Caramel Cigarettes [Ninth Addition]



I’m going to be taking some time to finish Caramel Cigarettes. At some point, I am going to stop adding new parts on here. I will be finishing the story and having it available as an Ebook. Of course, I will let you know when I will be publishing the LAST post.

Still need to catch up?









– Dahv

Warning: Lots of sexual content in this post. 


There were thirty minutes before Jacqueline’s class ended, and the coffee line stretched past the help desk. Left ear bud in, I shuffled through the playlists on my iPod. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a girl wearing a white sweatshirt, with the hood up, and a pair of aviators – walk into the student center. She walked by me and I smelled lemon grass.

“Hey stranger.” She was behind me.

She lowered her hood, unveiling her red hair topped with frizz and tangled into a bun, and pushed the aviators up, past her forehead.

I lowered the volume on my iPod. “Oh, hey.” My eyes were drawn to her lower lip. There, clipped to the center, was a silver ring ornamented with a purple jewel. “New piercing?”

She nodded. “I love purple.” Her tongue pushed the ring forward to let it turn. “So, what’d I miss in chem?”

“Just two labs.” I looked down at my phone. Jacqueline’s class ended in fifteen. “I did them though, so we are good.”

Nicky grabbed my bicep and pulled me to her. She rested her chin on my shoulder. “You’re so nice, Kelly.” Her hands stroked my arm. She tickled my wrist with her acrylics, until finally grabbing onto my hand. “We’re good, right Kell?”

I tightened my grasp around her hand and my ears felt hot. I thought back to how close we almost got, and how quickly she backed off. Thinking about us spooning, my denim packed heat. “Good?” I asked, loosening my grasp.

“Yeah,” she altered her embrace from my arm to my waist. Her hands lay limp over my belt buckle. “Things got weird last time.” She pressed her cheek against my back. “I’m not like that.”

“Like what?” I pulled her arms away and faced her.

“It’s weird to say.” She cleared her throat. “But I don’t like you like that.” Her gaze dropped to the floor.

“Oh.” I looked down, too. My eyes darted from floor tile to floor tile. I heard the person ahead of me make their order. Turning my back to Nicky, I stared at the menu above the espresso machine. My throat felt tight; chest shook when I inhaled before placing my order. I rubbed my eyes to keep tears from falling. I had no reason to be sad; I knew she was still playing me. There were five minutes left before Jacqueline’s class ended. I exchanged my cash for a coffee and left the line.

Standing outside of Jacqueline’s classroom, my eyes started to sting. Students polluted the hallway, leaving their classes amidst conversation. I sipped my coffee and removed my backpack from my shoulders. Widening my stance, I placed my bag between my legs. Once the other students had fled off to another class or building, Jacqueline left her classroom. Her hair was down and wavy – the ends crunched into a curl. Before approaching me, she stood in the doorway – hands on hips, left hip out. Her red shirt stopped just below her bellybutton. Hipbones, poking out, made a triangle with her third naval piercing. I just wanted to hold her. “Come here,” I said, putting my coffee down.

She twirled her thumb around a strand of hair. “No coffee for me?”

“Oh.” My throat tightened again. “I would have.” I stepped towards her. My bag fell on its side. “I just don’t know what you like.” I stopped in the middle of the hallway. “You can have mine.”

Jacqueline wrapped her arms around my neck. “Stop it.” She whispered. “I’m just playing with you.”

She kissed me lightly on the lips. Slipping my pointers into her belt loops, I pulled her in to kiss again.

“You taste like coffee.” She said in between kisses.

I tugged down on her belt loops; my thumbs prowled her midriff.

“Kell.” Starting at my neck, Jacqueline grabbed a chunk of my hair and ran her fingers through till she reached the ends. “We have to go.”

“Now?” I kissed her cheek. Keeping my hand in hers, I kneeled down, swung my bag on one shoulder and grabbed my coffee.

“I live only an hour away.” She said.

“Thank God.”

* * *

It was quarter past six when we arrived.

All of the lights were off except for the two porch lights. Her driveway, poorly paved and blemished with a couple potholes, circled around a cluster of pine trees. There was a three-car garage attached to the far left of her house. Jacqueline pulled up to one of the closed garage bays and parked. “Here we are,” she said.

Andrew Wyeth paintings hung on the walls. The floors, wooden and creaky, were covered with various rugs: some red with spirals, others green with white designs. “You hungry?” She asked, walking over to the kitchen.

The kitchen was decked with wooden cabinets and granite counters. A table with four chairs was in the center. Opening the fridge, she asked, “you like Nutella?”

“Love it.” I put my bag down next to the fridge and sat down at the table. Tapping my pointers against the edge of the table, I bobbed my left knee.

Jacqueline grabbed a jar of Nutella and marshmallow fluff, and a loaf of bread. Besides my tapping, all I could hear was the utensils drawer chime as she retrieved two knives. “It’s quiet.”

“Well, we’re alone.” She spread some Nutella on a slice of bread. “Do you want Nutella on both slices -”

“Alone?” My knee stopped bobbing. “Like, we are the only ones here?”

She dunked the knife back into the Nutella jar and let out a laugh. “Yes, Kell.” She opened the jar of marshmallow fluff. “That okay with you?”

My phone suddenly vibrated in my back pocket. “I’m totally cool with that.” I stuttered a bit as I grabbed for my phone.

New message from Nicky: “Hey…can we talk?”

Tossed onto the table, my phone slid off the edge and crashed on the floor.

Jacqueline shook at the sound. “What was that?”

“Sorry!” I leaned down and picked up my phone. In my hand, it vibrated again.

New message from Nicky: “I don’t want you to hate me.”

I rolled my eyes and turned off my phone before returning it to my pocket. Jacqueline came to the table with two paper plates. She handed me my sandwich and sat across from me. “You okay?” Her voice was soft when she spoke. “You want a drink?” She went to stand up.

I grabbed her arm. “I’m great. Sit down.”

With each bite, a thick line of fluff would trapeze from Jacqueline’s lips to the sandwich and drool down her chin. “I’m such a mess.” She rolled her eyes and rubber her finger down her chin. Sucking the fluff off of her finger, she giggled.

I moved over and sat in the chair next to her. “Can I have a bite?”

She shook her head, taking another bite. The fluff dribbled on her bottom lip. “You have your own sandwich.”

“We could switch,” I grabbed my plate as my other hand reached for hers.

She pushed my hand away. “No, Kelly.” She giggled. “Go back to your seat.”

“This is my seat.” I placed my plate in front of me. Smiling, I raised my eyebrows.

“Don’t do that.” She brought her hand up to her lips, holding back a laugh.

“Do what?” I leaned towards her; hand on her knee.

“Stop it.” She lowered her hand and voice.

“Stop what?” I stroke my hand slowly up her inner thigh. I turned my chair out.

Jacqueline looked down at my hand that was still thigh wandering and did the same to her chair. Now our knees were touching. “You’re so bad,” she whispered looking up at me.

I grabbed her hand and led her to me. She collapsed on my lap, where she straddled, with her hands in mine. Her hair fell over my eyes as we kissed. Our tongues met and the kiss tasted like s’mores.

Leaving the plates on the table and our bags on the floor, we ran upstairs.

Jacqueline closed the door behind her and jumped into my arms. She wrapped her legs around my waist and kissed me. She played with my tank top and bra straps. Twirling her fingers around the straps, she started pulling them down my shoulders. Bumping into her bed, we fell back. Jacqueline stayed on top of me and kissed down my neck. I sat up and took off my tank. I went to unclip my bra, but she pushed me back down. On her knees, she leaned down until her nose met my neck. With her right hand, she rubbed my crotch. As she pressed down, my panties rubbed up against my clit. I thrust up because I wanted more.

I pulled her down onto me and rolled over. Now I was on top of her. I sat up, in between her legs. Grabbing her by the thighs, I pushed her legs up until they bent. Now her feet were planted on the comforter. On my knees, I mounted over her with my hands beside her. She smiled up at me with out showing teeth. Her arms, reaching out to the sides, had goose bumps. My heart pounded, kicked my ribcage. We were both nervous.

I smiled down at her before kissing her. She still tasted like marshmallows. I peeled her shirt back slowly – inch by inch, piercing by piercing. Starting at her waistband, I kissed her and worked my way up her midriff. Her piercings felt cool on my lip like I had imagined: cool and metallic, tasting like pennies. I peeled her shirt past her bra. She sat up and removed her shirt, throwing it across the room. She then undid her belt and slipped her jeans down mid-thigh. I left the bed and slipped her jeans off all the way. Grabbing her by the hips, I brought her closer to the edge of the bed. Her legs, closed, crossed at the ankle, dangled off the side of the bed. I tucked my pointer and middle finger into her panties. Keeping my eyes on her, I lowered my fingers into the depths of her panties until I felt her clit: so wet and warm.

“You’re so wet,” I whispered.

Jacqueline took my hand out of her panties. “Kelly.” Her voice shook. Goose bumps migrated to her chest. “I don’t -”

“Do you not like me?”

“What?” She pulled me down to sit beside her. “Of course I like you.” She blushed and looked away.

“Why are you blushing?” I nestled my nose against her birthmark. Her hair smelled like strawberry.

“Cause I really like you.” Her eyes widened when she looked at me; right eyebrow twitched.

“You make me happy.”

She blushed again. I kissed her on the cheek and she blushed even more. I wanted to keep kissing her, holding her, complimenting her just to see how much she’d open up.

“You’re okay with taking it slow?” She sat on my lap and rubbed her fingers through my hair.

“Of course.”

She turned towards me and straddled my lap. I rubbed my thumbs in circles, along her hipbones. She laughed beside my ear. “Do you like my hipbones?”

“No,” I wrapped my arms around her waist and held her tight. “I like you.”


Photo Credit


Add comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.