Bewitching smoke

"Honey, are you done with your makeup yet? We'll be late if we don't leave soon!" "Alright, alright, you

always rush me. I'm putting on makeup for you, aren't I? Do you want to go out with a crow like me?" I said, touching up my makeup, then dashed to the door. My husband is a good-natured man and never gets impatient waiting for me to finish my makeup, but he still teased me: "Hehe, you old hag, no amount of makeup will help." "Hmph!" I was a little indignant that he looked down on his wife like that: "You have no idea how attractive I am. Men on the street keep staring at me. This morning, a young man even hit on me!"

"Hahaha..." My husband laughed dismissively, making me feel guilty.

Indeed, what I said earlier was all nonsense. No, the last sentence was actually somewhat true. The young man was a real person, but he just asked me where the bus went and how much the fare was while waiting in line for the bus.

I pouted, deciding not to argue with my husband.

The elevator door wasn't made of steel; its surface was polished to a shine, as bright as a mirror. I carefully examined myself in the mirror.

Although I'd been married for over a year, I was confident I'd taken good care of myself—I didn't look like a haggard old woman at all. (Even if I did, it would only be because I served him every day! He's such a heartless man.) Even if my appearance wasn't stunning, my gold-rimmed glasses and long, straight, jet-black hair made me look elegant, dignified, and refined—that's what attracted my husband to me back then. (While I can't say whether he still thinks that way now.) To prove I still had some appeal, I decided to entice that young man to approach me, though I wasn't sure if I'd see him again the next day.

The next day, I saw him queuing at the bus stop, so I deliberately walked in front of him, keeping my eyes on him. Finally, he saw me, and he saw me looking at him. Luckily, he recognized me, but he just gave me a stiff nod and that was it.

He could at least have smiled at me! For a moment, I was so angry I didn't want to talk to him anymore, but I also felt resentful.

We were on the same bus line. After I got on, I saw that his seat was empty, so I deliberately sat down.

This time, he took the initiative to greet me, but his tone was as stiff as his previous nod.

So I started a conversation, asking him pointless questions like, "Are you working?" and "Where do you work?" He answered almost every question, but it was always me asking him, and he seemed completely uninterested in me.

Was I trying to entice him to talk to me? I think I'm the one who's trying to talk to him now—what a failure!

I gradually lost interest, and finally the bus arrived at the terminal. After getting off, we took the escalator to the upper level, and I happened to be right behind him. Just as we reached the upper level, he suddenly turned around. It turned out he had lit a cigarette sometime during the journey and had it in his mouth. When he turned his head, he took the cigarette out of his mouth with his hand and opened his mouth wide, exhaling all the smoke at once.

He seemed to intentionally or unintentionally blow the smoke in my face. I didn't even have time to turn away, and ended up taking a drag myself. I didn't know what kind of cigarette he was smoking, but it smelled different from what I usually smelled.

I disgustedly waved my hand in front of my face, trying to disperse the smoke. This kind of smoke was truly awful; just one puff made me feel dizzy and lightheaded, and then I couldn't even stand up straight.

"Miss, what's wrong? Are you alright?" The young man in front of me stopped and helped me up when he saw me unsteady on my feet.

(He knew perfectly well why; it's all because of your cigarette…) I cursed inwardly, but dared not say it aloud, otherwise, if he turned and left, I think I definitely wouldn't be able to hold on and would collapse to the ground.

"Miss, let me help you find a place to rest." (Hmph! At least you have a little conscience…) My consciousness was becoming increasingly hazy, but I still tried my best to support myself and followed him.

He led me to a small, quiet garden surrounded by tall grass. Besides the young man and me, there seemed to be no one else there.

He helped me to a bench and said, "Miss, lie down and rest here." I obediently lay down. As soon as I lay down, he suddenly sat on top of me.

"What do you want!" Although my head was still foggy, my natural female instincts compelled me to react.

"Heh heh... a lone man and woman, what else can we do besides make love?" He suddenly turned menacing, a lewd grin spreading across his face.

I knew something was wrong and tried to push him away, but I found myself completely weak. I cried out, "Help!" but I was powerless, and my voice was barely audible.

"Don't struggle in vain. You think you can escape my clutches after inhaling my sleeping potion?"

"Hehe..."

So it was those cigarettes that were causing this...

He said as he took off my clothes.

"No... I beg you..." I pleaded with every last breath.

"If you say no now, you'll be begging me to take you when I've made you cum!" "No, I'm not that kind of person!" What did he take me for? Did he think I was some kind of easy woman?

"Whether you're a respectable woman or a slut, after inhaling my aphrodisiac cigarettes, just the slightest teasing will make you erupt like a flood, your juices flowing endlessly. Don't believe me? I'll show you right now..." I'd read a lot about cases of people being drugged with sleeping pills in the newspapers. You think sleeping pills can be an aphrodisiac? I didn't believe such a powerful thing existed.

But after a while, I had to believe it. He caressed me for a while, and I felt excited all over, and even wanted to have sex.

He inserted his penis into my wet vagina. Although I was rationally unwilling, my lower body received the fulfilling feeling I craved.

As he thrust wildly, my vagina involuntarily gripped his penis tightly—not to stop his intrusion, but to allow my sensitive areas to receive the impact of his male organ. To closely match his movements, my legs wrapped around his waist, and my hips swayed rhythmically. I

had never tried to cooperate with him so wantonly, not even when making love with my husband.

After the young man ejaculated on me, he left quickly, but I needed to rest for a while to recover. I was exhausted, so I called the company to ask for leave and went home to rest.

When I got home, my husband hadn't left for work yet. I lied and said I felt unwell on my way to work, so I asked for leave to rest.

After asking me a few questions, he suddenly wanted to tease me: "You turned back halfway, so you didn't see the young man who hit on you, did you?" The words "

young man" stung my nerves. I thought to myself: I not only saw him, I was raped by him!

Perhaps seeing the anger radiating from my face, my husband awkwardly said, "Just kidding, don't be so petty." "

You're never allowed to mention him again!" I shouted at him.

"Okay, okay... I won't tease you anymore. Here's a kiss, don't throw tantrums." You idiot, I wasn't being unreasonable, boohoo...

[The End]

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