Sarah's Winstons, Part 5

(by slimv2001@yahoo.com, 29 August 2008)


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Sarah's Winstons
by slimv

****** Five ******


It was my mom who suggested that I ask Sarah to marry me.  I think we'd been
unofficially engaged since the moment she touched my hand in church when we
were kids.  Mom said it would mean a lot to Mr. Jacobs if we got married
while he was still alive.

Mr. Rawlings gave Sarah some time off from the store so she could plan our
wedding with our mothers.  Her father's cancer was being patient but everyone
felt a sense of urgency. It was only a matter of weeks before we were
standing in front of congregation with me placing a gold ring on Sarah's
nicotine stained finger.  Despite her yellow smile, she looked beautiful and
radiant in her wedding dress.

At the reception, I sat with her and watched her smoke a cigarette with her
parents after the father/daughter dance.  Mr. Jacobs looked bad, but I'd
never seen a happier look on his face as he gazed at his daughter in her
wedding dress.  He shook my hand and asked me to pray for him, saying he
wanted to live long enough to see his first grandchild.

*****

I took Sarah to the Bahamas for our honeymoon.  I can't tell you how excited
we were, because we were both virgins and truly in love with one another.  It
was early in the afternoon when we checked into our hotel, but we wanted to
make love right away.

We unpacked our suit cases and Sarah put two cartons of Winstons on the
nightstand.  "They're a wedding gift from Mr. Rawlings," she said as she
kissed me and me took her nightgown to the bathroom.

As I undressed and got in bed, I made a mental note to thank Mr. Rawlings for
his thoughtful gift as soon as we got back home.

I was under the sheets when Sarah walked out of the bathroom wearing her long
silk nightgown.  Her heavy breasts pushed against the white lace of the
gown's cups and the silk fabric of the gown clung tight to her midriff as she
made her way to our wedding bed.

"I'm so glad we waited for this," she said as she picked up a carton of
Winstons and opened it.  "Do you mind?" she asked as she removed a pack and
tore off its cellophane wrapper.    "I know its probably gross and tacky to
smoke in bed, but I'm so nervous."

I couldn't get over the fact that I was now married to a woman that smokes
cigarettes.  I immediately agreed that a cigarette might help relax her.  

"I love you so much," she said as she excitedly placed the Winston between
her lips.  I watched and waited for her to light it but she hesitated.

"What's wrong?" I asked.  The look on her face was sad and bothered.  

"Nothing," she said.  "Its just that..."

"What?  Tell me?"

"Are you sure you're okay with me smoking in bed tonight?  I know we never
talked about it and I don't want to get our marriage off to a bad start.  I
can do this in the bathroom.  It will only take a minute," she said as she
started to climb out of bed.

I grabbed her arm and pulled her back.  "No.  Don't go.  I knew you were a
smoker when I married you."

"Yeah, so?  I knew you liked to eat crab legs when I married you, but that
doesn't mean I want you flipping crab shells all over our bed."

"Its not the same thing," I said.  "For one thing, I don't have a three crab
a day habit."

Sarah laughed.  "No.  I guess not.  I've seen you go months at a time without
eating them.  I wish I could do the same with cigarettes."

"But you can't."

"I'm sorry," she said.  "I'm a terrible wife already."

"You're a really good person Sarah.  You do so much for everybody.  I wish I
was half as good a person as you are."

"You're the good person," she said.  "You're like Mr. Perfect.  You're smart
and you're nice to your parents.  You go to church and you don't drink or
smoke.  Every girl wants to marry a guy like you."

"But I eat crabs."

She laughed again.  "But second hand crabs don't hurt other people."

I didn't get her joke.

"I'm not kidding," she said.  "I was working in the store and I had some time
so I was reading one of the magazines and there was this article about
second-hand smoke.  That's like with you and me.  You get my second-hand
smoke and the magazine said that its worse for you than it is for me even
though I'm the one smoking it."

I shook my head.  "That's stupid.  That doesn't make sense at all."

"I don't know," she said.  "I've read it before and it scares me.  After all
this stuff with my dad, I'd shrivel and die if I made something like that to
happen to you.  I'm going to die anyway, probably from this," she said as she
looked at the red pack in her hand.  "But I don't want to drag you down with
me."

I thought about it and I realized there was a possibility that I could ease
Sarah's mind and make my life easier if I told her the truth about my wanting
to smoke.  I also realized there was a good chance that I could make things
ten times worse by telling her.  I opted to play it safe.

"Look.  You can do what you want.  But if you want to do what I want, you'll
smoke in our bed and in our car and in our house and everywhere I am, because
I want to be close to you all the time."

Her expression changed from worried to appreciative.  "Do you really mean
that?"

"I do.  I love you so much.  I want you to smoke."

Sarah giggled happily and lit her cigarette.  We were both happy.  But I
wondered what would have happened if I had spun my argument the other way.
Would I be smoking with her?

"I love you too," said Sarah as she exhaled smoke across our bed.  "Wow!
This is so weird.  We're in bed and we're married.  We're really husband and
wife, aren't we?"

"Uh-huh, that's right," I said as I touched one of her lace covered nipples
with my finger.  "So that means I can do this."

She laughed and blew her smoke in my face causing me to pull back.  "And that
means I can do that," she said.  "I'm sorry.  I was just playing.  That was
gross, wasn't it?"

Call me naive, but that was the first time in my life that anyone had
intentionally blew smoke in my face.  "Do it again," I said.

"What?"

"Do that again- what you did.  Blow smoke in my face again."

She wrinkled her brow into a confused posture and blew another puff of smoke
in my face.  I laughed and the look on her face became more confused.

"I like that," I said.

"No way!"

As I said earlier, I was naive.  I'd never shown anyone my penis before
except for our family doctor, and it had never been hard when I did that.
"Look at this," I said as I pulled down the sheet.

Sarah gasped and giggled as she made the mental connection between my stiff
penis and her smoking.  "That's so neat.  In that case, I'm going to start
doing this a lot," she said as she emptied her lungs in my face.

I kissed her.  Her hot tobacco laden mouth overwhelmed my senses.  My soul
seared as I ran my hand across the back of her neck.   

Sarah reach over to the nightstand and put out her cigarette in the ashtray
as I pulled her down to the mattress and climbed on top of her.

"Am I hurting you?" I asked as my penis penetrated the warm lips of her wet
vagina.  

She bit her lip and squirmed.  "Go deeper," she begged.

I'd like to tell you that I lasted 10 minutes and performed like a stallion,
but I didn't.  Her orgasm came first and mine followed shortly thereafter.
It was the most amazing feeling of my entire life.  She told me I was
wonderful and I believed her as I sank down in the bed beside her.

We kissed and petted each other while we caught our breath.  When I felt
enough time had passed, I pushed myself up in bed and reached across her for
the pack of Winstons and the lighter.  As much as I wanted to remove two
cigarettes from the pack, I only took one and I placed it between her lips as
she smiled up at me.  I called her "Mrs. Holloway" and asked if I could give
her a light.

She nodded shyly and accepted the flame from my hand.  "Thank you Mr.
Holloway," she said coyly as she exhaled gently into my face and reached
between my legs to check the status of my penis which had stiffened in
response to her smoke.  "That's so weird.  Is that going to happen every time
I do that?"

"I don't know.  Maybe.  Is it a bad thing?"

"I guess not, but it is kind of strange when you think about it.  It's almost
like it turns you on.  Does it?"

It was the tone of her voice that made me pause.  If I said yes, would she
think I got off on the idea of her getting cancer like her father?  If I said
no, would she think I was disgusted by her smoking and everything else was
just a lie to make her feel better?  But it wasn't like my penis could lie.
She'd seen how fast I got hard when she blew her smoke in my face.  It was
instantaneous.  I had indeed wandered into dangerous territory.

"I don't think I'd exactly say it turns me on because I know it isn't good
for you, but that doesn't mean you don't look nice doing it."

Her eyes brightened and I saw a hint of a smile.

"Really?  You think I look nice smoking?  How?"

"Well for starters, I guess there are some people that just looking better
smoking than other people and you're one of them.  I don't know why, but you
just look right with a cigarette.  I remember thinking that about you when
you were 12 or 13.  I thought you looked pretty and grown-up when you
smoked."

Sarah settled back on her elbow and puffed luxuriously on her Winston.
"That's funny because I felt grown-up when my parents gave me permission to
start .  I know that sounds crazy because I was only 11, but I did.  I felt
grown-up being able to smoke with them.  I just never thought anyone else
would ever think that, especially you.  And then that day, the first time you
saw me and you ran away, I thought I was going to die."

"I'm sorry about that.  It just freaked me out, especially when I saw my mom
there."

"Your mom was so sweet," said Sarah as she put out her cigarette and lit
another one.  "She kept telling me it didn't make me a bad person."

"She's right.  You're not.  You're the best person I know."

She sighed and exhaled.  "Well you know what people say about kids that smoke
being bad and all.  So that's what I was thinking people would think about me
when they found out.  I was so ashamed and then that day when my parents made
me smoke in the restaurant after church in front of you, I was sure you were
going to be ashamed to be seen with me."

"Are you kidding?  I was so proud of you that day, Sarah."

"You were?"

"I thought that was so brave of you.  I mean it wasn't like you were 50 years
old or something.  You were 13.  And you just up and did it.  I never could
have done something like that.  I don't think I could that right now and I'm
22 years old."

Sarah grinned and shook her head.  "It was a pretty hard thing to do.  I was
so scared.  What about now?  Now that I'm older and I smoke like a train, are
you still proud of me?"  She took a puff from her cigarette and exhaled.
"I'm kidding you know.  I don't want you to answer that."

"Well actually, as a matter of fact, I am proud of you."

"Maybe you're proud of the kind of person I am because I'm not a serial
killer, but you're not proud of me for smoking."

"I am proud of who you are cause I think you're a great person and I love
you.  But I'm proud of you for smoking too."

"I'm sorry but that doesn't make any sense, but right now I feel so good and
I don't want it to end.  Tell me why you're proud of me."

Things were going so well.  I was on a roll.  I was basically telling her
about my fetish without telling her about my fetish.  It was like a win/win
situation for both of us.

"I know a lot of really good women that smoke like my mom and you're mom all
those women in your Bible study group."

She interrupted me.  "That's cool, so you're comparing me to a bunch old
ladies."

"They're good people Sarah.  You like them too and you respect them."

"I know.  I was just trying to be funny.  The thing is I do feel a lot older
because of the smoking.  I don't know anyone else my age that smokes as much
as I do.  Its like Mr. Rawlings at the store.  I feel like an old geezer lady
sometimes.  I feel like it too.  I get so tired and out of breath."

"I'm sorry about that, but it doesn't change the fact that I'm proud of you.
I guess its because all the important people in my life, the ones I look up
to the most, all of them smoke, and you're one of them."

Sarah beamed.  "You're so sweet.  Hearing you talk like this almost makes me
glad I'm a smoker.  I was so afraid that after we got married you were going
to tell me to quit or do it in the garage.  My mom said you wouldn't do that
to me, but I wasn't sure."

"Why did she say that?" I asked.

"She said you'd be okay with it because your mom smokes too.  She said a
woman that smokes should always marry a boy whose momma smokes, cause that
means he's used to women smoking all the time."

"That actually makes a lot of sense."

"What can I say?  My momma is a pretty smart person.  She said some other
things that turned out right today too."

"Like what?"

Sarah giggled and inhaled a deep puff from her cigarette and let it out.  "I
can't tell you.  Its woman talk.  Your mom told me the same thing.  And it
was so true!"

"What?  Tell me."

"I can't," she laughed.  "You'll think I'm some kind of pervert- your mom and
my mom too."

I pinched her butt playfully.  "Tell me."

Sarah squealed and giggled some more.  "Okay!  They said the best thing about
being a smoker is having a cigarette after sex and they were right!  Its
awesome!  I love it!"

My hard penis grew harder and I kissed her.  "That really makes me happy.
I'm glad you enjoy it.  Does it really feel better to you after sex?"

She blew smoke toward the ceiling.  "Uh-huh, yeah.  Definitely.  I always
enjoy smoking, but it was so different after we had sex.  It wasn't as good
as the sex but it was like smoking made the sex even better.  Its just so
good Michael.  I can't explain it, but I wish you knew how good it makes me
feel."

"Me too."

Sarah laughed and attacked the cork filter with her lips.  "Yeah, right!
Michael Holloway a smoker.  That would be the day."

I knew she wasn't making fun of me or putting me down but I was still put off
by her reaction.  "What's so funny about me maybe smoking?  I'm old enough.
I'm two years older than you."

She sensed my hurt and apologized.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to hurt your
feelings.  I wasn't making fun of you.  Its just that I can't imagine you
with a cigarette.  That would look so weird to me.  It would be like seeing
Billy smoke."

"I'm not your little brother.  I'm your husband," I said defensively.

"I'm sorry.  I know you're an adult.  That's not what I'm talking about.  I
didn't mean it that way.  Its just that you're so sweet and nice and clean
cut.  It would be like seeing Clark Kent or Super Man smoking.  Its okay for
Lois Lane because she's just human, but not for Clark, because he's someone
special."

"But you were telling me how nice smoking makes you feel and you said you
wished I could feel it for myself."

"Smoking does make me feel good, especially after we have sex, but you know
what its doing to my dad.  I couldn't live with myself if something like that
happened to you and it was my fault.  What do you think your parents would
say and you know they'd blame me.  Think about it honey.  You're a smart man.
You don't really want to smoke, do you?"

Sarah had just asked the $64,000 question and I immediately answered it with
my penis instead of my brain.

"Yes.  I do."

The expression on her face changed from sympathy to astonishment.  She shook
her head.

"No you don't.  You're kidding, right?  Please tell me you're kidding
Michael."

"I'm not kidding Sarah.  I want to start smoking.  I want us to be like our
parents."

She sat up in the bed chain-smoking as I told her my story from beginning to
end.  I hadn't cheated on her with those sorority girls, so I told her about
them too.  I even told her about the drinking and I didn't leave out my
experiment with the Winstons behind the dormitory.  It took hours but I told
her everything.

I threw myself at her mercy when I had finished spilling my guts.

"I know you don't understand but I really do want to start smoking, Sarah.  It
means that much to me.  But I'm not going to do it if you don't want me to.
I won't do it without your permission.  I love you more than whatever this is
I'm feeling."

Sarah sat back against her pillow and lit a cigarette.  "I don't know honey.
I heard everything you said and I understand it more than you think I do.
But I know I don't want you to do it because I love you too much."

My heart fell and she heard it drop.

"Maybe we should pray about this," she said.

"I've been praying about this since I was a little kid and I'm pretty sure
God is leaving it up to you."

"Then I need to pray about it," said Sarah.

"Okay then.  I won't talk about it again until you're ready."

She nodded.

"But before we stop talking about it I need to know if you hate me because of
the things I told you.  You know, the stuff I said about your smoking and how
I feel about it.  Do you think I'm a terrible person?"

Sarah's eyes filled with tears as she shook her head.  "Oh Michael, no.  I
love you so much and I think you're the most wonderful man in the world.  And
if I didn't know it yesterday, I know it now.  The things you said made me
feel good about myself.  I know I got to pray about you but the things you
said were the answer to my prayers.  I'm going to feel beautiful and good
about myself every time I smoke a cigarette because of what you said."

We spent the rest of the day making love.  Sarah smoked the entire time
except while we were making love and I vowed to change that as soon as I
could.


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