Denise slipped the cigarette between her lips and lit it, just as she had earlier. The cloud of smoke that soon covered you made you cough once more.
Denise got up and made her way into the kitchen, you securely pressed by her lip to her dangling Newport. You realized you were messaging her lip again, something you guess you had subconsciously told yourself to do.
“Your little hands make my lips feel tingly,” she cooed, pressing her lip down on you to take a deep drag as she poured herself a glass of orange soda.
Denise made her way back into the living room and plopped down on the sofa, removing you from the cigarette and blowing smoke on you the same way she had before. She placed you back on her belly, but this time she had lifted her blouse up so you were on her bare skin. He skin was warm to the touch, and you saw a trail of light fuzz that led down to her pants just below her belly button.
Your mother began to rub you around on her belly, squishing you into her fat. She’d stop to drink the soda and you could feel her gulps. You wondered if her fascination with you would wear down, or if this was your new life.
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