Ping-pong with Gaby

My relationship with Gaby had lasted for about for six months when we were vacationing in my aunt's holiday home on the Baltic Coast in North Germany. Gaby was (and is) a very beautiful young woman who grew up with her Ghanaian extended family in the district of Wedding in Berlin. She wears her long, black hair in dozens of thin Afro braids that perfectly frame her well-proportioned face. She studies English and sports at Berlin's Humboldt Universität, is tall, smart and quick-witted, has a seducing smile and, unfortunately, usually beat me at ping-pong.

Well above my level in almost all areas.

My aunt's small house dates back to Communist East Germany, self-built and more of a shack than a house, but it's right on the beach with a breathtaking view of the seemingly endless Baltic Sea.

There is a ping-pong table in the shed next to the house. In the evenings, when it was not so hot, we played in the garden. Gaby's bare feet danced across the close-cropped lawn at lightning speed as she relentlessly fought for each ball and usually won it.

"Should we play for a prize?" Gaby asked one Sunday evening.

"A prize? What do you mean?"

"You know, I'll pick something you have to do if I win. And the other way around."

"You'd like that. You keep winning all the time."

"You won yesterday."

"Once!"

"I already know what I want for a prize."

"I'm sure you do."

"You're going to take me to a sushi restaurant."

"I hate raw fish."

"How do you even know? You've never eaten sushi!"

"Touché! And I get to choose what you have to do if I win?"

"Exactly!"

I already knew what I wanted. My dick went rock hard at the thought.

"OK. If I win, I need you to... smoke a... cigarette."

She protested:

"That's unfair. Cigarettes are gross."

"Just like sushi."

"That's not the same. Fish is healthy. Cigarettes cause cancer."

"A single cigarette won't."

"Probably not. But you need to choose something else. I'm not doing it. I hate smoking."

"Exactly my opinion on sushi. Do you want to skip the prize?"

"You know how I hate cigarette smoke."

"You have a very sensitive non-smoker nose. You also complained that the house smelled of cigarettes because my aunt smokes here from time to time."

"She smokes indoors! Nobody does that. Only in old films from the 90s."

"Perhaps you would be more tolerant if you smoked yourself."

"You think I'm intolerant?"

"You always complain when someone smokes around you."

"Because it's so gross. Why are we even discussing this? Why do you want me to smoke?"

"I want to see what you look like with a cigarette."

"I can tell you. I'll look stupid because I'm not a smoker."

"I think you'll look very nice when you smoke a cigarette."

"If I lose, I have to smoke one cigarette? Only one?"

"Yes. But you have to smoke it all the way to the filter."

"Okay. I'm gonna win anyway."

"Probably."

We shook hands and went to the ping-pong table in the garden, where Gaby tied her braids together with a rubber band.

Very predictably she took the first set 11-7, but despite the appealing sight of her large, dangling tits with nipples protruding under her increasingly sweaty and see-through T-shirt, I managed to focus on the match. In the second set I trailed her up to 10-10. Then, miraculously, I was able to win the next two balls. The third set would decide whether I was going to eat disgusting raw fish or experience my girlfriend as a sexy smoker.

The defeat in the second set had apparently shaken her. It dawned on her that she might lose, and she was getting more and more nervous. Her smashes, otherwise feared, hit the net and I happened to win the third set 14-12.

"I think it's time for your cigarette break," I grinned triumphantly and placed my bat on the table.

"You want me to do it right now? Too bad we don't have any cigarettes."

"Oh, luckily we do. My aunt keeps them in her kitchen drawer. I want to see you smoke right now."

She nodded bravely and I went to pick up a pack of Camel Blue and a lighter from the drawer.

"Yeah. Let's get it over with," Gaby said resolutely as she picked out one of the last three cigarettes from the pack. She tested it between two fingers and put it between her lips. I quickly grabbed the lighter and held the flame to the cigarette. She immediately started coughing, emitting a tiny puff of smoke. But it was promising.

I waited patiently for her second drag.

This time, she took in a little more smoke and managed this without coughing. The smoke came out immediately. She wasn't inhaling. As was to be expected from a beginner.

"Well, how do you like me as a smoker?" Gaby asked with a weary smile, waving the smoke away from her face with her hand.

"It suits you!"

"It does? I feel so stupid doing this."

"And how does it taste?"

"Disgusting! Bitter and chemical. This is really not for me. Will you get me a glass of water, please? If I'm going to do this, I need something to drink."

I got her a glass of water, which she drained eagerly. She went to the window and looked at her reflection while puffing on the cigarette again.

"I look like a 12-year-old who smokes secretly behind the school."

"You look very beautiful and elegant when you smoke, but you might try inhaling. So far you've just put the smoke in your mouth and blown it out."

"Isn't that what smokers do?"

"No. Real smokers fill their lungs with smoke, enjoy it there for a few seconds, and then blow it out."

"See! I'm simply not a real smoker."

"No. Not yet."

"And I won't become one either. This is my first and last cigarette," she claimed.

"Okay. But you lost two sets to one, and we agreed that you smoke that one cigarette. Down to the filter."

"I'm trying."

"Just take the smoke into your mouth. And then don't blow it out again. Close your mouth and breathe in deeply through your nose. Then the smoke automatically goes where it belongs. In your lungs."

Gaby tried to follow my detailed instructions, but ended up coughing badly with tears in her beautiful brown eyes.

When she had finished coughing, I gave her a long French kiss and was able to enjoy her new smoker's breath for the first time.

"Doesn't that taste about as bad as licking an ashtray?" she asked after the kiss.

"What? To kiss you?"

"Kissing me while I smoke, I mean. I have this disgusting taste all over my mouth. You must feel that too, don't you?"

"You taste just great, Gaby."

"It turns you on when I smoke, right?" she asked with a seductive smile, gripping the bulge in my pants. My hard-on betrayed me.

"Maybe," I admitted.

"That's what this whole circus is about. Smoking women make you horny. You always stare when we meet some smoking bitch in the street."

"Did you notice?"

"Do you think I'm blind? Do I have to finish this?"

Gaby held up her cigarette.

"I don't think I can do this anymore. Please! I tried really hard, and you've had your fun, haven't you?" she asked, slightly irritated.

"Okay. Put it out."

She stubbed out the cigarette on the tiles with a sigh of relief and went inside, where she drank lots of water and brushed her teeth intensively.

"Yuck! I can't get rid of that taste," she said while putting her toothbrush back into the water glass, "Why don't you smoke yourself if you like it that much?"

"Can we play again?" I asked, changing the subject.

"I can't wait to beat the shit out of you!" she said with a laugh and headed for the ping-pong table.

We played until dark. Gaby won big time. When we finally stopped, I needed to go to the toilet.

Gaby is a very determined and high-achieving woman who has to prove herself over and over. When I came out of the toilet, she was on the terrace with a lit cigarette.

"You are smoking?" I asked.

"Obviously!" she replied dryly and smiled at me.

"I thought you didn't like it."

"You want me to. Don't you? Look!"

Gaby raised the cigarette to her lips, took in smoke, held it in her mouth and then breathed in air through her nose. She smiled proudly at me as she held the smoke in her lungs for a few seconds.

My dick became rock-hard as I noticed that Gaby had taught herself to inhale while she smoked. She didn't look like a beginner anymore.

Triumphantly, she exhaled a medium-sized cloud of smoke straight onto my happy face and tapped the ash of her cigarette. All done very skillfully.

"I knew I could."

"You look incredibly sexy when you do that."

"I can see that."

She pointed to the bump between my legs with her cigarette and took a couple of deep inhales just to demonstrate her new skill. My dick was so hard that it would have exploded if Gaby hadn't put out the cigarette after three deep inhales.

"I have now smoked my first and last cigarette. Ever!" she announced, "The taste is so gross. I hope you enjoyed it."

We went inside. Before she could reach for her toothbrush, I pulled her into the bedroom and undressed her. We had wonderful sex, during which I could fully enjoy her new, smoky aroma.

The next morning I had to go to Berlin to work for a few days. Gaby drove me to the train station early in the morning, where we said goodbye. The smoke still clung to her hair.

Three days later I recognized Gaby from the train window. She wore a hot pink, strapless mini dress that did full justice to her full tits and round ass.

"Wow! Great dress," I said as she ran to meet me on the platform.

"Thanks! I bought it yesterday. I've missed you."

The outline of Africa, which a tattoo artist in Berlin inked from her collarbone down to the upper part of her left tit earlier that spring while I held her hand for comfort, was completely visible all the way from Cairo to Cape Town thanks to the generous cleavage of the sexy dress. A wide headband held her dreadlocks together, accentuating her large, gold-colored hoop earrings. Gaby's hairband, lipstick, flip-flops, and nail polish were as shocking pink as her skin-tight dress.

As we kissed, I enjoyed her unfamiliar smoky taste from her mouth and the reaction in my pants was inevitable. We kissed for a long time before either of us said a word.

"You smoked!" I said with a satisfied smile.

"Is it that obvious? I brushed my teeth. A lot."

She showed her shining white smile,

"A smoker's breath isn't something you get rid of that easily. And the smell is in your hair and clothes and on your skin."

"And now it bothers you?" she asked, pretending to be upset.

"Not at all. I love to watch you smoke."

"I thought so! Let's go to the car," she said and picked up one of my bags.

Her 1990s VW Golf sat alone in the small parking lot. We threw our bags in the back and entered the car. In the ashtray I noticed two cigarette butts with Gaby's pink lipstick on the filter.

She reached into the glove compartment for a box of blue Camels and a lighter. She picked a cigarette out of the pack where there were only two left. With a practiced hand movement, she put the cigarette between her naturally full lips and lit it. Nothing was left of the twelve-year-old beginner. My dick was threatening to burst my pants.

"What? You actually smoke in the car?" I asked with surprise. This was almost too good to be true.

"Yes. If that's all right with you. I don't have to. But I got the impression that you really wanted to see me smoke," she grinned and pointedly enveloped me in her exhale.

"No. Go ahead. Did you smoke the whole pack while I was in Berlin?" I asked, using my hand to try to hide how horny I got at the sight of Gaby with a burning cigarette between her fingers.

Gaby took a deep drag before continuing:

"Almost. I bought a new pack on Monday and put the two cigarettes I owed your aunt in the drawer. Then I stood there with a whole pack that I didn't want to just throw away. They're fucking expensive, those things. Then I simply started smoking them and got the taste of it."

She kept her cigarette in her mouth as she slipped off her flip-flops and tossed them on the back seat. Then she used her size 7 bare feet on the clutch and accelerator and drove off.

She rolled down the window, took the cigarette out of her mouth and blew out her smoke to the left before continuing:

"By the way, I need more cigarettes. Let's stop by the supermarket."

That sounded promising. My sexy girlfriend needed more cigarettes. She stayed in the car when I went in. I bought three packs to be on the safe side, knowing that the next few days would decide if she would become a real smoker. However highly motivated she seemed at the moment, I only had a short window of opportunity to establish a sustained nicotine addiction. This had to be done while we were enjoying togetherness on the Baltic Coast and her non-smoking friends were far away.

"Here's a stash for you," I said as I tossed the three light blue packs into her lap.

While waiting, she had already finished her first Camel and lit another.

"Thanks, honey!" she said, blowing smoke through the open window before leaning in my direction for a juicy French kiss with fresh cigarette flavor.

Five minutes later we were at the house, where the coals were already glowing on the grill. With the lit cigarette in her mouth, she took meat from the refrigerator.

"I hope you don't mind if my ashes fall on the steaks," she said as she placed the meat on the grill.

"Three days ago you said you had smoked your first and your last cigarette. And now you've smoked two in 20 minutes. What happened?"

"I've noticed the effect it has on you when you see me smoking. If you're so into smoking women, then please get an erection because of me and not because of some random smoking slut. I simply kept smoking for three days and noticed that the cigarettes have a positive effect on me. After a few drags I feel this very pleasant tingle."

"You do?"

"And smoking helps me focus."

"Really? How about the taste?"

"The taste took about half a pack to get used to. But now I enjoy it."

Gaby took a last drag from her cigarette, which had been smoked to the filter, and stubbed it out in an ashtray. I managed to catch the last of the smoke from her mouth in a French kiss.

We ate the steaks with potato salad and red wine. As soon as Gaby had emptied her plate, she immediately needed to smoke again. She opened a new pack of Camels and lit one.

"I imagine it's alright with you that I smoke while you eat?"

"Absolutely!"

I helped myself to more potato salad and enjoyed watching my girlfriend smoking.

"So you're a real smoker now?" I asked.

"Don't get your hopes up. It's more like... holiday fun. I want to see what it's like and how it affects me. And you. Oh, there's another hard-on!"

She laughed, took a drag from her Camel and pointed to the bulge between my legs.

"Can we go to the bedroom now, please?" I asked.

"Right now? I'm enjoying my after dinner cigarette."

Gaby laughed and exhaled her smoke right in my face.

"Can I finish it?" she asked.

"Take it with you! And the ashtray. I want you to keep smoking in bed!"

"I'm not gonna argue with that," she smiled, shrugged and kicked off her flip-flops as she stood up.

I took her hand and led her into the bedroom where I peeled off her tight dress.

"You're not wearing panties!"

"First of all...," Gaby pointed out and took another deep drag from her cigarette, "...that would look stupid in this tight dress, and secondly, it makes job work easier now."

She lay down on the bed, naked and spread-legged. She barely managed to put down her ashtray on the sheet before I entered her and came immediately.

"That was fast! I hope you enjoyed it. I hardly noticed," she commented sarcastically.

"Sorry. Couldn't help it. It'll get hard again. Just keep smoking."

She did, and after a few moments we could fuck again. We had simultaneous orgasms. Then she sucked my dick, and we fucked doggy style. She smoked continuously, one after the other.

´"I need a drink," she said as she stubbed out her fourth cigarette since dinner.

She loosely wrapped my white shirt around her and went outside without buttoning it. When I found my pants and came out, she sat with her legs apart and drank red wine. I sat down so I could look straight at her big tits and dripping pussy.

"As nice as it was... I need a little break," she said.

"Me too. My dick is sore."

"Oh, I could go on fucking. But the cigarettes make me dizzy. I need some fresh air."

I kissed her smoky mouth. After half an hour we were able to continue.

On Thursday I woke up around nine to the smell of cigarette smoke and fresh coffee. I had a moderate hangover, but Gaby seemed fresh and cheerful as she set the breakfast table, dressed in nothing but my unbuttoned shirt.

"I need to smoke before breakfast. I hope you don't mind. This is my second today, by the way," she said, holding up her lit cigarette.

"You don't have to apologize to me for smoking. You know that," I said and kissed her.

As the day progressed, we found that Gaby's constant smoking turned me on unbelievably. She only had to wave the glow of her burning wand for a moment, and the wand in my pants would come alive, and I needed to fuck her immediately.

On the beach I had to run very quickly into the Baltic Sea when it got too much. Gaby continued to smoke on the bath towel behind me, laughing. She lit one in front of a shop window in the pedestrian zone, and I had to run away to avoid wetting my pants with sperm. That was exactly what happened to me after our meal on a cafe terrace, and I tried to hide the sticky stains. Gaby lit another with a smile as we went to the VW.

"Are you trying to provoke me?" I asked as I sat down in the passenger seat with my greasy pants.

"Provoke? What do you mean?" she asked innocently, cigarette between her lips as she expertly maneuvered the car out of a narrow parking space.

"Well, you know, whenever I see you smoking, I need to have sex with you urgently. And that isn't always possible. Like earlier in front of that shop or at the cafe."

Gaby took her cigarette out of her mouth.

"I'm not exactly trying to provoke you. But as I said before, I'm interested in the effect I suddenly have on you when I smoke. It's like... a little... experiment."

We drove back to the house and had great sex.

"Did you always want to turn me into a smoker?" Gaby asked as she lay naked in bed and stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray.

"Ever since we met. I really love beautiful women who smoke. When I saw the first glimpse of you, I wished you'd smoke."

"Really? You were just waiting for the right opportunity to convert me to being a smoker?"

"Yeah."

"Then I came up with my ridiculous idea when we played ping-pong. And voilà: I smoke."

Gaby grabbed the Camel pack and lit the next one.

"Are you addicted?" I asked neutrally, trying to conceal my hopefulness.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Gaby grinned and tool a deep drag.

"No," I lied.

"Strange. That was my impression."

She let out a big cloud of smoke.

"And to answer your question, no. I'm by no means addicted. I can stop now. I don't have to smoke. Just watch!"

She took a deep drag and demonstratively extinguished her half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray.

"So! Now I'm a non-smoker again," she announced, spreading her arms. The smoke escaping her mouth wasn't exactly confirming what she said.

Gaby got up, quickly slipped into her panties and a t-shirt.

"Wanna play? I mean ping-pong," she said.

I got out of bed, put something on and followed her into the garden.

She beat me by a wide margin in two games, and I guess I was a bit unfocused because I couldn't rid my mind of the worst-case scenario that she had just gone back to being a non-smoker. Just because of her stubbornness and my premature question about addiction.