See A Shape In The Smoke

Lois breathed out, enjoying the feeling of the warm smoke leaving her mouth—you could get high from tobacco, just a little, but only the first couple of times. Before you built up a tolerance. She stared at the clouds of smoke, which hung in the air of the bathroom...watching them move, like she did as a child, seeing shapes...

There was a shape in the smoke. Barely an arm's length away, against the wall. It was still where the rest of cloud moved lazily in its expansion. Lois struggled to get a sense of it, but the overall suggestion was of...curves.

The cigarette' coal burned brighter as the reporter drew in another lungful. She squinted her eyes, then made as if she was looking at the tub, always keeping that shape in her peripheral vision—and this time when her lung burned and she blew the smoke out of her mouth, it was out the side, directly toward that path of wall.

This time the impression Lois got was clear and simple. Outlined in the smoke like bubbles floating in the air. Full and ripe and instantly familiar to any member of the human species.

Tits.

Now situated on those topographical features, Lois could fill in some of the other blanks...the trim outline of a stomach, the rough mass of a head, trailing legs. A little taller than Lois, a little more hourglass-shaped. Yet waiting here, invisible...had she been watching the reporter as she stripped for her bath? While the tub had filled with goo, and all that followed? Unseen, had she lit up and enjoyed the sight, only to...what? Be surprised when Lois had gotten out of the tub? Or had the cigarette been less an accidental clue than a trap...

Questions pounded through Lois' head, one after another, until she was dizzy. Even the tobacco-high and post-coital haze was quickly fading, leaving her to realize that she was cold and wet, covered in cooling, drying jizz, naked in a room with an unknown intruder... Lois knew she had to act, and there was only one thing to do.