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I was a naughty little girl, and broke my several months spell of cigarette free hell with a pack of my favorite organic menthols. It takes me a minute to light up, the wind blowing my lighter out and my skirt up. I talk about how dirty of a habit it is, and that despite that, I love it. I truly didn't realize I had a smoking fetish until I tried to quit. While I primarily vape, every few months or so I just can't hold back from my one true love, and have to sneak myself a pack to enjoy outside, in the bright sunshine. Cars keep driving by as I bliss out in a nicotine induced high, lifting my skirt as I take a puff. These cigarettes are packed particularly tight, so they smoke forever. My head is buzzing, and I can't help but sit back against the tree, my legs spread and skirt teasing, as I throw back my head and enjoy every delectable hit. I put my cigarette on the ground and carry the butt with me to discard (if you're going to be a smoker, at least be a responsible smoker!) and with that, retreat back into the comfort of my home, hoping I don't get caught indulging in my filthy fetish