“Maybe that one thing I like,” you asked sheepishly.
“Ugh, fine,” she said. “Your smoking fetish is soooo weird. Mom, Natalie, and Colleen all smoke too you know,” Jess said, placing you on the filter of her American Spirit and lighting it. Jess backed out of the driveway, you securely squeezed between her cigarette and upper lip. She took a deep drag and removed the cigarette from her lips, her finger holding you in place. She exhaled a thick stream of smoke on you.
She pulled into school and took one final drag, coating you in smoke, and removing you from the cigarette before crushing it out in the ashtray.
“No more smoking fetish,” she said sternly.
“Maybe on the ride home? I’ll rub your feet tonight!”
“Fiiiiiiine,” she relented, and hopped out of the car.
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