Sissy Aunty Gina - A Smoking Fetish

I finished my cigarette, stubbed it out in the now nearly-over-brimming ashtray, full of white, lipstick-smeared cigarette stubs, and deftly took another, quickly applied more glossy, red lipstick and then lit it, inhaling deeply ready to resume my loving task.

As I clamped my lipsticky lips and smoke-filled mouth back around Simon's knob, I knew that he was close to cumming and it was time to resume our fetish scenario. Simon was moaning with pleasure as pulled my mouth from his cock in order to take a breath and to take a drag on my cigarette saying, "Now remember, darling, you promised aunty that you wouldn't make any squirts with your nasty penis, just enjoying my kisses," I reminded him as I again clamped my wet mouth over his beautiful knob and sucked greedily.

My lover was almost delirious with pleasure at my smoky sucking, the feel of my mouth and my whorish image becoming to be too much for him to control. Thrusting his fat cock deeply into my mouth, he grabbed my head with both his strong hands and forced his cock even deeper into my mouth making cigarette smoke pour from my nostrils as he started to spasm with his orgasm.

My lover's cock is, to me, so huge that even after year's of trying to do so, I am still unable to take him down my throat, but that doesn't stop him from trying to do so, especially when he's overcome with a need to cum. I started to gag on his cock as he held my head clamped tightly and he face-fucked me for his pleasure. With a huge groan of release, Simon pumped a huge, thick, salty load of cum into me making me gag on the knob probing my throat and as I tied to swallow all of his load. My eyes were running with tears as he continued to thrust and cum and I could feel each spurt of his seed as he forced it down my throat. I could only breath through my nose until his spasms subsided and he eventually let go of my head. I gasped for breath and then took a whorish drag on my cigarette, the sticky, salty sperm filling my mouth, throat and even coating my pretty lips where I'd failed to swallow it all.

Gasping for breath after being roughly ravaged like this, I pretended to be angry with my lover and pointed my cigarette at him in an accusatory manner. "You dirty, nasty bastard, Simon, you promised not to make squirts if I kissed your nasty thingy, didn't you?" I demanded finishing my cigarette with pleasure.

Simon, didn't apologise, or even reply, he just lay back, sated and with a huge grin on his face.

"You're impossible," I added petulantly, and took out my makeup mirror to assess the damage to my beautiful makeup. "Just look at me," I accused, "my face looks a bloody mess! You naughty bastard," I added to press the point of my indignation home.

My lipstick was a mess, smeared around my lips, my foundation makeup was likewise smeared and shiny rivulets of sperm followed the wrinkles from the corners of my mouth, mascara had run down my cheeks in black streaks. I was full of pretended indignation as I sat on the floor, feeling beautifully used and discarded, as I retrieved makeup from my handbag and started to once again make myself beautiful. Simon ignored my protestations, he was happy and fulfilled, just as any man should after using his sissy wife.

Carefully standing in my high heels, I smoothed down my skirt and sat beside my lover on the sofa and felt his strong arm come behind me and rest on my slim waist. I realised that the retro fetish porn film was still playing on the television as I checked my face in the small makeup mirror and I delighted in the renewed realisation that I truly was as those women pretended to be. I looked like, and was, a used whore.

The taste of my lover's sperm was still in my mouth and I savoured it as I took out the dark, liquid foundation and applied another layer to my ravaged face after carefully removing the streaks of black, run mascara. After adding fixing powder, more blusher and outlining my lips with dark pencil I reshaped my black eyebrows. Luckily my false eyelashes were still perfectly in place so I applied two coats of mascara to them and my lower lashes before re-lining my eyes thickly with black kohl liner. I once again admired my thickly-caked makeup as I put on fresh, glossy red lipstick over my already, deeply-stained lips. I added a thick mist of hairspray to my hair and more of the heady perfume to my neck and wrists.

My face was again looking at it's perfect best, I was satisfied with the repair job and finished, of course by taking out a long, white cigarette, placing it between my crimson lips and lit it, inhaling deeply, totally happy and fulfilled. This was my life and I loved it, I loved every part of it. I was whole. Simon gazed at me with his deepest love and affection, "You're beautiful, Aunty Gina."

With Simon's lust for the time being, satiated, we cuddled up together on the sofa and watched some "normal" television for an hour, until I announced that I was feeling "pooped" and that it was time for bed.

I stood up and started to tidy the cushions and cleared away my brimming ashtrays, full of lipstick-smeared cigarette ends, tidied around in the kitchen and put our dishes away. Lighting another cigarette, I walked back into the living room and standing before Simon, bent down to give him a delicate kiss on his warm lips and told him that I was going up to bed and I would see him in the morning. Simon savoured my cigarette smoke as my lips lingered on his as I exhaled.

"Night, aunty Gina. Have a good night's sleep," he replied with a smile, "I'll be up to bed in a while." He reached forward to fondle my stocking-sheathed legs and tenderly slid his hands down to the padlocks of the ankle straps of my high heels. He then took a small key from his pocket and unlocked each silver padlock in turn.

"There, Aunty, now you can get ready for bed."

"Thank you, Simon," I replied and as seductively as I could, teetered from the room, pausing at the door, turning to blow him a smoky kiss, "Night, night, darling."

In our bedroom, I closed the door behind me and with mounting excitement started to prepare myself for bed. I removed my skirt and blouse and hung them in the wardrobe. Finally able to take off my high heels I felt a delicious relief at putting my aching feet down flat on the soft carpet and wriggled my toes.

Sitting at the dressing table I unfastened my dark tan, seamed nylons and carefully rolled them down my silky-smooth legs and placed them into the laundry basket, and then unfastened my lovely suspender belt and dropped it casually to the floor and removed my long-line bra. For me, this was probably the most exciting part of our role-play, getting ready for bed and creating a lovely image for my lover, and I felt a little stirring of my tiny cockette caused by the sexual anticipation. I took my cigarette from the ashtray and gratefully inhaled deeply, admiring my beautifully-made-up image in the mirror, the white cigarette looking so feminine between my red-tipped, slender fingers.

From the drawers beside the dressing table I selected a black, satin, open-bottomed girdle which had eight suspenders to hold my stockings perfectly. I took out a pair of "Aristoc", black, fully-fashioned nylons and carefully opened the packet, and put them on, delightfully hampered by my long finger nails making the process difficult, having to be so careful so as not to cause a ladder in the delicate nylon.

After attaching them to my suspender straps I stood to check that the seams were straight and smoothed them up my thighs, adjusting the straps so that the stockings were held high up my thighs, framing my exposed, rounded bottom-cheeks.

I then set about adding more foundation, powder and makeup to my already overly-made-up face. I reshaped my eyebrows and put on more eyeshadow, relined my eyes with black khol eyeliner and added another two coats of thick, black mascara to my already-caked eyelashes. Lastly, I re-lined my lips and added another coat of thick, greasy, red lipstick. My face was a beautiful mask of caked-on makeup and as I took another long, sensual drag on my white cigarette, I knew that I looked perfect for my lover.

Walking over to the wardrobe, I selected my special, bed-time "hair-style" from the shelf to replace the one I was wearing. This was a style exactly like the one it was to replace, except that all the hair had been carefully placed in large, pink hair-rollers to create the perfect image of what a lady would do with her hair at bedtime.

Back at the dressing table I removed my hair and replaced it with the bed-time one, carefully fitted it and checking that the fixing tapes would hold it securely. I looked the perfect image of an overly-made-up, mature lady ready for bed and as I finished my cigarette, I felt so happy to be living the Gina I really was intended to be.

To complete my image, I put on a black, totally transparent, knee-length, black negligee and tied the delicate ribbons into bows. I realised that I needed to pee so walked through to the en-suite and as I did so, caught sight of the image of myself in the large wardrobe mirrors, looking so feminine and obviously so sissy, as my little cockette was clearly visible through the diaphanous nylon negligee, peeping out from the bottom of the black girdle. I looked delightful and so sexy.

As I sat down to pee, being careful not to relax my anus too much and expel any of more of my lover's semen than what was leaking from me, I delighted in the atmosphere of my weekend bathroom; the shelves stacked with soft, fluffy towels, masses of highly-scented talcum powders, and all my sanitary products -- boxes of liquid douches, packets of enema powders, enema suppositories and pessaries together with enema equipment, nozzles and applicators. There was also a plentiful supply of "super" tampons and sanitary pads ready for next weekend, when I was due to have my "period" - a delightful addition to our role-play, when I would, every hour or so, have to change my tampon and sanitary pad due to the heavy discharge I had to endure created by deep-cleansing enemas and the injection of my "period" itself -- a home-made "trial-and-error" formulation consisting of strawberry jam, flour-paste and colouring -- either by myself or by my husband after enduring a slow, belly-cramping enema whilst being laid across his lap.

Finished peeing, I went back through to the bedroom and picked up my cigarettes, lighter, makeup mirror and lipstick, placing them on the bedside cabinet beside the ashtray. I returned to the dressing table and put on more perfume and sprayed my hairstyle with lots of heavily-scented hairspray. I was nearly ready for bed, but there was a final finishing touch to my feminine image. Once again walking to the wardrobe I took out a pair of black, six-inch heel stilettos, and sat on the bed to put them on. The heels were so extreme that they were impossible to walk in, but as I put them on and locked the silver padlocks of the ankle straps, I delighted again in the way they made my feet arch cruelly, being truly "come-fuck-me heels". I was locking myself again willingly into feminine submission all for my lover's pleasure and would be gaining my own by being used and "abused" as my sissy-soul craved.

Carefully standing in the extreme heels, I once again tried to take a few steps, as I had done so many times before but finding the heels so high and impossible, I sat back down on the bed and readied myself for bedtime. The satin sheets of the bed allowed my nylon-sheathed body to slide seductively into a sitting position, the large, white, satin pillows feeling so soft and feminine around me.

I reached out and took a cigarette and lit it, also picking up a book from the bedside cabinet and relaxed back into the soft pillows, ready to read. As usual my preferred reading was an old, "Mills and Boon"-type romantic novel, perfectly suitable for a "lady" of my age, though I doubted that I would get much reading done tonight, and with mounting excitement I tried to concentrate on the story as I smoked my cigarette, waiting for the inevitable.

I didn't have long to wait. Half an hour later, and two cigarettes smoked, there was a gentle knocking on the bedroom door. "Come!" I responded, and Simon's head appeared round the door. ""What do you want, Simon?" I said in mock exasperation.

Coming into the bedroom, Simon said, "I just wanted to make sure that you were comfortable, aunty, and to see if there was anything you needed. A drink maybe, or anything else?" he queried.

I took a long, deep drag on my freshly-lit cigarette and inhaled deeply, "Thank you, Simon, but I have all I need but you can come and give me a goodnight kiss before you go to bed, if you promise to be a good boy for aunty."

Simon closed the bedroom door behind him and came over to the bed and sat down. I knew that he was aroused at my image as his cock was tenting out his joggers, which he made no effort to hide. As he placed a hand on my stocking-clad thigh he took in and relished the sight of my erotic image displayed before him. His eyes travelled to my bedtime extreme heels, along my nylon-sheathed legs and up my slim, girdled body. He smiled wickedly as he leaned close to me, breathing deeply the heavy scents of my perfume, makeup and hairspray, and kissed me gently on the lips as cigarette smoke leaked between them from my exhale.

"There, Simon. Good night, darling," I offered, but then Simon's kiss became stronger as he forced his tongue between my lips and started to probe, tasting my cigarette breath and lipstick, kissing me fully and passionately with his warm lips. I mock-protested against his passions and tried to push him away uttering, "No, Simon, please don't do that, dear, you'll mess up all my makeup! Leave me alone, Simon, I just want to go to sleep."

Simon took the book I was reading from my grasp and threw it down beside the bed and moved his body onto the bed, sitting beside me, holding me down with his weight. As I tried to protectively curl up my body, wriggling in his grasp, his hand slid up and down my legs fondling the taut suspenders, my nylon-covered thighs and down to feel the extreme stiletto heels that I was locked in, forced to wear for his pleasure. He moaned with an animalistic lust, relishing his own power over me and my total feminine submission to his needs.

I continued to protest against his fondling, wriggling within his grasp and trying to escape my predicament, but of course managing to take deep drags on my cigarette between Simon's passionate kisses, and breathing my smoke into his warm mouth as he probed mine with his warm tongue, relishing my smoky exhales.

His hands were all over my body, feeling my nylon-clad legs, my rounded bottom and my slim waist, lingering over the extreme stiletto heels of my bed-shoes, feeding his lust and fetish needs. As I finished my cigarette, Simon allowed me to stub it out, but ordered me to immediately light another after I'd refreshed my lipstick and then continued to "force" his "unwanted" kisses upon me and I struggled and writhed within his grasp, breaking his kisses to allow me to take drags on my cigarette and resuming to breath in my smoky breath.

Simon shifted his body until I was pinned beneath his, holding my free arm down in a firm, but gentle grip. I writhed and wriggled in his grasp and delighted in the feeling of being totally unable to escape my lover's domination over me. I was weak and feeble, submissive to his force and I was a true sissy, a delightfully beautiful, whorish, mature sissy "Aunty" and I knew, and relished, that I was going to be forcibly "ravished" by my lover.

As I took a deep drag on my cigarette, Simon, moved his legs between mine, forcing my legs apart, his weight and power still pinning me beneath is body.

"No, Simon, no!" I murmured. "Get off me, you nasty bastard," I pleaded, "leave me alone to go to sleep, you naughty boy! You are not going to fuck me, you bastard, you've done me once already and Aunty can't take any more!" I pleaded. "Leave me alone, you bastard," I added, knowing that Simon loved it when I explained, "I'm just a fragile old lady, Simon, and old ladies can't be fucked like you need to do it!"

Simon waited until I took another drag on my cigarette, then kissing me again, said, "Now, now, aunty, even an old lady like you, who dresses and looks like a fuck-slut," he said, fondling my body and running his hand up and down my legs, "knows there's nothing you can do to stop me from fucking you like the slut you are. You drive me crazy, you old slut," he added as he started to remove his joggers, keeping his weight on me pinning me to the bed. "You know where my cock's going whether you like it or not!"

"No, Simon, darling, please don't fuck aunty," I pleaded, "aunty is so sore from your cock already," I added as I writhed under his body, feigning to protest but knowing that I was only inflaming his passion. I took a drag on my cigarette, excited at my pending ravishment at the hand of my strong, forceful lover, unable to escape from his advances, gripped by his muscular body and hardy able to move as his weight pinned me down.

Simon pulled me to him, his forceful hands holding me around my waist, his joggers discarded and dropped beside the bed, kneeling between my stocking-clad thighs, and lifted my legs up so they were up in the air resting on his hairy chest, the extreme stiletto heels of my shoes pointing erotically towards the ceiling.

My bottom cheeks were only inches from his hairy balls and totally erect, hard cock and I involuntarily relaxed my arse in readiness to receive him deep within my willing rectum. As I took a comforting drag on my cigarette, Simon placed the head of his cock warmly and forcefully against the puckered opening of my arse. "Please, Simon," I weakly murmured, "please don't fuck me, you bastard. No, please don't do me, Simon, aunty's hole is so sore and hurting," I pleaded.

Simon watched me as I raised my cigarette to take a drag and as I did so, pushed the head of his cock firmly against my arse-lips and opened me up, sliding the head in and relished the sight of me exhaling smoke between my teeth as I gasped, "Oh, Jesus, fucking hell, Simon, you naughty bastard, no, please no, don't fuck me!"

Simon grinned at my protestations, relishing the effect that his cock in my arse was having on me, but forced his cock deeper into my hole increasing his pleasure.

As I took another drag on my cigarette, my lover withdrew his cock a little, the easier for him to go even deeper. I sensuously exhaled cigarette smoke into his face and gazed up at him; my beautiful lover was about to fuck me, use me "against my will", an old lady, a sissy old lady, dressed and looking like and being both our fetish dreams, a cigarette-smoking, whorishly-made-up, old lady to be used as a fuck doll.

Simon leaned forward to savour my exhaled cigarette smoke and kiss me wetly, tasting his favourite lipstick and smoky breath as he slowly forced his cock deeper into my rectum, my arse-lips fully stretched to receive it, taking it deep and achingly within my body. I moaned with pleasure as his cock sunk fully into me, stretching my hole and feeling it's filling girth rubbing the tender slipperiness of my already well-fucked rectum, but simply moaned a weak, "No, no, Simon, please, no, please don't do me," as I tried to wriggle from the strong grip he had around my waist.

My lover kept his cock deep within me, allowing me to relish the feel of it filling me, knowing that I loved the aching pleasure of him completely balls-deep inside his slut, my arse-lips stretched and weakly gripping his loving, engorged shaft.

I took another deep, soothing, fulfilling drag of my cigarette as Simon withdrew slightly and then started to slowly, full me deeply again. I moaned with pleasure as his balls rested against my bottom as he was fully inside me, breathing out my cigarette smoke as he once again withdrew slowly and then pushed again deeply within my rectum. "Oh, Simon, you are such a naughty boy with Aunty. I'm going to have to tell your mother what a nasty bastard you have been to me and she won't be very happy with your behaviour!" I threatened. "Oh, fuck, you bastard," I said exhaling cigarette smoke as he once again thrust his cock into me deeply. "Oh, you bastard, please no, Simon, no Simon, you can't fuck an old lady, Simon, it's not nice!" I added.