Graduation Gift, Part 4

    "GRADUATION GIFT" by Dar.
    Part 4

    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

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

    When Bill awoke Sunday morning, he saw Irene sitting at the dressing table
putting on her makeup. Her cigarette was resting in the ashtray, with the
smoke rising in a gently undulating stream. Bill watched as she took a puff,
inhaled deeply, and blew the smoke in a plume toward the mirror, where the
mirror image of the smoke doubled the effect. Bill felt instantly aroused
again, but knew that he would have to wait until they returned home in the
evening.

    After showering, shaving, and getting dressed, Bill escorted Irene
downstairs for breakfast in the coffee shop. Irene smoked while they were
drinking their coffee and waiting for the eggs and toast to arrive. Bill
noticed how many people in the coffee shop, both men and women, were enjoying
their morning cigarettes. He wondered what it would be like to actually smoke
a cigarette. He knew that the second hand smoke which he had enjoyed was much
milder than would be the full blast of smoke direct from a cigarette into his
mouth. His lifetime of never smoking made him feel a bit afraid of ever trying
to smoke. Yes, he knew that Meg had tried it, and that Irene was now again a
confirmed smoker, but he just didn't feel like he could have courage enough to
actually put a cigarette in his own mouth.

    After breakfast they packed their luggage and checked out of the hotel.
They drove over to go to Meg's dorm room, but on the way Irene asked Bill to
stop at a convenience store. "Bill, would you be a dear and get me a carton of
those Benson & Hedges Light 100's?" she requested.

    Bill looked skeptical. "A whole carton?" he asked.

    Irene gave him her sweetest smile. "It's cheaper that way, Bill. Plus,
remember last night. You wouldn't want me to run out of cigarettes, would
you?"

    Bill needed no further urging and went in the store. As he asked the clerk
for the carton he suddenly felt a moment of discomfort. What was he doing? I'm
buying cigarettes, he thought, which is something I've never done in my life.
He looked around. No one in the store knew who he was. This was 350 miles from
where he lived. But then he started thinking about what it was going to be
like to go in the neighborhood grocery store back home and purchase
cigarettes. People knew him. They knew he didn't smoke. They assumed that his
wife, Irene, did not smoke. Bill completed the purchase, but started to have
second thoughts about the implications of all this smoking stuff which Meg and
Irene had started. What would people think about him?

    Back in the car, Irene noticed the frown on Bill's face. "Was there a
problem in the store?" she asked.

    "No, there was no problem," Bill began. He paused and took a breath.
"Irene, I'm sorry. There is a problem. I have a problem with all this. I don't
smoke. I never have. Everybody who knows me, everybody who grew up with me,
all our friends, the neighborsĞeverybody knows that I do not smoke. I know a
lot of people back home. How am I going to explain to people when they see me
buying cigarettes?"

    "Bill, you don't have to explain things to people," said Irene gently.

    "No, I don't HAVE to explain," Bill said. "No, I can just let people who
know me think that I have gone totally crazy, that I am having some kind of
mid-life breakdown. Well, I can't do that. I have to say something. People are
going to see me, they are going to talk, and somebody is going to ask."

    "So you just tell them that I started smoking again," offered Irene.
"What's the problem?"

    "Look, it's just embarrassing, that's all," Bill admitted. "Oh, you're
right, I can say that. But maybe what is worse is the people who just look and
don't say anything. They'll just assume I'm now a smoker and then start
talking about me behind my back. What about that?"

    Irene pulled a cigarette from her pack and lit it. She took one of her
patented long drags, inhaled, and then softly blew the smoke across the car
seat in Bill's direction. She saw his cheeks flush, and then a wry grin appear
on his face. "Bill," she asked, "do you still remember last night? I think you
said you liked this, right?" He nodded, as Irene continued, "I want you to
think about something for a second. Do you know anybody who smokes?"

    "Sure," Bill replied. "Sam smokes. Art and Cleo both smoke. I think Rich
has a cigar once in a while. What's your point?"

    "My point is this," Irene answered. "I'll bet that you don't pay much
attention to whether or not they smoke, do you? Some people smoke; some don't,
right? But what you think about them has everything to do with what kind of
people they are, and virtually nothing to do with whether or not they smoke.
Think about the people you just named. Sam...well, let's face it...Sam is a
total jerk, the way he walked out on his wife and kids. But what about Art and
Cleo? They're two of the nicest people we know. And Rich...well, remember that
time he loaned us two thousand bucks when we needed it for Meg's medical bills
in seventh grade? His cigars didn't bother us then, and they don't now."

    "So you are saying that people aren't going to think that I've gone crazy
just because I stop and buy you a pack of cigarettes now and then?" Bill
reasoned.

    Irene wafted another puff of smoke in Bill's direction. "That's not quite
what I'm saying," she said. "I'm saying that people aren't going to pay much
attention at all if you buy me some cigarettes. They don't care. The friends
who know you will still like you, because of the kind of man you are." Irene
smiled. "By the way, did I hear you say something about buying me a pack of
cigarettes now and then? I think you meant a couple of cartons of cigarettes.
Every week. Right, Bill?" She took another puff on her B&H as Bill smiled back
at her.

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

    They had arrived at Meg's dorm. Before they could get out of the car, Meg
came right out to meet them. "Hi, Mom and Dad," she said. "I've got all my
stuff packed. Come on in. We can stuff it into the trunk in just a couple
trips."

    "What about your car?" asked Bill.

    "I sold it to my friend Jamie," Meg answered. "I'm going to be in New York
City, where it is just impossible to keep a car. So I hope you don't mind if I
can please get a ride home with you?"

    "Sure," Bill said. "Let's get your stuff loaded up." In fifteen minutes
they were done and ready to leave for home. Bill drove on the city streets for
a few minutes and then headed onto the interstate highway. It was a beautiful,
sunny day, with temperatures in the low 70's.

    Irene pulled out her pack of cigarettes, lit one up, and gave Meg in the
back seat a quick wink. Meg took the cue and lit her own cigarette. After they
each had taken two or three puffs, Bill noticed that the air in the car was
beginning to get a bit smoky. He spoke up, "Hey, I'd better crack my window
open to let a little air in here."

    "Air?" asked Irene. "Bill, leave the windows closed. At 65 miles per hour,
the open windows make too much noise. Besides, I think you're going to enjoy
this trip more than you realize." She took a long drag on her cigarette and
exhaled. "There's always some air coming in the vents on the dashboard. So you
will have plenty of air. Remember, Bill, I like smoke, lots of smoke. And I
promised Meg I was going to teach her some tricks for maximizing our smoking
pleasure. One of the tricks is to keep the windows up in the car, so that the
smoke gets concentrated. It's actually the most fun with five or six smokers
in the car, but I think Meg and I will be able to do pretty well. Unless, of
course, you've decided you'd like to join us..."

    "But how am I supposed to breathe?" Bill began to whine.

    "Bill, remember we discussed that yesterday in the hotel room." Irene
reminded him. "All you need to do is just drive the car, relax, breathe
deeply, and enjoy the second-hand smoke."

    "Enjoy it?" asked Bill.

    Meg and Irene took extra big drags and filled the car with their exhales.
"Yes, Bill," said Irene. "Enjoy it. If you think it's getting thick, just
remember about those milkshakes. You like them thick, right? The thicker, the
better. So when the air in the car feels like it's getting too thick, your
first reaction will be to avoid the smoke. Instead, just take two or three
especially deep breaths. You'll start to find it doesn't bother you. Then take
several more deep breaths. You will start to get used to it. Then just keep
breathing in, over and over The deeper you breathe, the better it will get.
Bill, I promise you'll like it. "

    "Like it?" questioned Bill.

    Irene blew out another cone of creamy smoke. "Bill, this is going to be
our best car trip ever. I can promise that you will like this a lot." She put
out her first cigarette, and immediately pulled out another one and lit it.
Bill kept his eyes on the road, but he could see Irene out of the corner of
his eye. He could see how she kept her cigarette near her mouth. She would
place the white filter deep into her lips, right in the center. Then he could
see her cheeks hollow as she dragged on the cigarette. When her mouth was
full, she would move the cigarette maybe a half-inch in front of her lips,
inhale the smoke, and then put the cigarette back in for another deep drag.
Then she would again withdraw the cigarette, but keep it close to her lips
with the smoke from the tip was rising up to her nose. This time she would
open her lips, let the smoke from her mouth flow up over her top lip, mixing
with the side-stream smoke from the cigarette, and into her nose, as she
inhaled all the smoke deep into her lungs. As Irene inhaled, Bill could see
her breasts rise and seem to fill out, and he remembered his fantasy from the
previous day where he had pictured her breasts full of warm smoke. Now in the
car, she held her smoke in for several long seconds, and then blew it sweetly
between her lips. The plume of smoke gradually expanded until it met the car's
front window, at which point it dispersed, some coming over toward Bill, some
returning back toward Irene.

    Bill remembered the direct blast of smoke from the blond in the hotel
lounge, which was strong but brief, and he remembered the thick smoke in the
hotel room after he had come back up from the lounge. But now that he was
driving the car, with Irene on her second cigarette and Meg almost done with
her first one, he realized that the smoke was already thicker and more
concentrated in the car. He immediately realized why: the number of cubic feet
of space inside the vehicle was probably less than 10% of the space inside the
hotel room. Bill reasoned that two or three cigarettes in the car would make
the smoke as dense as twenty or thirty cigarettes in the hotel room. He heard
Meg flicking her lighter in the back seat, her second cigarette. He did the
math: that was the fourth cigarette in the car, equal to perhaps forty in the
hotel room.

    For a moment Bill began to panic. What if he couldn't breathe? What if he
passed out? What if...? But then he remembered what Irene had told him. He
focused on his breathing pattern, and realized that he had been taking short,
shallow breaths. Calm down, he thought. He tried taking a deep breath, and got
about half-way when he breathed back out because the smoke just seemed too
thick. C'mon Bill, he thought to himself. Try what Irene said to do. This time
he opened his mouth, breathed in more slowly, and just kept pulling in the
air/smoke mixture until his lungs were full. He breathed out smoothly, and
then tried it again, trying to breath even more deeply. He held his breath in
for a second, and then released it. Okay, he thought, so how do I feel now?
Bill realized that he was not in pain, not even really uncomfortable. In fact,
he thought, I am actually rather relaxed, although I can't quite say that I
like all this smoke.

    Irene and Meg were continuing to smoke their cigarettes, with the smoke in
the car getting still thicker. But Bill noticed that the air from the vents
was mixing with the smoke also. He could tell that the air in the car was just
about at a point of balance, where the smoke was thick but tolerable. He
decided to try some more deep breaths. He tried breathing in slowly again, but
this time just through his nose, gradually filling his lungs. Bill realized
that he really no longer experienced the smoke as a smelly odor. For him, it
now was more of a rich, somewhat pungent, but surprisingly pleasant aroma. He
realized that when he breathed in, the smoke seemed to somehow fill him up,
just like a thick milk-shake would fill up his stomach more than a glass of
water. He felt satisfied. He began to like the smell of smoke, lots of thick
smoke. He enjoyed seeing Irene's puffs and exhales out of the corner of his
eye. And he found himself liking very much when one of Meg's exhales from the
back seat seemed to come in his direction, surrounding his shoulders and head
with extra smoke.

    They drove for two hours without stopping. During that time, Irene smoked
nine cigarettes and Meg smoked seven. Bill continued his deep breathing, and
knew that when they got home and went to bed finally in the evening, he would
need to encourage Irene to give him more smoke than the mild aroma he had
experienced the night before. He knew now that he was beyond just tolerating
Meg and Irene's smoke. He liked it.

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

    It was time to stop for lunch. Bill was going to drive into a national
chain restaurant, when he suddenly remembered that they had a no-smoking
policy. Right across the street was a medium-sized place called Jim and
Marie's Restaurant. Bill smiled at Irene and pulled in. The two of them and
Meg got out of the car and went in. Their first impressions of Jim and Marie's
Restaurant were that the place was immaculately clean, that the waitresses
were nicely dressed, that the food prices posted near the door were
reasonable, and that the customers were nicely-dressed mostly middle class
folks enjoying an early Sunday afternoon meal. Their second impression was
more interesting. More than half the people were smoking.

    "Good afternoon, folks," said a red-haired waitress whose name tag
identified her as "Sandy".

    "Hi," said Bill. "Could we sit in the smoking section, please?"

    "Mister," smiled Sandy, "you must be new here. This whole restaurant is
the smoking section. Welcome to Jim and Marie's All-Smoking Restaurant! Let me
seat you in a nice booth right here in the middle by the window, so you can
enjoy the view. I'll be back to take your order in just a minute."

    Irene looked at Bill. "Honey, I think you chose the right spot." She
pulled out a cigarette, and offered one across the table to Meg, who accepted,
and they both lit up. As she exhaled a large stream of smoke, Irene wondered
out loud, "I am really curious how a restaurant can get away with being
all-smoking, considering the current anti-smoking political agenda being
promoted in so many places."

    Sandy returned, and Irene asked her about the smoking policy.

    "Well, folks, five or six years ago there were just two places to eat in
our town, ours and Marito's. Then we got two national chain fast food places,
the one you see across the street, and another one that's two blocks down the
street. Well, it hurt business for both of us, and Marito's closed after a
couple of years. But then, about a year ago, the national chains were forced
to adopt a non-smoking policy or else lose their franchises. So now they get
most of their business from high school kids and people traveling through from
off the highway."

    "But what about this place?" asked Bill.

    "Well," explained Sandy, "Jim and Marie, the owners, both smoke. All the
waitresses smoke. And I would guess that probably two-thirds of the people in
town smoke. So Jim and Marie just figured that if they made this restaurant
hospitable to the smokers, they could get all the local business that doesn't
feel comfortable going across the street anymore. So with that, and the fact
that our food is better and cheaper than the grease which the chains serve,
we're now doing better than ever. As you can see, the place is full!"

    Meg took a puff and exhaled, but had a frown on her face. "Do you mean
that nobody complained about the lack of a no-smoking section?" she asked.

    "Oh, somebody complained all right!" said Sandy. "Fred Potts, one of the
town council members, doesn't smoke, so he introduced a motion in the town
council to forbid smoking at all restaurants. Unfortunately for Fred, seven of
the nine council members smoke, and the wife of the eighth member smokes, so
his motion got voted down eight to one. Anyway, can I take your orders now for
what you would like to eat?"

    Bill, Irene, and Meg placed their orders. Sandy thanked them and left
their table.

    "You know," said Bill, "there is another important aspect about the two of
you smoking which we haven't talked about yet: the medical aspect. And don't
tell me that old line about how we all will die of something, so it doesn't
matter. You know very well that some people get smoking related illnesses, and
suffer for many years."

    "But Dad," replied Meg, "you know that the cigarette companies say that
there is no proof that smoking causes various illnesses. Some people get lung
cancer or emphysema who never smoked in their life, and who didn't live with
or work around smokers."

    "No, that's not it," said Irene. "Let's be honest. The fact is that a
significant number of smokers do suffer because of it, maybe one out of every
four smokers. The tobacco companies know it, the government knows it, and
everybody with half a brain knows it. The companies just can't admit it
publicly, because that would immediately result in more liability suits. It is
a big game."

    Bill frowned. "It's not just a game when people are getting sick and
dying. So Irene and Meg, don't you think you had better quit smoking right
now? "

    "No," Irene replied. "I don't think so at all, and here's why. Those
smokers who do have a problem usually don't have any serious trouble until
they have been smoking for thirty or forty years. I'm in my late forties, just
starting to smoke again. So that means that I'm going to be in my late
seventies or eighties before I even begin to have to worry about it. Probably
I'll stop smoking by then anyway. And Bill, you are three years older than I
am. Why don't you try it?" Irene chuckled, "You could smoke till well into
your eighties."

    "Oh sure," Bill answered, "but what about Meg? She doesn't want to get ill
when she is our age. And another thing, Meg. You said that maybe nothing has
been proved about smoking causing diseases. But I just heard recently in the
news that scientists have actually located a specific gene in our DNA which
becomes altered due to smoking, and that is the mechanism by which smoking can
cause cancer!"

    "Bill, that is absolutely brilliant!" Irene exclaimed. "You have just
provided the answer to your own questions. Once they know what the exact cause
of any medical problem is, then they are able to cure it.You know, right now
there are millions of dollars being poured into research for AIDS and breast
cancer and heart disease. But nobody is that interested in curing diseases
caused by smoking, because smoking is not politically correct...except maybe
in this little town! But the fact that they now have identified a specific
gene which causes these diseases means that soon the research possibilities
will be explored, and within ten years they will be able to find a cure. That
means that I'll be able to smoke until I'm a hundred, if I want to! Our Meg is
actually one of the lucky ones, one of the young generation which will be able
to smoke their whole lives without medical risk. As soon as the word gets out,
we will have a change in the current political attitude, because I bet that
ninety per cent of the young people will soon be smoking!"

    "Ninety per cent?" scoffed Bill. The sunlight was coming in the window,
shining on Irene and Meg as they puffed on their cigarettes, and illuminating
the smoke as they exhaled. He watched Irene take another long drag, saw the
ball of smoke flash in front of her lips as the sun shone on it, watched it
disappear into her lungs, and then be reformed as a beautiful, long plume
floating from her lips.

    "Sweetheart," replied Irene, "smoking is good. It's wonderful. That's why
Meg smokes, and that's why I am smoking again now. Anybody who tries it loves
it. A lot of people don't smoke because they are scared off by the health
risk. For me, that risk is worth taking, even though I understand that the
heavy anti-smoking propaganda has discouraged a lot of people. But think about
it. What will happen when everybody knows that there is no risk, that smoking
is fun and glamorous, that it relieves stress, that it promotes good
conversation, that it helps keep your weight down, that smoking is very sexy,
and that all your friends smoke? The answer is that you are going to at least
try it. And if you try it you will like it. A lot! It will be like fat-free
ice cream, believe me!"

    "So, Dad, what about you?" asked Meg. "Want to try a cigarette right now?
Here, have a little puff from mine."

    Bill's face grew red. "Meg, you are being rude," he said. "Now, I am
trying to be cooperative with the two of you. I understand that you both want
to smoke. Well, I don't want to! Your mother has seen to it that I've been
blanketed by smoke from the two of you for the last couple hours. I think I
have made a reasonably good effort to get accustomed to it, but that doesn't
mean that I want to smoke myself. You don't need to..."

    "Bill...Bill!" Irene interrupted. "Meg didn't mean any harm. She and I
know the pleasures of smoking, and I think she just wanted to share her joy
with you."

    "I'll say it again," said Bill, starting to calm down a bit. "You don't
need to ask me if I want to smoke. I do not. If I ever change my mind, which I
do not expect to do, I will let you know. So you both go ahead and enjoy, if
that's the word for it, your smoking habits. I never have had a cigarette
between my lips, and I think I know how to have a good time and enjoy life
without it, thank you very much!"

    Irene mentally recorded a slight setback on part three of her plan. She
would have to speak to Meg about not pushing too hard too fast. She knew that
Bill could not be forced to want to smoke. He would have to be attracted to
it. He would have to want it, and want it badly. She would continue her plan,
step by sweet step. Besides, Irene thought, Bill seems now to be protesting
just a bit too much. What did he just say? Something about if he ever changed
his mind... She smiled as she took another long drag on a fresh Benson and
Hedges, and turned with her mouth facing toward Bill so he could get a good
look at the puff of smoke just before she inhaled it. She knew the sunlight in
the window would give him a good show as she exhaled toward the ceiling.

    Sandy brought their food. Irene and Meg each took final long drags before
stubbing out their cigarettes. As she blew out her last puff of smoke before
eating, Irene thought about her plans for this evening when they arrived back
home. Her Bill would definitely have an interesting time; she would see to
that!

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

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