Smoky

She draws from the cigarette like she knows exactly what it does to you. Wrist turned just so, fingers light around the filter. Smoke fills her lungs and she holds it, eyes half-lidded. When she lets it out, slow and even, her free hand slips between her thighs. She spreads them wider on the sheets, cigarette still balanced in the other hand. Her fingertips trace over bare skin until they find her clit. She rubs slow circles, hips lifting into her own touch, cigarette burning between lazy drags. Each inhale makes her fingers move faster. Her nipples tighten in the cool air. She presses two fingers inside, thumb still working her clit, and moans around the next mouthful of smoke. The room smells like tobacco and wet skin. She fucks herself steady, cigarette never leaving her lips for long, and keeps her eyes on the lens like she’s daring you to come closer.