boxers, prompting an excited squeal from Sienna. She kicked off her boots, which had been left stylishly untied, and crawled onto my lap. She let the cigarette dangle between her lips as she walked on her knees to center her cunt above my prick and reached down between her legs to guide it home. I silently applauded her slutty combination of short skirt, no panties, and fishnet stockings as the head of my cock sank into her.

My breath abandoned me as the sensation of her warmth, tightness, and gyrations combined to rob me of my basic motor functions. She was bucking her hips at a frenetic pace, riding me with a vigor that any pornstar would be envious of. I laid back, content that she was going to do the work and managed to look up just in time to see her snap a ball of smoke up her nose in a delicious 'French snap.' I let that image replay in my mind for a moment until she began to exhale, my position right beneath her offering a new and wonderful view of her thick exhale.

My hands found their way up to her tits, easily sliding beneath the loose fabric of her off-the-shoulder top. I cupped the impossibly soft skin of her breasts and slipped my hands up to her nipples, trapping their firmness between my fingers as I kneaded her chest. Sienna arched her back in response to this new pleasure and a large piece of ash broke off from her cigarette as she took another drag. It fell in several pieces onto her shirt, eliciting no reaction whatsoever. She double pumped her cigarette, following her first drag with an equally voracious one that burned the Newport down to the filter. Another French-snap followed, and the butt was flicked across the room without a second thought.