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Rated: 13+ · Other · Other · #1565170
A man enjoys his vice and is visited by a woman.
He exhaled.

A thick plume of smoke shot out past his pale lips, followed by twin trails from his nostrils. Sweet smoke. He pulled on the tight roll once more, then again, and finally a third time. Opening his mouth wider, right hand held out in front of his face, he emptied his lungs. His hand disappeared for a brief moment, gray consuming the space. He glanced about his small inn room, his dark eyes following the wisps. They looked to be thin threads as they drifted about, weaving amongst one another endlessly. Gazing at his ceiling, he watched it consume his sweet smoke, holes in the floor boards from knots that had popped out long ago.

He chuckled, that simple act in itself was wonderful, it brought joy to his barren soul. Running his calloused fingers through his long gray hair, he inhaled the heavy air, tendrils of smoke twisting and bending towards his mouth. How many had he consumed so far? Reaching under his messy bed he pulled out the small tray he had asked Keenan to craft for him. Despite the ashes and black remains, it was still breathtaking. Oval in shape, dipped towards the center so it was concave, its edge was covered with a band of empyrean. On that were small raised circles of tekrhan, of which were encircled by daemon skull. The rest of it was crafted from pure gold, with a design of a fierce dragon in the center. Even with the numerous roaches that littered its surface, the dragon stood out, its etched lines filled with hekhranish.

That Keenan could make anything.

It wasn't long before his count went past thirty, so he shook his head and pulled on his beauty, savoring its flavor and heat. He almost exhaled, but then grinned as he noticed how much was left. It was but the length of a halved ring finger, so he pressed his soft lips on its tip once more. Drawing on it as if his life depended on it, it was gone in three seconds. He dropped the roach, shaking his fingers and rubbing his lips.

"Yeah that was hot!" he said as he opened a brown case, it contained nine more rolls. He snatched one and lit it with his flickering candle, then snapped the box shut and slid it under his bed. Puffing it twice, flaring it into its brief life, he heard footsteps traveling down the squeaky stairs. It was most likely Goldie, the barkeep. She also happened to be the innkeeper, who had a wonderfully round, firm bottom even though she was going on forty.

With a light touch, someone knocked on the door. He just sat there on his lumpy bed and took another drag, letting the smoke roll around in his mouth until it began to reach out, as if trying to escape in vain. He took it in, with it the smoke that had crawled from his mouth along the air. The door swung open with a loud creak, all the built up smoke pushing past a short petite woman, with a small round face that was far too cute for her age. She squeaked with surprise as she was overwhelmed by the massive gray cloud.

"U-Uzriel! Sto-" With the blunt pursed between his lips, he pressed a finger against her mouth and pulled her in, then shut the door. "Just in time my beautiful Goldie. You plan on smoking with me, right? Good." He said as he bent down and retrieved a fat burlap sack, round shapes pressing at the sides, hinting at what was inside. Goldie's deep blue eyes stared at it, "How much is that?"

"Five..thousand," Uzriel said in between his hits, holding the bag next to his thigh. "Puff, puff, pass Goldie."

She groaned but took it anyway, taking a light drag. She coughed, lightly at first but then raggedly. She attempted to hand it back, he shook his head. "I said puff, puff, pass, not puff, pass," Her watery eyes pleaded and he sighed. "Fine, fine. But you're taking three hits on the next pass!"

Pain clearly evident from the grimace on her face, she pulled on it, this time with far more effort. Her nostrils flared as she held in the unforgiving smoke. She squeaked several times as she fought to hold it in. After a short battle, she exhaled without a single cough. "Oh my, that did it," the creases eased away as the herb took her in its fuzzy, loving embrace. With a snatch it was once more in Uzriel's mouth, he hit it with a vengeance and took it in deeply, so much that a light crackle could be heard as the glowing orange traveled from the end to the middle, a generous column of ash falling towards the floor. Goldie frowned at his messy habits, but kept her mouth shut. She knew he wouldn't change even if she complained. Besides, he paid so well that she almost didn't care.

Uzriel eyed Goldie, a slight smirk on his face. He set the roll in the beautiful tray, saving it for later. He dropped the sack of gold and it thunked heavily. Uzriel looked at the stone wall and then back at her and her blond hair that had lines of gray, it reached past her shoulders. Goldie blushed as he bent down to brush his nose against her own, his height towered above her. "So shall we?" he said in a deeper voice. She giggled and nodded as Uzriel led her to his wall and hiked up the skirt of her faded red dress. Even though she had let out much of his smoke, plenty lingered in the air still. He took a deep breath.

"Goldie, you'll be raw before I'm done with you."
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