Graduation Gift, Part 2

    "GRADUATION GIFT" by Dar.
    Part 2

    This story contains language which depicts sexual arousal due to smoking
cigarettes. Those who are offended by such language should read no further.

    Persons who wish to make comments about the story are requested to post
them on the smoking glamour bulletin board: alt.smokers.glamour

    * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


    Bill looked down at his lap, trying to figure out what had caused his
arousal, and trying to adjust his position a bit on the bar stool. When he
looked up, he saw that the blonde smoker was no longer sitting across from
him. "I wonder where SHE went", he began thinking again. "Probably to the
emergency room to have a lung transplant! Or more likely, a brain transplant!"
he chuckled to himself.

    He felt a sudden tap on his shoulder.

    Bill swiveled around on the stool. The blonde was standing there, lit
cigarette in hand, looking him right in the face with a wry smile on her lips.

    "I know your type," she began. "You didn't think that I could tell that
you were staring at me. But I could see you out of the corner of my eye,
mister."

    "I'm sorry, I didn't mean any harm..." Bill began to explain.

    "No harm done, and no offense taken," she said. "But I can tell when a man
has the fetish really bad, and you look kind of lonely, so here is a little
treat, just for you." She put her cigarette in her mouth, and began a long
inhale.

    "Look, I didn't...what, what fetish?...I don't...," Bill began stammering,
as the blonde let the smoke rise from her lips, french inhaling it smoothly
into her nose. "You...you've got it all wrong, ma'am...you see, I was just..."
She leaned over, just inches from him.

    The full force of her exhale hit him straight in the middle of his face,
just as he was pausing to take a breath. As the first bit of smoke entered his
nose, he started to cough, which caused him involuntarily to inhale a full
breath...a full breath of the blonde's rich smoke. Bill just looked at her
with wide eyes.

    "Sorry, sweetie," she smiled, "that's all you get from me! I already have
my own man who appreciates my smoking. You'll just have to find your own
woman." She turned on her heel, and walked out of the lounge.

    Bill sat on the stool, in a daze. His lungs felt warm, as though they had
been wrapped in a thick blanket on a cold night. As he breathed out, he could
see little wisps of smoke coming from his nose. A strange feeling, both smooth
and tingly at the same time, seemed to come over him. His thoughts began to
return, but he felt very confused. "What happened to me? Why, she should be
arrested. Well, maybe not...I'm still alive. I feel okay. Hey, I just survived
a poison gas attack!" As he started to swivel back to the bar to finish his
coke, Bill's muddled thinking suddenly got jolted to attention as he became
aware that he now had a much bigger and harder erection than before. "And what
was that she was saying about a fetish?" he wondered. Bill decided it was time
to head back upstairs, as soon as he could relax a minute so that the front of
his trousers would not be bulging out as he walked.

    * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

    Irene lit another cigarette. "I love smoke," she said. "Meg, you were
talking about how the smoke looks when it rises from your cigarette, and that
big puff of smoke just before you inhale, and then blowing the smoke out of
your lips. Let me add one more. I used to enjoy looking in the mirror and
seeing the a huge mouthful of smoke disappear down my throat as I inhaled.
Like this..." Turning her face to Meg, Irene took a long drag, held the smoke
in her mouth for a couple seconds, let it puff out, and then opened her mouth
as she smoothly breathed it in. She giggled, "What do you think, Meg? Your old
Mom is pretty good at this, isn't she?" The smoke punctuated her words, and
then she took three more quick puffs on top of each other. As Irene exhaled,
the smoke came out thicker and creamier than ever.

    "Mom, you have always looked sharp," said Meg. "I can tell already that
you'll be able to give me some pointers on looking cool when I'm smoking."

    "Oh, I will," said Irene, "but it's more than that. It's the smoke. I love
the smoke. That's why I turned off the room ventilator. I like the smoke to
get really thick. Meg, this week I'll show you how to really max out on smoke.
Oh, to think that I've been missing this for over two decades!"

    "Are you sure you haven't been sneaking some smokes during that time?" Meg
asked. "You seem to be so good at smoking. Are you really telling me that you
haven't smoked for over twenty years?"

    "Meg, I'm as surprised as you," Irene answered. "I guess it's like riding
a bicycle. Once you learn how, you don't forget. And believe me, from age
fourteen to about twenty, I mastered the art of smoking. So now it's time to
pass on some of the tricks and joys to you."

    "Mom, I can't wait to learn from you," said Meg, "but I still can't figure
out something. Don't you think that Dad is going to be a big problem?"

    Irene smiled. "I have a plan for your dad...a big plan. And Meg, you can
help me. Just keep smoking, as much as possible!"

    There was a knock at the door.

    "That will be your father," said Irene. "Bill," she called out, "please
come in."

    * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

    Bill had been thinking to himself while waiting for the elevator to go
back upstairs to their hotel room. "I know I was over-reacting to Meg. I
shouldn't get so angry. I need to figure out just what has been REALLY
bothering me lately. Anyway, whatever it is, I shouldn't take it out on her. I
know Meg has had time to put out her cigarette by now, and maybe if I just
talk to her like a father instead of a warden, then she'll realize on her own
that smoking is foolish. I don't want to back her into a corner where she
feels she has to prove something to me. And I'm sure that Irene has been
talking to her while I was downstairs, and probably has the whole matter
worked out. When we get home, if Meg still thinks that she wants to smoke, she
could just go outside like they do at some businesses, and then she'll soon
realize that it's just too much bother, and she'll quit."

    The elevator door opened. Bill got on and continued his thoughts. "What
really has me confused is what just happened downstairs in the lounge. I know
it's crazy, but that blonde with her cigarette seemed to turn me on. No, no,
no...that can't be true. That doesn't make any sense. So what was it? Maybe I
was just so mad that my energy just got focused in the wrong direction. And
then that blonde just startled me. Yeah, that's what it was. It must have been
just a one time weird reaction to the unexpected."

    Bill got off the elevator and started walking down the hallway toward the
room. "The strange thing is that I still don't know what she meant about a
fetish. Well, she's probably in some crackpot group that does ritual animal
sacrifices while they smoke cigarettes and burn incense or something. It sure
doesn't have anything to do with me. Anyway, at least I didn't pass out when
she blew all that pollution right at me. And now, fortunately, I won't have to
worry about breathing in anybody else's smoke."

    He knocked at the door and heard Irene say to come in.

    * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

    As Bill opened the door, the wall of solid smoke hit him like a truck. He
gasped, took a short step back, and then decided to enter the room anyway.
"What is going on in here?" he cried. "The fire department is going to think
that they'll have to bring extra equipment!"

    Irene looked at him coming through the door. "Bill, get your rear end in
here and sit down. We need to talk." She put her cigarette to her mouth and
began a long draw. Sitting next to her on the bed, Meg did the same.

    Bill got three steps into the room when it began to dawn on him what was
going on. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at his wife.

    Irene exhaled her smoke in his direction. "Bill, I told you to get in
here. Now do I have to say it a third time, or do you just want to have
another one of your fits and go hide someplace for another twenty minutes?
Come in and sit down."

    Bill walked into the hotel room. He felt like he could hardly breathe. The
amount of smoke in the room was overwhelming. He sat down and looked at Irene,
then at Meg, then back at Irene, and saw them each take another puff on their
cigarettes. He tried to speak calmly. "When I left here, my daughter was
smoking a cigarette, which I could not believe. Now, Irene, you have one also.
Are you both just trying to gross me out? Irene, if you want to let Meg smoke,
you don't need to go along with her filthy habit. And I can't breathe!"

    "Bill, you need to calm down," said Irene, "and get over this stuff about
you can't breathe. You can breathe just fine." She blew another plume of smoke
in his direction. "Go ahead, Bill, just breathe in like you would anytime.
It's called second-hand smoke, and it is thoroughly mixed with plenty of air.
Take a breath and get used to it."

    Bill stared at her as he went and sat down in a chair by the window. "Just
what do you mean, get used to it?" he asked, trying not to breathe.

    Irene was taking a long drag on her cigarette. She inhaled deeply and
began speaking as the smoke puffed out with her words. "You will notice that I
just inhaled a large puff of smoke. Think of it as first-hand smoke, right out
of my cigarette, full-strength. Now, what do you see? The smoke is coming out
of my mouth. I'm sitting here, alive and well. I'm talking to you. I haven't
passed out, have I? In fact, Bill, I like it. I like it a lot. Watch me do it
again."

    Irene took another long drag, popped the smoke in a tight ball in front of
her lips, and inhaled deeply, letting her breasts rise. She paused with the
smoke in her lungs, smiled at Bill, and began blowing the smoke in another
long plume right at her husband. "So Bill, you be the judge. If I can inhale
all this full-flavored smoke, and do just fine, you can sit there and breathe
some diluted smoke and do just fine also. Just try it. Stop that baby-like
shallow breathing, and just relax and breathe in the air around you. You might
like it too."

    Bill started to protest, "Look, I don't want to suck that poison into
my..."

    "Bill, come over her and sit down next to me on the bed," Irene gently
said. "Trust me, Bill, this won't hurt you a bit. Come on..." Irene began
another long, slow draw on her Benson & Hedges as Bill got up from his chair.
Meg took another puff on her cigarette, and watched with amazement.

    Irene inhaled her smoke, and then blew it out at right angles to Bill, so
he could get a good look at the smoke coming from her lips. She put out her
spent cigarette in the ash-tray as Bill sat next to her.

    "Irene, I just want to know what is going on here," he said. "This is very
confusing."

    "Bill, it's actually very simple. We learned today that our daughter Meg
here has become a smoker. What you didn't know is that I smoked also, before I
met you. I gave it up for you and for Meg. But when I saw Meg smoking today,
well, I just got excited all over again about smoking. So I have made the
decision that I am going to resume smoking. Now, you need to get something
straight right now. Meg and I aren't going to go hiding in the basement or
outside. When we get home, we are going to smoke right in the house. What I am
letting you know is that you need to get used to it and accept it. So Bill,
quit fighting it. Enjoy yourself and take a deep breath. Don't say anything
yet. Just take a couple deep breaths and then tell me how you honestly feel."

    "Do what now?" Bill scowled.

    "You heard me," Irene said in a firm voice. "You heard exactly what I
said. And I mean it. Just relax, Bill. Relax. Take a couple of deep breaths.
Please! Just try doing what I am telling you. Believe me, this will not hurt
you! Now go ahead. Breathe in...nice and deep. And just tell me what you
think."

    Bill visibly relaxed his posture and did as Irene had asked him. "Irene, I
don't like it. It's like the air is thick."

    "See, it's all in your attitude," replied Irene. "For example, you drink
water. You also like chocolate milkshakes. They're both good to drink, but the
shake is thicker, right? Now, when you want a shake, you want it thick and
rich. So I breathe air, obviously, but I also like smoke, and one of the
reasons I like it is that it's not just plain air. I like smoke precisely
because it is thick and heavy and rich. In fact, just talking about it makes
me want to light up another one." She withdrew another long, white B&H from
the pack, put it in her mouth, and lit up. Irene blew the smoke away from
Bill.

    "But what about the smell?" asked Bill.

    "Again, it's an attitude thing," Irene answered. "At first, you might
think that it smells bad, but just change your thinking a bit. Think exotic.
Think sensuous. Think spicy. Actually, I like the way smoke smells. Watch..."
She took another long puff on her cigarette, and kept the smoke in her mouth.
She then held the cigarette just under her chin so that the smoke from the tip
of the cigarette rose up over her lips. As it reached her nose, she opened her
lips and french-inhaled the mixture of smoke from her mouth and from the
burning cigarette. She then exhaled through her nose. "See, Bill, I like the
way this smells. Smoke is good."

    Meg spoke up. "Is that one of your ways you like to...how did you put
it?...max the smoke, Mom? If so, I'm going to give that one a try right now,
but I think I've got a variation for you." Meg took a long drag, held her
cigarette so that the smoke began caressing her lips, and then just opened her
lips. The rising smoke seemed to pour into Meg's lips, as it followed her puff
down into her lungs. "Wow, Mom. I like that."

    "You see, Bill," continued Irene, "it's all in your attitude. You want to
be stiff and nervous? Then that's how you will be. But Meg and I like to
smoke, and we share the attitude that smoking is fun. It is truly a pleasure
and a treat. Now, you can make up your own mind if you ever want to try
smoking. But our minds are made up. A couple minutes ago you took in a little
breath and said you didn't like it." Irene paused to take a double puff and
add to the thick smoke in the air. "So just close your eyes and take two or
three nice slow breaths now."

    Bill began relaxing. He thought to himself that if he could survive that
direct blast from the blonde in the lounge, surely this couldn't be so bad. He
closed his eyes and began breathing in slowly. Irene winked at Meg, and they
each took a double-pump of smoke and smoothly exhaled in Bill's direction.
Keeping his eyes closed, he could feel a kind of warm glow come over himself.
The smoky air indeed was thick, but he reflected on Irene's words, and tried
to accept it as a different experience, not as something automatically bad.
Irene and Meg blew more smoke his way as he breathed in a second time, more
deeply this time. It didn't seem to smell so bad now. Actually, it seemed
almost pleasant. Maybe he was just getting used to it. Except he noted that
his bothersome erection was starting to return.

    "Bill, maybe you are relaxing and enjoying this a bit too much," teased
Irene.

    "So how about it, Dad," asked Meg. "Can we get along together on this?"

    "Irene and Meg," said Bill, as he opened his eyes, "it is obvious that I
can't change your minds about this, so I will promise to try to not give you a
hard time. I am sitting here, breathing in all your smoke for the last ten
minutes, and you are right. I haven't passed out or died. But I would like
some fresh air. How about if we all go downstairs to the restaurant and have a
nice dinner together?"

    Irene knew she had won round one, so she smiled at Bill and said, "Sure,
honey. But just remember, we'll sit in the smoking section now."

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